Hired Luck

by Mel Todd

  "They had all joined up with a local contest and there was a surprise lunch giveaway where they were guaranteed to be a winner. They were told to come to the fountains and look for the man in the top hat. He would administrate the giveaway."

  Images of the emails and the prizes came up, stressing only a limited number had been selected. That they had to show up to collect their prizes. The list was pretty nice, from gift cards, to season tickets to the Fox Theater, to restaurant certificates.

  "That might make me show up too," Siab admitted. "The email is well formatted, everything is spelled correctly, and the guaranteed winner phrase makes it seem like something a local radio show would do."

  I frowned, looking at it, but I didn't say anything. Alixant did. "Two things. Can we backtrack who sent the emails and figure out how many were sent? It doesn't make sense to only send twenty-seven. Someone might not have shown up or gotten waylaid. It's too complicated. And how did he know they would be near the park at lunch? This is way too complicated to be that narrow."

  "I'm working on that. I can't figure out if he tracked them or if there was something else to get them to come. That is too specific. What if they were late or couldn't get away from work? Nothing has shown up yet."

  Niall muttered, poking at stuff. "I'm still trying to figure out how he knew they were mages. None of them seemed to talk about it on their social groups and they didn't belong to many hedge groups. If he's super tech savvy, we might have issues. Can we get a geek from the IT Crimes group to take a look at it?"

  "Aren't you overthinking this?" I asked looking at them. Did working for the FBI make you paranoid and see Moriarty level complicated schemes everywhere? If so, they really made it much harder than it had to be.

  "What do you mean?" Alixant demanded and they all looked at me again which was the last thing I wanted. At this rate I would be looking forward to school just to get rid of them always giving me looks that were mixes between skepticism and annoyance.

  "He probably sent it to a hundred people. He only needed twenty-seven to show up. They'd all be checking their phones and he just needed to touch them. If his spell worked the way you think, then they would just stand there until he got the illusion up." I shrugged and didn't say anything more. That part was obvious.

  "But how did he target mages?" Alixant challenged.

  "He'd have to have access to the database," Siab said her eyes going wide. "Any chance he hacked the OMO? Can you get records from them of any recent break-ins?"

  "The OMO doesn't share. Anything." The words were all but growled from his mouth.

  "But you're the FBI," I said, a bit confused. Couldn't the FBI do anything or at least get anything they needed?

  "The OMO is an independent, international entity that owes fealty to no one. They don't have to share any information with anyone, and they are draconian about protecting their info. They don't give anything away. If there was a hack, they wouldn't tell anyone, but I wouldn't expect the hacker to have lived long afterward," Alixant muttered getting up and pacing.

  "I can ask. They do have a chat center—they have always been polite but non-helpful," Niall offered, looking dubious.

  "Wow, you guys don't look at anything simply, do you?" I know my voice had exasperation in it, but really.

  "What does that mean?" Niall looked ready to lunge across the desk and strangle me, and his voice had nothing but contempt in it.

  "That the OMO gives out tons of information without any issue," I spat back.

  Niall sneered. " Like what?"

  I sighed and walked back, grabbing my computer. Slowly I copied what Alixant had showed me and threw my screen up on the wall. I pulled out my badge. I'd put all my ID on the back of it and I pulled up the OMO website for official use. Then I typed in my id, carefully. It showed me logged in. I then typed in Niall's name. All his information popped up. His driver’s license, age, ranking, mage skills, and current draft status.

  My bitch side slid out and I smiled at him, a bit smug. "Anyone with official credentials can get access: police, doctors, first responders, schools. Finding out you are a mage with any official access isn't hard. Granted, he might have had to type in a bunch of names, but you can't tell me you couldn't get an automated script to do that or something." I peered back at the screen and saw Options at the top. I clicked it and one of the links invited you to upload a spreadsheet. "Or you could just upload it."

  Niall sagged back, Siab smirked, and Alixant just looked at me.

