by Domino Finn
The witch waved her hand. Shen slid along the floor to her. She planted her shoulder under his and helped him up. She made it look ridiculously easy. I assumed her spellcraft was assisting. She locked eyes with me once more and nodded. I returned the nod and undid my arm bars. Darcy walked Shen from the room to join her team.
When the last shackle fell to the floor, I was already across the room scooping my items from the shelf. I dropped my shotgun into the shadow. I refastened my belt pouch. I considered following everybody out the door, but I looked up and had a better idea.
The closet was one of several subrooms, a collection of divider walls with doors. The open ceiling above gave me an alternate escape. I used the metal shelves as a ladder and climbed to the top. It rewarded me a nice vantage of the carnage.
The Society was formidable, but I counted five spectral wolves. The beings hunted like their animal counterparts, using pack tactics and focusing on the weaker enemies. Another man in black was dead and another was wounded.
Darcy and Simon held off the wolves with their powerful magic. Margo worked her hands, but I couldn't see what kind of spellcraft she channeled. And with Shen in the mix, I couldn't trust my eyes out there anymore.
Despite the sudden ambush, the animists were driving the astral attack back. Darcy flung the garage door open. Shen masked his team's location. Already they were forming a line to maneuver the beasts outside.
The damned Vucari. They didn't even show up to their own appointment. They were counting on cult magic and a death squad of magical beasts to handle their business. That meant there was no one here to interrogate. To ask about Fran. Kasper had been right. This had all been a trap.
Then again, I'd figured as much. This was a fight I didn't need to join.
I scurried over the top of the shelf to the back wall, where high windows lined the ceiling. They were angled open to let the heat out. It wasn't big enough for a person to squeeze through, but without my chains I was once again free to phase. I leapt at the window, became shadow, and landed twelve feet below in the alley outside.
It was a bit of a tumble, but by that point I was used to that kind of thing. What mattered was Cisco Suarez was free again.
And he was hella pissed too.
Chapter 35
The taxi slowed as it rounded a parked police car. Evan's entire block was lined with them, each silently strobing red and blue. The driver dropped me off a few houses away. I paid while eyeing the crowd of uniforms milling in Evan's yard.
Holy hell. This was what it looked like when one of the City of Miami's own got victimized.
The taxi pulled away without me. I swallowed nervously. This wasn't exactly my cup of tea. I was an outlaw and this house was crawling with badges. Whether or not I had an active warrant, I had to go in there. Fran was in danger. Nothing could back me down.
I stepped through their ranks, keeping my head down, hoping nobody noticed the guy in the bloody tank top.
Yeah, right.
All eyes were on Cisco Suarez. I stood out like a virus pushing through white blood cells, each ready to strike in unison if alerted.
"What's your business here?" asked the man at the door.
"Just a friend," I answered. I stepped lightly onto the porch.
He shoved me back down. Not violently, but assertively. "No visitors tonight."
I shook my head. "I don't have time for this. I need to talk to Evan and Emily now. This is private property and you can't stop me."
"I can't what?" asked the officer in challenge.
"Hold up," came a voice to our side. Just my luck. Of all the cops in all the world, it was the skinhead rookie Shyla knocked around a couple hours earlier. He converged on us quickly with his hand on his gun belt.
I watched him passively. Calmly. Not giving him a reason to pull his weapon. He still had his uniform on. I figured he'd be decked up in a hospital suite, but maybe his injuries weren't that bad. For all I knew he was clocked out and showing support for Evan. I took a slow breath while he looked me over. He was wondering what to do. I was wondering how to get outta here without hurting him.
"You know the lieutenant?" asked the rookie.
"Since elementary school," I said carefully.
He worked his brow. I wondered if he'd told anybody what he'd seen on Miami Avenue. Hard to fit in as the new guy when you start seeing demons.
The rookie slapped the doorman on the shoulder. "This guy's okay," he said.
The other officer narrowed his eyes and wanted to say something. Laziness won out and he shrugged instead. "It's your ass," he told the rookie, and then proceeded to pretend I wasn't there. No apology or anything, but he wasn't in my way anymore. I gave the rookie a silent nod and stepped inside.
There was a lot of blue in the house. Cops leaning against walls and sitting on extra chairs. This wasn't a crime scene so much as a hub for emotional support. Close friends. Some of these guys didn't have uniforms on, but I could tell they were cops by the way they stood and spoke. No doubt they'd come over as soon as they heard the news. Beside the kitchen, a crowd huddled around Evan.
"Thank God!" cried Milena as she bore down on me. She clasped me tightly. "I don't know what I'm doing here. I feel like a fiftieth wheel."
