Kicking It

RUBY RED A Darque Files Story BY KALAYNA PRICE

Set in the world of the Alex Craft Novels

I shucked my singed jacket and dropped it on the cheap hotel carpet. Ruined. Damn. My pants weren’t any better. The acrid scent of scorched leather engulfed me. Wrinkling my nose, I considered stripping and hitting the shower without acknowledging the man sitting in the obligatory armchair found in every hotel room across the country. The blinds were open behind him, which allowed him to read the document in his lap with the final rays of evening sun.

“You could have warned me about the fire elemental,” I said as I checked the condition of my boots. Salvageable.

Derrick Knight, my partner and fellow investigator in the Magical Crimes Investigation Bureau, looked up for the first time and grimaced. “You’ve handled elementals before.” He frowned. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No.” I unlaced my boots. They had a little scorching, but would clean up okay. “But if you want one Briar Darque, extra crispy, I know where to look.”

“I didn’t know about the fire elemental, Briar.” The words lacked both sympathy for my situation and amusement at my last statement as Derrick went back to reading the document in his lap.

Well, if he was going to sit in my room and ignore me, I was losing the charred pants. I stripped and tossed the pants on the floor with my jacket. The charms in the clothing had protected me from the flames, but damn, I was really going to miss that outfit. Now I’d need to tweak the spells worked into my backup jacket.

Across the room, Derrick cleared his throat. I turned, still pantless, and found his gaze locked on his document—desperately so, judging by the tightness on his face. He’d seen me half-naked—or worse—before, but I took pity on the guy and grabbed a pair of yoga pants from my luggage.

Derrick was doubly wyrd, which meant that on top of normal witch powers, he had two abilities he couldn’t completely control. It was rare to have two wyrd abilities. And in my business rare usually meant one of two things: The MCIB recruited you or they sent someone like me after you.

The first ability was premonition, and as he’d recently celebrated his thirty-first birthday without going bat-shit insane, he was considered to be well above the curve. The second ability was more difficult. He had been born with touch clairvoyance, which was why it was cruel for me to show off a lot of flesh around him. The clairvoyance was a little spotty, but when he touched an object or person, half the time he flashed into their history or memory. Occasionally useful on cases, it was typically only a hindrance to, well, living. Anything he planned to touch had to be either new—thus no strong events or emotions tied to it—or his. Which meant he always carried a pair of gloves, he brought whatever he might eat with him to restaurants, supplied his own bedding at hotels, and special ordered his clothes. And skin to skin contact? Nope, definitely not. With all the travel, my dating life was minimal. His dating life? About nil. Of course—who knew?—maybe he had a long-distance thing going on. We didn’t really talk about personal stuff.

I glanced at him once I’d pulled on the pants and then stopped. “Oh, no. You’ve got that look.”

He didn’t bother asking me which look—he damn well knew.

A case.

I stepped to the bed and meticulously removed my weapons, checking each before placing it with the quickly amassing collection spread over my comforter. “I guess any chance of us getting our promised vacation is slim?”

“If we keep catching emergency cases, probably.”

Right. I held the title of investigator, but my real job was to intervene when a witch went off the rails and the shit hit the proverbial fan—that typically involved a witch pulling something out of one of the other planes of existence. I’d already eliminated two elementals and arrested a witch who fancied himself a summoner since my attempted vacation began. Couldn’t the bad guys take a break long enough for me to take one?

Removing the last of my knives, I left the bed and my rows of weapons as I moved to the open space in the room. Taking a deep breath to center myself, I spread my legs to a shoulder-width distance before hanging my torso downward so I could hug my legs in a deep stretch.

“So, what’s the case?” I asked, still upside down.

Derrick flipped back to the first page of the file. “Recently there was an outbreak of what was originally assumed to be an unknown contagion that reduced the victim from healthy to comatose in under twelve hours. A virus or bacteria has been ruled out as the cause, and it is now clear that a spell is responsible for the victims’ conditions.”

“So I’ll be looking for an unknown witch who for whatever reason is causing an epidemic.” It sounded easy enough. In fact, it probably should have gone to a different team—a team not on vacation.

“There’s more,” Derrick said as he flipped a few pages. “There have been reports of ‘smoke creatures’ in the shadows at night.”

Despite his finger quotes, I couldn’t help repeating, “Smoke creatures? What are we talking about? Air elementals? Djinn?”

Derrick shrugged without looking up. “I haven’t found a more concrete description—just that they have magical signatures consistent with a human witch, so they fall under our purview.”

I processed that as I changed from stretching to yoga and moved into warrior pose. “They have a sensitive working the case?”

Derrick shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard. All these readings came from detector charms. Also, I visited the hospital and gathered what information I could about the victims. I’m working on a time line to find where they might have encountered our unknown witch.”

“You started a new case before I’d tied up the last?”

“I looked into it just a bit while you were out.”

Out. Yeah, out meant I was risking my life hunting bad guys Derrick encountered only through research done at a safe distance. But Derrick had his job, and I had mine. And I wasn’t complaining. After all, mine came with a kick-ass crossbow, top-of-the-line weaponized spells, and a killer wardrobe—well, the last had had some recent casualties, but I’d remedy that the first chance I got.

I nodded to my partner, showing I held no hard feelings.

“It sounds like you’re still in the first steps of reconnaissance.” Which meant I wouldn’t be hunting yet.

Maybe I’d get a day or two of vacation after all.

I didn’t get that vacation.

The next night I found myself sitting in a parked rental Hummer wishing there was a Chinese take-out place nearby. But no, the case put me in Central York. According to the signs, the town was a “Suburban Paradise.” I could see why someone would make that claim; Central York was mostly houses. Streets and streets of rainbow-colored houses and perfectly manicured lawns turned the town into a carefully designed grid of homes. The “rebels” in the town had added an extra flower bed to their yards, making them stand out fractionally. Home Owners Associations were bad enough, but to move anywhere in this town you had to practically sign away your personality. This place looks more like Suburban Hell.

Of course, Central York wasn’t entirely houses—there was a community tennis court, a golf course, a park in the town center, one retrofitted movie theater, a post office, two government buildings, a couple of delicatessens, and three diners. That was it. Definitely no Chinese—or any other decent takeout—and I guessed only enough jobs for a fraction of the population.

They must commute. After all, Central York, while it might have been granted the status of a town, was really just one developer’s wet dream in downtown New York City. In Central Park to be exact. No one fully understood how the Magical Awakening seventy years ago had caused areas all over the world to unfold and reveal more space. Magic. I shook my head. However it occurred, it was an undeniable fact that if you walked around the outside of Central Park it was exactly the size history books claimed, but if you walked through the center you wound up in Central York.

