by Sarah Biglow
“Whoa, calm down, Savior lady. You’re hurt pretty bad.”
I swallowed the cotton feeing from my mouth. “K-Kayla.”
“Well, at least whoever used your face as a punching bag didn’t mess with your memory. Didn’t make your personality any better, but some things I guess are just immutable.”
“Why … why are you in my apartment?” The world started to right itself and I sat up. The pain in my calf blazed anew and I bent double to fight the nausea.
“I came back hoping you’d have changed your mind about Desmond’s offer and when you didn’t answer...”
“You broke into my home.”
“Is it really breaking in if I just passed through the door like it didn’t exist?”
“You could have called for an ambulance.”
“Don’t tell me you really wanted some normal paramedic treating magic-based injuries.”
“How did you know?”
She handed me a towel and I pressed it to my leg. While I waited for her to answer I took stock of my other injuries. My jaw was tender from the blow I’d sustained, but nothing felt broken. I’d have one hell of a bruise later and I could taste blood in my mouth from the split lip. My fingers weren’t nearly as shredded as I’d expected. The protection spell I’d put together had done its job. My neck and back, on the other hand, ached with every breath I took.
“The place reeks of your magic. And since you were alone, I doubt you were beating yourself up,” Kayla finally answered.
“Look, thanks for the assist”—I pressed the towel tighter around my leg wound—“but I’ve got it from here.”
Kayla rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to do everything alone, you know. Heroes know when to ask for help.”
I wanted to tell her off, but the injuries would be easier to assess and bandage with more than two hands. “I don’t suppose you know any healing magic?”
She smirked. “I know a thing or two.”
I rolled up my pant leg—the dry-cleaning bill was going to be a bitch—and surveyed the wound. The puncture was maybe half an inch in diameter. I couldn’t tell just how deep it went. I tried flexing the muscle and blood trickled out. Unceremoniously, Kayla grabbed my injured leg by the ankle and yanked it straight so my foot was propped against the edge of the table. Lavender tickled my nose as she pressed her hands to the wound. It stung as the skin started to knit back together.
“That should heal up in a few days.” She surveyed the rest of me. “Not sure there’s much I can do for your face. Maybe urge the bruising and swelling on a little faster. But you really should see an actual Healer if you want to be in fighting shape any time soon.”
“Whatever you can do,” I said. Magic could solve a great many things but even it had its limits.
I half expected her to smack me when administering her healing touch, but her fingers were light against my skin. The pain dulled to a manageable level. Maybe it was a side effect, but the pain in my neck and back eased a little too.
“I know it’s none of my business and you’re probably going to tell me to fuck off, but what were you doing that got your ass kicked?” she asked.
I had every confidence that Kayla had orders to report back to Desmond whatever I told her, and he would not doubt chide me for still working the case even though I was under orders not to. But in that moment, as the pain and her magic ebbed and flowed through my body, I found my tongue loosened.
“We’ve got some magically altered video footage I’m trying to restore.” I reached for my laptop and my elbow twinged. A red welt marred the skin, I probably hit it on something when I passed out. Kayla pushed the computer within my grasp and I pulled up the file I’d been working on. “See, the file is corrupted, but I’ve been able to slowly peel away the magic.”
“I know some guys who could handle that for you in a day.”
“I can do it on my own.”
“Not from where I’m sitting.” She tugged at a loose thread on her vest. “But, right, you’re all anti-Authority. Can’t possibly have them help with a magical problem. It’s not like the whole world is on the brink of hell breaking loose or anything except, you know, if you believe the prophecy that some evil is rising and if you don’t stop it we’re all screwed.”
“You’ve done your duty. You can go now,” I snapped.
She opened her mouth to protest but was cut off thanks to my computer’s inbox beeping loudly with incoming messages. I pulled the machine toward me to find new video footage for a location marked as the Orpheum Theater. Heat flushed through me as I realized what this meant: we had a fourth body.
I scrambled for the map and book ledger, ignoring Kayla as my brain spiraled into overdrive. I nearly dropped the computer twice as I tried to pull up a new browser tab to find the GPS coordinates of the theater. I caught Kayla hovering out of the corner of my eye, but she stayed silent as I worked. Three typos later, I had the GPS coordinates on my screen. Pulse throbbing painfully in my neck, I scooped up the map and checked for the latitude and longitude markers, finally finding them. As expected—and feared—they intersected at an angry red mark. I didn’t bother to read the entry detailing what evil woman had lost her life in this place. I knew all I needed. More video footage would be on the way and the case was hitting dead ends everywhere they looked. I hated to admit it, but Desmond was right. I needed help.
There had to be pattern emerging. Ignoring Kayla for a little longer, I fiddled with the GPS coordinates on Google Maps, inputting the three other scenes. I connected them and cold sweat prickled on the nape of my neck. It almost looked like an inverted pentagram. A shiver ran down my spine. It shouldn’t be a surprise that they would corrupt a symbol of good magic for their own purposes.
Finally, I set the map aside and fixed my attention back on the Whisperer levitating half a foot from the ground. “Okay.”
She blinked, as if I’d startled her from a trance. “Okay what?”