I tried to smile. "I see you've finally got that expression down." She pulled away, eager for a serious answer. "It's important that you're here," I told her. "We're all facing the same threat."
"Facing?" she asked. "Cisco, I killed someone!"
"Shh!" I pulled her away from the ears of Miami's finest. Milena didn't seem to care.
"He wasn't even the right one," she said. "I killed the wrong guy. And now look what happened."
"Don't do this to yourself, Milena. Listen to me. Darko was a piece of shit. He would've done the same thing Petrovic did. He wasn't even human, so don't beat yourself up about it."
She swallowed, dejected. "He sure looked human enough."
"Maybe he was once. Like a vampire or a zombie. But he wasn't human anymore." I waited until she digested that and met my eyes. "He was a monster, Milena. And Petrovic taking Fran had nothing to do with Darko."
She just shrugged. It didn't matter.
I shook my head and surveyed the room. "Where's Emily?"
Milena led me by the hand. We went upstairs, where it was quieter. This was the private space. The family space. Emily sat on her bed in a dim room. Her eyes softened as Milena returned, like she was welcome company. I guess, given the circumstances, they'd dropped their defenses against each other.
When Emily saw me, I could tell she was conflicted. Would she lean on me or knock me over? She stood abruptly. "They took her, Cisco."
"I know," I said. I hugged her tight. She didn't push away. "Tell me what happened."
"It was so quick," she started, speaking with a strange emotional detachment. "Evan and I were downstairs watching a movie and Fran screamed. Evan went to check on her. I saw a man in the backyard running away. I panicked. I figured we had a stalker or something and Fran got scared. I ran up after Evan. But she was already gone." Emily dropped her head. "I should have gone after that intruder. We did, afterwards. But it was too late. There was nothing, Cisco... There was nothing..."
I held her and said, "We'll get her back." I knew it in my bones to be true. I needed her to know it too.
Emily stood straight and wiped her face. "I tried to track her," she offered, showing me a crystal ball on the bed.
"You can scry?"
"Not technically, but light magic has illuminative properties."
I peeked into the ball but just saw my big dumb upside-down reflection. She snatched it from me.
"You shouldn't touch that."
I brushed the comment away. "So what are you saying? You should be able to find Fran in there?"
She sat on the bed again. "Yes. The people close to me, the ones that share my living space and see me every day—you could say I'm attuned to them."
"Evan and Fran."
"And what do you see?"
"That's just it. I— I'm not like you, Cisco. Or my sister either. I'm not brave. I didn't know what to do in the face of it all. I'd give my life for Fran but when the time came, I just panicked."
"Don't say that. This was a coordinated strike."
She didn't want to hear it so she moved on. "Evan contacted the police and ran around outside. By the time I found some time alone to consult the crystal, there was nothing left to see."
The room fell silent. It was a heavy thing. Suffocating. I was afraid to speak, but I had to know.
"Does that mean—"
"I should still see her," stressed Emily. "If she was..."
I released a heavy breath. "Okay, so that means they're blocking her somehow. Jamming the Intrinsics. That's not so bad."
We all pretended to be comforted.
"Tell him what they left," urged Milena.
"Of course." Emily pointed to the dresser. To a calling card with the same plaid backing.
I flipped it over. Instead of a Proto-Slavic character, a skull was pictured on the face.
"It's not active," said Emily. "Milena told me about your other card, that it was meant to contact them." She swallowed. "This one isn't enchanted. It's just a message. A taunt. I think they're gonna kill her, Cisco."
I shook my head. "No way." I took the card to a dark corner of the room and let the shadow seep into my irises. I didn't see a glow. I didn't see anything. I wasn't a scribe like Kasper but, as far as I could tell, this was just a piece of thick paper stock.
"But you can use the other card," suggested Milena. "Right?"
"I activated it already," I said. "It was worthless. A trap, like we thought."
Emily covered her face again. "Then we have nothing."
"No. I know who these people are. And I know what they want." I placed the card on the bed. "That skull is pre-printed, but the eyes are filled in with a red marker. Glowing red eyes. It's the Spaniard."
Milena flashed recognition. "They want the Horn."
"Bingo. That's what they've always wanted, from the beginning. That's why we met in the first place, Emily."
The gears in Emily's head starting turning. I could see the scenarios playing out across her face. The anticipation of getting Fran back. "You have the Horn," she whispered, excitement tingeing her voice. "You have the Horn." She sprang from the bed. "You have to give it to them!"
I steadied her shoulders and closed my eyes. My mouth twitched. "I would, Em. In a heartbeat. But I don't have it right now."
When I looked again, the hope in her expression had cracked like an antiquated mask. Like it hadn't been there for hundreds of years. Panic shone beneath.
