by Melody Raven
She wistfully smiled. “As much as I wish you would care more about who you sleep with, I agree. But he might not know that. No one wants to be an orphan. I personally handled the paperwork. Everyone in the human world considers Jackson the Benedicts’ actual son and the knowledge in our circles is limited.”
Sam still tried to wrap her head around this new information. “Does Claire know?”
“I suppose that depends on him. I assume you and Jackson aren’t continuing your relationship?”
“You mean after Derek tried to kill him thanks to the potion roofie you gave him? It’s safe to say that’s a relationship killer,” said Sam with a sharp glare. As much as she was trying to play dutiful daughter, some things were harder to let go of than others. “If you knew Jackson was an orphan, why did you encourage me to be with him so much?”
“Well, it wasn’t my best-case scenario, but anything was better than you hiding in that horrible little place in the city and cutting off almost all contact with your roots. Jackson was taken in by a very respectable family and he has gained a lot more control over his powers lately. If he could get you to come back to me, I’d be willing to push him on you as much as I needed to.”
“You never lost me,” said Sam weakly. But she knew that on some level she was shut off from the family. Because magic wasn’t merely a hobby to Abigail. Magic was a way of life. It was who she was. By cutting herself off from that, she really had isolated herself from her family, and bi-weekly visits did nothing to help that.
“Well, I have you now, and for that, I’m grateful. I trust this information about Jackson will remain between us.”
“Of course. Why tell me now?”
“Honey, you’re a sentry now. You get to know all of our secrets.”
Sam’s brows drew together as she tried to figure out whether she should be happy or scared about that. Before she could formulate a response, Abigail’s noticeably working phone rang.
She glanced at the screen and groaned. “This is work. I’ll be right back.” She walked out of the room and started to speak in her serious work tone to whatever unfortunate soul had called her at nine o’clock at night.
And she’d dealt with enough of these late-night calls to know that Abigail probably wouldn’t be back any time soon. Sam made her way to the fridge. She hadn’t eaten since lunch. She’d been hungry for hours but didn’t want to stop Bastian from his work. It was her first day, so she didn’t want to complain about anything,
She’d just opened the fridge when she heard the footsteps behind her. They were soft and steady instead of the click-clacking of heels, so she knew it wasn’t Abigail. She glanced around to see Garrett standing next to where she’d just been sitting at the island.
“We have a problem,” he said before she could give him any form of greeting.
There went her idea of actually eating tonight. She shut the refrigerator door and turned around fully. “We have a problem? As in the two of us?”
“Someone tripped the sensors on the east side of the property. I looked at the cameras and it turns out to be your boyfriend. So I think the correct phrasing is that it’s your problem.”
He set a sheet of paper on the granite island and Sam snatched it away. “Shit.” Sure enough, there was Derek, standing in front of the ruins of her childhood home. Why couldn’t he mind his own business for just this one time? “Can you keep quiet about this?” She grabbed her jacket off the counter.
“Can you promise he’s not going to trespass on the property anymore? I know about the charm you gave him, Sam. If I catch him again, I’m not going to give him a warning.”
Sam stopped and looked Garrett squarely in the eyes. “If you touch him, I’ll destroy you. I don’t care if you walk in on him fucking your girlfriend. You touch one hair on his head and I’ll come after you personally. Got it?”
Garrett looked more confused than scared, mirroring Sam’s own reaction to her words. Garrett and she had always been friendly. He was about thirty years older than her, so he’d been like a protective older brother. But she didn’t have time to apologize, especially because she meant every word she said. Instead, she went with, “Thanks for the heads-up, Garrett. I owe you. Tell Mom I couldn’t wait any more.”
“Anytime,” he said weakly as she ran out of the house.
Derek leaned against the car and surveyed the damage. Normally if a house burned down in an area like this, the remains were cleared away and something else built. Not the Harrises. They built an entirely new mansion a few acres away and left the crumbling foundation to erode away until nature took over.
One more weird thing for him to deal with.
The sun had already gone down, so the headlights of his Crown Vic gave him all the visibility he was going to get. Derek didn’t really know what drew him out here. The fire had been almost a decade ago. He liked to think he was an optimist, but he didn’t have any hope that he could find any clues. But maybe it would let him focus. Re-center. After seeing Sam with that guard dog today and getting thrown on another high-profile case, it was easy to lose sight of what he was aiming for: to take down the people taking advantage of the city he was supposed to be protecting.
The crunch of tires on gravel was his first warning that his quiet reflection was over. There was only one decaying road here, so he knew he couldn’t drive away before he was seen. He settled for setting his hand on his gun as he looked at the approaching headlights. The quickly approaching headlights.
Only a few seconds later, the BMW came to a screeching halt, and when he saw the outline of the driver, he realized who it was. Sam got out of the car and pure rage was etched on her face. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? This is private property. I could shoot you right now and I wouldn’t need magic to explain myself to the cops.”
Derek removed his hand from the gun. “Hello, Sam. Looking good.”
