Gregson went from flabbergasted to outraged so quickly he likely gave himself emotional whiplash. “Edwards, I take it back, keep him in your sights. Sanderson, I won’t repeat myself.”
“Davenforth!” In a snap, Seaton appeared. Seaton had a wand up, looking about wildly, his hair and clothes mussed as if he’d portaled near here and then sprinted the rest of the distance. “What SOS? What happened—great dark magic, Sanderson! If you cast that spell, I will cut you down like a rabid dog. Drop it, now!”
I’d never been so relieved to see my friend. Bless him for not only portaling in, but doing so at the ready. He was indeed the man to call in an emergency.
“You’re here. Of course he calls you here too.” Sanderson puffed for breath, and his magic became unstable, jittery as he lost control over it. I tensed even further, ready to dive for the floor. Or behind Seaton—his shields might be up to the task. I’d drag Gregson in with me. “He cost me everything, do you hear me! My license, my career, my reputation—it’s all been dragged through the mud. You’d stand for him, knowing that?!”
“You really think he did any of that?” Seaton lifted his wand, and the spell he readied would not only decimate the man ready to curse us, but half the block as well. Sanderson, even as mad as he was in that moment, swallowed hard and fixated on the wand’s tip. “Davenforth didn’t destroy you, Sanderson. You didn’t need his help to manage that. Now, I won’t ask again. Dismiss the spell and give me your wand, or I cut you down where you stand.”
Sanderson stared at us hard, his eyes darting from one face to the next, his rage a palpable thing. Still, some part of his survival instincts warned him doing anything more would be suicidal. He might have been able to best me alone, but he had no chance against all four of us. His wand slowly lowered and with it, the spell dissipated into thin air. The anger stayed flushed in his cheeks for a moment longer before draining slowly away, leaving him an unhealthy, waxy shade of grey. His eyes pinned on me like a belligerent child, not sure where he’d gone wrong, what misstep had landed him where he was. “She wouldn’t stay, you know. If you lost your position, if your reputation was destroyed like mine was, she wouldn’t stay with you.”
Ah. Of course. The missing element to the picture. If he were dismissed, then he’d be a public embarrassment to his lady’s father. Even if she could forgive him for it, her father wouldn’t, and would have pressured her to break their understanding off. The betrayal and heartbreak of that could send any man over the edge. I unwillingly felt some sympathy for him.
He let the wand drop from his fingers. I drew a full breath as he did so, feeling like I could finally breathe once more. Sodding deities, but I never wanted to be that close to death again. Gregson scooted past and put him in cuffs himself, using the ones I had here to restrain a magical user. They were of the purest refined iron available and could stifle any a royal mage. The last of my dread dissipated, although it left me feeling hollow and shaky. Truly, near-death experiences left much to be desired.
Jamie uncocked her gun and let it hang by her side, regarding Sanderson in an unblinking, basilisk glare. “You fool. Your girlfriend breaking up with you isn’t Henri’s doing.”
The man glared at us both venomously as Gregson marched him out of the room.
Seaton dismissed his spell as well, putting away the wand as he noted, “Good magic, man, it looks like a wrecking ball came through here.”
“A wrecking ball with a name,” I answered tartly. With Sanderson gone and in Gregson’s care, I felt much more myself. I was more outraged than anything that the idiot had dared use me to unleash his anger upon.
Turning to me, Jamie’s eyes swept over me from top to bottom. “You okay?”
“I’m well. A bit singed around the edges, perhaps, but well enough for all that.”
She put an arm around me and hugged me tight, and I lingered for a moment. I needed a second to pull myself together, as the shock was just now hitting. I’d come far too close to staring death in the face just now. She smelt of sunshine and warm skin, and the tactile sensation soothed me as nothing else in the world could.
Seaton interrupted the moment by scooting around me, heading for the spectral energy spill. I mentally blessed him for being so quick-acting to clean that up. As he moved, he took a proper look behind my work table, which was where the worst of the mess was. “Why in blazes would Sanderson come after you? I know the two of you fight like sharks and dolphins, but this is a bit over the top, even for him.”
