by Willow Mason
“If I call the district commander, he’ll make you go do the tests, and he’ll want a detailed account of what you were doing in each incident, even though this is your day off. He’ll probably land the entire station with more regulations and you know what that means.”
“Fine.” Lucas held up his hands. “The last thing I need is more paperwork to do.”
“Good man.” Syd waved goodbye as the paramedics escorted Lucas back to their ambulance. “Now, just give me a minute here.”
My eyes widened as he pulled a magic wand from his back pocket and frowned in concentration. A puff of pink smoke swirled from the end, rushing around the twins and me before burning up like flash paper.
“You’re now deputised,” Syd said with a wink. “And despite what Lucas thinks, this has given you some characteristics of a police officer. Certainly, enough to get on with the job.”
I stared at my hands, which itched to get to work, scouring the scene for clues. “Are you a fairy, too?”
“Born and bred. That’s why these ladies are partial to asking for me on the job.”
“We should mark out a perimeter,” Rosie said, marching towards the neighbouring property.
“And we’ll need plastic suits and booties, so we don’t contaminate the scene,” Posey added, her face set with purpose. “I presume the pathologist brought some spares in the car?”
“You presumed right.” Syd led us over to the vehicle and we suited up, Rosie protecting the section with blue and white police tape. When I tried to contain my hair inside the tiny hairnet, he caught my arm. “No yet. If you’re willing to lend us some pixie dust, it could cut down the time we spend searching.”
“I’m happy to help in any way.” I pushed the hairnet into my pocket with relief and scratched my scalp. “What magic do you need me to ask for?”
“Clues and suspects.” Syd waved an arm around the overgrown field. “Anything in this place that could pinpoint a lead. If there’s a supernatural involved, the universe should welcome the chance to use magic to stop them.”
It sounded vague, but the twins nodded in encouragement. “Okay.” I held my hand out, focusing on crime shows both real and fictional that I’d watched in the past. With the image of a large magnifying glass and a deerstalker in my head, the pixie dust turned into blue smoke, pouring out across the property with impossible volume.
The wave of colour thinned, turning into a series of arrows. One pointing at the body, another at a patch of rough grass near the windbreak of poplar trees, and a third at the rear of the section, just in front of a six-foot-high wooden fence.
“Let’s go see what we’ve got,” Syd said in a grim voice. “You’ve done well.”
As we neared each arrow, the blue smoke lowered until we couldn’t miss what it pointed towards. A second stake was at the tree line, its clean lines appearing just as sinister as the one protruding from the body. Near the back fence, a pin with a small tear of fabric adhering to its sharp end lay nestled in the long grass.
Once we’d bagged and tagged the evidence, Syd approached the pathologist where the last blue arrow hung in the air. “What can you tell us about the victim?”
“I think it’s safe to say he died of a stab wound,” the doctor said, sitting back on his heels. “Also, he had a wallet in his back pocket so I can make an ID. His name is Blake Stone.”
The name meant nothing to me, but the twins’ faces turned pale and a flash of fear passed over Syd’s expression. He waved us away from the pathologist and, when we were out of earshot, whispered, “Did any of you know he was in town?”
“I’ve never even heard of him before. What does he do?”
“Blake Stone was a monster hunter,” Rosie said in a grim voice. “One of a dozen or so living in New Zealand.”
When she didn’t expand further, I turned to her sister. “And? What monsters does he hunt?”
Posey’s eyes had grown three sizes too large, eating up most of her face. “It’s how the hunters refer to any supernatural. A monster.” She grasped at my hand, squeezing it until my bones creaked and gooseflesh popped up along my arm. “He might have killed any of us.”
Syd’s lips were pressed so hard together they’d almost disappeared. “We need to get this sorted immediately. When news spreads of his death, his fellow hunters will descend on Oakleaf Glade. They could wipe out all of us.”
Chapter Six
“If he was trying to kill one of us,” Muffin said with a snarl, “then it’s not murder, it’s self-defence.”
“The stakes could be part of his kit.” Brody gave a thoughtful frown. Since his arrival home from the morning shift at the café, we’d filled him in on everything that had occurred. “If he tried to hurt Leo, the vampire had every right to retaliate.”
“Except he says he didn’t do it and I don’t think he’s lying.” I sat with a sigh, wishing we were living in yesterday when I was still looking forward to going to the fair with a new beau. “What was a monster hunter doing at the fairgrounds, going on rides?”
“Having a day off?” Rosie suggested. “I’m sure their employment contract allows for some free time.”
“More likely he was sniffing for monsters,” Brody said darkly. “It probably tickled his funny bone to ride the ghost train while he’s searching for ghosts.”
“How can dead people be monsters?” I burst out, waving my hands. “I know my first encounter was scary but really? They don’t even have large teeth.”
“Don’t forget, to him you’re a monster, too.” Rosie took my hand and gave it a brief squeeze. “We all are.”
“Are there supernaturals who abuse their gifts?” The thought seemed anathema to me.
“There are always people, supernatural or human, who abuse their power and positions,” Brody said. “Supernaturals are no different. Think of me, engaging Maisie to scare you. Or think of Hazel.”
