by SM Reine
Grudgingly, Stonecrow squirmed onto her side, rolling her hip to offer her back pocket to me. No, not her pocket—it was empty, flat and smooth against her butt. “Underwear. Left side.” She whispered so quietly I could barely hear her.
Whoa. Okay.
I tried not to touch her too much as I wiggled a plastic bag out from under the elastic band of her underwear. Black lace. Damn. She’d tucked the bag inside the folded-over hem, concealing a couple grams of a gray powder that looked a lot like what she had used to fuck up my face.
“I thought you were all out,” I hissed.
She sat back. “I lied.”
Joey glanced at me over his shoulder, still talking on the phone, and I palmed the baggie.
Rubbing my thumb on the plastic, I tried to guess what was inside. Definitely some salt. Looked like a little grave dirt—I used it in many of my poultices, so I was pretty sure about that one. Maybe some nettle, too. It was only lightly enchanted.
It would have to be enough.
“Where are you taking us?” I asked, louder than before, making sure I’d be heard over the engine.
“I’m going to do it now,” Eduardo said. He wasn’t speaking to me.
“Not until we’re out of town,” Joey said. “Follow the plan.”
The plan. Between our eastward travels and their mutterings, I was not feeling good about this “plan.”
I knew the Union had more outposts than the OPA did. We were mostly a bureaucratic affair—the brain to the Union’s body. They had fingers in everything, everywhere. For all I knew, they had a hidden base out this way and we were being sent there. But it wasn’t a base I knew.
If they were taking me somewhere that I didn’t have high enough clearance to see, then chances were good I wasn’t meant to come back.
Eduardo and Joey were focused away from us again. I opened the bag and carefully poured the gray dust in a tiny circle on the seat between Stonecrow and me. Her eyes widened, anger flashing over her face. She thought I was wasting it. In fact, I was casting the smallest fucking circle of power ever. Wondered if I might break a world record.
I poked the dust toward the north, south, east, west. The highway was straight as far as I could see—had to finish casting the spell before we hit a turn and messed up the orientation.
Pouring the last of the dust in the center, I snapped my fingers and closed the circle.
The magical juice inside was small enough that I didn’t even sneeze. It barely even tickled.
“With earth and stone, I call strength,” I whispered under my breath, pushing all of my meager energy into the circle, building its force with my own spirit. “With salt and…uh…”
“Nettle,” Stonecrow said.
My guess had been right. Nice. “With salt and nettle, I call strength. With the desert around us, I call strength.” Yeah, I know, it was stupid, but I’m not a poet. I don’t get fancy with my words.
But it was enough. I could see faint, coppery sparks of magic igniting within the powder.
Strength spells were one of my only specialties. Like the poultices I kept by the bed to juice up my muscles. Even a big guy can use a small edge when all of his foes are supernatural. I’d been making them daily, like protein shakes, for years. And that was probably the only reason my tiny, miserable circle of power was actually working, infusing the dust in the center with energy.
What else could I use against Eduardo and Joey? I needed something.
My mind touched on Domingo. The kind of shit he used to pull in high school while gambling. Luck spells.
“With the wind and sun, grant me luck,” I added, and I blew gently on the dust, focusing every ounce of my concentration on my brother.
Gold sparks. Copper sparks.
Pretty pathetic magic right there.
And I was out of time. There was a bend in the road coming up, but Eduardo was signaling and slowing the car, suggesting that our trip was over.
There were no buildings outside, no secret Union base. Just empty desert between a few isolated hills.
Shit.
I broke the tiny circle and pinched the gram of dust that I had infused with strength and luck. It burned against my fingers, but there were no blisters. I’d repurposed the magic for a more positive use, and I could only pray that my shitty spell would work. I still couldn’t help but flinch as I sprinkled it on my tongue.
I sneezed.
The SUV stopped with a jerk. Joey jumped out, flung my door open.
“Get out,” he said, aiming a gun at my head.