The police scanner on my dash crackled, as the dispatcher announced a domestic dispute. Two cars responded, and then the scanner went quiet again. I’d been parked for several hours and this was only the second call I’d heard all night.

“Wow, it’s dead here,” I said to no one in particular. I had my windows open, but there was no one on the street to hear me. It was like the sidewalks had rolled up at nightfall. Was there a curfew or—“Have the attacks scared you into your homes?”

There were smoke creatures in the shadows after dark. Not that I’d seen one. Yet.

That was why I was hunting tonight. We didn’t have enough intel on the creatures, and Derrick couldn’t dig up more. Short of a premonition hitting him, the only way we would learn what I was facing was if I bagged one. So, I hunted. Rather passively, unfortunately.

I’d rather have been on the street, but I had no idea how to track the creatures yet. No idea of the territory yet either as the places they’d been spotted appeared random. Which left me only one option—follow on the cops’ trail. So I waited, the Hummer parked to save gas instead of cruising the streets.

Efficiency. Great in theory. In practice I was bored. And my ass was falling asleep. I wanted to be moving, to be doing something. Anything.

I considered the neighborhood around me. I could roam, just a little ways, but I wouldn’t be able to respond as fast if the dispatcher put out a call about the creatures. I glanced from the neighborhood to the scanner and back again. “You couldn’t pay me to live here.” The monotony made the place so very boring. Of course, that same trait gave the residents a certain anonymity, and I excelled at going unnoticed. What with my average height and build and average shade of brown hair and eyes, people tended to forget me as soon as I was out of sight. And that was without adding in my various obfuscation charms. Shaking my head, I amended my earlier statement. “Okay, maybe you could pay me to live here. But I’d have to travel. A lot.”

That trivial decision made, I double-checked the charms and weapons I had on me. It was typically a calming activity, but tonight it didn’t cut through my impatience.

“Come on,” I said, shooting the scanner a hard stare.

As if my glare had power, the scanner crackled again before the dispatcher’s voice filled the Hummer.

“Attention all cars in the vicinity of Blossom and Noir, an unknown entity was spotted at—”

Finally.

I spotted the telltale blue lights that indicated I’d reached my destination long before the GPS could announce I’d arrived. The Hummer didn’t have lights or tags—obviously, as it was only a rental—but I still pulled it as close to Robin Street as I could. Then I parked in the middle of the street. Who was going to ticket or tow the Hummer while we chased a creature of unknown origin?

After jumping out of the vehicle, I forced myself to walk, not run, toward the largest gathering of cops. You don’t run toward groups of freaked-out people with guns. The situation rarely ended well. Some of the officers looked up at my approach, but it was the two plainclothes Anti–Black Magic Unit agents who moved to block my path.

“I’m sorry but this area is currently restricted. Please—,” a tall agent with ruffled blond hair told me. But I noticed he didn’t actually look at me; his attention was on something over my left shoulder.

Cutting him off, I pulled my badge and held it above my head. “I’m Inspector Darque from the MCIB.”

The intersection went silent at my announcement. Now the agent looked at me.

“Thank goodness,” a rookie cop said, breaking the silence.

I glanced at him. His caramel-colored skin looked slightly washed-out as if something had scared the blood from his face. He also barely looked old enough to be wearing a uniform. I gave him a smile and a wink as I pocketed my badge. After all, we were both paid to take risks, but I was paid very well to take the more extreme ones.

“Bring me up to speed,” I said as I approached the two ABMU agents. There were grumbles from several officers who clearly considered the scene theirs, but I was dealing with a magical enemy. Many of the officers were probably plain vanilla human norms without a drop of magic in their blood, maybe a few were witches, but the agents were guaranteed to be witches and were experienced in dealing with corrupt magic.

The tall agent looked me up and down, and the crinkling around his brown eyes told me he was less than impressed. He didn’t offer his hand, but said, “I’m Agent Tayler and this is Agent Kelvis. We have agents and officers on the other end of this street as well. The creature was active when the first responders arrived and they managed to get tape enchanted with a barrier spell laid and activated, so we hope we’ve trapped the creature. Unfortunately, two of the officers and one pedestrian were hurt before the barrier went up.”

I raised my eyebrow and shot a doubtful glance at the barrier tape. It blocked the road and would have prevented a car from gaining entrance to the side street, but what would stop the creature from just stepping off the road and walking around the barrier? I knew practically nothing about what was plaguing this town, so I held my opinion to myself. For now.

“You said three people were injured? Can you describe the injuries?” Sometimes I could learn as much or more by what a summoned or created creature could do than by seeing the creature itself. The important word there being sometimes.

“I don’t have to describe them,” Agent Tayler said as he started toward the mass of parked cop cars. “They’re still here. A hospital is something the residents are fighting to have built. Until then, the ambulance has to make it here from the city. Lucky for you though, because the boys are still resting in their car.” He pressed his lips together and then gnawed at the top lip as he released the bottom. “So what do you think these creatures are?”

“Don’t know. I haven’t seen one yet.”

Tayler nodded me toward the vehicle closest to the barricaded street. I headed in that direction, anxious to check on the wounds and then pass the barriers to search out the creature. If it’s still here. Stopping beside the passenger door, I grabbed the door handle, pulling hard.

Locked.

I knocked on the window, but the man in the seat didn’t move. He was sitting with both of his legs tucked to his chest, his face buried in his knees with his arms hugging his legs while further obscuring his face. Neither the civilian in the backseat nor the officer in the driver’s seat appeared any more inclined to open the door than the passenger. The man in the back lay in a fetal position, his gaze locked on the ceiling. He didn’t even blink when I pounded on the window.

“Agent, do you have a key to this car? And why are these people alone and sitting if they’re injured?”

“For the latter, you’ll see soon enough. No to the former, but I’ll see if someone else does.” He all but marched toward the crowd of officers. It was a highly controlled tantrum, and I assumed he’d been the agent in charge before I showed up. For dealing with the creature or the witch who’d brought it into this town, my badge trumped Tayler’s. Some people just didn’t take that well.

One by one, the officers glanced at where I stood, shaking their heads. Then one officer stepped forward and made his way toward the car and me. It was the young officer who’d spoken earlier. I was glad to see that he wasn’t quite so ashen anymore.

“Hello, ma’am,” he said, ducking his head in a small bow.

“Please don’t call me ma’am. My mother is a ma’am.” I paused. “You don’t really think I’m that old, do you?”

“Oh, no ma’a—Inspector. In fact, I’d love to take you to dinner while you’re in town.”