“I always look good,” she snapped, followed up quickly by a, “What?”
He moved his hand up and down, motioning to her outfit. She’d lost the jacket so now she wore a gray t-shirt with a deep v-neck and the black suit pants he’d seen her in earlier. “This is a little more you.”
“Shut up. You don’t care how I look. You’re just pissed I’m working with the family now instead of helping you with your half-assed witch hunt.”
“People are dying—”
“No one’s died! One person is in the hospital, and Bastian and I talked to her. Why can’t you trust that I have everyone’s best interests at heart?”
“Look in front of you!” he shouted. “This, right here, is the prime example. Five innocent people died here, and they never got their justice. And I’m supposed to sit back and let the murderer walk free?”
Sam fell back a step and for the first time since she got there, her rage faltered. “What are you going to do? Arrest me?” she said softly.
“Why the hell would I arrest you?”
She motioned to the wreckage. “Because I did this.”
Derek ran a hand over his face. “What?”
“Did you ever wonder why I had stayed away from magic for so long? I was eighteen and this girl—Carla Brennan, of all people—said that my dress made me look like a sausage squeezed into a sausage casing. It was so stupid and so meaningless, but I just got so angry. The fire started in an instant. One moment nothing—then the entire wall was up. I’ve never seen anything like it. And then there was screaming and running and no one knew what was happening. Hell, I started the damn thing and even I didn’t know what was happening. So if you want to arrest the real murderer, then take me in.”
Sam stood tall, but her eyes betrayed the conflicting emotions. He’d seen that look in countless interrogations. The fight-or-flight response mixed in with shame. Her brow furrowed just slightly while her lips were set in a hard, stubborn line. But it was the eyes that killed him. They were so scared and sad at the same time, just waiting for him to respond.
Except he didn’t know wha
t response he could give. Sam wasn’t some power-crazed witch who enjoyed seeing people suffer. He remembered how focused she’d been on catching Tommy Collins. Just like him, she’d been honor-bound to hunt him down to make sure no one else got hurt. If Sam said what happened was an accident, he believed it.
He set his head down as he tasted his own fair share of shame. “I’m not going to arrest you.”
“Why not? I need to pay, don’t I? People are dead because of me.”
“I said I wanted justice. I think you’ve paid enough.”
“That’s not what you’d say to some murderer on the street,” she pointed out.
“No. It’s what I’m saying to you.”
Sam let out a sigh as some of the tension seemed to ease from her body. She rubbed at her eyes before she looked at him again, this time looking more like her normal self. “I don’t know what to do with you, Derek.” She slowly stepped toward him.
He leaned against the Crown Vic and she took the space next to him. Still a decent foot away, but closer than he’d been to her in a long time. Or at least since that morning. Funny how he’d gone three months without even a word and now he’d seen her twice in one day. One long day.
“I’m just trying to help. To do my job.”
“No, this is my job now. And I can’t save you from your hero complex. You told me to stay away from you and I did. You’re the one who keeps showing up now.”
“Thanks to you, I’m the only one who can’t be brainwashed. Doesn’t that give me some responsibility?”
“It’s my family doing the brainwashing. That kind of makes me responsible. I was born into this, Derek. I can handle it.”
“You’re an idiot if you think that the resources I have access to can’t help. And you’re a bigger idiot than I thought if you think that brainwashing will get you everything you need.”
“Yeah, well, I never accused myself of being smart.”
He could tell he’d hit a nerve with his remarks, but he wished he could make her see that she couldn’t push him out completely. “When I told you to stay away, I meant stay away from the investigation entirely. I didn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.”
“You just never expected me to be the one firing back.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“I don’t need—” Her phone buzzed in her pocket, cutting her off. She shook her head as she pulled it out and answered. “Yeah?” A second later, she pushed away from the car. “Where? Okay. Send me the address. I’ll be right there.”
“What’s going on?”
Sam was already walking away from him and to her BMW. “There was another fire. This time there were casualties. Two of them.”
“Two people are dead and you expect me to sit back and hope you and your guard dog don’t miss anything?”
Sam pulled her jacket out of her car and shut the door before she turned back to Derek. “No. You’re right. You might be able to save someone’s life so I need to keep you around. You’re driving.”
The drive back to the city was long and tense. Bastian was on his way and was going to meet her. She knew he’d probably be pissed about her bringing Derek, but she felt more comfortable with him there. Less out of her league.
Besides, people were dead now. That upped the stakes and made finding whoever was starting these fires even more important. At least now she could keep an eye on him instead of worrying about Derek showing up somewhere he wasn’t supposed to. The charm kept him from being influenced by magic, but it didn’t make him completely immune. Especially when it came to fire.
Sam couldn’t cause Derek to catch on fire, but, assuming she had any sort of control over her powers, she could set the building around him on fire and he would burn just as easily as the next human.
“So what is the deal here? The real deal.”
She decided to answer his question with a question. “You showed up at Nathan Abbot’s today. What made you think that had anything to do with us?”