“This isn’t Union procedure.” I was delaying, scooping the rest of the powder into my hand. The properties of the stuff I’d used to make the circle hadn’t changed, and it still burned. I could feel my palm rippling with new boils. I clenched my fist around it.
I eased away from Stonecrow as casually as I could. Just my hands in a zip tie and my life in tatters, nothing to see here. She struggled when Eduardo grabbed her, but they were as well trained as I was and much better prepared. I just had to hope Stonecrow’s distraction could give me a few seconds.
Outside it was even brighter and hotter than it had been in the city. I was sweating when they pulled me out. I stumbled and fell onto my knees.
Joey pulled me to my feet again and dragged me when I didn’t get up fast enough. He was six inches shorter than me and twice as strong. But I could feel the powder on my tongue tingling, and the strength in my muscles was growing quickly with a familiar buzz.
My shitty spell had worked. Better still, it had worked well. My limbs felt limber and strong. My head was light. Everything fell into hyper-focus—probably the luck part of the spell.
It felt great. Good enough that I didn’t even panic when I noticed the manmade ditch that had been carved into the side of the road just off the shoulder.
The kopis kicked me behind the knees, making me fall on the edge. And then I felt a gun in the back of my head.
It was a by-the-book roadside execution. They would blow our brains out, leave us out of sight of the few people who even come out this way for off-roading, let the coyotes pick our bleached bones.
Definitely not Union procedure.
But I didn’t know that for a fact—maybe this was what the Union did when they black bagged people. Maybe everyone I’d ever arrested had ended up in a ditch in the desert.
Or maybe these fuckers were working for the asshole who had framed me for murder.
Either way, I wasn’t going down. My heart was pounding and I was smiling.
“Say a prayer,” Joey said, pushing the barrel hard into the back of my neck.
This should have been so much scarier than it was.
Lifting my bound, burning hands into a prayer position, I began to speak. “Hail Mary, full of grace, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, something, something, Heaven…and fuck you, asshole. Amen.”
I twisted and flung the remaining dust into Joey’s face.
A gunshot exploded next to my left ear.
So much for hearing.
His mouth opened in a roar that I couldn’t hear. He fell, dropping the gun, clawing at his face. His skin was rippling and twisting. Watching the boils rise was almost worse than feeling it happen.
Almost.
Eduardo dropped his grip on Stonecrow’s arm and aimed his gun at me. She was gone in an instant, rocketing toward the SUV with its open doors.
Good. One less thing to worry about.
I lunged to my feet and drove my shoulder into Eduardo’s gut, knocking the breath out of him. I managed to throw his ass to the ground. Jerked the gun out of his hand. My fingers were too swollen from the dust to grip it properly. I fumbled, dropping it.
Joey and his Elephant Man features were coming after me again. I kicked sand into his face—into those open, oozing wounds. He screamed.
Eduardo was getting up again. I swung my tethered fists at him and struck. He grunted, tried to punch me, and missed. He barely managed to claw at my face as he
fell. My own boils erupted, pouring pus down my jaw.
Both of them regained their footing and jumped on me at the same time. We scuffled, and I didn’t know who was yelling and which guy was elbowing me. Feet and fists slammed into me. I curled up, protected my head. Managed to kick Joey to the ground, and he stayed down. But Eduardo didn’t.
When I glanced through my arms, he was drawing a gun from his jacket. He aimed it at my forehead.
All the supernatural ways I could’ve gone out in this world, and a bullet between the eyes was going to finish me.
How boring.
The gunshot rang in my ears.
But I wasn’t in pain.
I wasn’t dead, either.
It took me a second to sit up and figure what had happened. Eduardo was on the ground next to me, also still alive, but out cold. Stonecrow was holding a bloody rock in one fist, looking shocked that she had actually managed to bash it into his skull hard enough to do damage.
I’d thought Stonecrow had run for it and left me behind, but she had saved me.
I managed a grin for her.
