by Scott Rhine
“She’s literally reaching out from the grave here. Aren’t you freaking out?”
I stared at the screen. “This survived the fire for a reason. The angels are giving me clues. This is a good thing.”
Shaking her head, my friend said, “I don’t know. If someone was able to ambush Althea, at least one of her assumptions must be wrong. Her big plan for fighting this killer failed. I don’t know if we should listen to the last clip. If we follow her example, the same thing could happen to us.”
“There are more of us, and she gave me her strongest protection.” I held up my amulet.
“Well, I don’t have anything.”
“Please.” I grasped her hand. “Listen to it with me.”
“Fine. If I get through this, I’m going on a pilgrimage to Rome.”
I pressed Play again.
“I wish I had better news, poppet. I have two methods to try. The first involves finding the tattoo hidden on the animate’s body and removing the words with a steel eraser. The second method isn’t as simple.”
Luca talked over the playback. “Simple? Has she ever held a magic-proof juggernaut down while performing surgery on it?”
“Shh,” I paused the recording until she agreed to behave.
“The killer needs to claim a fresh victim every year because the power supply of the animate decays over time. In this case, the battery is the talent and life force of a witch—the reason active magic bounces off of it or even recharges it. That gives us a loophole. A witch’s powers can be suspended in several ways, such as the ancient ceremony of the bell, the book, and the candle. Interrupt the power, and the animate will revert to its natural state, a patchwork doll made of flesh.
“Using data about the Advent killings, I’ve been able to narrow my list to five people. This is all assuming it’s a witch and not a warlock who can pass unseen. I actually followed your brother for a week to make sure it wasn’t him. I left the reduced list, along with everything I’ve deduced about the killer, in my office safe in a file folder labeled ‘Lupus.’ If anything happens to me, take it to an open session of the Council and read it in front of everyone.”
“No!” said Luca. “Tell us the names. How did you winnow them? Go to the next one.”
“That was it, all four files.”
She stared at the screen in disbelief. “Great. Like I’m going to be able to sleep after hearing that.”
A monster is hunting young witches. I ducked into the bathroom and put my watch back on. The loss of privacy in exchange for protection suddenly sounded like a fair tradeoff. When I returned to my bedroom, I said, “I like that hair braid you do that looks like a lobster tail. Could you show me how to weave it?”
“Sure.” Brushing my hair helped calm Luca. “I’ll stick around until your father gets back, no matter how late.”
“You’re a good friend.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be alone either tonight.”
After presenting me with a stunning new hairdo, she asked, “Could I see your mother’s kaleidoscope?”
I fished it out of my backpack and focused the lens on her. “You hands shimmer a dark blue, showing where the majority of your magic flows.”
She accepted the device and played with the dials. After marveling at her own aura for a while, she raised the lens to examine me. “Oh, God. Your face is shining, especially your eyes.” Handing back the kaleidoscope, she said, “You are a saint.”
Then Luca ran from the house, slamming the front door on her way out.
“I guess Dad was right about the deodorant.”
She knocked on the same door a few minutes later with a sleeping bag under her arm and a weapon’s case slug over her shoulder.
I opened up for her. “Forget something?”
Luca rushed inside. “I needed my gear if I’m spending the night.”
Confused, I pointed to the name on the case. “What’s a Benelli?”
She unsnapped it, eager to show me. “An ultralight 12 gauge automatic.” Luca removed the shiny weapon and practically caressed it as she listed the features. “It weighs only five pounds due to alloys and carbon fiber. The stock has an inertial drive, which reduces recoil to a feathery kiss. The barrel and choke are cryo-forged so they won’t warp from excessive firing.”
“Do I need to leave the two of you alone?”
This made her grin. “On my sixteenth birthday, I was given a choice between a used car or this. It’s the law-enforcement model. Cars break after a few years, but with proper care, my Benelli will last forever. It improved my average scores by two on the trap team. With spell-enhanced sighting, I rarely miss. She even has special ammunition for street combat. Want to hold her?”
