by Stacia Kane
“Only that it’s a fire spell,” Will said. “A really sneaky one, too. Definitely a trap, set off by any powerful female hormonal surge. But it’s a group spell.”
“Shit. Not just one male one female?”
“Nope.” Will glanced at Blue and caught the curiosity on her face. “We can’t identify individuals based on group spells, because the energy is all mixed together. There’s no way to separate them.”
Blue leaned back in her chair, one of those bland leather-and-steel chairs on rolling balls that always seemed to squeak whenever their occupant moved—and considered that for a minute. “So there’s a group of people out there that did this.”
Chess and Will exchanged glances. That was the sort of information they didn’t really give to the public, at least the Squad didn’t, but either Will assumed she’d probably tell Blue anyway or Will would have told or he just didn’t care, because he twitched his eyebrows up, twisted his mouth a little to the side. Asking her to make the decision, because she knew Blue better.
Which she did. “Yeah. It means there’s a group out there who did this, and we have no idea why.”
☠
THE FOLLOWING MONDAY SHE WAS sitting in the library—wasting time, because what the fuck else was she going to do—when Goody Mitchell approached her. “Elder Griffin desires to see thee in his office, Miss Putnam.”
Her tone and expression indicated that she thought Elder Griffin must have been a deranged idiot for wanting such a thing. Chess didn’t particularly disagree, at least not considering the way things had been between herself and Elder Griffin for the last couple of months; her first reaction was fear. What had she done wrong this time? Or had he finally had enough and decided to report her or fire her or kick her out of his department? It couldn’t be good news, because the only good news would be either a case or his forgiveness, and really, the first depended on the second and that wasn’t going to happen. He was never going to forgive her.
His expression when she entered his office didn’t convince her otherwise. Not a hint of genuine warmth came through the practiced smile that didn’t reach his eyes; not a touch of gladness or affection tinged his voice. “Good morrow, Cesaria. Close the door, please.”
“Good morrow, sir.” She bobbed into a curtsy and did as he said, trying to hide the nervousness-bordering-on-panic rising in her chest and wishing the Cepts she’d shoved down her throat in the upstairs bathroom would hit faster. Ordinarily she might think his coldness meant something was wrong, but it had become pretty standard in the last couple of months, really. He could have been about to tell her she was fired or that the Elder Triumvirate had decided to make her the first female Grand Elder, and he probably still would have sounded like he was discussing floor wax with an odd-smelling stranger.
He gestured at one of the chairs opposite his desk. “Sit down.”
Every step further into his office hurt. Once it had been a place she’d looked forward to being in, had gone out of her way to spend extra time in and had been comforted by. Once she’d been a welcome guest. Not anymore. Now all of the stuff on his shelves—skulls and spellbooks and bones and fur, twigs and stones and balls of wax and canister after canister of powders and herbs—just reminded her of how it shouldn’t have been there. It should have been in a new office, one suiting the new position he should have been promoted to after his marriage—would have been promoted to, if not for her. The big globe in the corner that showed where all of the country borders used to be, the television mounted on the wall with the sound off and the captioning on, glared at her. They knew what she’d done. They knew she was to blame.
“This is for you.” Elder Griffin held out a sheet of paper. Shit. Oh, no, she was about to get busted, wasn’t she, for sticking her nose into a Squad case without prior authorization? Or, well, she’d kind of had Will’s authorization—joking though it had been, he’d still said he was interested in hearing what she thought—but that might not make a difference. Or Will might have denied giving it. Or who the fuck knew what else; all she knew was that surprise documents were rarely good news.
“Rarely,” didn’t mean “never,” though. The paper was a commendation from Elder West and Elder Inquisitor Bucket, Chief Inquisitor of the Black Squad. What? She hadn’t actually helped Will solve his case, not really. Unless some half-assed “Well, we kinda know who did it we just don’t know who he is or why,” counted for the Squad, which even she couldn’t imagine it actually did.
“Elder Inquisitor Bucket was very impressed with you.” Elder Griffin cleared his throat. “He thanked me for loaning you to the Squad to aid his brother’s investigation. I confess I did not know what to say, as I had not been aware I’d done so.”
She hadn’t been, either. “I never said you had.” Fuck, that sounded a little short, didn’t it? “I mean, it wasn’t like that, it wasn’t—I didn’t do anything officially. I didn’t talk to Elder Inquisitor Bucket or request to enter the investigation. I was a witness at the second fire, and, um, I did identify myself as a Church employee and hold down the scene and the witnesses until the Squad arrived to take it, but I didn’t do anything outside of standard protocol. The rest was just…”
“Do you wish to be transferred?” His face, once so easy for her to read, had become an inscrutable mask. He was all cool efficiency, with no emotion bleeding through. “Elder Inquisitor Bucket has indicated he would be pleased to have you. You have worked with the Squad before, of course, and—”
“No!” The word exploded from her, propelled by panic. Being transferred to the Black Squad? As if she didn’t have enough problems. “I was only—a woman burst into flame right in front of me, and I wanted to know why. You didn’t have a case for me, so I thought… I figured I could do a little looking around on my own time, sir. Will said it was okay.”