Now that surprised me. I eyed the kid—okay, he was definitely a man, but he was a very young one. And a cute one. But he was simply too young—I’d feel guilty if I started a short affair with him. Still, I was flattered. And I had to give him credit for his nerve. He might have been uneasy about facing a magical creature, but I had walked in and taken over the scene, and he’d asked me out before he even knew my first name. Ballsy.

“Thanks but—” I stopped. The kid’s gaze had dropped from my face, but he didn’t look like he was undressing me with his eyes. It was more like he was navigating a particularly hard puzzle. I glanced at the bandolier of vials slung across my chest, each vial containing a nasty magical cocktail. Then there were a set of throwing stars as well as two sets of throwing daggers—all enchanted—and my tactical belt filled with more vials, customized spelled darts for my crossbow, more weapons I’d picked up over the years, and some basic necessity charms like a spell checker and a lie detector. And that was just what was visible where my jacket gaped open. It was part of my regular hunting attire, so I rarely thought about how unusual so many weaponized spells could appear. Which is why my weapons and gear are hidden by spells. He shouldn’t have noticed them.

Except he had.

“What do you see?”

The young officer jerked his gaze upward, as if he’d only now realized he’d been staring in the general area of my breasts. He cleared his throat, and if he’d had a lighter complexion, I would have sworn he blushed. “I, uh, I was looking at your weapons—the spelled ones. I’ve never seen a . . . display like that. But, uh, you needed the key to the cruiser.”

He held it out. I accepted the key but shook my head. “You’re not going to slip away that easy, kid.”

“Russell.”

“Huh?”

“My name, it’s Russell. Russell Lancaster.”

I nodded to acknowledge the name. A few minutes ago I wouldn’t have bothered remembering. The last two minutes had changed that. But there was still one more test. I pulled a vial from my bandolier. “What can you tell me about this?” I asked as I passed the vial to him—carefully.

“Whoa, this . . .” He made a face and moved the vial so he held it between two fingers. “It feels like fire, only hotter. More destructive.”

I didn’t try to stop the smile that tugged at my lips. It was a real one after all, and those were rare. Russell stumbled back at my expression. It may have been a real smile but it must have been one of my more predatory. The vial shook in his fingers and I grabbed it from him before he dropped it. Now that would have been a mess.

“You’re a good sensitive,” I said, taming my smile into something I hoped looked professional. I didn’t do professional often. “Are you interested in a little work on the side? I might be able to use you on this case.” Or I might not, but it was always good to have a sensitive waiting in the wings.

“Sure.” Russell leaned back, one hand moving to his belt. “Let’s swap phones and program our digits.”

Not happening. I carried only an emergency phone with me on hunts. It had one programmed number: Derrick’s. Two people call in, Derrick and my boss back at MCIB. No one else. It was a safety precaution. A phone going off at the wrong time could prove deadly in my profession.

I did have a regular cell back at the hotel, but I wasn’t about to give Russell the number. I had enough trouble with my mom calling me at all hours—she could never keep up with which time zone I was in—I did not need random calls from a rookie officer with the CYPD.

“How about you just write down your number.”

Russell’s posture deflated, but he was smart enough not to try to insist. Pulling out a small memo pad from his pocket, he scribbled his number and handed it across to me. I glanced at it long enough to ensure it was legible before tucking it away. With a nod, I ended that portion of the conversation and turned back to the task at hand.

The victims. Then the creature.

“Stick around, Russell. Your sensitivity to magic might come in useful as I examine these guys,” I said, and unlocked the cruiser door, unsure of what I’d find inside.

I stepped back from the officer who’d been in the driver’s seat of the cruiser. “I don’t see a mark on her.”

“They’re all like that,” Agent Tayler said, joining me in the street.

The female officer’s gaze didn’t lift with our words. She just continued to stare blankly at the ground. She didn’t even bother to wipe her tear-soaked cheeks, which glistened in the streetlights. She just stood there as if she were empty. The biggest response I’d received from her had been a half shrug when I’d asked where she’d been hurt.

Still, all of that was better than the two men—they were so locked away in their own heads that I hadn’t been able to talk either out of the car. I frowned, thinking about what Derrick had told me about the hospitalized victims.

“These guys are headed toward catatonic, aren’t they?”

Agent Tayler nodded in answer, and we stood in silence.

Damn, what kind of creature is haunting this town? I shook my head. I hadn’t encountered anything like this before. Of course I was getting only portions of the picture. A few more pieces and maybe I’d start recognizing something.

“You sensing anything, Officer Lancaster?” I asked, glancing at Russell.

His face filled with opposing lines as he scrunched his brow while frowning. I started to tell him not to hurt himself, but stopped before opening my mouth. He was a big boy. Surely he knew the limits of his abilities.

After a moment he huffed out a breath and stepped back. “It . . . I can’t explain exactly. It is kind of like they have magical . . . holes.” He shook his head and again stepped back. “Something was taken.”

Yeah, their will to exist. I didn’t say it aloud though. No point stating a guess. If I was wrong, that was all anyone would ever remember.

Nodding, I turned on my heels and headed toward the barricade. Agent Tayler and Officer Lancaster both hurried to keep up. Tayler I expected, but it was time for the officer to go back to the other cops unless he wanted a crash course in monster hunting. He seemed to realize that as well because his steps became shorter, slower, until several yards stretched between us.

“Hey,” he said, stopping completely, “when should I expect—”

I cut him off. “If I need a sensitive, I’ve got your number.” I turned to Agent Tayler. “I’m going behind your barricade. Will you or your fellow agents be joining me?”

Tayler’s eyes narrowed, making them small and dark in the moonlight. He’d taken the question as a challenge, which, admittedly, it was. Of course, all he saw was an average-looking woman in leather—he couldn’t see that I was armed to the teeth.

He met with his partner, exchanging words too quiet for me to hear. Then he said something into a two-way radio before turning back to me.

“Ready?” I asked, already knowing the answer before his sharp nod.

It was time to go behind the safety point. Now, just to hope their little trap had caught something.

Well, as I suspected from the beginning, it was a badly constructed trap. Or maybe they were just unlucky. Either way, the ABMU guys—a third had joined us from the opposite barricaded entrance—and I searched every dark inch of that street.

I held my spell checker out in front of me, focusing on the shadows. The small bead in the center didn’t light up—neither, I noticed, did the two ABMU agents’ detectors. The irony of the situation was that the spell checkers had a range of only a foot or two and could tell me nothing more than if a spell was malicious or not, but back behind the barricade was a sensitive whose range was likely several yards and who could not only sense the nature of a spell, but also what it did, if Russell was half as good as he appeared to be. As the tool was available, I was sorely tempted to use it, but I didn’t want to put the kid in danger. It wasn’t his job to hunt monsters. It was mine.