“Because I knew that your family was associated with Abbots and three fires makes a pattern.”
He knew they were associated with the Abbots? Where exactly was he getting his information? “Albert’s house burned a week ago. No one thought much of it since he drinks enough to kill a hippo. John, his oldest son’s, place caught fire two days later. It was a coincidence, but no one was hurt and he has a wall of computers right where the fire started, so there was no reason to be suspicious.”
“I’m guessing the fire department was never allowed to give their opinion?”
“We live in a culture where fires accidentally start all the time. The fire department isn’t always our friend.”
“What got you worried about Nathan and Rose?”
“Everything got me worried about it. There were two kids involved. Rose was injured. A human, by the way. So whoever is doing this is targeting witches, but they obviously don’t care who gets hurt.” And now people were dead. It sounded as if Bastian didn’t know whether they were human or magical, but they’d find out soon enough. These weren’t random acts by a disgruntled human. These were planned and coordinated.
“Was there a point of origin determined for the previous fires?”
“We know about where they started.”
“No. I mean what caused them. Gasoline? Matches? Was the wiring sabotaged?”
“Like I said, we stopped the fire department from making a determination. Now that it’s getting serious, we just sent our expert the files for him to make a determination.”
“Because if we can’t find a direct cause, that means the fire spontaneously started,” he said carefully.
Sam tensed in her seat. “You think a witch is doing this?”
“I think it would be ignorant to not consider the possibility.”
In truth, each possibility was shitty. Either her kind was being persecuted by humans, or there was a traitor within the ranks. “This is our exit,” she said, not responding to him directly.
“So did Albert have another kid who was targeted?”
“No. The fire was in an apartment building but started in the apartment rented by Jennifer Barrett.”
“She’s a witch.”
“Yes. And from what I remember, about as nice as they come. She’s into herbs and crystals and all the things humans expect from witches. Very gentle and peaceful. I can’t imagine who targeted her.”
“She didn’t make it out?”
“I don’t know,” said Sam softly. “The fire spread fast. It wasn’t just her apartment hit. We were only called because one of ours was walking by and knew Jennifer lived there. From there, he contacted us.”
“Us?”
“Sentries. Basically a private police force.”
“So—the suits who almost killed me.”
“And I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen again. Why do you think Claudia brought me on? She was betrayed by her own people. People who tried to cover up what happened with Tommy Collins and get rid of you before you could prove any of it. Claudia trusts me.”
“Well, remind me not to get on her bad side again.”
Sam snorted as she rolled her eyes. “That ship has sailed. You’re already on her bad side.” And Sam didn’t want to think about what Claudia would say once she realized Sam was still working with Derek.
“So why bring me out here if your grandmother, the most powerful of all of you, will be angry?”
Sam directed him to turn down a street, and from there it was easy to follow the flashing lights. The neighborhood where Jennifer lived would’ve been classified as “bad” in a lot of places, but in New York, the rent prices would make most of the residents firmly middle class. It was just inside southern Bronx. The brownstones were aged and some on the verge of disrepair, but thanks to the space deficit in the city, there were few abandoned buildings. Once Derek parked, Sam saw Bastian at the front of the building, looking up at the wreckage. He was already inside the barrier set up by the local p
olice, so he must’ve gotten control of the scene.
As she got out of the car, she slid her jacket on, buttoning it as she crossed the pavement to reach Bastian. She didn’t need to look behind her to know Derek was following. She could feel his presence, a mixture of comforting and unnerving all at the same time.
“He shouldn’t be here,” said Bastian without turning around.
“He thinks the same thing about us.” Sam came to a stop next to Bastian and looked up at the charred third story. “It looks like the fire didn’t spread too far.”
“It got all five apartments on that level and the damage goes all the way up. We’re lucky only two people died.”
“Who were the victims?” Derek stood on the other side of Sam.
Bastian was silent as he glared at Derek.
“Are you here to spy on me for my grandmother or are you here to help people?” asked Sam.
Bastian still didn’t say anything and Derek rolled his eyes. “You don’t like me? I’m okay with that. I’m not your biggest fan either. Was that a florist across the street?”
The question jarred Sam. “This isn’t a great time to go shopping for flowers.”
“No, but Albie’s Florist has locations all over the city and three of them have been vandalized in the past month.”
Bastian sighed. “And you think this fire was meant for the florist?”
“No. The vandalism isn’t related. We’re ninety percent sure it’s Albie’s ex-mistress who is pissed he didn’t leave his wife for her.”
“Okay, Derek. You know I want you here, but you’re losing me.”
“The point is that the precinct set up cameras outside of the shop so that if it happened again, we’d get a direct feed and have evidence to prosecute. So if our guy came from the east, we might have video evidence. Fifty-fifty chance.”
Sam let out a soft laugh. “You’re a homicide cop. How would you know that?”
“Are you kidding? Albie is about five feet two inches and his wife is a model. Add in the crazy mistress and it’s better than a soap opera.” Sam stared blankly. “Gossip. Cops gossip. That’s how I know.”
