by S. C. Stokes
Throwing a leg over the window sill, Kasey ducked through the small opening. There was no time for stealth now. Her shoes clanged as they struck the steel of the fire escape. She raced down the fire escape, hoping that the sirens would mask the sound of her descent.
As soon as she reached the ground, she ran down the alley, stopping for only a second as she tore off her balaclava and threw it in a dumpster, ensuring it disappeared behind a bag of garbage. Content that it would not be discovered, she hit the street. Pulling down her hoodie and straightening her hair, she did all she could to give the impression of a woman out for a walk rather than a bout of break and entry.
The siren closed as a squad car rounded the corner and came tearing down Palmetto Street toward her. Kasey's heart skipped a beat as she mentally willed the squad car to ignore her. This time, luck was in her favor, and the car carried on down the street, not stopping until it had reached the apartment complex Kasey had just vacated.
She breathed a heavy sigh of relief and made her way toward home.
With her mind racing a million miles an hour, Kasey opted to walk rather than take the subway.
Why on earth did I do that? Kasey asked herself as she made her way home. I put my career in jeopardy by breaking the law, and worse even than that, I almost blasted a normal through a wall. The Arcane Council will be furious if they find out.
Her swift thinking had saved her life, but it had also put the world of magic at risk of being discovered. While Kasey had no love for that world, it was one shared by her parents and sister. Discovery would affect all of them, and Kasey cursed herself for being so short-sighted. ‘Normals’ had always dealt poorly with witches and wizards.
Superstition had proved a powerful and dangerous motivator. History had shown only too well what would happen if the veil of secrecy was removed. In the 1400s, under the guise of religious fervor, the Spanish Inquisition had orchestrated one of the greatest witch hunts in history. The same superstition had struck England in the 1600s. This time without so much as a cover story, mobs of unruly citizenry had swept the countryside. Armed with a series of barbaric, and frankly ridiculous tests, they sought to purge any gifted magician they could find. Ironically, most who had perished were normals, simply caught in the wrong place at the wrong time by frenzied mobs.
Kasey's own family, the Stonemoores, had felt the purge’s bite. Mildred Stonemoore, the formidable matriarch of the Stonemoore household, had been poisoned by a cowardly neighbor who had witnessed her performing magic in the forest by their home. Witch or not, the virulent toxin had struck her down.
Kasey made her way through the quiet streets toward her apartment. As her heart rate eased, she became aware of the dull ache in her jaw. She massaged her face. That's going to hurt in the morning. For someone so scrawny, Brad had packed quite a wallop. Kasey knew the bruise would cause a stir at work, but fortunately her mixed martial arts provided the perfect alibi. More than once she had made her way into work sporting an assortment of injuries from her routine training.
It was almost one-thirty when Kasey made it home. Entering her small studio apartment, she realized for the first time just how tired she was. She tottered over to the sofa and collapsed, letting the fatigue of the day catch up with her at last.
Kasey's alarm blared loudly, dragging her from her slumber. She fumbled about blindly, seeking to put a stop to the never-ending beeping, and rolled off the couch, landing face first onto her phone. With the source of the disturbance located, she shut off the alarm. Glancing at the screen, she realized she had overslept already. She was certainly going to be late to work.
The beeping had been her emergency alarm. In her exhausted state, she had slept through her usual 7 o'clock alarm. She picked herself up off the floor and ran to the bathroom. Her mirror revealed the results of her evening scuffle, a bruise was forming nicely on the left side of her jaw.
Well, it didn't disappoint. Oh well, no time to worry about it now.
She hurriedly showered and dressed for work. Skipping her morning coffee ritual, she was on the subway and heading into Manhattan only twenty minutes later. Despite her rush, it was still well after nine when she pulled open the large double doors and made her way into the station.
Avoiding the elevators, Kasey took the stairs, hoping her late entrance and bruised face would go unnoticed. Making her way down to the morgue, she entered the room and spotted Vida standing next to two large men in suits. Kasey stopped, but it was too late. She'd already been seen.