The reminder set me back a step, but I had to agree. Whether she meant to or not, my ex next-door-neighbour had caused the death of my great aunt.
“Why don’t the hunters just chase the bad ones, then?”
“They can’t tell the difference.” Brody ran a hand through his hair, puffing out a breath in frustration. “As soon as they concocted the potion that allowed them to see things they shouldn’t, we were all chucked under the same bus.”
Muffin jumped into my lap, accurately predicting I needed the comfort. “Don’t take it personally.”
“How can I not when someone wants me dead just for being me? They’re no better than Nazis.”
“True but not helpful,” Muffin said before purring and rubbing her neck against my arm. “Instead of railing against our current reality, you’d do better to think about how Blake ended up dead. Syd won’t keep you deputised for long, so use those police skills while you have them.”
A good point. “There must be dozens of people in town afraid of Blake but who knew where he’d be?” I pursed my lips as I thought back over everything that had happened that morning. “When I went through the vortex, it felt like arms grabbed hold of me.” I stood up, cradling Muffin against my chest. “A good start might be to see if the invisible whatever-it-was is still hanging around the ghost train. If we can find out what pulled me and presumably Blake into it, we’ll be off to a good start.”
We walked back to the fair—my mood decidedly lower than it had been the first time I’d attended. After the reveal about the victim, Syd had removed himself to the police station, evidence bags in hand. A wave of his wand might have given up some better ideas about policing than usual, but I would have felt more comfortable with him leading this parade.
“Will those guards let us through?” Posey whispered.
Four guards, employed by the fair, stood at each side of the ghost train. Although all of them were large, they’d saved the biggest man for the entrance. With greying red hair tied back in a ponytail and tattoos running over every inch of skin I could see, he appeared more like the leader of a bi
ker gang than security.
“We need a distraction,” I said, scanning the area for inspiration. “Can we magic up some mayhem with the rubbish bins? They’d be loud.”
“It won’t work. You can’t use magic to create destruction, even for a good cause.” Brody stepped up to the guard and tried to look him in the eye. A difficult feat since the man stood half a foot taller. “Hey, mate. Can we pop inside for a second?”
“No.”
“We’re working with the police,” Rosie tried. “Syd Abney sent us to look at something on the tracks.”
“No.”
Muffin jumped out of my arms and walked up to the guard. She stood on her hind legs, placing a paw just below his knee for balance. From experience, I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear her words, but it turned out she didn’t need any.
“Aren’t you a cute wee bundle of fluff?” The burly man said, peering downwards. Muffin mewed and swept her tail from one side to the other, bobbing her head. “Would you like a pat?”
The twins shuffled towards the head of the ride while Brody and I inched towards the tail.
“I’ve got a chocolate bikkie I’ve been saving for later,” the hefty guard told Muffin. “But I think something as cute as you might enjoy a piece.” He pulled it out of his pocket, breaking off a side. “Here you go. Don’t eat the whole thing at… Ah, okay. Here’s another piece for you. Aren’t you a good kitty?”
Brody ducked through the rubber flaps and held them open while I scooted inside. He’d just let them fall into place when the guard yelled out, “Hey!” A short scuffle followed by vehement protesting told us the twins had been caught.
“Now, where’s this vortex?”
I pushed past Brody and nervously crept to the point on the tracks where it had last been. “It’s gone.” A wave of relief hit me, almost immediately stopped when I saw the weird hole had just moved a little farther along the ride. “There it is. Don’t get too close.”
“How near were you when the arms grabbed you?”
“Just on the other side of the track.”
Brody got into position without hesitation. “Now what?” he said a split-second before he jerked forward and disappeared.
“Hello?” I called out, not wanting to follow him into the dark void if I could help it. “Who’s there?”
No answer, apart from a pebble skidding across the tracks. My eyes tried to follow it, but the dim light made it impossible.
“I’m not going to harm you.”
Again, I waited, scared the opposite of my statement might be true. Another stone dropped in the darkness, making me jump.
“Can’t you talk?”
A long pause, then two stones thumped onto the tracks, one hitting so hard it sparked.
One for yes, two for no. When my uncle Augie had a stroke, he’d used a bell to communicate in the same manner. After attending his hospital bedside all day long, I’d go home and hear the sound in my sleep.
“Do you need help?”
One stone bounced just in front of my foot and I jumped back, startled. “That’s a yes.” I closed my eyes and tried to think of a yes or no question that could tell me what this invisible force wanted. “Are you a person?”
Yes.
“Are you part of the vortex?”
Yes. Followed by a no.
“Well, that clears things up,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck where my hairs were prickling. They were standing on end, too, but that was just normal. “Are you a man?”
“Of course, he’s a man,” Muffin said, her unexpected appearance scaring me half to death. “Who else would communicate by throwing stones? Are you a child, is a better question?”
No. Though to judge from Muffin’s expression, she wasn’t entirely convinced.
“Did you kill Blake Stone?”
It could have been my imagination, but the pause this time seemed to last longer. Still, a single stone bounced towards my feet.
