by Sarah Biglow
“You’ve apologized enough. I should have been able to talk to you about all of it, but I got lost in my own grief and I didn’t want to push you away any more than I already had. But I’m so glad we’ve had this time together. I know your mother would be proud of you.”
“I’ll see you this afternoon, Dad. Love you.” I set about making myself presentable for my trip to the prison to see Taggart. After that side trip, I could spend a little more time doing my hair and make-up in preparation for the ceremony.
“I’m glad you’re doing this,” Grandma said from behind me.
“Happy you approve,” I replied and continued applying eyeliner.
“I was worried there for a minute that it was going to be all doom and gloom til the very end. But you’re doing something for yourself and you’re making that young man immeasurably happy.”
“Have you … I don’t know … seen Des in there?” I gestured to the pendant. “Is he ever going to talk to me?”
“Manifestation like this takes time.” She pointed to the pendant. “And while I don’t know for sure how that thing works, I have to believe it gives you who you need when you need them. Even if you can’t see him, you know he’s here with you.”
“I feel like I’m failing him by not getting the answers he deserves. To know who pulled the trigger.”
“Have you stopped to consider that he isn’t the one in need of those answers? That you’re really the driving force behind this crusade?’
“He’d want to know the truth.”
“And if you find it, what are you going to do with it? That awful Wickham man doesn’t even remember magic exists or that he ever had it to begin with. He certainly doesn’t know he was an accessory to kidnappings and murders.”
“Then I will punish whoever still remembers,” I answered sharply, slamming the eyeliner pencil down on the dresser. For a split second I could swear I smelled the nauseating scent of burning sugar. Like someone had tried to flambé strawberry and failed miserably.
“And you’re sure talking with that bad FBI agent is the right move?”
“He’s been involved with this since the beginning. If anyone knows what the plan was, it’s Taggart. You’re not going to talk me out of it. Besides, he’s an asshole, but he’s not stupid. He’s not going to try anything while I’m there. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to find out what solitary confinement does to a man’s psyche.”
“Don’t lose sight of what today is supposed to be about,” she said as I headed for the door, sliding my badge around my neck, pulling on my jacket and belting on my sidearm.
The city was surprisingly empty at this hour on my trip to the prison. I couldn’t’ shake Grandma’s suggestion that Des didn’t’ care who’d killed him. Of course, he cared. It wasn’t just me trying to tie up loose ends. Right? I’d been honest with Theodora last night that I didn’t want to think about the prophecy, because of the possibility it meant I wouldn’t be walking away from this confrontation. Maybe I did need the answers so I could face that possibility knowing I wasn’t leaving anything left undone.
As I sat in my car, waiting for visiting hours to start at the prison, I could feel the weight of the world’s magic shifting around me. Darkness pressed against me more than I’d felt in a long time and I shivered despite the heat blasting me in the face. Maybe it was more than just the chill in the air that was getting to me.
“You can feel it now, the power which will see you beaten,” an exhaustingly familiar voice said from the backseat.
I adjusted the rear-view mirror to find the faceless shadowy figure lounging in the back seat like I was its damn chauffeur. I could see its fingers were hooked and scarred, permanently in claws. “So, you can pop up when I’m awake now, too?”
“I am everywhere. I am Death and my strength only grows. I have come to make you a simple offer. Bow down and join me, willingly grant me your power … I will spare you and those you love.”
I couldn’t resist rolling my eyes. “Right, because I’m just going to believe the faceless thing that’s trying to end the world as I know it. I’ll pass.”
The feeling of fingers running along the nape of my neck turned my stomach, threatening to grant my breakfast burrito an encore. I spun, reaching for the figure behind me, but it was already gone. The scent of ash and decay was the only thing left in its wake.
It had really been here this time. Not just a figment in my head. Maybe it was right, and it was growing in power as the Winter Solstice neared and dark magic gained its foothold in the world.
“No, it’s just trying to keep you off balance, because you’re getting closer to unraveling its twisted plans,” I chided, shaking my head as my phone alarm blared that I could go in to see Taggart now.
The bleary-eyed officer on duty at check-in looked at me like he’d never seen another human being at this hour before. I showed him my badge. “I’m here to see Jamison Taggart.”
“You have an appointment?” He barely stifled a yawn.
“Nope, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still request to speak with him.”
He turned his attention to the computer screen just out of my view and tapped away. “You’re in luck. He just got released from the Infirmary. Give me a few minutes and I’ll get you checked in.”
I leaned against the opposite wall while I waited, wondering what had landed him in the infirmary. I knew former law enforcement tended to be easy targets in prison. Despite that he had magic and he’d been very clear about not caring who saw him use it. Still, I thought he’d been keeping a low profile.
Some ten minutes later, I’d stowed my badge, gun, and phone in a locked container before being led through to a private interview room. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked just like the one we’d been in during our last conversation six months ago. When I’d come to him asking for information on three missing children. He’d disavowed any knowledge and I’d taken him at his word then. I didn’t have the luxury of believing he didn’t know anything about the current situation. I settled in the rigid metal chair on one side of the table and waited.