The thought of touching it made me queasy. “Its sole purpose is to kill people.”
“Yes, if you hit them before they hit you, which is why I practice so much.”
“We’re not allowed to play with guns. After so much time reporting on wars, Dad doesn’t like them. I’m glad to have you sleep over, but why bring that?”
Her smile vanished. “If murdering a weak witch gives the killer a year of life, how much can he get from a saint of your power? He might never need to hunt again if he takes your heart. If he stalked your mother, we have to assume he knows about you. Think of what he could do with your ability to subvert wards. Nobody would be safe.”
31. Shelter
On Saturday morning at six-thirty, Dad opened the door to my bedroom. Luca scared the crap out of him by aiming at his chest and chambering a round. When she woke up enough to recognize him, she lowered the gun. “Good morning, Mr. Morris.” To give us time alone, she ducked into my bathroom to dress and brush her teeth.
Without lowering his hands, he asked, “Do I want to know? Did you rob a Mexican cartel while I was gone?”
“Ha, ha!” He didn’t laugh along, so I explained. “We found a final message from Mom that freaked us out a little.”
This piece of information interested him more than the custom weapon resting on the sleeping bag. “Let me see it.”
“Sorry,” I replied. “Confidential witch stuff.”
I could tell this hurt him, so I handed over the postcard and vial of sand. “Mom kept these in a vault because they meant so much to her.”
The gun would’ve been cleaner. As he accepted the offerings, his hand shook, and he couldn’t speak. Then Dad disappeared into his room, closing the door behind him. I’d just set his grief clock back six months.
I changed into civilian clothes, my best Sunday dress. Because the weather was overcast, I chose a tan suede jacket to go with the outfit.
Luca popped out shortly after I slipped my leather shoes on. She wore her workout clothes, combat boots, and her family Book strapped against her hip like a gunslinger. “How mad was he?”
“He’s got other things on his mind. The postcard hit him pretty hard. Let’s eat and give him a chance to process.”
The van in our driveway honked at five till seven. I waved Miss C in.
She glanced around the kitchen. “He keeps a clean house. What smells so good?”
I offered her some coffee and monkey bread.
“No, thanks. The carbs go straight to my hips, and I’ve already reached my target heart rate for the day. Where’s Ishmael?”
Licking my lips, I made up an excuse. “He had a late night. He might not be coming with us.”
She frowned a bit. “Well, he’s human, too. Can’t burn the candle at both ends for that long without consequences. We’ll bring him back dinner.”
Luca glanced at her phone. “We can pick the other girls up at Lilith’s. Stick the scope into my mace holster.”
I slipped the kaleidoscope into the empty pouch beside her Book. Once it was clipped in securely, she pulled the shotgun from its hiding place under the kitchen-nook table. Lastly, she snapped the keys out of my Math teacher’s hand. “I’ll go first. When I clear the route, you two follow.”
Miss C opened her mout
h to object, but I stopped her. “It’s necessary.” Reluctantly, I donned the glasses that obscured my talent.
Luca slid open the van’s side door, revealing that the back of her vehicle was already stocked to the rafters with sacks dry food: Italian bread, canned goods, dried beans, and cookies. “I guess that explains why you drive a box on wheels.”
“I saw a lot of hunger on the reservation, and I vowed to change things. Now would you mind explaining why Miss Benedetto is treating you like the President and scanning the lawn like men with AK-47s are about to jump out?”
“Call her Lucretia in public. She doesn’t want anyone making the leap to her mother’s name.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
I lowered my voice. “When we’re in the vehicle, we can discuss Council business. I don’t want Dad to worry.”
She raised her eyebrows but remained silent.
Luca waved us out and watched the tree line. After the two of us were clipped into the front, she closed the side door. “Go.”
“Do you have directions to the matriarch’s house?” Miss C asked.