Once it became painfully clear there was nothing to find, I put away my spell checker and said good-bye to the agents. They stayed behind, still searching. And I hoped they would find something—I didn’t actually think they would, but best of luck to them. If they made any discoveries, either Derrick or I would learn of it soon enough.

I cruised the streets of Central York for an hour or two, watching the shadows. I saw nothing unusual and no more sightings were announced by the dispatcher. As late rapidly changed to early, I turned the Hummer around. This town didn’t have a hotel, so I had a ways to go before I would reach my bed. The hunt would just have to wait until tomorrow night.

This case might take longer than I’d hoped.

I stopped in front of the connecting door between Derrick’s and my hotel rooms. Our habit was to keep the doors open when we were awake and working a case, but his was still stubbornly closed. Considering I was the one who’d spent the last three nights out on fruitless hunts, he should have been up before me. Hell, even when I wasn’t hunting through the night he was up before me. There was only one situation in which he slept in: when he had a premonition.

Using a simple spell I carried in a ring, I unlocked the door and entered Derrick’s room. The curtains were drawn tight, casting most of the room in deep shadows. The only light poured out of the doorway where I stood; it was just enough to frame Derrick’s form in the bed. At a glance I knew I hadn’t woken him, and I stole a moment to admire the toned flesh on display. We were partners, so I’d never let him see me look at him like that, but damn, the man was gorgeous. The sheets were his—sultry red—and as usual, he slept in the buff.

He’d had a rough night if the twisted and fallen sheets were any indication. Of course that left only more—as in nearly all—of him on display. My gaze stole several moments to glide over the sleek muscles of his back, down to the half-covered outline of his ass, and then onward over the sheet until his strong legs reappeared. He was a thing of beauty—and that wasn’t just my relationship-starved hunger talking. Constantly traveling for cases wasn’t conducive to finding—or keeping—a boyfriend. With a sigh I also noted the signs of distress in my partner’s sleeping form: the way one arm covered his face, the shimmer of sweat on his skin, and the clenched fists.

Walking across the room, I opened the blinds, filling the room with light. He still didn’t wake, so I headed to the bathroom next. I grabbed his bottle of painkillers from the sink and a pint glass. The first I opened and the second I filled half full of water.

“Hey, Derrick. Wake up,” I said as I reentered the room.

No response. Not even a shift in his sleep-heavy breathing.

I tried again, with the same results. While this much flesh on display made for good eye candy, it also prevented me from shaking him awake. Not that I hadn’t been in this situation before.

Setting the open pill bottle on the bedside table, I dumped a bit of the water in my palm, let it run down my fingers, and then made a flicking motion. Water droplets flung from my fingers and Derrick jerked backward with a loud inhalation.

“What—?” Derrick blinked several times before groaning and running a hand over his eyes and down to the dark stubble forming on his chin. “I had a premonition.”

“I assumed that much,” I said, moving the painkillers and glass closer.

He took both with a nod of thanks. Then he dumped several pills onto his palm, not bothering to count before tossing them back and washing them down. Wow, the premonition must have been intense.

I considered waiting in the room for him to tell me what he’d learned—though it may have nothing to do with our case—but he’d no doubt appreciate a chance to dress. If he had any important information, he’d hurry.

I was halfway through cleaning and reassembling my crossbow when the doors dividing our rooms opened and a now clean and dressed Derrick emerged.

“So,” I said, setting down my crossbow so I could give my partner my full attention. “Did your premonition pertain to our case?”

“Yes, but you aren’t going to like it.”

Sometimes Derrick’s visions were specific. This time? Less so. All he knew—or at least, all he shared—was that I’d find out something important at the No Bull Vegetarian Diner. He didn’t know when or how I’d learn this crucial info, but he said solving the case hinged on my presence in the diner.

The idea of more waiting, possibly a lot of waiting, didn’t appeal to me, but how could I argue? Premonitions weren’t something that could be fudged—it was the future. You try to change it, and the vision already took that into account.

Which was why, two hours later I was sliding into a corner booth at No Bull. I hadn’t been sure if I was on a recon trip or a hunt, so I’d played it safe and went full hunt mode. That included all my obfuscation spells, which while I wasn’t exactly invisible—true invisibility charms tended to have a high fail rate—I might as well have been. I was cloaked with a spell that wrapped shadows around me, a look-away charm, and if anyone did manage to see through those, I had a spell that made me even harder to remember than normal. I’d also activated my muffling charm.

The diner wasn’t huge. It had maybe a dozen booths along the front, a handful of tables in the center, and a milk-shake bar to one side. The seat I’d chosen gave me a decent view of the whole place, with all its shiny chrome and cartoonish art in the style of Roy Lichtenstein. The booths and tables held only a scattering of patrons, but the milk-shake bar was packed. And a milk shake sounded good, but I resisted. I was on a stakeout after all.

The bell on the door tinkled softly and a young couple entered. Their eyes skittered over my booth without stopping before they picked a booth halfway between the door and me. A dumpy-looking waitress in a salmon-colored uniform took her time waddling up to the couple. I watched as she took their drink orders before heading toward the kitchen and I gave a mental groan. There was nothing sinister or suspicious about this place or the people in it.

Not yet, at least.

The dinner rush started a little before six. No Bull filled quickly, a line forming at the front. No one questioned the empty—looking—back booth. With the crowd came a second waitress. Unlike the one who’d been on the clock since I arrived, this girl was all energy and smiles. She danced from table to table as she took orders and delivered food. I was rather surprised considering she was wearing totally impractical footwear for a waitress. I hated the term “do-me heels” but I couldn’t think of any other description. They were bright red with four-inch, pencil-thin heels, and they didn’t match her uniform.

As I was looking for anything unusual or out of place, the shoes were suspicious. And they were the only unusual thing I’d seen so far today.

This seriously can’t come down to a pair of stilettos? I’d been hunting shadow creatures for half a week and they were somehow tied up with a giddy waitress who liked heels? It didn’t seem credible, and yet, I had to find a way to confirm or eliminate her as the unknown witch culprit. Which means I need to get my hands on those shoes.

The bell on the door chimed again, and I tore my gaze off the waitress. I’d intended to study the new patron, but I already knew this one.

Derrick.

He didn’t bother looking at the patrons, but, if I judged his studying gaze correctly, he evaluated the room as a whole. He turned in my direction and headed past first one, then two, three booths until he stood at the final booth. He slipped into the seat across from me and then twisted so he could rest his back against the wall with his feet in the aisle.

Without looking in my direction he said, “With the wall behind it and with this being the only booth without a panel window, this is probably the most defensible place in the room. It also has the best vantage point.” He ran a hand through his short hair, further mussing it, and then shot a smile in my direction. “So, drop the charms and tell me how brilliant I am, Darque.”