“Are thee certain? A transfer could be arranged very quickly.”
Her voice sounded very small. “Do—do you want me to transfer, sir?”
“It is not my decision.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes. Fuck, she’d thought the pain had started to abate, that she’d started to get used to it, but that didn’t seem to be the case at all. “But if you are so unhappy in this department that you wish to work in others, you should know that the Elders have noted this is your fourth commendation. They have all expressed envy that I have someone with such dedication to the Church and the law in my department, and they wonder why you aren’t being kept busier here.”
Oh. That explained it. Well, what the fuck did he want from her, anyway? Yes, she deserved to have lost his friendship. She’d fucked him over—inadvertently, but it had happened just the same. She’d committed a serious crime and he’d covered it up and fucked himself over in the process. She’d betrayed his trust and hurt him, and she knew it still hurt him.
But this was getting ridiculous, and she couldn’t keep her mouth shut about it anymore. If other Elders wanted her and he no longer did, then she’d switch departments. Or she’d leave the fucking Church, as much as the thought made her shiver. But on this, at least, she wasn’t wrong, and she hadn’t been wrong.
She clenched her toes inside her shoes in an attempt to keep herself calm. Here she fucking went, then. “Elder Griffin, I’m sorry I let you down. I am. It makes me sick to think of it, okay? But I’m not sorry for being good at my job. I’m not sorry for wanting real cases to handle, and I’m not sorry that other Elders think you’re lucky to have me. You used to think so, too. And whatever you think of me personally now, you know I’m better than the cases you’ve been giving me lately.”
He didn’t respond. Maybe he didn’t know what to say. That was fine, because she wasn’t done, although the tightness of her throat told her she ought to be soon. “Honestly? Whether or not I leave is up to you, because you need to decide if you want the other Elders to envy you or if you want to let your feelings about me get in the way of the success of your department. And if you want to explain to them why you didn’t try to keep me.
You just let me know.”
Still no answer. She stood up on legs that felt jerky and numb, and headed for the door. Shit, now she got to spend the next however-long worrying about what he was going to say. She probably had enough pills to get through the wait. Maybe. Maybe they’d be enough for her to forget that she’d just essentially blackmailed a man whose friendship and support she missed so bad she didn’t think it would ever stop hurting, too, but she doubted that.
His voice came just as she turned the knob. “Cesaria.”
“Yes?”
He hadn’t moved; he wasn’t looking at her, either. “Report to me on Wednesday for a new case assignment.”
So many things she could say, wanted to say. None of them were appropriate, except, “Thank you, sir. I will.”
“Facts are Truth,” he said, and started shuffling papers on his desk.
☠
WILL LEANED AGAINST THE RAILING of the steps outside, waiting for her. He couldn’t have been waiting long, because he wasn’t flushed or sweaty despite the miserable heat. He looked completely cool and comfortable, in an untucked white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Maybe he had a dozen of them and changed them throughout the day. Maybe he had some sort of genetic disorder that meant his normal body temperature was so low the heat didn’t affect him. Or maybe he just moved through life that way, with his wealth and privilege like built-in air conditioners shielding him from all of the unpleasant extremes.
Chess, on the other hand... By the time she’d made it halfway down the steps she felt rumpled and damp and defeated by the world, even without the discomfort about her talk with Elder Griffin. It would have been pretty awesome to think his decision to keep her was a sign of some sort of thaw in his feelings, or that it was because he recognized her value as a Debunker. Too bad she couldn’t think either of those things. Not after her “if you want to explain to them why you didn’t want to keep me,” line, anyway. Yep. Trust her to ruin whatever happiness she might otherwise have felt when something good happened.
Will didn’t need to know any of that, though, and it wasn’t hard to keep it from him. She could put on a cheery everything’s-cool smile whenever she wanted; she’d spent her whole life learning how to do that. Lucky her. “Hey, Will. What’s up?”
“Coming to give you your due,” he said. “Thanks a lot for the help. Did you get your commendation yet?”
“Just now. Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugged a no-problem. “You were the one who led us to the guy. That was your work, and you did it without the files. I have to admit that’s impressive.”
It wasn’t that impressive, though. Maybe that was—no, not maybe, that was what was bothering her, or a big part of it, anyway. If Harmony hadn’t died she probably wouldn’t have put the jewelry thing together, and the idea of winning some kind of admiration because of Harmony’s death sent a fresh wave of nausea through her. Then she’d kept that death from Will, too. More dishonesty.
“No,” she said. “You would have gotten there. And I should have called right away, anyway.”
“An error I guess you’re not joining the Squad to resolve, huh?” His smile told her he noticed her surprise. “Drew told me they were going to make the offer. I didn’t think you’d take it.”
She held up her hands. “I just don’t think I could handle all the excitement.”