  Chapter 27

  Don't regard the draft as something evil or even a price you must pay, look at it the same way many people regard the military. Training, a guaranteed job, and if you take the time you can walk out with a career that will provide for the rest of your life. ~ OMO Ad

  The only thing we verified over the next two days was the identification of all the victims and that they were all hedges. All my reading on ritual still went back to the fact that it meant what the caster wanted it to mean. While there were certain forms and customs, they only had power because people believed they did. That set off a vague idea in the back of my brain but I couldn't figure it out.

  Late Thursday afternoon Alixant sighed and handed out badges. "We contacted the con. Here are your badges. Go. Keep your phones on you and make sure that you keep your eyes open. You all have ideas of where the killer might strike. Go and investigate; call out if you see anything at all. The police know you are there, grab them if you need them, and keep your federal ID on you." He paused, then his eyes latched on me. "Cori, come here."

  Everyone had drifted away, chattering about the con so I went over to him. "I don't have time to get you a phone and frankly, for this, keeping your personal is better. Here is everyone's contact information. Get it in your phone and use it. Also, download this secure app." He showed me the one he wanted. "I'll set up a chat group with everyone. I expect you to stay in constant contact - say where you are going, and what is going on."

  "Not an issue, but I don't have any idea what I'll be looking for." I wanted to scream, but nothing would change. I'd read the draft waiver that tied me to him until "my services were no longer critical to resolving this crime".

  "None of us do. But from your marks, you had good instincts when working with the police and we don't know how, or if, they will attack here. No one can come up with a better idea and since we don't have enough proof to get more help, all we can do is try."

  I looked at him and really looked. Mostly I avoided him and never really looked at him, but now I did. His eyes were red and slightly swollen, his circles made him look like he was wearing goth makeup, and even his tie and shirt weren't as pristine as they usually were. He looked like the weight of the world rested on his head.

  "I'll see, but don't count on me to make any difference. I don't know what I'm doing ninety percent of the time."

  He gave me a tired smile that made him look more approachable than I'd seen. "I'll let you in on a secret: Most of us never know what we are doing. We just keep trying and hoping something will work. That's the key to this job, and most jobs, so don't quit trying. And getting the right people." He nodded. "Go enjoy tonight, tomorrow just show up at the con and go where you think it feels right. Right now, leave the logical stuff to us. You lean on your instincts."

  "Will do."

  So much for having fun during the con if I was constantly double guessing myself and trying to figure out where I should go. Oh, well, just going would be neat. Maybe next year we could plan on trying again if we enjoyed it. I slipped out of the office before anyone could say anything more. I spent the bus ride carefully entering all the data. It was a lot. I got home at almost the same time as Jo. "Hey. So, I get to go to the con, but I gotta work." I held up my badge. "But do you want to go get yours? You can at least enjoy your long weekend before going back to school Tuesday." It was Memorial Day weekend, so Jo had Monday off.

  "By Merlin, yes. I need away from this crap. My head is going to explode, or I'm going
to fail." Her voice had a bitter tinge to it that surprised me.

  "Jo? What's wrong?" I touched her shoulder, but she pulled away shaking her head. Her dark hair looked uneven near the bottom where there were a few chunks missing.

  "Nothing. Just school stress. Only a month in and I feel like I'm drowning in homework. Yeah, let's go get badges and have a fun weekend. Maybe party a little, drink a little, forget that I have all this school shit on top of me."

  That sounded more like Jo, but it was still a bit off. "Well, you get to do that. Me, I'll be working and looking for a killer."

  She paused in the midst of dropping her stuff. "Do I need to be worried?"

  "Yes, no? He or she hasn't gone after any high-ranking mages, but I'd be careful and make sure you leave if anything feels off. Wander a lot. He's going to want people in a contained area."

  "How serious is this?" Her brows knitted together in a frown, watching me.