Joey was getting up behind her, preparing to sneak up while she was distracted. I got to my feet and kicked him a few times in the gut, knocking him back down to the dirt. And then I kicked him in the face. Pustules exploded all over the desert.
“Thanks,” Stonecrow said, pushing a lock of hair out of her face with the back of her wrist. She left a smear of blood and dust on her temple.
I kicked Joey again, just because.
“You’re welcome,” I said.
+ + +
There were more zip ties in the SUV, so once Stonecrow and I had cut free of our restraints, I used them on Eduardo and Joey. They were both awake when I finished. Eduardo seemed like he was having a hard time staying awake, head lolling—he might have had a concussion, but I didn’t really care. Joey was much more conscious and much uglier.
I crouched in front of them. The sun was at their back because I was nice like that. Evening was coming fast. They might not even get sunburned before it got dark again.
“So how was this supposed to end?” I asked. “Was it secret Union procedure, or something personal?”
Instead of answering, Joey said, “Are you fucking stupid?”
Well, yeah, that was a possibility. But I wasn’t the one tied up in a ditch. I couldn’t be that stupid.
Eduardo worked his mouth around, gathering saliva on his tongue, then spat on the ground at my feet.
Nice.
Stonecrow jiggled my shoulder before I could ask more questions. I brushed her off, but she did it again. “What?”
“Shouldn’t we be leaving?” She was looking at the abandoned SUV.
She had a point. All of the OPA’s cars had GPS trackers in them. Just because we were alone for the moment didn’t mean that we’d be alone for long. “Works for me.” I patted my pockets and made sure my notebooks were where I’d put them. I’d grabbed all of my stuff out of the SUV while looking for the zip ties, and the desert would’ve been a bad place to accidentally drop them. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You can’t just leave us here!” Joey cried as we walked toward the car.
I didn’t tell him we could. Actions spoke louder than words.
Anyway, it wouldn’t be long before the Union picked them up.
Unfortunately.
I yanked the cable to the GPS tracker under the car before taking off again.
Once we were back on the highway, I pulled the phone out of my pocket and tossed it into Stonecrow’s lap. “I’ll read you a number, and I want you text this location to the number.”
“What location? I’ve got no clue where the hell we are.”
I parked the car by the side of the road. “Here, I’ll do it.”
She didn’t let me pull the phone from her hands.
I rubbed my forehead then winced. I was still covered in blisters. The sun had only made it worse. “You can pull our coordinates up on the app on the phone. Give it to me.”
She scowled but obeyed. I grabbed our coordinates from the phone and texted them to Suzy with a short message: “Eduardo and Joey tried to kill me. Get to them first and find out why.” I waited for the message to go through, then handed the phone back to Stonecrow.
“We should get rid of that,” I said. “It has a GPS tracker, too. I’ll let you decide how to trash it.”
Stonecrow stepped out of the car and ducked. When she got back in and closed the door with a solid thump, I raised an eyebrow in her direction. She said, “Under the tire.” The corner of her mouth twitched as she surveyed me. “You look like shit.”
I angled the rearview mirror. Yep, still hamburger-faced. “Wonder why that is.”
“I can fix it,” Stonecrow said. “I just need some herbs.”
Her tone wasn’t exactly friendly, but she didn’t sound pissed at me now. It was a start. And if she could heal my face? Better and better.
The phone crunched when I pulled away.
We rode in silence, Stonecrow only moving to turn on the air conditioning. The quiet lasted on the road back to town for about five minutes or so when she said, “So…Cèsar, right? You didn’t kill the agents back there. Because you work with them?”
“I don’t know if they deserve killing. And that’s not something I do, anyway. But yeah, I kinda work with them—or at least I used to. I’m currently taking what you might call an unscheduled vacation from the Office of Preternatural Affairs.”
“Why?”
No nice way to say it. “Because I’ve been accused of murder.”
Stonecrow leaned toward her window a few inches.