“Okay, tell Desmond I’ll go the Authority. But I can’t promise anything beyond that.”
Kayla grinned from ear to ear. “Baby steps, Savior girl. Baby steps. Be back in a flash.”
Fourteen
Kayla needed to update her definition of “a flash”. The purple-haired pest didn’t rematerialize until almost nine o’clock. At least it had given me time to eat a proper meal. That alone helped my body fight through the aches and pains. Like the last time—I’m assuming seeing as I wasn’t exactly conscious—she just waltzed through my locked front door as if she owned the place, earbud dangling from one ear, the cord snaking down into the pocket of her jeans.
“You really need to learn the concept of knocking before you just enter someone’s house, especially one with a gun and a license to shoot you.”
“And here I thought we had a connection.” She let out a girlish chuckle.
“When does Desmond want to meet?”
“He’s downstairs in the car. He muttered something about not wanting you to turn him into a human pin ball for entering your space or whatever.”
“At least he respects some boundaries,” I grumbled before donning a jacket and tossing my laptop in a messenger bag and heading downstairs. I glanced behind me as the elevator doors began to shut and found Kayla standing there, immobile. “Are you coming?” I prompted.
“Oh, no. This is a you and Des thing.”
The pet name struck me as odd. He’d never let anyone but me call him that when we were younger … except his girlfriend. “Fine, whatever. But you aren’t waiting in my apartment. Go do whatever it is you normally do on a Tuesday night.”
“Got it, boss.” She vanished with only a hint of lavender left in the air.
I shook my head and shouldered the front door open. I didn’t have to guess which car belonged to Desmond. In all the time I’d known him, he’d only driven one car—a Mini Cooper, complete with stripe down the middle. I never understood why he loved the thing so much. I found it cramped as hell, even as a young teenager. I pause
d a moment to collect myself, not entirely ready to be trapped in a car for at least twenty minutes with him with no way out. He flashed the headlights at me and I forced my feet to move. My leg spasmed with every step, but I grit my teeth and kept going. I even managed to get into the passenger seat somewhat gracefully.
“I’m glad you reconsidered.” Desmond put the car into drive and pulled out onto the road, heading out of the city.
“You didn’t give me much choice.”
Awkward silence filled the car between us until finally he asked, “Do you want to tell me what changed your mind?”
“Another victim was just found.”
“God, I’m so sorry.”
“For once, it’s not your fault.”
He shook his head, strands of blond hair brushing the tops of his eyebrows. “Even if you aren’t having issues with work, I wish you’d realize that there are issues about your past you haven’t dealt with. Holding on to them isn’t healthy and it could hurt you if you aren’t careful.”
“If they can help with solving the case, fine. But I’m not getting into the rest of it with you or them.”
Desmond said nothing and turned his attention back to the road. As we drove, the pain from the wound in my leg intensified. Damn, I should have at least grabbed some aspirin before leaving my apartment. As we moved on to the Mass Pike out toward Newton, my stomach started to twist in nervous knots. I hadn’t been back to the Authority’s base of operations in a decade. Had it changed much since my last visit or was it stuck perpetually in the early 1900s with its wall sconces and ornate woodwork?
“So, should I assume the bruises are case-related?” His voice cut through my thoughts.
My jaw ached in response to his question and I couldn’t resist brushing my fingertips against the sore spot. “Yeah. But I’m fine.”
I caught the side-eye he was giving me. “You were favoring your left leg on your way to the car too. We can have a Healer take a look at it.”
“Thanks.”
“So, you want to tell me what tried to kick your ass?”
The stubborn part of me didn’t want to share the details. For one thing, I’d assumed my disclosure to Kayla had made its way to Desmond’s eager ears. And I still didn’t trust his interest in me. But the way he glanced at me, concern making his eyes crinkle at the corners, reminded me of the cousin I’d grown up with. The one who’d once told me he envied my burden as the Savior. I’d spent so long distancing myself from everyone in my past that the possibility that I didn’t actually have to do this alone put the tiniest chink in the wall I’d built around my heart.
“I told you about the video files that were magically corrupted, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I went back in to try to fix more of the files, but whoever cast the spell was waiting for me. I think I winged him though. So at least I got a few licks in this time. But if I’m honest, whoever he is, he’s stronger than anything I’ve dealt with before. I’m hoping it’s just the waning effects from the Solstice and things will even out in a few days with the Equinox.” Otherwise, I wasn’t sure I would be ready to fulfill my destiny.
“Have you actually made any progress?” He was digging now, trying to keep me talking and distracted.
“Some but … maybe I should focus on finding the killer’s next target. There will be plenty of time to decrypt the evidence after the fact.”
“Well, we’ve got people who can help with that so you don’t have to wait forever to get the information. I’m assuming you’ve been trying to decrypt it to get a look at the killer.”
“Killers plural. There’ve been two magical signatures at every scene I’ve been to.”
I expected him to comment or at the very least dig for more information about the killers. He said nothing and when I turned my attention to where we were, I found myself staring up at the mansion that housed the Authority. The exterior had definitely not changed. All brownstone with cream window accents. The towering wrought-iron gate flanked by rows of hedges at the base of the circular drive remained as well. I’d always wondered what the neighbors thought of the revolving door of guests arriving at all hours of the day and night.