“We’ll need to report the whole thing to Gregson anyway. Just sit in and listen so he doesn’t have to repeat himself,” Jamie told her friend. She kept one hand on me, grip firm. I wasn’t the only one rattled and needing a grounding touch, it seemed. “And after that, we head for the nearest decent bar.”
“Great sodding deities, yes,” I agreed on a long sigh. “I am in desperate need of a drink.”
“First round’s on me,” Seaton promised.
Cleaning up this mess, not to mention the paperwork, would be tiresome in the extreme. But I was alive to deal with it, and I had two friends to thank for coming so immediately to my rescue. Really, I couldn’t ask for anything more.
It was near midnight by the time Gregson released Henri and I. Sherard still took us out to a bar afterwards—frankly, we all needed it—but we were so exhausted we barely got more than two rounds in before we opted for home. I steered Henri home by the elbows. He was completely done in and barely cognizant. He stumbled into his apartment on his own two feet, though, and gave me a sweet smile and goodnight before likely face-planting into his bed.
Mercy, what a day. I was rattled enough I didn’t choose to immediately go to bed. I felt like nightmares and flashbacks loomed in my immediate future, and it wouldn’t do me any good to close my eyes right now. It had been more than a little terrifying to see Sanderson pointing a wand at Henri, destruction all around them. Sanderson had looked insane, like a rabid dog. I honestly hadn’t been sure if he’d stand down, even with me pointing a gun at him. It called up bad memories from my time on Earth, when I’d been in a similar situation. Only that time, I hadn’t pulled out of it with everyone alive. Thank any god listening Henri had been safely extracted.
Feeling those dark memories looming, I stayed up instead, recording in a journal everything that had happened. It was therapeutic, getting it all down on paper, even if the only person in this world who could read it was me.
By the time I got it all down, my mind settled, it was nearly two in the morning. I finally turned in, setting the alarm for nine, as Gregson had given us the morning off. We didn’t need to be up until later, so I took advantage and slept as much as I could.
I didn’t sleep well, flipping and flopping quite a bit, and Clint gave up on staying anywhere near me an hour in. Still, I slept, which was better than I’d expected. Somewhere around eight, I woke up naturally and didn’t feel like dozing. I was a bit worried for Henri. For all that he’d faced dangerous situations, it was a different thing to be ambushed in your own space, by a supposed colleague. I knew this from experience. When the mind was able to brace itself for danger, it handled the situation better. Being caught off guard rattled you down to your core.
With that idea in mind, I used the texting pad to contact him, as that seemed a nonintrusive way to check in. Hey, you up?
It took a good minute for him to respond, his handwriting less precise than normal. Mostly.
Want a breakfast burrito? Not that I had the ingredients for it, I’d have to pop out to the corner market, but I was willing to do that.
If you’re offering, I won’t turn you down.
If he had, I’d have checked him into the nearest hospital. The day Henri turned down a homecooked meal, he was either on his deathbed, or he’d been kidnapped and was trying to signal me. Thirty minutes, then come up.
Will do.
I popped out, snagged the ingredients from the cheerful grocer—someone was having a good morning—and quickly re
treated to my place. I stayed in jogging clothes, as I didn’t feel like wearing a suit this morning. It was easier to cook in and far more comfortable. In short order I had several pans sizzling with meat and eggs, various veggies caramelizing in butter, all the smells beyond tempting. Of course, my bloodhound partner followed the scents straight through my open door, a smile lighting his face as he came in.
One glance at him told the full story. For all his exhaustion, he hadn’t slept well. There were dark circles under his eyes and a distinct drag to his feet. He was mostly dressed, his usual cravat and coat missing, hair still damp but combed. He hadn’t been up long, then.
“Morning,” I greeted, stirring eggs to keep them from scorching.
