by Amie Gibbons
“Ryder.” Grant tried to tug the bag from me after a minute and I held on.
“No, sir.”
The pretty-pretty fuzz was going away, taking what little edge I had over that damn gris-gris with it.
Grant let go of the bag and I dug my hands back in.
Nothing.
“Sir?” A tentative voice warbled.
“Yes?” Grant and Andy asked as one.
I turned over in Grant’s lap to look at Reed, whose eyes were bouncing between the two.
“I... I...”
“Today, Probie.” Andy smirked at him.
“We called the store, and ugh, there was some digging, but then she, the lady, um.”
“Probie!” Andy snapped.
“Sorry, sir! The va…vampire lady got us on the phone with the owner of that magic woo woo store in the mall Agent Grant told us to look into. The shop’s open all night. Owner’s there now.”
How did Carla know we were looking for that? Maybe she was one of the people Grant called?
Like she heard her name, Carla walked around the van and leaned her hip against it. “Ready?”
I pushed outta Grant’s lap, arms and legs shakin’ like a newborn colt’s, and I crawled up the side of the van to get to standing.
Grant stood and grabbed my waist, holding me against him.
Andy smirked. “Now that I smell.”
Carla snorted and I looked between them.
“I don’t get it,” I said.
Carla snorted again and shook her head.
We piled into the van, me and Carla up front with Grant driving and the guys in the back.
“Tell me about this place,” Grant said.
“It’s called The Blues. Basic magic stuff. Candles, incense, tarot cards, charms to ward off spirts. The owner, Jean Montgomery, is a witch. He can make spells, potions, the works.”
“I thought Quil said he had to get stuff from outta town before Sierra opened her place?” I said.
“He did,” Carla said. “All sales to vampires in our nest have to go through the queen’s Department of Magical Acquisitions. Montgomery sells anything to us? He has to report it to her. Just in case there’s anything dangerous.”
“You’re kidding,” I said.
She shook her head. “I wish. Sierra was warned about the queen when she came in so she’s fronting as a general new age shop selling fake doodads. She doesn’t report it, we don’t report it.”
“I don’t even understand why anyone would put up with that from their leaders,” I said.
“You serious? Ours pull that shit all the time,” Grant said.
Carla nodded. “Business licenses, taxes, requirements for professions, you name it, the government butts into it. Most of the vampires in our nests are young, they were raised in the new America, where regulations over everything is the norm. We think it’s why the queen has expanded our nest so rapidly. We have more than quadrupled in the last fifty years, so the new ones outnumber us old ones, and think this is perfectly normal.”
“Guess you don’t really notice it when you’re raised in it,” I said, biting my lower lip. “Kind of makes me wonder what else we just take for granted is normal since we’re used to it.”
###
We got to the mall pretty fast and Carla led us around to the back entrance of the bath store. It was a completely normal lookin’ loading area.
Carla walked right up to the door next to the giant pull down metal one and opened it.
“He leaves it unlocked for customers,” Carla said. “Figures no one will know it’s unlocked unless they’re in the know.”
“Not worried about break ins?” I asked as I walked in.
“Would you rob a magic store while it was open?” she asked. “You can pretty much guarantee the owner and probably a few customers can take you out in a few seconds.”
“Good point.”
Carla closed the door once all of us were in and the light in the hall turned on, revealing basic linoleum and bland walls in desperate need of a new layer of paint.
She opened the first door on the right and we entered the magic shop.
It looked just like it had in my vision, except the fluorescents overhead were brighter and there were other people here.
I looked around, studying the faces.
Took me a moment to realize I was searching for Collins amongst the shoppers.
Grant marched straight for the table besides the door with a guy behind it with a computer and a card reader.
Had to be the owner, Jean. He had watery brown eyes that matched the thick hair pulled back in one of those gross man-bun things and a thick beard.
Grant pulled out his badge and flashed it. “Agent Grant. Where can we talk?”
Jean looked around, mouth puckering up. “I’m the only one here. I can’t just leave my store unattended.”
Grant’s jaw tightened. I could tell he was resistin’ the urge to go straight to jackboot and kick the customers out.
“Hey,” I said, “can we put up a back in five sign and talk in the hall? We just have a few questions and we can leave a few guys to watch the store for you.”
Jean looked between me and Grant and he nodded.
Grant and I walked into the hall, leaving the others to wander the store and watch the customers.
Grant pulled out a picture of Truck. “Seen him tonight?”
He shook his head. “Never seen him before.”
“Have you sold a gris-gris to anyone recently?”
Jean squinted at me. “I’ve sold a ton recently, most to… locals I know. But one was to…”
“Was to?” Grant snapped.
“Ohhhhh,” I said. “I get it. You’ve been selling a ton to the local vamps, but you sold one recently to a human. Am I right?” I pointed at him. “I’m right!”
Jean looked between me and Carla. “Since when does the FBI know about vampires?”
Since this FBI agent is the reason the vamps are stockpiling gris-gris.
“Who is the human you sold the gris-gris to? Do you have a credit card receipt?” Grant asked.
“No, she paid cash, but I remember her. She was hot.” He squinted at me. “But something tells me you already know what she looks like.”