“Oh.”
“I didn’t do it,” I said. “That’s why I need your help. I need you to talk to the victim and find out who did kill her. It’s the only way I can clear my name.”
She let out a shaky breath. “Okay. Tell me what happened. Tell me about her.” I gave her the short version of Erin’s story. It wasn’t much shorter than the long version. When I finished, Stonecrow was frowning more than ever. “So you…you didn’t kill this waitress?”
Could she have tried to sound a little less skeptical?
“No. I didn’t.”
“And you want me to talk to her.”
It was like we were talking in circles. “If you can do what you say you can.”
“I can,” Stonecrow said, tapping her finger thoughtfully against her chin. “I just need to get close to her remains, preferably within touching distance. You think you can pull that off with people gunning for your head? Do you think you even want to? It’d be much safer to run.”
“I’ve gotten this far. I can’t stop now.”
She sighed. “Okay. Let’s go talk with Erin.”
12
We made a stop at an herb shop then grabbed dinner at a fast food joint as the sun sank to the horizon. Dinner and magical supplies were paid for by Joey, who turned out to have a fat wallet. I left the credit cards and his fake FBI identification in the glove box. The cash was ours.
I didn’t risk going inside the McDonald’s to order. We went through the drive-through and ate behind the security of tinted windows in the parking lot. Stonecrow looked extremely disinterested in my burgers, but she seemed okay with her chicken wrap, and she guzzled her soda in about five seconds flat.
“So what’s your story?” I asked when I was halfway through my meal, gesturing at her. “What does the OPA want you for?”
“They don’t tell you that in your files?”
“Your file says that you’ve had three families complain that you’re a scam artist. But every story’s got two sides, right?”
“Three complaints.” She snorted. “The dead don’t lie, Cèsar. That’s why people complain. They don’t like what the dead have to say to them. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Stonecrow wiped her fingers with one of the paper napkins. She looked around for a place to throw it out and caught sight of her dirty face in th
e mirror. We were both all dusty from the brawl in the desert. She used other napkins to wipe off her face.
“Necrocognition is a rare talent.”
“Is it?” Stonecrow asked. I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not.
“Where’d you learn to do it? Are you part of some kind of…I dunno, a tribe or something?” I asked. Her getup at Shady Groves had looked like the fifties Hollywood idea of a Native American wisewoman, but I had a hard time believing that that anyone who wore feathered headdresses and animal skins to a cemetery could be legit.
Yet she sat up straighter, tossed her hair. Her whole demeanor shifted. It was like she pulled on a disguise as I watched. “Yes, my tribe taught me. I am a native princess. I was trained by the best shamans in all of the nations,” she said, voice resonant with that accent she’d had before. “I was going to stay on our reservation, but the spirits called me to the world beyond. It is my destiny to speak the truths of the dead even when people aren’t prepared to hear it.”
“That so?”
“You saw how those Union men behaved when they arrested me—what they were prepared to do to silence the voices of the dead.” She sounded both imperious and annoyed. I guess my incredulity was showing.
“I have a hard time believing the Union would try to kill you if you can do what you claim. You’re too valuable. Hell, I bet the OPA would love to hire you.”
“You can deny it all you want, but it’s obvious that those men didn’t intend for you and I to come back from the desert.”
That much, I couldn’t deny. I just didn’t know why.
She tossed her trash in the backseat and grabbed the plastic bag from between her feet. I’d let her do all the buying in the herb shop and kept my aching face inside the SUV, so I had no idea what she’d gotten.
“So how does your necrocognition work? Is it an evocation thing?”
She glanced at me before opening a baggie and pouring something green and grainy into her empty soda cup. “What? What’s evocation?”
For the first time since we’d started chatting, I believed the disbelief in her voice. It was more genuine than her bullshit “princess of the tribes” speech. “So you’re not summoning demons in order to talk to the dead. Doing blood rituals and shit. Human sacrifice.”