“Thank you for not saying ‘good morning.’” He wearily dropped onto the bar stool across from me.
“Yeah, I’m not feeling a good morning. How are you, Henri?”
“I kept waking up and searching frantically for a wand,” he answered with a grimace. “Panic dreams kept me up most of the night. I’m quite dead on my feet and not looking forward to writing that formal report of events. Gregson will need it to properly process Sanderson.”
Oh yeah. I’d almost forgotten that. “I’ll have Penny or Sherard help me write mine.”
“Bless you. I won’t have time to help you. Not if we’re to get it done before we have to track down our suspect at the docks. And I still have to properly clean up and restore order to my lab.” Henri wiped a hand over his face, looking quite ready to tumble back into bed. “Seaton did report something interesting to me this morning. He was alarmed enough at Sanderson’s actions last night to do some digging.”
I scraped eggs out of a skillet, ready to mix everything together to melt with the cheese, but gave him a go-ahead nod. “And?”
“Turns out there’s a reason why Sanderson is so incompetent. He cheated in order to get his license.”
My head came up sharply. “Dude! Seriously? Although I suppose it does explain a lot. Cheated how?”
“The final exam we all take in order to pass the qualifiers for a magical license? You know which one I mean?”
“Sure. It’s the one you tested highest on, the test you beat Sherard’s score in.”
“That very one.” He looked smug I’d remembered that. It was more like, Sherard still complained about it from time to time. “Sanderson paid someone else to take the test for him. There’re protocols in place to prevent that sort of thing, but he’d found a way around them, apparently.”
I let out a low whistle. “And let me guess. This all started coming to light when Sherard made that formal complaint, and people started to investigate Sanderson?”
“Basically.” Henri lifted his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “As Seaton explained it to me, the investigator over the case questioned why someone so incompetent managed to maintain his position with the police. Hence why he investigated Sanderson’s connection with the police commissioner. But the more he uncovered, the more he found to question, and eventually he went all the way back to Sanderson’s magical license. So, in fact, Sanderson is in jeopardy of losing it all. I’d be very surprised if at the end of this week he’ll have woman, job, or magical license to his name.”
Shaking my head, I went back to pouring the yummy interior into a wrap, finishing our breakfasts. “You’d think if you’d cheated your way into a job with the police, you’d have enough sense to keep your head down.”
“As we’ve already seen on multiple occasions, Sanderson is not capable of making good life decisions.”
I snorted a laugh because it was so true. “At least he’s out of your hair now. No one’s going to make the argument that a cheating dastard with a volatile temper should be allowed to stay. Here.” I set the plate in front of him with a soft clink. “I’ve got juice or sampni sun tea.”
“Tea, please. I need it this morning.”
Henri normally opted for tea. I was not a fan of this particular flavor—it didn’t really taste like sampni—but I kept a tin in the house for him. I fixed him a cup with two spoons of honey, the way he liked it. Henri accepted both plate and cup with a happy and inarticulate hum. A bear coming out of hibernation, presented with a feast of salmon and berries, could not have been happier. He was so easy to please.
I joined him on the other side of the bar, and for a time we just ate breakfast and let the world go by us. He popped up to make himself another one, then fixed one for me as well. It was definitely one of those days where we compensated the lack of sleep with food.
“So…what are you going to tell your parents about last night?” I ventured as I accepted the plate from him.
Henri’s expression looked pained from the very depths of his soul. “Must I?”
“You’d rather them hear it through rumor mill, when it gets totally blown out of proportion and your mother breaks into your apartment, convinced you’re dying?” I countered.
“Deities preserve us, she would, too.” He hunkered down into his seat, fixedly staring at nothing but his burrito. Finally, he muttered, “After breakfast.”
“Okay,” I agreed mildly. Hopefully he meant that. Otherwise she really would break into his apartment.