I deactivated my charms and spells.

“Eh,” I said, swiping a hand casually through the air, “I guess you’ve learned a thing or two working with me the last few years. What are you doing here, Knight?”

He shrugged and picked up a menu, his hands already gloved. “I thought I’d come help you with your surveillance.”

“In our five years as partners you’ve never once joined me on a case.” That earned another shrug from him, and apprehension gathered like a winding spring in my chest. “What else did you see in that premonition?”

Whatever he was going to say was cut short by the appearance of our waitress—and not the happy one as her section was the opposite half of the diner. I ordered a strawberry milk shake but Derrick passed on both food and drink. That didn’t improve our waitress’s mood.

Once she’d gone, I turned toward my partner. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Did you see the other waitress’s heels?”

“I’m guessing you haven’t suddenly become interested in fashion, so are you asking because you think they might be pertinent to our case or because you know they are?”

“If I’d seen anything else that would help you, I’d tell you.” He frowned. Then he swiveled back around in his seat and rose. “This was a mistake. Enjoy your hunt.”

“See you back at the hotel.”

He stared at me, shaking his head. “Here, take this.” He handed me a small disk on a chain. It was the materials he used for healing charms. Was I going to get hurt or was someone I was with going to be? He’d never given me a healing charm before I was injured before.

I lifted an eyebrow but the waitress returned with my shake before anything else could be said. I thanked her dismissively and then thought better of it.

“Hey, what’s her story?” I asked our waitress as I nodded toward her coworker.

“Who, Vicky?” She scowled at the other woman and Derrick sank back into his seat. “You’d never know she took a bottle of pills and washed them down with vodka just a couple weeks ago. Had to have her stomach pumped. Then she gets released and she comes back here and flutters around.” She wiped her hand on her apron before turning back to me and leaning closer, as if we were discussing some conspiracy. “I tell you what—I don’t know what they gave her at that hospital, but I want some.”

“Is she a witch?”

The waitress stepped back, giving me a stunned look. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

I shrugged and picked up my milk shake. She took the hint and waddled away from the table. As I sipped silently, Derrick nodded at me.

“What, you thought you were the only one who could gather intel?” I asked as I set down the shake.

He ignored that, twisting to look over his shoulder at Vicky, the perky waitress. “She really is very happy. How sad is it that happiness is part of what makes her suspicious?”

I couldn’t disagree. I also had a hard time imagining her being responsible for more than a dozen hospitalizations and for releasing shadow creatures. Every patron she served seemed happier for having interacted with her.

Derrick ran his hand through his hair again, making more clumps stand on end. “What do you plan to do?”

“Short of walking up and plugging her with a sleeping charm, I can’t think of any way to check the shoes for spells.”

“Yeah, that would be about as discreet as dropping a house on her.”

He said it while I was in the middle of sipping my shake and I barely choked down the half-frozen liquid around my laugh. I covered my mouth to cover my half laugh, half cough. Once I’d recovered I steered the conversation away from movie references and back on topic.

“I need a spell checker with more range,” I said, but they didn’t exist.

Actually they did, and I had access to one. He just happened to have two legs and walked around.

“Let me borrow your phone.”

My partner lifted an eyebrow but didn’t question or argue as he handed me the phone. I pulled out the slip where Russell had written his number and punched it into the phone.

I didn’t need a spell detector if I had a sensitive.

Officer Russell Lancaster arrived in record time. He wore a goofy smile as he crossed the diner, but it fell from his face when he noticed Derrick.

“Inspector,” he said, nodding at me and giving the word a chilly formality. He stood at the edge of the table, his features caught in a tide shifting between embarrassment and confusion.

Derrick was sitting sideways on his bench, taking up the entire thing, so I scooted over to allow the young officer to join us. He did, but his movements were disconnected, uncertain.

“Officer Lancaster, this is my partner, Inspector Knight. And vice versa.”

Russell held out his hand but, no big surprise, Derrick didn’t take it. Even with his gloves on he never shook hands. Instead he gave the young officer a sharp half wave. I could all but hear Russell’s teeth grinding from the perceived insult, but it wasn’t my place to reveal that my partner was wyrd.

“Anyway, here’s the issue,” I said and then laid out a very brief explanation of why we wanted to know about Vicky the waitress’s heels.

He looked doubtful, and I wasn’t sure if that stemmed from a lack of faith in his own ability or if he just couldn’t picture the bright young waitress as guilty. Still, he didn’t argue but nodded when I finished and closed his eyes so he could concentrate.

After several long moments he shook his head. “There are a lot of charms and active spells in here. I, uh, might also be a little too close to you, Inspector. Your arsenal is a little overwhelming.”

Right. I really should have thought about that.

“You’ll have to get closer to her then. Why don’t you go flirt with her?”

Russell gave me a stunned look.

“Maybe it’s just the smile, but she is very pretty,” Derrick added.

“Not as pretty as you,” Russell said turning large chocolate-colored eyes and his own smile on me.

Derrick tried—and failed—to cover his laugh behind a cough. I shot my partner a scowl, but I wasn’t insulted. I was very aware of how ordinary I appeared. I used it to my advantage as often as possible. And while I was flattered by Russell’s attention, there was business to be done.

“You’re cute, but you’re what? Nineteen? Trust me—that would never work.” I paused, giving him a moment to accept my words. “Now, there is a job on the table, and I’ll pay you, but don’t think a heart is up for grabs.”

The disappointment played across his features, but after a moment he nodded. “Buy me dinner. That will be pay enough for using an ability I can’t turn off anyway. I’ll be right back.”

He headed for the waitress in the fetish heels and I sipped my rapidly melting shake. Derrick and I both watched as he approached and her already brilliant smile lit up an extra degree. Now those two would make a cute couple. If she wasn’t evil.

Russell returned after a few minutes and sank into the bench beside me. I expected him to give a report of some sort—he was an officer, after all—but he sat there for a long moment, staring at the empty tabletop in front of him.

“Are you injured?” After all, the creatures could wound with no physical trauma; maybe the waitress could, too.

“No. Nothing like that. She was nice. Very nice. I just . . .” His face scrunched, his lips pursing and his brow crinkling. “You were right—the shoes are spelled, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what the spell does.”

Not a good sign for the waitress.

“You did well. Here. You said you wanted dinner?” I passed him the menu, and then sat back in the booth as I considered what to do next.

The waitress wasn’t currently hurting anyone, so no need to make a scene and drag her out in front of the patrons. I’d wait until the diner closed. Also, just because her shoes held a complex spell didn’t mean she was guilty, but it was damning enough that I’d have my crossbow at the ready when I approached her.