“Can you leave the tunnel?” Muffin asked.
No. Yes.
“Is the only way you can leave through the vortex?”
Yes.
I exchanged a glance with my familiar. Everything in Oakleaf Glade had been new territory, but this was even stranger than most.
Muffin gave a resigned sigh. “If we go through the portal, do you have a better way of communicating than by tossing stones?”
Yes.
“I suppose I survived it the first time and Brody probably wants some company.”
As the kitten nodded, I picked her up and zipped her into the front of my light jacket. It wouldn’t stop much getting through but at least she wouldn’t fall out.
“Here goes nothing,” I whispered under my breath and jumped.
Chapter Seven
“Lovely to see you again,” Leo said as I picked myself up from the floor and set Muffin free. “You know, in my culture, we consider pixies to be the prettiest supernatural creatures there are.”
“Your culture?” Muffin snorted. “Didn’t Rosie say you come from Porirua? Wow. Massive culture shock coming all the way down to the South Island.”
“I meant amongst vampires,” Leo snapped. “We have a rich and vibrant history all our own.”
“Mainly involving getting into trouble and needing to be regulated.” Muffin shook her head, giving flight to dozens of hairs. “Tell me. Does your culture have anything to say about this invisible man?”
Brody gave me a quick welcome hug. He was standing close to the door.
“Was Leo here waiting for you?” I whispered to him.
“He came after I arrived. The door was locked, and I was shouting for help.”
“Why on earth did you lock the door?” I asked Leo who was still fumbling for an answer to Muffin’s question.
“Because I don’t need a trail of people coming through my home unannounced,” Leo said, folding his arms and sticking his nose in the air. “I should be down in the basement getting my beauty sleep right now.”
“Good luck with that.” Muffin trotted over to place a paw on my foot. “Now, I asked you a question and you’re starting to seem evasive.”
“What invisible man?” Leo made a point of twisting his head in all directions. “I can’t see anybody.”
Muffin reared up on her hind legs, claws out and hissing. Her fur puffed out to such volume, she appeared to double in size. “Give me a straight answer or I’ll teach you something they missed in undead school.”
To my surprise, Leo’s expression changed to one of nervousness. “All right. There’s no need to get testy. This is a prison of sorts. I imagine the invisible being you encountered is an inmate.”
“What’s a prison?” My head jerked around, peering into the featureless corners. “In the vortex?”
“No. Inside this room. It holds about twenty prisoners at the last count. That’s how I got my accommodation for free.”
“But…” I spun on my heel, my eyes doing a complete circuit. “Are they all invisible?”
“No one’s invisible,” Leo said with a pained sigh. “They’re just not in our time zone.”
Even Muffin looked confused. “Time zones only alter by country. Are you saying they’re simultaneously somewhere else at the same time they’re here?”
“No, I’m saying they’re not on the same time with anything. The prisoners we have confined here are in solitary. Not a single other living being exists at the same time as them.”
I rubbed at my temples, wishing Syd was here. As a law enforcement officer, he must be better equipped to deal with this explanation.
“I don’t understand,” Brody said, saving me and Muffin the trouble.
A paper plane appeared in the middle of the room, striking Leo in the chest. “Not this again,” he thundered, shaking his fist. “Get back to where you belong.”
Before he could beat me to it, I snatched the folded paper off the floor. “Help,” I read aloud. “I’m being held against my will.”
“Fits
with the prisoner theory,” Muffin said in a dry tone. “Has somebody been wrongly convicted?”
“No, they haven’t.” Leo’s face darkened. “And this prisoner is extremely dangerous. I’ve already put a call in for the national authority of supernaturals to come down here to investigate. He shouldn’t be able to communicate with anybody at all, but somehow he’s breached the security and appears to be using the vortex for his own purposes.”
“What is the vortex meant to do?” I asked, trying to unpack his sentence.
“It’s a transport device. Inmates go in one end and come out the other in their designated prison. There shouldn’t be an entrance showing up at all, but at least it wasn’t pointing into the last cell.”
“But where are the cells?” Muffin cried out, her frustrations bubbling over. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re standing in them.” Leo swept his hair back with a flourish. “Each prisoner is sitting alone in a time we haven’t reached yet. They’re separated from us by the matter of a few seconds.”
“Mate, I can see you think you’re making sense,” Brody said in a measured voice. “But nobody here understands a single word you’re saying.”
A second paper aeroplane flew out of thin air, this time swishing straight into my hands. “I’m innocent and the vampire uses far too much hair gel.”
“I do not.” Leo slicked his hair back again while I tried not to laugh. “And he shouldn’t be able to see me at all from where he is. Here’s the thing, the national authority discovered they could shoot people ahead in time, okay?” He lifted his eyebrows at Brody. “Following so far?”
Brody gestured for him to carry on.
“It’s their version of supermax. They’ve put each dangerous prisoner into a different time zone, so they can live in the world without hurting anybody. This one”—he flicked his hand toward the general area where the paper aeroplanes were originating—“seems to have broken through. At least partially.”
“How far ahead of the world is he?” My head was still struggling to make sense of it all.