We lost about three hours to writing reports and filing them to the right people. We had to submit triplicates to different agencies, as Sanderson was under professional investigation, and various people had to be notified. Henri finally did call his mother and gave her a very downplayed version of events. I listened in on this in amusement and he kept shooting me warning glares about interrupting him. Not that I would. Hearing him tap-dance around the truth like this was vastly entertaining. I mean, I’d witnessed part of that madness and I barely recognized the events he described.
By late afternoon, we’d managed to appease people long enough to go back to our investigation. It was a mite early for the Windsprite to be in, but better safe than sorry. I asked a few uniforms to help me canvas the docks, make sure we didn’t lose him, but went down with Henri to talk to the man ourselves.
It was a rather nice summer’s day, and being this close to the ocean, the breeze kept it cool. The docks were hoppin’, ships coming in with the tide, cargo and passengers offloading, dockhands scurrying about. It made for interesting times trying to navigate it all without tripping over someone or getting knocked off into the water. I kept close to Henri as we made our way down. If I lost him in this crowd, I’d never find him again.
Halfway down, we found our ship. It was another six-mast trading ship with a massive hull. I understood this to not be unusual—windwhisperers were almost exclusively used for ships of this size to keep them moving on the open ocean. Still, I had to wonder what that did to poor Martin, to once again be on a ship of the same class and size not a month after almost dying on one. Surely the man had PTSD from the experience. Was it wise to put him on a ship again this soon?
We found a corner of the dock, near the gangplank, to stop and wait. I had a brief description of what Martin looked like, but really, we were watching for his uniform. He’d be wearing the light blue and white tunic and loose pants of a sailor, and the three blue stripes on his sleeve to mark him as a windwhisperer.
“Which do you think it will be?” Henri mused to me in a low tone, barely audible above the din of the crowd around us. “Will he flee like a guilty man or talk with us?”
“I honestly have no idea. I’m still not sure he did it. All we’ve got is circumstantial evidence at this point.”
“True. Just because he’s the only one who looks guilty doesn’t mean it’s him.” Henri gave me a sidelong look. “But you do think it’s him.”
“Gut instinct. And we haven’t found anyone else with the right motive, timing, and magical ability. If it’s not him, we’re going to be up a creek with no paddle.”
Henri’s mouth curved into an approving smile. “Look at you, using aquatic metaphors.”
I rolled my eyes at him in exasperation. “Henri, I hate to break this to you, but t
hat one’s from Earth.”
“Is it really?”
“We do have seven oceans, you know. Your people didn’t invent bodies of water—oh hey, is that him?”
Henri perked up and looked where I did, spying the compact blond with a sailor’s long duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “He’s got the stripes and right look, at least. Let’s call out to him.”
Since I’m naturally louder than my quiet partner, I did the honors. “Mr. Robert Martin!”
Sure enough, his head turned and he looked at us askance. Something about us must have said ‘cop’ to him. His eyes widened and he turned and immediately bolted.
I swore, even as I started chasing him, Henri on my heels. Well, at least, he tried. No one on this planet who was purely human could keep up with me at full speed. Martin only kept his head start because he kept plowing through groups of people, upsetting them, and blocking my path of pursuit. I grimly kept at it, leaping over displaced crates, downed people, and anything else that got in my way.
He tossed several wind spells over his shoulder, trying to knock me over or slow me down. Because there was magic in the wind, I was immune to the attack, and I kept running without issue. That spooked him properly and he ran even harder after that.
The cool breeze didn’t keep me from warming up, and I was overheating quickly in the jacket, but I didn’t pause to take it off. I was gaining on him slowly, and with every look back, Martin cost himself an extra two seconds. I grinned wolfishly. It was human instinct to keep track of your pursuers, but it really did cost people in the long run.
Maybe he sensed he’d be down in a few seconds. I didn’t know for sure, but he suddenly planted his feet and turned, the expression on his face ugly. It was the look of a man cornered, one so desperate he didn’t care about the consequences. I’d seen that expression on people’s faces before, and nothing good had followed.
Magic Outside the Box Page 18