“I’m still working it. The jewelry, I mean. The energy from it’s all group energy, but I’ll find them. They had to buy the stuff somewhere. Maybe I can track them down that way.” He glanced around at the empty parking lot, the empty stocks fifty feet or so away waiting to be filled with sinners in a few days. “You sure you don’t want to transfer? I could use a partner. I think we worked pretty well together.”
“We did.” She smiled. The idea of working with a partner—other than Terrible—still made her itch, but if she ever had to, he’d be a decent one. He was a decent guy, for that matter. At least he seemed to be. She didn’t want him to think her refusal was personal. “It was fun. I’m just happy where I am, is all.”
“Well. If you ever change your mind, or need a favor…I still kind of feel like I owe you. I’m taking Blue to dinner tonight.”
The connection between owing her and taking Blue out to dinner had to be deliberate. She ignored it. She also ignored the thrill of discomfort—of fear—that rose up her spine at the idea of a Black Squad member getting close to someone who knew her secrets. Sure, in the abstract it hadn’t seemed like it would be such a huge deal for Blue to go out on a date with Will, but the abstract hadn’t accounted for the idea of a second date. Stupid of her. “Oh. Cool.”
His eyes scanned her face; she was pretty sure that was the sort of look he gave people he questioned officially. The sort of look that said he was paying attention to her every blink and twitch, trying to look into her and find whatever Truth may be buried there. “You know, when she called me, I kind of thought you’d put her up to it. But I guess she had a good time, whatever the reason she called to begin with. I know I did.”
That searching look wasn’t easy to ignore as the hint had been, but she managed it just the same. “I’m glad you guys had fun.”
“Yeah. Me too. Anyway, I’ve got to get moving.” He gave her arm a friendly punch. “You have my number. Use it sometime.”
“Sure,” she said. “You, too.”
He disappeared back into the building, and she headed for her car, not sure how she felt. Being owed a favor by a Squad member was a good thing; it could be a very useful thing someday. Having Elder Griffin say he wanted to keep her as a Debunker—having him at least acknowledge her skill at that—was good. Knowing there were Elders who would welcome her in their departments was good, too. Comforting. And, of course, there was the satisfaction of having another commendation in her file, and of having accomplished something.
But she couldn’t feel really positive about any of it. The only kinds of favors she could think of that she’d really need from an Inquisitor were the kinds of favors she’d never be able to ask for—the kinds of favors that would require revealing things she would and could never reveal.
Elder Griffin? Still hated her. Acknowledging her skill wasn’t anywhere near thinking she still had any value as a person, especially not when she’d oh-so-cleverly pointed out that he’d look like a moron if he let her go. And of course there was the possibility that he wanted to keep her around to make sure she wasn’t breaking any more Church laws in her spare time.
Which she was, but none as serious as the one he knew about. Not quite as serious, anyway.
Speaking of crime…there was the last bit of disquiet. Blue, and Will. And Lex. Fuck. Yeah, Will was a decent guy. Too bad “law-abiding” went along with that “decent.” Chess couldn’t quite picture him looking the other way when he found out what Blue’s brother did for a living, or rather, she couldn’t picture him looking the other way when that knowledge led him to Bump and Terrible, and thus right back to Chess.
Maybe that was selling him short—and selling Blue short; since when was Blue not someone who could inspire the kind of love that led people to turn their backs on their responsibilities and beliefs? Most people, shallow bastards that they were, wouldn’t think Terrible could ever be worthy of that kind of love, but she’d burn the Church to the fucking ground if it meant saving his life. In fact she kind of already had, at least in terms of the laws she was supposed to uphold. So why would she think no one would do that for Blue? Why would she think Will wouldn’t do it?
Oh, what difference did it make? Except that if Will and Blue became a thing, any negative ramifications of that would be her fault. Or how she was going to have to talk to Lex again. Yay. Good job, Chess, what a win.
But the biggest thing, the worst thing… Whoever had bespelled that jewelry was still out there. Leanne’s boyfriend, whoever he was, was still out there—and he was planning something else, she could feel it in her bones. That jewelry thing seem
ed too random, too senseless, to actually be so random and senseless. It didn’t feel like a main event; it felt like a test, like a small part of some bigger plan. It felt like somebody very smart and very cruel—he’d killed his girlfriend without a second thought, it seemed, just because the Squad had gotten her name—was gathering knowledge for his endgame, and she had a sick feeling that said endgame would be horrible to see.
She also just bet she was going to be forced to see it, when it came.
THE END
...and that’s it for now, although there will be a new Terrible novella, a Lex story, and of course more novels on the way! Thank you so much for all of your support and enthusiasm!
FIVE DOWN: A Downside anthology
© 2014 by Stacia Kane
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
“Rick the Brave” Original Publication Date August 2, 2011
“Home” Original Publication Date February 14, 2011
“Close to You” Original Publication Date October 8, 2013
“Keeping it Close” Original Publication Date December 2013
“Playing With Fire” Original to this anthology November 2014
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