Russell’s food arrived and the table fell into silence as he ate, Derrick thought about whatever the hell was bothering him, and I considered the capture I’d make tonight. It wasn’t exactly companionable silence, but it could have been worse. Then Russell’s fork fell onto his plate, food flying off it and skittering across the table.

“Something’s happening. A spell.” Skipping subtlety, he lifted a shaking hand and pointed.

Right at the waitress.

The lights from a truck streamed through the large panel window in front of the table where she stood. It illuminated her and the patrons at the booth in front of her in an eerie yellowish tinge as their shadows stretched across the tiled floor. The waitress stood inside the shadow of one of the men and where her and his shadows met, the darkness quivered, like I was looking at oil instead of the absence of light. It could have been anything, or nothing, but—

“What is she doing?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the comingling shadows.

“I—” Russell shook his head and tried again. “I don’t know. But I don’t like the way it feels.”

That was enough for me. “Move.”

He didn’t move fast enough. I vaulted onto the table and hit the floor running. A flicker of stored magic called my crossbow to my hand, and still moving, I lifted and fired. The blue foam bolt hit the waitress in the temple, the spell inside splashing onto her. She went down, hard.

All talking stopped for one suspended moment, making the diner silent aside from the jukebox. Then chaos erupted. People screamed and cursed. Most jumped out of their seats, rushing for the door until they’d created a bottleneck jam.

“MCIB,” I yelled, holding the badge over my head. It didn’t help. It rarely did in situations like this.

I used a touch of magic to send my crossbow back to its holster, and then I shoved my way through the crowd, trying to reach the waitress and her victim. A small pool had opened around the girl, keeping her from being trampled. Which was good—I preferred to take the human elements of crimes in alive. Unfortunately the man whose shadow she’d . . . well, I didn’t know what she’d done to it, but it hadn’t looked good, was gone. Damn it.

I jumped onto the booth bench and searched the crowd. The man was already outside. Double damn.

“Hey, Knight,” I yelled, hoping my voice carried over the panicked outcries.

Derrick, unsurprisingly, hadn’t entered the melee. Instead he stood against the back wall, arms crossed over his chest as he remained well clear of anyone who could accidentally touch him. He watched the madness with a rather apathetic expression, but his head jerked toward me when he heard his name.

“Can you get her secured and processed? She’ll be down several hours unless someone dispels my knockout spell.”

At his nod, I jumped from the booth and pulled an evidence bag from my pocket. If I were following procedure—or being intelligently cautious—I would have pulled on gloves and cast a circle before trying to remove Vicky’s heels, but I needed to catch up to the man she’d worked some unknown magic on. And I needed to find out what that magic was. With that in mind, I grabbed the shoes and pulled them off feet covered in welts and blisters.

“Damn, I’m even more surprised that you could walk.” How could she have smiled like she did when she had to be in agony? Not that such a question was what I needed to be focused on right now. I shoved the shoes in my bag, the spells on them all but crackling when the magic-dampening spell in the plastic touched the red material. I sealed the bag and then ran for the door.

Some of the panicked patrons scuttled out of my path, but many didn’t and I spent priceless seconds trying to shove through the crowd.

“Darque, activate your charm,” Derrick yelled from the back of the building. He’s the premonition witch. I covered the small pendant with my palm and channeled just enough magic into the healing charm to activate it. Then I continued to elbow my way through the crowd.

By the time I made it outside, the victim had vanished. I ran for my vehicle, scanning people and cars as I moved. There. The man was in a silver sedan, already in line to make a right out of the parking lot.

I jumped into the rental Hummer and reversed the large beast, forcing it to turn a little tighter than it liked. I did it without smashing any other cars, so it was a success. The sedan had already turned. Damn. I didn’t bother with the line but took the Hummer over the sidewalk and onto the grass—it was an off-road vehicle after all. I made good time with my improvised private turning lane, but still not fast enough to spot my target. Which means a little aggressive driving is in order.

The Hummer had a lot of pickup, and I pushed its horsepower as I swerved and darted around other cars while the speedometer needle continued its climb. It took only a mile for me to spot the silver sedan, and only a minute to catch up. I slowed as I approached and flashed my lights, trying to signal the driver. He didn’t turn off the road. Swerving around him, I opened my passenger window waved, yelling for him to stop.

The small car sped up.

Damn it. Just because he didn’t know I was trying to help him didn’t mean he had to be so stubborn.

As I gave chase, I considered shooting him. I could probably bounce a metal bolt in such a way it would pierce the glass and spill its contents on the driver without actually hitting him. There were a lot of variables though, and while I could get away with a lot in my job, even I would get in trouble for shooting a victim for his own protection. Besides, I had no way to control his car. He’d likely end up in worse shape than the victims already affected by the waitress’s spell.

Behind me, three sets of blue lights throbbed in the growing darkness. Well, that’s just peachy. The lights grew brighter as the cops drew closer until they completely filled my rear window. “You’re driving Impalas and I have a tank of a Hummer; what exactly are you going to do?”

Apparently just follow me and hope I pull over. Well, I would as soon as the silver sedan did. Which meant we made a nasty gang of cars flying down the quiet road at breakneck speeds.

Finally the sedan made an abrupt right. I’d been waiting for the move but it still left me wrenching the steering wheel. The Hummer shuddered as it slid into the turn, at least one tire losing contact with the ground. Oh, you really turn on a dime, don’t you? Just don’t flip.

It didn’t.

I swung it back on the road, still following the silver sedan. Behind me, two of the cops made the turn. I wasn’t sure what happened to the third, but I imagined he’d be joining us soon.

The sedan pulled into the vacant parking lot of a golf course, but even though his car stopped, he didn’t get out. I gave him points for picking a public place to stop—if you think someone is a crazy killer you shouldn’t lead them to your house—but I took away points for it being empty. The clubhouse ahead of me was dark, the course and parking lot lit only by security lighting. I put the Hummer in park but I didn’t cut the engine.

Behind me, the two remaining cop cars skidded to a halt and the officers poured out hot, guns out and ready for action. They barricaded themselves behind their open doors as four guns pointed at the Hummer.

I pulled my ID and badge out of my pocket, unrolled my window and held both my hands—one open to prove I was unarmed and one holding my badge—out of the car.

“I’m MCIB,” I yelled through the window and hoped they could hear it over their adrenaline. “I’m unarmed and I’m coming out. Don’t shoot.” I double-checked that my weapons were hidden under spells and then twisted my arm so I could open the Hummer from the outside, never letting my hands leave the cops’ views. No one shot up my door, so I took that as a good sign and slid out of the vehicle.