Desmond rolled down his window and punched in the six-digit passcode. The gates swung inward on silent hinges and we pulled up to the top of the circular drive. My hand trembled as I undid the seatbelt and climbed into the cool evening air. Being back in the grounds sent another shiver down my spine. A lump caught in my throat and my legs turned stiff and rooted to the spot. I was vaguely aware of Desmond coming to stand beside me. The presence of his hand on my wrist, squeezing tight, freed me from my brain’s self-imposed immobility.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. I promise.” His last words cut deeper than I’m sure he meant them to.
“Jury’s still out on whether your word’s any good,” I muttered but allowed him to guide me through the front doors.
I stopped short in the front hall. My brain was trying to impose the memory of what this place had been in my youth over the updated, sleek design. Gone were the dimly lit sconces and tiny alcoves leading to the library to the left and the kitchen and dining room to the right. Now, recessed LED lighting lit the space, washing everything with a rosy glow. The spiral staircase to the right leading up to the main hall had been stripped of the gaudy carpeting and was now polished hardwood, stained an inviting cherry wood color.
“You’ve missed a lot since you’ve been gone,” Desmond whispered in my ear and nudged me toward the stairs.
I shifted my bag to the other shoulder and took the stairs slow and steady, letting the sound of each footfall ground me. I was back here. It wasn’t a dream or my mind playing tricks. Reaching the top of the stairs, I paused to take in the upper floor. Unlike the first floor, it hadn’t changed nearly as much. The floor was still carpeted in thick beige shag rugs. I looked around, expecting more people to be mingling, but it was eerily quiet and empty.
“We can use the meeting hall.” Desmond’s voice echoed in the space.
Taking a steadying breath, I marched forward and gave the double doors a solid shove inward. They opened to reveal the same setup as the last time I’d been there: thirteen chairs in a semi-circle with a single chair facing them. I crossed the threshold and nostalgia bowled me over, dragging me back into the past.
Heavy snowdrifts piled high outside the first-floor windows below us. J.T. and I were supposed to be studying down in the library, but we’d snuck up to the meeting hall unnoticed. Sunlight reflected off the untouched mounds outside, catching in the blond of his hair. We sat side by side in the two chairs in the center of the semi-circle, hands clasped together. He leaned in, his sea-glass-green eyes half open, and kissed me. Excitement spread from my chest down into my belly. It wasn’t that we hadn’t kissed before. But this space was almost sacred. That added element of illicitness made me giddy and I pulled away giggling.
“You okay?” His hand tightened around mine.
I looked around. “We shouldn’t be doing this in here. They’d freak out if they found us.”
He smirked. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Ez? We’ll be running things one day and we can do whatever we want. Make our own rules.”
“Yeah. First rule, don’t make people feel like they’ve got to join up.”
“What do you mean?”
I pulled my hands free of his and pulled my knees up to my chest, chin resting atop them. “Think about it. We don’t have a choice in whether the Authority tells us what to do and how to use our magic. Don’t you want that freedom?”
“I guess I never thought about it that way. I just figured this is kind of our birthright to be here.”
“That’s the problem. Not everyone knows where their magic comes from. We should be free to use it however we want.”
“That’s dangerous, Ezri. Look at the Order. We don’t want them running around unchecked.”
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t punish the people who
use it for evil, but if people aren’t hurting themselves or anyone else, why should they have to even tell the Authority that they exist? You can’t honestly tell me you like having them breathing down your neck, watching everything you do. Every spell you learn.”
He mirrored my position and, after a long pause, said, “Of course I’d like more freedom, but could you imagine going through all of this without their help? Facing what you’re facing. Why would you ever want to be in the magical world without them having your back?”
“Ezri, did you hear me?”
The memory of J.T. faded and I was back in the room with Desmond by my side. I pinched the bridge of my nose and turned to him. “Sorry, what?”
He let out a sigh of annoyance and motioned to a young woman with a blonde bob and hipster glasses who I guessed was a few years older than me. “This is Avery, one of our best tech people.”
The other woman crossed the distance and extended her hand to me. “Avery Stohl. I can’t believe I’m meeting you. Me, meeting the Savior.”
I gripped her extended hand—covered in a thin sheen of sweat—and arched a brow at her excitement to meet me and the fact that she knew who I was. “Uh, yeah. Sorry, how do you know about that?”
She waved her free hand. “Everybody knows who you are around here. I mean I couldn’t pick you out on the street, but everyone knows you.”
Great, my reputation precedes me. I freed my hand from Avery’s grasp. “So, you’re good with technology?”
Avery laughed. “She’s funny. I routinely kick technology in the ass. Des didn’t mention what you needed help with though.”
How many girlfriends does he have?
Desmond gave a conspicuous fake cough and took a few steps back. “I’ll leave you two to it then.”
I rounded on him. “And where are you going?”
“I have a letter of reinstatement to send off.”
My irritation that he was once more abandoning me ebbed a little at the mention of my reinstatement.
“You’re really going to tell the captain to let me back in?”