The men turned toward the door.
Vida smiled at her.
“Ah, Kasey, good morning! Nice of you to finally join us. These two men have been waiting to have a chat with you. Now that you're here. I'll leave you in their very capable hands.” Vida excused himself and squeezed past Kasey. Pausing for a moment at the door, he affected his most robotic accent and said, “I’ll be back!” before scurrying down the corridor, leaving Kasey alone with the two strange men.
“Kasey, would you mind shutting the door? We would prefer our conversation remain private. You'll understand why in just a moment,” the closer of the two men asked as he pointed to it.
Kasey’s pulse quickened but she did her best to hide her nerves, nodding at the request she slid it shut.
“Why don’t you pull up a chair? We could be here for a little while,” the man asked as he and his companion made themselves comfortable. Kasey grabbed a chair and set her purse down on the table. The one on the left was short and squat, but well-built. Kasey imagined he would pack quite a punch were he a boxer. The one on the right was lean and roughly Kasey's height.
“Mind telling me who you are and what you're doing here?” Kasey asked skeptically. “It's not every day I get visitors. Particularly ones as well dressed as yourselves. I can only surmise that you are from the Mayor’s office or somewhere else of that ilk. You’ll be the latest attempt to make my life a misery. Behind the suits and smiles is Ainsley money. How did I do? Am I close?”
“Poorly,” the taller man replied. “But not to worry, no one is keeping score here. I am Johnson, and this is Clarke. Your colleague believes us to be with internal affairs. That is, of course, a lie, but a necessary one given he is a normal.”
A normal. To use such words could only mean…
Johnson finished her thought. “We're with the Arcane Council. More particularly, we work in the ADI.”
“ADI? Arcane Council? Sorry, fellas, I think you might be barking up the wrong tree, or barking mad. I have no idea what you're talking about,” Kasey answered.
Clarke replied, “Oh, I don't think that's quite true. You see, Kasey, we've had our eye on you for some time. One of our agents spotted you performing a simple incantation and we have kept a watch on you ever since. You are, after all, not listed on the records of Council, and as such are an unregistered witch practicing magic in the city of New York.
“While registration isn't mandatory, you are still subject to the Council’s laws and governance. The Council acts to protect all magical beings in the United States of America. For the most part, you've kept your head down, but your actions last night were a clear breach of council laws governing the use of magic. As part of the ADI, our job is to prevent exactly those kinds of incidents from occurring and here you are, causing them with reckless abandon.”
Even though they knew she was gifted, she didn’t want to incriminate herself. “The ADI, still no idea what that one means. Mind spelling it out for me?”
“Sure,” Johnson replied. “It's the Anti Discovery Initiative. It is our job to ensure normals don't get any whiff of true magic being performed. It is in our best interest that our community remain hidden from the world at large. Suspicion and superstition have always been enemies of magic and we can ill afford the attention and persecution that discovery would bring upon us all. It is in that capacity that we've come to speak to you today.”
“That's all well and good, boys, but I'm yet to see any ID. Arcane Council, ADI,
or conspiracy theorists anonymous. Whatever the case might be, keen to see some credentials. Show me what you've got,” Kasey responded, almost flippantly.
Johnson sighed and reached into his pocket. Clarke followed suit. The pair produced black flip back wallets from their suit coats and placed them on the table. Kasey picked up the first and flicked it open.
Kasey raised an eyebrow. “Internal affairs? I thought we'd already agreed that was a lie.”
“Oh, sorry about that,” Johnson replied. Sweeping his hand across the table, he muttered, “Datguddiwch.”
Before Kasey's eyes, the details on the ID she was holding began to rearrange themselves. In a matter of moments, it went from an ID bearing the NYPD's logo and badge number, to a security card bearing the spinning spheres that served as the crest of the Arcane Council. The photo ID was unmistakably Johnson. The card listed his credentials as an officer in the ADI.”