  We had bounced around the idea of shutting down the con, but with no proof, and only an idea that it was the killer’s target, there was no way we could stop it. Not to mention the financial impact that would have on everyone involved. There were enough people that we might not even know it happened until hours afterward.

  "A strong hunch? I mean, there will be a lot of people there. It would be an excellent hunting ground, but the odds of him picking any one person, if he is there? Well, one in eighty-five thousand."

  Jo snorted. "I'll take my chances." She glanced down at her tank top and shorts. "Screw it, I'm ready."

  "You look fine," I said, rolling my eyes.

  "Ah, I need to look sexy and drool-worthy but that is just too much work right now."

  I dropped off my stuff. My badge hung on a lanyard around my neck and we started walking. The city wrapped hot and stifling around us but I enjoyed being outside. Sitting in the office the last few days made me ache to be outside and moving.

  "So, we haven't talked much lately. How you handling the whole mage thing?" She gestured at my head.

  "It sucks. Everyone looks at me funny and people keep thinking I know how to do things. I don't have the slightest idea and it still doesn't make sense. If I could, I'd just go back to being an EMT."

  "Oh, I feel that. I'd love to be back in the shop under a truck right now." The unmistakable desire in her voice made me shoot her a narrow-eyed look.

  "What aren't you telling me?" We were at a crosswalk near the Hilton, and the people walking by snagged my attention. Thursday afternoon and already people were in costume.

  "Nothing. Sorry. I’m just overwhelmed. It's harder getting into the school flow after being out for a few years. I miss working and knowing I'm earning a paycheck. This stipend stuff is annoying, and I've never been a fan of writing papers."

  I laughed a bit. "Which is why I usually did half the writing for you. Your spelling is atrocious."

  "Yeah. That," she muttered, then straightened up. "Enough. There is a con full of cute women—maybe I'll find someone and we'll hit it off."

  "There's a robot track."

  She half stumbled, turning back to look at me. "A robot track?"

  "Yep, they build them and compete to see which robot can destroy all the others. Robot Wars, I think."

  "Oh, now that sounds fascinating. What are we waiting for? There are robots to build and destroy!" Her pace picked up and we followed the stream of people to the Sheraton. It didn't take too long to get the badge, and both of us were more interested in watching the people around us than worrying about the line.

  For me, people glanced at my clothes and didn't seem to care about what marked my temples. I saw people with mage symbols on their clothes, a few merlins, some wearing symbols only as jewelry, and some from other countries based on the languages they spoke. For the first time since they branded me, I felt like me, not something to fear.

  "I think I should get a costume," I blurted out, looking at some of the pretty clothes. I didn't want to wear anything that was barely there, like a few of them, but some outfits looked amazing.

  "Oh, you can find a bunch of the more mainstream stuff when the dealer halls open tomorrow. Or if you want to learn to make it yourself find the costuming track. It's a blast," a person walking past us said, winking at both of us and continuing on, her tail swaying back and forth as she moved on.

  There was a long pause and Jo swallowed hard enough I heard her over the ambient noise. "I suddenly need to own a tail." Her eyes glued to the ass of the woman turning the corner ahead of us, tail twitching.

  I started to giggle. I couldn't help it. "Never change, Jo. I hope you find what you’re looking for."

  She turned and shot me a look. "I promise you, anyone I fall head over heels for only makes it if she loves you as much as I do. As far as I'm concerned, you are part of my life, always. Ooh, we can be a triad, and you can be the sarcastic, sane one."

  That just made me giggle more and I wrapped my arm around her waist leaning my head for a moment against her shoulder. "I love you."

  "I know," she said at the same time five other people around us said it. It took a long minute to click and then we began to laugh, tears streaming down our faces.

  It took us a while to get it back under control, and the looks we received were half wary glances and half winks and grins. I started to see why this con was so popular. It set the mood for the rest of that night.