Luca passed up her phone, which was already voicing instructions.
Once we pulled onto the main road, Miss C asked, “Can you tell me now, or are there ninja lip-readers in the woods?”
My friend snickered in the back. “You can’t read lips through tinted windows.”
I hit the highlights of Mom’s serial killer investigation and how she died.
“I see,” was all the teacher would say.
“You know more than you’re letting on,” Luca accused. “I scanned Isa through the scope on her way out, and the glasses mute her aura.”
Miss C looked nervous. “The headmistress didn’t give me specifics, merely that Isa might attract the wrong sort of attention if we didn’t veil her.”
Luca wasn’t satisfied. “You mean you didn’t know her eyes are like a beacon for anything hungry for magic?”
“Could you please safety that weapon?” Miss C asked. “And give me that scope.”
“No. I need it to make sure Isa gets back home alive.”
Halting at a stop sign, Miss C held out her right hand. “No, sweetheart. That’s my job as an adult. Witches who don’t have a master ranking can’t carry those kaleidoscopes in public. Most supernatural creatures are harmless and rely on invisibility. If they know you can see them, they tend to take drastic countermeasures. I’m not kidding. No one goes an inch further until you give me the scope.”
My friend wouldn’t budge.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I trust her with my life.”
Miss C cocked her head. “Why, I believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said.”
Luca tucked the kaleidoscope into the thick purse on the central console. “She’ll need it back once we get home.”
“Of course,” said the teacher, resuming the course to Lilith’s.
We were two minutes away according to the GPS, so I texted the two that we were nearby.
“Why are you so protective of our young newcomer?” asked Miss C.
The question made Luca uneasy. “The world has a shortage of people who generate light. Just watch her today with the shut-ins. You’ll see.”
“Indeed. I couldn’t get you all background checks for Meals on Wheels by today, so we’re hauling food from the county food pantry to the emergency shelter.”
“What are you packing, ma’am?” Luca asked, hiding the shotgun under a blanket on the floor.
“Call me Emma, today. All you need to know is that if I engage with someone, your job is to run to safety with Isa.”
“Copy,” replied Luca.
“But pray for a boring day.”
A minute later, Luca said, “Holy crap!”
Miss C slammed on the brakes at the matriarch’s front gate. “What? Warlocks? Shadow wolves?”
“Blaise has a purple stripe in her hair. With that makeup and hairdo, she could get picked up in a bar.”
“Come now. You’re exaggerating,” Emma said. “Oh, my. She does look several years older in that outfit and—the wavy hair.”
She meant push-up bra. My cousin who lived in a basement had prominent breasts, and I didn’t. Life wasn’t fair.
Luca slid open the door. “That’s an impressive makeover.”
“Thank you,” said Lilith. “I think if we take B to the baseball diamond Monday over lunch, she’s going to have boys buzzing all around her.”
“Who cares if the girls hate me then?”
I high-fived Lilith. “I think we found your talent.”
As we got rolling, Emma said tactfully, “Sometimes, an outfit like that should be reserved for one special gentleman.”
Blaise snorted. “Said the woman who gets no attention ever.”
Embarrassed by my cousin’s behavior, I said, “I think you’re going to be eating those words in another two years. Dad spends more time talking to her than he does me. Emma has the kind of classy beauty that sneaks up on you.”
Now, it was her turn to blush.
“Whatever, Isa,” said Blaise. “Next you’re going to say something nice about that old maid who sent us on this punishment.”
“What’s wrong with finding something nice to say about everyone?” I replied. “The headmistress has a wonderful gift to know what people are thinking but doesn’t use it to humiliate them, which she could do very easily.”
Emma said, “Ms. Bradstreet said wonderful things about Isa at Binky’s pool party last night.”
“What?” chorused the other Rejects at once.
Luca shook her head. “No way he invited you. He’s hot.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Binky Hellerman, the headmaster of the boys’ school,” Luca replied, shushing me.