Could they know about Brad already? Kasey’s palms began to sweat, but she tried to play calm. “ADI, ha, so it is a real thing… And you two are wizards. Well, at least we know you aren't crazy. But that doesn't account for why you're here speaking with me.”
Johnson’s response was immediate. “Well, Kasey, your complete lack of surprise in seeing magic performed before your eyes proves to us that you are who we think you are.”
“And who is that exactly?” Kasey replied
“A witch, of course.” Clarke replied.
“Well, you're right on that count, Clarke. I do know magic, but as we've already covered, I'm not registered with the Council, and I have no interest in the ADI. Personally, I try to keep as much distance between me and your crazy world as possible,” Kasey replied, pulling her jacket closed around her before folding her arms tightly.
“It's interesting… You say that and yet you continue to use your gifts with carefree abandon,” Johnson retorted
Kasey was defiant. “If magic makes my life easier, why wouldn’t I use it from time to time? I'm careful to make sure no one else sees or hears me casting a spell…” She paused before continuing. “I may not be a fan of the Council, but I have no desire to see the other witches and wizards I care about suffer. My family are part of your community, after all. I know all about the price of discovery and I don’t need a lecture.”
“Interesting. We didn't know about your family. We always figured you emigrated from overseas. We supposed you faked your identity using magic and were hiding out here in New York,” Clarke replied.
Kasey recoiled, seeking to place as much distance between herself and Clarke as she could while remaining on her stool. “Well, Clarke, you're beginning to sound a little creepy, almost stalker-ish. You still haven't told me why you are here, and I do have work to do today… so if you don't mind, get on with it or get out of my way.”
Johnson sighed. “If you insist. Miss Chase. On behalf of the Arcane Council, and under the authority of the ADI, we are issuing you with a formal warning for your conduct last night. Further violations of the Arcane Council’s laws and guidelines for the practicing of magic will result in disciplinary action being taken against you. This might include but is not limited to: Deportation, incarceration or in extreme cases, death.” Johnson paused to let his words sink in. “Punishment will be determined by a jury of your peers, those whom you have put at risk through your reckless conduct. Do you understand?”
The warning struck her to her core. Kasey’s hands balled into fists. “What the heck are you talking about?” Kasey demanded. “You haven't even told me what I did.”
“Oh, I had thought we were all on the same page with that one,” Clarke replied matter-of-factly. “Last night, you not only used magic in front of a normal, but you used it on him. A man by the name of Brad Tescoe was almost blown through a wall. He was taken to hospital and was overheard there complaining about a break-in and someone throwing him across the room... with their mind. The ER nurses figured he was having a nervous breakdown. After all, his girlfriend had just died.
“But we all know better than that, don’t we, Kasey? Are you going to deny that you were there? I would caution you against lying. We have means of determining the truth. Besides we are here talking to you because we know you were there.”
Kasey fidgeted nervously. It was moments like these that she regretted dropping out of the Academy of Magic. Despite being a witch and knowing that the World of Magic existed, she was woefully unequipped to deal with it. With little understanding of its regulatory body, the Arcane Council, and its powers to enforce its edicts, she had largely avoided interacting with them. Clearly avoidance wouldn't continue to work for her now.
“I see that you have the good sense not to deny it,” Clarke replied. “That saves us a lot of time.”
“What happened to Brad?” Kasey asked.
“Why do you care? Last night you tried to blow him through a wall.”
“I was only trying to protect myself. He was trying to kill me.”
“Or protect himself,” Johnson asserted. “You were, after all, an intruder in his apartment, in the dead of night. We have only your word that he was trying to kill you. One of your civilian courts would certainly charge you and not him.”
“Don't give me that. He's a murderer,” Kasey blurted. “I work with the NYPD. I was simply trying to make sure we hadn't missed anything.” She shook her finger at the wall of steel morgue. “His girlfriend is over there in that drawer. He killed her, and if we don't find something soon, he’ll get away with it.”