The door opened and Taggart shuffled in. his gait hindered by shackles on his ankles and the brace on his left leg keeping it immobilized. His wrists were bound in front of him. Though it was his face that made me inhale audibly. Someone had used it as a punching bag. He sported dark bruises under both eyes conveying the broken nose even before I noted the unnatural angle. He may have tried to murder me and had used an innocent man to commit crimes for him, but I still scooted back. I wanted to give him space to stretch out his leg as much as the shackles allowed.
He winced as he sat, and I turned to the guard. “Unshackle his ankles.”
“Can’t do that Ma’am,” he said.
“If you won’t, then I will. He’s in a leg brace, he isn’t running anywhere.” I stood and held out my hand for the keys.
The guard heaved a sigh and bent to undo the lock. Taggart relaxed as he stretched the injured leg out in front of him. When the guard moved to stand sentinel by the door, I waved him out. “I’ll be fine, Officer.”
“Whatever you say, Detective.”
“Ezri Trenton, to what do I owe this particular early morning disturbance?” Taggart said, his voice distorted by the damage to his nasal cavity.
“Oh, you know, I wanted to take a trip down memory lane with my favorite murderous ex-FBI agent.”
He leaned forward, but I caught the wince as he did so. If I had to guess, he had some bruised ribs under those prison blues. The fact he knew my name and gave me his usual look of disdain at least confirmed he still possessed his memories. “You only ever come here when you want something.”
“Well, it’s not like we’re prison pen pals. And as it happens, I do need something from you.” I lowered my voice. “I need you to throw me into that wall.”
“I can assure you despite the evidence to the contrary, I have not recently suffered head trauma. I have no desire to end up in solitary confinement.
”
“I don’t need you to lay a hand on me. I just need to confirm something.” Moreover, solitary confinement might be safer for him if the death creature really was starting to pick off Order members. Then again, given its appearance in my back seat, maybe not.
“What are you playing at, Savior?”
“Funny you should mention that word. In case it’s news to you, I’ve got another prophecy hanging over my head that your Order buddies aren’t too keen on me averting.”
“You do have a nasty habit of getting in the way of such carefully laid plans.”
“And surviving stabbings?” I quipped.
“For argument’s sake, let’s assume I do know that there is something brewing that you might hypothetically be involved in. What on earth makes you think I’m going to throw you across this room?”
I pointed toward the door. “We both know that he’ll never know. And it’s to prove a point. Now, am I going to have to make the first move so you can claim self-defense or are you going to grow some balls and just do it?”
The room grew thick with the scent of garlic, although it wasn’t nearly as rotten as it had been when he was controlling Kevin months ago. Before my own power could react, I was on my feet and pinned to the wall opposite him. My chest constricted and I fought to breathe. As instinct took over and my arms flailed on autopilot, I realized that he’d called upon the bit of his magic I carried within me. He was turning it against me, willing it to encase me in stone.
“Point proven. Back down before I make you,” I ground out, the smell of strawberries cascading off me in waves, forcing the magic down and back into its dormant state.
Taggart slumped against the chair when my feet were planted on the ground again. He hadn’t used his magic in a while if it had worn him out that much. He took a few deep, if ragged, breaths to regain his composure. “And what point were we just proving?”
“That you still have your magic.”
His brow furrowed which seemed unnecessary, the gesture being quite painful given the injury to his nose. “Why wouldn’t I still have it?”
“Because your buddy Reuben Wickham somehow succeeded in raising that death creature and it’s going around ripping magic away from members of the Order. Not that I care about bad guys no longer being a threat to the good, law-abiding practitioners in this city, but I’m not thrilled about it amassing power.”
“They managed it?” He murmured.
“Bringing back Bearach’s death manifestation from eight hundred years ago? Yeah, they did. Now you’re going to tell me why and what it wants.”
He looked at me with watery eyes, so unlike the man who’d strode into the precinct nearly a year ago and acted like he was the savior of all our problems. “You really expect me to have insight into activities that have taken place since my incarceration? As I told you at our last meeting, I have no information to give. I have cut ties with them.”
“So, you haven’t seen Dominic Janty or Reuben Wickham since you’ve been locked up?”
“Much to your chagrin I have not. We associated for a purpose, but that doesn’t mean I liked them or enjoyed spending time with them. It was more of a mutually beneficial arrangement than any sort of friendship.”
“Whose idea was it to try and bring back the druids in the first place?”
“You’d love it to be mine, wouldn’t you?” He scoffed.
“Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised. But the more I dig into the Order, the more I’m beginning to see you don’t actually have a real figurehead. You all like to talk a big game about being in charge and having power. Yet all you’ve done is manipulate other people into hurting others and what has it gotten you? A life sentence in a place where everyone else wants you dead. And Wickham doesn’t even remember he ever had magic.”
“That’s not possible.”
I leaned back in the chair and propped my hands behind my head. “Oh, it most definitely is. His magic is gone completely. There’s nothing left of it. The memory of ever knowing it existed has been stripped from his mind. He thinks he was in a car accident that affected his memory.”