Jean lifted his hand, pressin’ it against the air a few inches in front of me.
“Your aura…,” he said, shaking his head. “What are you?”
I crossed my arms. “Leo. What are you?”
He grinned. “Witch. Taurus if you’re asking, though.”
“Me too,” I said. “I just say the Leo thing cuz…” Grant shot me a look and I smiled so tight it felt like my jaws were gonna snap. “Inside joke involving my mama. Not important.”
He nodded, bringing both hands up to rest on the air like a mime and stared at me, squinting.
My smile tightened.
Why wasn’t Grant snapping at him to get him back to us questioning him?
“What do you see?” I asked.
He shook his head, licking his lips. A nervous gesture as opposed to a sexual one as far as I could tell.
“You,” he started slowly, “have strange colors. Everyone has colors to their aura. Magic ones are different colors for the type of magic. Like humans are blues, shifters have greens in there, vampires red, witches purple, voodoo practitioners yellows, and mentally gifted individuals have oranges. You have the blues and this bright orange, but there are swirls of gold and black. I’ve seen silver dots before, and I’ve heard of gold swirls, I still can’t place either of those, but black’s a new one.”
“I’m psychic, but I’m guessin’ that’s the orange,” I said. “I don’t know what the gold and black are.”
Why did that freak me out more than the guy reading the air in front of me?
He turned so his hands were hovering near Grant’s chest. “Ah! Silver dots! So what are you? I’ve seen it four times now and can not figure out what those are. It’s driving me nuts.”
“Nunya,” Grant said.
Not that he knew anyways, as far as I knew, but hey.
“Describe the woman,” Grant said.
Jean scowled but rattled off her features.
“Sounds like the woman, sir,” I said.
“How do we counter a gris-gris like that?” Grant asked.
Jean got that lemon look again.
“Jean,” I said. “Can I call you Jean?” He nodded. “We’re not the bust down the door, be assholes cuz we have power feds, okay? We’re tryin’ to catch a serial killer. Can you please help us?”
His expression softened and he nodded.
“It’s not an exact science,” he said. “I can’t just whip up ingredients that will cancel out the ones in the gris-gris.” He set his mouth in a thin line. “I can try. There’s a kind of counter gris-gris. It’s more to pump up psychic powers than to really block the gris-gris’ effects, but it could help. I’m warning ya, it’s got some nasty side effects.”
“Such as?” Grant asked before I could.
“It can make you sick,” Jean said.
“I’ve been drinking to help boost it,” I said. “Sicker than that?”
He nodded. “This will help more. Boost it without making you fuzzy like alcohol. But, also might make you sick like alcohol. It could be nothing to mild nausea to full on Linda Blair. You could get headaches and a fever, and after it wears off, you’ll be pretty much mind-blind for a day or so.”
Oh perfect.
“And you can’t guarantee it’ll work?” Grant asked.
“No.”
“Question,” I said. “Is this psychic booster the only way to even possibly counter it?” He nodded. “Then I’ll take it.”
“Ryder,” Grant said.
“I know, General.” I met his eyes. “It’s a risk, but all the alcohol and incense in the world aren’t going to help us catch Truck. He’ll probably be caught by the thousands of agents and police officers on the streets, but they can’t tell if he changed cars, if he dyed his hair, what he’s wearing, or whatever. I can. I can do this. I’ve been sick before, and even if it’s the worst day of my life, it’ll be worth it.”
He gave a slow, steady nod.
Jean nodded and led us back into the shop. “I can get it going at my desk.”
The others met us near the desk as Jean sat back down.
Jean did a doubletake at Carla and squinted at her.
His head snapped back and he cleared his throat, eyes wide.
Guess he figured out we didn’t just know about vampires.
“How much?” Grant asked.
Jean told us.
“Damn!” Andy said. “How do I get in this business, Mr. Montgomery?”
“You have to be born with the natural ability. And please, call me Jean.” He smiled at Andy, narrowing his eyes again. “Ahhh. A shifter. You shouldn’t be around the vampire.”
“Yeah. I got that memo,” Andy said, preening. “Apparently I’m irresistible.”
“All humans with extra gifts are considered more desirable.” Jean’s eyes darted between Andy and me. “Both of you should be careful.”
He focused on me. “Unless it’s too late. I see connections to the nest, but it’s more than that. It’s emotional.”
I crossed my arms.
That really was none of his business.
He shook his head before turning his attention back to Grant. “I’ll get to work right now and have it for you in about six hours.”
“Six hours!” At least four voices chorused.
I looked behind us.
The half a dozen people in the store all were staring at our little group.
Subtle, thy name is not the FBI.
“You have any idea how long these things take? The only reason it’s not three days is because I already have a few parts made for when I need them. Six hours is the best I can do.”
“Do it,” Grant said. “And you have the thanks of the FBI.”
“I love thanks.” Jean said with a wink at me. “Money’s better.”
“You’ll get your money when we get the booster.”
We headed out. Carla had to get home, which meant we had to go back to the scene for her car.
“Ryder first,” Grant said after she said that as we loaded into the van.