Johnson interceded. “That might be true, but it is certainly irrelevant. Mr Tesco won't be harming anyone else, not anytime soon. We wiped his memory and just to be safe, as an extra precaution we had him admitted to a psychiatric facility upstate. It will help him cope with both his memory loss and the trauma of his girlfriend’s death. He won't be a danger to anyone while he’s there.”
Kasey nodded as she tried to process the depth of what the agents had done to Brad. Her lip quivered involuntarily. “What happens to me now?”
Clarke continued when Johnson went silent. “See that you don't cause any further issues, either to Mr Tesco or the Arcane Council, Miss Chase. The ADI tends toward leniency for first offenders, but repeated violations of the Council’s edicts will result in punitive action. Are we understood?”
It was better than Kasey had hoped for. She had expected immediate reprisal on being discovered. To escape with only a stern warning, that she could live with.
“I get it. I will be more careful next time,” Kasey answered.
The two agents stood up, picked up their IDs from the table, straightened their suits and walked to the door.
“There isn't to be a next time, Miss Chase,” Johnson answered, opening the door.
As the men departed, Kasey breathed an audible sigh of relief.
That could have been worse.
“I need a cup of coffee,” Kasey said to the still empty morgue. As she stood to fetch a cup of the ground dirt that passed as station coffee, a familiar voice bellowed down the hallway.
“Kasey, where are you? I've been calling you for hours. We have another body…”
Chapter Seven
Bishop stormed into the morgue. “There you are. Why haven't you been answering your phone?”
Kasey pulled out her phone and saw a half dozen missed calls. In her haste to get out of the house, she hadn't even checked her messages. Clearly, it had been another early start for Bishop.
“I'm sorry. I was just dealing with the boys from the Ar...Internal Affairs,” Kasey said.
“Internal Affairs?” Bishop asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What did they want with you? You're not even a cop.”
“I'm not really sure,” Kasey lied. “They grilled me about my role here in the Department, working cases with you, and policy and procedure for handling evidence. Apparently, they had received a tip about possible misconduct and were just following it up. If I had to guess, I would imagine the Ainsley's were behind it.”
“That family has some serious pull,” Bishop said. “First the mayor's office, and now internal affairs. I’m guessing tomorrow it will be the President.”
“I hope not. The man's a joke,” Kasey answered. “The fact he could even get elected is a searing indictment on the state of politics in this country.”
“Don't even get me started on politics, Kasey. We could be at it all day and I have more important things to do,” Bishop replied, her hand resting on her hip.
“Speaking of which, you mentioned another body?” Kasey asked abandoning her coffee plans.
“Yeah, I was on scene this morning,” Bishop replied making her way over to Kasey. “Might be something but it could be nothing. The boys are bringing the body in now.”
“What do you mean ‘could be nothing’? Obviously, you suspect something. Come on, out with it,” Kasey prodded
“The victim, one Brandy Cahill, was killed in the early hours of this morning in a hit-and-run. It's possible that it was just an accident but based on where we found the body and a lack of damage to the adjacent building, the driver certainly knew they had hit something. It's also unlikely she died instantly, and yet we received no emergency calls to attend to an accident in the area. It's almost as if she was run down on purpose and the perpetrator hung around to ensure no help would be forthcoming. Sounds a little crazy, I know, but I've seen stranger things in my time on the force. I'm definitely leaning away from accident and toward foul play on this one.” Bishop drew a deep breath.
The elevator down the hallway dinged, likely signaling the arrival of the body Bishop had just mentioned. A moment later, the doors opened, and two officers emerged, pushing a gurney. The officers wheeled the body into the room.
The officers backed away. “It's all yours, detective. We are still searching the scene for evidence. We’re hoping that a nearby camera might have caught something, but so far, no leads. We’ll let you know if we find anything.”