  We were amazed at how much of the con had already kicked off. Jo flirted, and laughed, and was happier than I'd seen her in ages. Nothing made me look twice thinking it was the killer, though I noted a few pop-up things that might have potential for danger over the weekend. But for that night, I ignored everything and just enjoyed having a great evening with my best friend. We drank too much, found out more about things I'd never heard of and that I now wanted to learn about. We were exposed to a world that didn't just weigh your magical ranking or your sexual interests. When we stumbled home at three A.M., I didn't think I had ever had a better day. And tomorrow was only Friday.

  Chapter 28

  While the original draft did not require college, after about two decades of service, someone in the Department of Defense noted that those with hard science degrees prior to being drafted tended to survive their draft assignment, while those fresh from high school or blue-collar jobs did not. Further research showed that understanding exactly what you were trying to do, rather than waving your hand and saying “magic words”, reduced the death rate among mages. ~ History of Magic

  I stood looking at the people collapsed around me. The screaming rebounded off the walls and made it hard to think. My gaze snared on the man lying at my feet and I snapped into triage mode. I'd made sure I kept a mini first-aid kit with me, and I ripped it out with one hand. The other grabbed my phone as I slammed to my knees next to him.

  "Call Alixant!" I had to scream over the sounds, but the phone caught my demand and dialed. I pulled out the gloves from the kit, snapping them on and assessing the victim.

  Late twenties, breathing, marks on face seared in. Looks like an activated chemical burn.

  I patted him down, looking for any other injuries, and saw motion on my phone. The video call had activated, and I didn't waste time figuring out how. Instead I looked at it occasionally as I spoke. Well screamed. "Alixant, victims, Centennial Ballrooms One and Two. No order to where they fell this time." Again, I was all but shouting as people panicked around me, but I ignored them. If you were with it enough to run around and scream, you weren't my concern.

  We'd been in the room for a panel for a sci-fi show I enjoyed. I snuck in at the end, wanting to sit for a few minutes because my feet hurt. Saturday had been exhausting, full of people so tight that breathing felt difficult. Friday had been busy, but Saturday the con slammed into you like a physical thing. The crowds of people, the costumes, the sounds, the smells, the atmosphere—they all combined to strike me as hard as a blow. Yet it was addictive and heady and part of me never wanted it to end.

  Even thoug
h I longed to explore on my own and only care about my own desires as I drifted from panel to panel, exhibit to dealer room, parade to auctions, I paid attention and looked for something. But nothing had struck me as odd or weird. Or more accurately, everything had struck me as odd and fascinating.

  But here, something had flashed across my awareness and people had collapsed like dropped cooked spaghetti. I didn't know what it was and I didn't have time to track it down. People were dying.

  "On our way, do you see anything?"

  "No! Focusing on the victims. So many. But can't count." My voice was fading having to shout, but the noise started to lessen, and I could feel my skin crawling as something changed.

  "Cori, find the mage. That's more important now. Are there rips? You have to look, see what is around." Someone rushed by me and kicked the phone, it spun away, and I didn't care. This man was in a comatose state, breathing, and the only wound I could see was the blood and ichor seeping from the raw wounds on his face. I didn't know enough to even attempt to use my magic to do anything. Another victim lay a few feet from me, a female with a man holding her hand and freaking out. I crawled over to them. My body almost vibrating with pain as I felt waves of power hitting me, but her choking grabbed my attention first. People always had priority.

  A bottle of water lay on the floor and I grabbed it, tentatively pouring a little water on the green substance still on her face. It washed away a bit and she wiggled, her body shaking.

  It's gotta be an activated paralytic agent. And what else?

  "Did she have something on her face? Something that might be blocking this?"

  The young man, his hand wrapped around her so tightly I wondered if she'd have broken bones if she lived, nodded. "Heavy sealed base paint. She has bad acne and uses stuff that takes a special face wash to remove."

  That might have saved her life.

  I handed him a pair of gloves and the water. "Get it off of her as quickly as you can, but don't get any on yourself." I checked her pulse, but other than her obvious distress and pain, I couldn't see any other injuries.