“Sir?” I asked, jumping up in the back since Jet asked for the front.
“You’ve been up all night, exhausting yourself, and you’re going to have to get back to it when that hocus-pocus is done,” Grant said. “You’re going to get some rest. I’ll pick you up in six hours.”
I wasn’t about to argue. That meant I had time to shower and get some desperately needed zees.
They dropped me off in front of my townhouse and Grant and Jet walked me to my door.
“Sir, you guys should get some sleep too,” I said.
He nodded. “We are. Kowalski’s staying here tonight. I will send a fresh agent to stand watch while you two sleep.”
“Sir?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Cora’s at the office.”
“So you have to be.” I nodded.
He nodded back and waited until me and Jet were inside to walk away.
“Guest room,” I said, pointing upstairs.
He shook his head. “I’m under strict orders to keep you in sight. Only time I’m allowed to leave your side is when you’re in the bathroom. Pretty sure I’m not allowed to pee until our night guard comes.”
I snorted. “We can drag the guest mattress into my bedroom.”
We pulled it off the bed and into my room, droppin’ it on the floor next to my bed, and put the guest sheets on it and a spare quilt.
I wouldn’t have cared if Jet shared my bed with me. It was big enough for two after all. But he got all squinty and shifty last time the guys slept at my house (ghost sitch, don’t ask) about how it’d be inappropriate.
I hopped in the shower for a quick rinse and brushed my teeth.
My mind churned over Truck.
I’m psychic. I should’ve been able to find him.
I pulled out my phone, I had to call Quil. He would’ve called if he found Carvi, but what if something had happened? What if he found Carvi, but he wasn’t able to subdue him? What if Carvi hurt him?
“Hello?”
“Hey.” A grin broke out on my face at his voice. It made my stomach untie a bit, when I didn’t even realize it was knotted up until then. “Just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”
“I’m fine, sweets. You?”
“Haven’t found him yet. We’ve got a witch from that shop up in Opry Mills Mall working on a counter spell to the gris-gris. And we’re getting sleep. Jet’s here just in case Truck tries something.”
Quil sighed. “I was about to ask if I needed to send someone over. I don’t like not being there if there’s any chance he’s fixated on you.”
“We also have another agent who hasn’t been up all night coming to stand guard so both of us can get some sleep.”
“Good. And at least Jean’s helping you. You’ll find him.”
“Yeah.” I nodded before remembering he couldn’t exactly see me. “Any luck with yours?”
“Checked the first few hotels. No one of Carvi’s description, and he’s not easy to miss.”
I’d seen him in visions, it’d definitely be difficult to miss someone that good looking.
“He could be in disguise,” I said.
Silence.
“Quil?” I asked.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “Just thinking. The sun’s about to come up and it always makes me sleepy.”
“Yeah, I’m having that problem too.” I put him on speaker and grabbed cute pink pjs with penguins on them from the shelf. I normally slept naked, but talk about inappropriate. “You going to bed?”
“A most emphatic yes. Want to join me?”
I had to smile as I tugged on my bottoms. “I’d love to, but I have to get some sleep.”
“Oh fine
. Leave me to my solitude.” He sounded so cute I had to chuckle.
“You could come here,” I said.
“Not this close to sunrise.” He paused. “Unless I called someone to take me. Yeah, don’t wait up, but I’ll be there soon and let myself in.”
“How?” I asked.
It’s not like I gave him a key.
He chuckled. “I have my ways. See you soon. Ciao, sweets.”
“Ciao.”
I hung up and walked out of the bathroom.
“Quil’s coming over,” I said. “Don’t worry, we’ll behave. And I have a feelin’ I’m gonna be out in like a minute.”
Silence.
“Jet?” I asked, walking around my bed to look at the mattress.
Jet lay on his back, mouth open, an arm stretched out.
And he was snoring.
I snorted, whispering, “Some guard you are. Sweet dreams, Jet.”
I turned for the light and paused.
Since when would Jet Kowalski ever let himself fall asleep on the job? It wouldn’t matter if he was up for one night or three straight. He’d be on watch until the other agent showed up to relieve him.
I turned.
Cloth slammed over my face before I could open my mouth.
The thick, clogging stench of chemicals filled me and I felt my brain falling away.
One thought swirled down the drain as the darkness swallowed me whole.
I should’ve seen that comin’.
Chapter fourteen
“No.” Grant’s voice drifted to me in the darkness, pushing back the night. “I should have been there.”
A loud crash and a grunt helped sharpen the world, bringing outlines from the dark.
“How did he get in?” a male voice that certainly didn’t belong there asked.
What was my daddy doin’ here?
“Magic,” another said. Quil?
The world came on slowly, bit by bit, like someone was drawing it.
A couch came into view.
Took me a second to realize it was mine.
Where was Pyro? He almost always slept on the couch.
Mama and Daddy were on the couch, Mama bent with her face in her hands and Daddy sitting ramrod straight, face hard. Dan sat on the recliner next to it, leaning forward with his hands clenched.
The picture expanded to my full living room and Grant and Quil were standing, Quil on the other side of the couch and Grant by the entertainment center, shaking out his hand.