Still no shots, but the cops still had their guns drawn.

“I’m Magic Crimes Investigation Bureau,” I told them again and they looked from one to the other. Finally one of the older men made a waving motion and his partner ran forward, his gun still out but at least pointed at the ground and not me. When he reached me he held out his hand and I handed him my credentials.

“She’s legit,” he said after studying the badge and ID extensively.

With his announcement the other cops dropped and holstered their guns; they kept them unsnapped though, as if they expected to need to draw fast again soon. I ignored the implication.

“So he’s a suspect?” one officer asked, pointing at the idling silver sedan.

“Actually, a victim, but I don’t think he realizes that fact yet.” Still, I’d learned a long time ago not to allow a victim carrying an unknown spell to wander around unobserved. You could tie up a case only to discover a new problem had spawned. “He needs to go to a magical containment ward at the hospital.”

The cop glanced from me to the sedan before shrugging and approaching the car. The driver didn’t immediately unroll the window let alone get out. It took the officer knocking on his window twice before the man finally cracked it. The man then went on a too-fast diatribe about how I was a psychotic murderer. I didn’t bother listening beyond the fact that his name was Justin. Sometime during the panicked retelling, the third police car arrived. They seemed more than a little confused by the scene, but didn’t stay long once it was obvious there would be no more car chases and no firefights.

“Sir, please get out of the car,” the officer told the still frantic man.

He refused at first, but like most good, law-abiding people, did as the officer requested. I watched the proceeding idly. As long as Justin made it to a secured location where he’d not only be safe from the magic that I’d seen infect him but everyone else would be safe as well, then my job was done. The police could take it from this point. I had other things I needed to do. Like interview my suspect.

Pushing away from the hood of the Hummer, I turned to go but something caught in the corner of my eye.

What the hell?

I scanned the shadow pooling around the sedan, the man, the cop. There were enough lights in the parking lot that shadows were short, but the man’s shadow appeared to be growing. I squinted. It also appeared to be boiling. Shit.

“Get him out of the shadow,” I yelled, launching myself into a full-out run.

Justin and the cops looked at me, stunned. Worse, they didn’t move.

I wasn’t far away, but I wasn’t fast enough. The shadow boiled over and a gaseous figure emerged. Well, I’d been looking for one of these creatures. Now I had one. Great.

At the creature’s appearance the cop stumbled back, out of the shadow, but Justin stood there, his eyes going wide and his mouth opening in a wordless scream. The creature had no features, but it had no trouble zeroing in on a victim. It lifted what vaguely passed as an arm and swung gaseous talons toward Justin’s chest.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and threw us both backward. The talons passed within inches of us while we fell, and I summoned my crossbow. I squeezed and the bolt shot outward, taking the creature in the chest. Purple lightning passed through the shadow and it paused, but didn’t stop.

I hit the ground but used my momentum to keep moving, and rolled over on my shoulder. I landed on my feet in a crouch, another bolt in my hand, but before I could aim, gunfire sounded behind me. A bullet whizzed by and I ducked low. My jacket was spelled to be bulletproof, but that didn’t mean I wanted to get hit—it would hurt like hell. Justin had pressed himself completely flat on the pavement, but he was still dangerously close to the shadows, not to mention the rain of bullets. What are they thinking?

“There are people here!” The words didn’t have any effect on the amount of gunfire flying around us. They’re panicking. Monsters could do that to people. And speaking of . . . I chanced a glance up at the creature. The bullets slowed as they passed through it, but passed through it they did, and from what I could tell, did no damage.

As the cops seemed intent on emptying their clips, I needed to get out of the line of fire. Dropping, I rolled toward my Hummer. The pavement scraped against my hands, but it took only two rolls to get mostly clear. I ran the last few yards and ducked by the front tire.

The sound of an approaching engine tore my attention from the creature and to Officer Russell Lancaster as he jumped out of his car and ran toward the cover of my Hummer. He had his gun out and at the ready. I looked at it and shook my head.

“You shouldn’t be here, and please do not fire at the creature—there is already enough wasted lead in Justin’s car.”

“I wanted to help.” He sounded very young as he said it, and I tried to force a kind smile to my face.

“You helped already. Go home.”

The sound of guns clicking empty filled the parking lot, and I rose, looking to see if anyone was reloading. They all appeared out. Finally.

Charging at the creature, I summoned my crossbow again, this time with a knockout bolt. The shot passed through what passed for its head. No effect. Okay, something else. I released the crossbow and drew a dagger. It froze any substance it cut—which worked great on water elementals—but did a smoky shadow have substance?

The creature struck at chest level when I approached, which I anticipated, so I went low, driving the dagger up into the hazy shape. For a moment veins of ice crystals spread around the blade. Yes. Then they collapsed on themselves, falling to coat my hand in cold water. Damn.

I withdrew the dagger, aiming a side kick at the shadow as I holstered the blade. My foot slid into the creature’s chest and numbness spiraled up my leg. With the pain and chill came a wave of soul-eating sorrow. Why am I fighting this thing? Why bother. It’s hopeless.

I dropped my leg and stumbled back. The chill dissipated quickly, but the apathetic sorrow was harder to shake. I stood before the creature, and I just couldn’t care that it was hurting people. That it could kill me if I didn’t find a way to stop it.

It just didn’t matter.

“Inspector!”

A body slammed into me, knocking me aside. Then the screaming started. I turned, slow, too slow. Russell stood beside me, his head thrown back, mouth open wide in agony. Dark talons emerged from his chest, and the creature moved as if it were trying to pull sticky saltwater taffy out of his body.

No. Anger burned through me, blotting out the cold traces of false despair. Grabbing Russell, I dragged him backward, far from the shadows around the sedan. Tears slipped from his eyes as he collapsed into himself.

I gritted my teeth and looked from him to the creature. It didn’t know it yet, but it was dead. Right now it was on borrowed time. I fingered the vials on my bandolier, determining the method of the creature’s death. At my sternum, a disk buzzed with a soft heat. Derrick’s charm, healing the last of what touching that creature did to me. He knows. We were going to have to have words. Leaving Russell to a misery I had no idea how to fix, I stormed across the pavement, stopping a few feet from the shadows around the sedan.

Justin had moved at some point and I turned to where he stood, shell-shocked, with the cops. “Sorry about your car.”

His frown deepened. “It’s not so—”

I pulled a vial from my bandolier and tossed it where the creature’s feet should have been. The spell exploded with a surge of brilliant white light.

“—bad. Woman, are you crazy?”