Lilith almost swooned. “So charismatic. He’s the best fundraiser we’ve ever had.”
“Not so good at discipline, though,” Emma confided. “Those boys can be hellions, and he leaves all his correctional duties to his assistant. They tend to burn out fast and quit.”
I said, “Dad says people have to know you genuinely care for them before they’ll respect you. That’s why he’s collecting tickets at the boys’ football game next Friday.” Of course, every teacher had to volunteer for extracurricular activities, and the ones with seniority already had the cherry jobs.
“If it weren’t for your brother’s issue, Ishmael might be eligible for a position as assistant.” Emma looked surprised, as if the words had slipped out—my powers at work. Having blurted the bizarre statement, she proceeded to back up her reasoning. “The headmaster doesn’t like bookkeeping, and I mentioned at the faculty mixer that your father ran his own two businesses as well as the finances for your mother’s. So if you behave yourself this year, your father could be promoted the next time someone quits.”
No pressure. “I’ll try,” I said. “Does he know he’s on the short list?”
“Grooming is a process. I’ve suggested he take a night class in education at the local university, but I didn’t tell him why.”
On one hand, she was being sneaky and manipulative. On the other, it was for his own good. This was new territory for me. Was she doing this because Dad wasn’t rich or financially stable enough to settle down without her stacking the deck? Or did she just want him to succeed despite himself. I really wanted to pull my glasses down to peek at her intentions, but I controlled myself.
Blaise was still stuck on the previous topic. “How did you end up at a high-end pool party when I doubt you own a swimsuit?”
“To tell the truth, I was bringing the cake. Fancy cakes are my summer job.” At the next stop sign, Emma unlocked her phone and showed us a series of photos. It wasn’t a Walmart sheet cake with Congratulations printed across the top. She had a thin center of blue gelatin, surrounded by a horde of gummy bears enjoying themselves and sitting under beach umbrellas with tiny drinks.
“The detail is amazing,” said Blaise.
“So imaginative,” Lilith admitted with surprise.
“The beach side is white with lemon filling, and the pool portion is chocolate with black cherry.”
Luca swept right to find a scrapbook full of other icing masterpieces. “You make a lot of custom wedding cakes. Maybe you should find some up-and-coming photographer and suggest a merger.”
The other girls went, “Ooo.”
Embarrassed, Emma snatched her phone back.
I changed the subject by asking her, “Is it true that only one in every eight witch marriages lasts?”
“Heavens, no. There are complicating factors, though. For instance, the incidence of homosexuality among warlocks is twice that of the general population. Sensitive men tend to lean that way.”
Lilith nodded. “Master witches rise to be at the top of their fields, which can unintentionally threaten men.”
“True that,” Luca said.
Now my cousin snorted in derision. “Jeez, Benedetto, you intentionally threaten everyone.”
“Very well, I might add,” I said to smooth her feathers.
I needn’t have worried because we had arrived at an old middle-school building and parked in the back by the cafeteria. Emma whispered, “Try to be quite as you unload the groceries.”
“I thought we were visiting shut-ins,” said Lilith.
I explained about the background checks and the emergency shelter. “From past experience, this is a temporary place where homeless or displaced people can stay the weekend, grab a shower, and have hot food. The meals are usually simple but good.”
“What do you mean displaced?” asked Lilith.
Emma put on her tactful expression. “Sometimes a person’s spouse or parents have an anger or drug problem, and they need a safe place.”
All ears, Luca sat up. “Is it safe for Isa?”
“Yes. The local ROTC boys serve as bouncers. Men can’t sleep over, but we can hand out food boxes to them. If anyone is obviously violent or intoxicated, they’re tossed.”
Blaise lifted an enhanced eyebrow. “What else do these ROTC boys do?”
“Check in the clients, interview them, and pass out the essentials. You ladies are cleaning up the breakfast dishes, cooking lunch, serving it, and cleaning up again afterward.”