“And you believe the creature they resurrected is responsible?”
“Let’s just say a few months back I took a trip that was very illuminating, and I saw some pretty messed up shit that wants to hurt me. So yeah, I think it did and I don’t think it’s done.”
“I don’t know what else I can tell you. You were present when the spell to bring them back failed. You stopped it.”
“Well someone managed to bring back some creepy, faceless incarnation of death created by some madman centuries ago.”
“Wickham was the one obsessed with the history and origins of magic in the region. As you’ve no doubt learned, both sides of our feud come from Ireland.”
“Oh yeah, I got up close and personal with Aoife and Bearach … even saw how he nearly snuffed out light magic and took control over his coven by murdering his boss. I guess if this thing was created out of that bloodlust, it makes sense it would start taking the strongest dark magic it could find.”
His gaze flickered to the door and he kneaded his hands as much as the shackles on his wrists would allow. “To be honest, I thought the latest beating was provoked by some new inmates, but you are right that there are certain members with more influence and sway over the organization.”
“Did these new cellmates of yours happen to sport a particular brand?”
“Even if they did, I am stronger than flunkies. But I hadn’t considered they were trying to take me out.”
“Janty’s worried he’s next.”
“He was Wickham’s right hand.”
Interesting.
“If you’d succeeded back in March and brought back these druids, what did you expect to happen? That they’d somehow decide to listen to you, because they were so grateful to you for bringing them back to a world they know nothing about?”
“Something like that,” he sighed.
I leaned forward again. “I don’t get you, Taggart. You were one of us. You went into law enforcement, a part of you had to have wanted to help people at least in the beginning. Anarchists don’t generally join up with organized government entities. Or did you not have as much clout as you want people to believe?”
“I told you, I wanted freedom to use my abilities as I saw fit. If that happened to be stopping a drug dealer or something like that, so be it. We aren’t anarchists. We don’t want chaos. We want freedom to live and practice as we please. We don’t want arbitrary rules forced on us.”
“And look where that pursuit of freedom got you.”
He’d given me another angle with Janty to explore. That was all I was likely to get out of him.
“Enjoy your time in here, Taggart. Try not to die.”
I started toward the door when he reached out. His magic looped around my wrist, stopping my forward momentum. “This new prophecy. What does it say?”
I pivoted to face him. “Why do you care?”
“Just tell me. I answered your questions, the least you could do is answer one of mine.”
“That when dark magic is at its height and Death’s child reigns, the last of Harrow’s blood will flow forevermore or else all light magic is doomed. I’m paraphrasing the last bit, but you get the gist.”
His face fell. “There shouldn’t have been a way for you to survive what I did to you, not even with the best Healers in the world, and yet, you did. I see now why.”
“Because I’m a badass?” I offered with a smirk.
“Because the world wasn’t done with you yet. Guess times have changed.” His expression softened. “I’m almost sorry for what’s coming for you. You were young and inexperienced. Yet, you’ve proven yourself to be stronger than any of us ever gave you credit for.”
“People have a habit of underestimating me.”
“I hope you’re not one of those people. Because you do realize if you don’t fulfill this prophecy, not just the people you
love are going to be hurt. Everyone, everywhere is going to be in danger.”
I pressed one hand to my chest. “I didn’t know you cared.”
“It’s an unimaginable burden to place on one person. It seems magic has decided neither of us deserves freedom. Don’t forget that darkness is stronger at this time.”
“It’s hard to forget”, I retorted and knocked on the door for the guard to escort me out.
I left the visitation room behind me and I spotted a familiar face coming toward me down the hall. Kayla looked surprised to see me. Her dark purple pixie cut was a little longer these days, but her mostly black outfit remained the same. For a moment I wondered if she was stuck in that outfit permanently since she essentially became invisible thanks to her magic turning her into a Whisperer.
“Do I even want to know what you’re doing here?” Kayla asked, peering over my shoulder as the guard ushered Taggart back to his cell.
“A case. Desmond’s case,” I replied.
“We all miss him,” she said, looking downward. She’d been his eyes and ears when we’d first met. I’d almost forgotten she was processing his loss, too.
I gestured toward the visitation room behind me. “You here to see Kevin?”
“Yeah. He’s doing better these days. He asks about you sometimes.”
“Tell him I said hi and that I’ve been thinking of him,” I said and gave her a quick pat on the shoulder before heading to reclaim my badge, gun, and phone.
When I had just repositioned the holster and turned my phone back on I saw several missed calls from Tricia along with a voicemail.
I pressed the phone to my ear as I headed to the car. “Ezri, it’s Tricia. I know it’s early, sorry, but I needed you to know something. After you stopped by, I took another look at the bullet from Desmond’s case. I don’t know how I missed it before. You need to get to the lab, now.”
Twelve
I didn’t stop to figure out if she’d called Jacquie, too. I just got in the car and drove. The Medical Examiner’s office was slow, not surprising for the early morning hour, as I pulled into the parking lot and jogged inside. I found Tricia pacing back and forth in front of the equipment in the lab.