I didn’t turn. I just watched the rapidly spreading fire. The spell would burn out soon, and I needed to know—It’s not there. The creature was gone, and it wasn’t the heat. Light, why didn’t I try that earlier? Well, mostly because the only spell I carried with enough illuminance was highly destructive, which was further evidenced when the car’s gas tank exploded, releasing a blazing ball of fire into the air.

Heat from the explosion ate at my exposed flesh, and I finally turned away. Digging my phone from my pocket, I hit the only number on speed dial.

“How many ambulances do you need?” Derrick asked without bothering to say hello.

I glanced at Russell, definitely, but I also wanted Justin to get checked out to make sure the spell had no more surprises. “Two.” I started toward the Hummer. “Oh, and, Derrick, I need the fire department.”

The woman gasped, and sat up, blinking her eyes rapidly.

I gave her a moment to orient herself, especially since she had landed in this cell while still unconscious. Not that there was much to see. Four blank walls, an uncomfortable cot bolted to the concrete floor, a basin for water and a bucket. Oh, yeah, then there was the magic circle encasing it all. Definitely not the most dignified surroundings, but witches who turned their powers against others didn’t deserve much.

“Welcome back.”

Vicky’s lips pressed together and her brow crinkled as if she was trying to fight tears. She definitely wasn’t all smiles now. “Where am I?”

I didn’t bother answering. “We need to talk about the shoes.”

“Shoes?” She shook her head and one fat tear slipped down her cheek.

This woman should have been acting, not waiting tables. I leaned over her and let all the rage I felt over Russell being attacked into my eyes. She cringed, shrinking back from me. Unbelievable.

Behind me, the metal door opened and I turned as Derrick walked into the room. I met him at the circle’s edge. The barrier spell blocked everything but sound, so we could talk, but he couldn’t enter and I couldn’t leave without an ordeal, as someone would have to dismiss and recast the circle. I hoped this wasn’t something that would call for that.

“What’s up?”

Derrick frowned and I knew it was bad news before he said anything.

“I had her blood run. The other waitress was right—she’s completely human.”

That meant there was no chance she cast the spell on the shoes. There was a player in this that we were missing.

I nodded my acknowledgment and turned back to Vicky. She’d curled up on the cot and I was pretty sure she was crying. Did she even know what she was doing? Well, I was about to find out. Activating my lie detector, I walked back across the room.

“Tell me about the red heels you were wearing at work tonight.”

She frowned at me. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“They’re spelled. Did you know that?”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. Which didn’t help me; my lie detector spell required her to speak.

“Yes or no?”

“No, of course not. What kind of spell?”

I glanced at my charm; it hadn’t changed, which meant she was telling the truth. She was as innocent as she acted. I leaned back and let my face soften.

“Where did you get them?”

“Um, I was in the hospital for . . . Well, I was unwell, and one of my customers sent them with a note that said he hoped they’d make me feel better. And they did. When I wore them I felt pretty and happy.”

I tapped my toe but managed to suppress any other sign of my impatience. Now that I knew the witch who’d created this mess was still out there, I was anxious to find him. “Who was the customer?”

“Eddy. He’s a regular.”

That didn’t help me.

“Eddy what?”

“Oh, um . . . Edward Mackenzie.”

Now that was what I needed. I glanced over to see if Derrick was still in the room. He was. He nodded to indicate he’d heard the name and then he hurried out the door. Knowing my partner, he’d have the address and any information in the national witch database about this “Eddy” before the guard in charge of the circle released me.

It was two hours before dawn when I pulled my Hummer to a halt several houses away from Edward Mackenzie’s front door. I slipped out of the car soundlessly, my obfuscation charms already in place. The street was quiet as I hurried down it, and not even a dog barked in the predawn light.

Unsurprisingly, Eddy’s house looked like all the others, with the lawn well maintained and flower beds identical to his neighbors’. I crept up the drive silently, watching the shadows, but it appeared to be just another house in a quaint neighborhood. You know what they say about appearances.

My lock-picking spell made fast work of the front lock but that was the easy part. Zipping my jacket, I activated a charm that was part of the reason MCIB recruited me in the first place. The charm took power, a lot of it, and one of my rings held raw magic just to power this spell—and it did so only once per charge. But it was worth it. I stepped through Eddy’s household wards as if they didn’t exist. Once I was on the other side of the threshold I shut down the charm and opened my jacket again so I’d have access to my weapons.

I ran into my first shadow creature almost immediately. I’d been looking for the creatures but I still almost missed it. Judging by the way it swung at me, they could see through my charms.

But I had a new secret weapon.

Jumping out of the creature’s reach, I released a crossbow bolt into its chest. The vial in the bolt snapped, releasing the spell. At first the shadow continued to move. Then the first pinprick of light formed in its torso. It might have started small, but in less than a heartbeat I had to shade my eyes as light poured out of the shadow.

Once the flash faded I dropped my arm and looked around.

“Like that? I spent half the night working on it,” I said with a smile. Not that the shadow creature could care. He’d been vaporized.

I worked through the house room by room. The creatures made no sound as they evaporated so only the soft twinge of my crossbow accented the night.

Dawn was starting to pour through the windows as I reached the last room. I stopped at the door. A soft snoring sound drifted out of the room. Eddy, I presume. What most would-be criminals didn’t seem to understand was that the monsters were hard and dangerous. But the witches themselves? The witches went down easy.

Edward Mackenzie didn’t so much as twitch as I snuck into his room.

His capture?

As fast as a snap of a crossbow.

Vicky was cleared of charges and moved to the hospital. She’d been an unwilling accomplice, and really just another victim of the spelled stilettos. Especially once the effects started wearing off and she sank back into her depression. She’d have her own personal battles in the coming months, but this time she’d stick to traditional coping methods. I was betting she’d make it out to the other side.

While the waitress’s condition deteriorated, the other victims were making steady improvements. None had been released yet, but most were expected to be back home and enjoying a normal life again soon. Russell Lancaster had regained consciousness, and when I visited, he even cracked a smile. Edward Mackenzie, on the other hand, was looking at a very long prison stay and likely a magical neutering.

All in all, a job well done.

“Done” being the key word there. Now maybe I’d finally get to my vacation.

I locked my weapons in the wall safe—well, at least most of my weapons—and then padded barefoot across my room and into Derrick’s. “Tell me I get to act like a tourist now.”

He looked up from where he was packing his suitcase—not a good sign—and shook his head. “We caught a bad one,” he said, lifting a manila folder. “It involves a grave witch.”

I grimaced. If a grave witch was at the center of the case, that meant I’d most likely be hunting dead things. Excessively deadly dead things. On the plus side, grave witches were rare enough that we’d likely identify our culprit easily. “Do we know who we’re looking for?”

Derrick nodded. “A witch named Alex Craft.”