The bedroom door opened slowly. Evan Cross blinked in disbelief.
"Of all the people to show their face here," he said, voice moribund. "I didn't think you had the balls, Cisco."
I sighed in frustration. That was the bell for Round Two.
Chapter 36
Evan stomped toward me, but he wasn't looking for a fight. He stopped sharp. Frowned at his wife. My friend was worn out. Worry lines marred his face, aged in just a few short hours. In the absence of anything else productive to do, his hands shot to the sky in futility.
"I told you," he said. "I told you. Was it too much to ask, Cisco?"
I took a breath. "Evan..."
"Was it too much to ask to lie low? To not piss off drug dealers?" He raised his voice and it cracked. "To not get Fran abducted?"
I bit down hard. Evan and Emily were friends. I hated seeing them like this. But this wasn't a situation I could've walked away from. As much as I liked blaming myself, I wasn't convinced this was my fault. Maybe I couldn't accept that it was.
"I didn't do this, Evan."
He laughed my objection away. "Don't tell me that. You're the only one perpetrating violence in the streets. You're the only one going outside the law and pressing the cartel."
My eyes met his. "I'm not the one who brought Connor Hatch into the mix. Emily did," I yelled.
I froze, realizing I hadn't meant to accuse her. I mean, it was true, but I wasn't heartless. We didn't need to be throwing around blame right now. But maybe it was the truth that needed to be said. If everybody else could be an emotional wreck once in a while, why couldn't I? I had feelings. I'd been wronged. So I bit back my apology and waited.
But then I lightened my tone. "Look, we all know the history of the Covey here. Kita got Emily involved, in over her head, before I ever met her. Connor Hatch was pulling those strings before Fran was ever conceived. Emily, Fran—they were always gonna be leverage to him."
Evan crossed his arms and hardened his features. He knew I wasn't wrong. For her part, Emily didn't object. No doubt she'd been telling herself worse than anything I could say anyway. Connor's overarching plans may have screwed up our relationships forever, but I wasn't gonna let him mess up my daughter's life.
"He's right, Evan," said Emily. "And it's worse than that." She dropped her head in shame. "Fran's conception was by Connor's order."
My face twisted just as Evan's did. "What?" we both said.
"It was always that way with Connor. Dividing us against our parents. Orphaning us so we only had him to turn to. Classic psychological manipulation. No doubt he had plans for Fran as well."
I could barely stomach that. The jinn had run the Covey like a cult. Taking advantage of adult animists was one thing, but starting on children?
"Connor won't stop," she said unequivocally. "We need to deal with him. For the sake of our family." She shook her head. "It's all my fault."
"That's not the point now," I said. "You guys, you're my family. All of you. You're all I have left."
Evan turned away. I still couldn't get a read on Emily, but at least Milena smiled.
"We've all been through the shit," I told them. "We've all been forced into lives we hadn't planned. But we're here now. We're together. We can work together."
My best friend met my eyes. I could see the struggle within him. The conflicting loyalties, the attempt to resolve our hijacked pasts. When he teared up, it was evident how worried he was for Fran. How helpless he felt.
How much he loved my daughter. Because she was his daughter too.
I fought off watery eyes with him. I had nothing but respect for this man.
"Evan," I said slowly, "buddy. There's only one way to end this oppression. There's only one way to free ourselves from Connor Hatch. I hate to say it, but it doesn't involve a bunch of guys in blue uniforms."
"They can help," he insisted.
I nodded. "And maybe we can use that. But we're talking about spellcraft here. If the law doesn't recognize magic, it can't possibly serve justice to those who abuse it."
He didn't answer.
"What about his island?" offered Emily. "He's kidnapped people there before."
"Maybe," I reasoned. "Although I have reason to believe he's still in Miami."
"He's a jinn," Milena cut in. "Can't he just blink over there?"
"Not with Fran. Anybody or anything that goes with him will hold him back. I've seen teleportation magic before, but that package was used by a Society enforcer. And they're not in on this."
Evan grinded his teeth. "Society?"
I sighed. "You're not gonna believe this, but they're essentially a group of animist lobbyists."
"Like a fucking wizard's guild?" He was incredulous. "Like some Harry Potter shit?"
"They have a business relationship with Connor, but that's all I know. They won't help us so we can't worry about them right now."
Evan grumbled. "I can't believe this is all going on behind the scenes. Unchecked."
It must be hard on him. He lived in a world of law and order. He'd seen those rules bent and broken, but spellcraft had its own rules. He had no idea how to deal with that. Faced with the possibility of never seeing his daughter again, it was finally sinking in.
"No one knows abou
t the Society," I explained, "so no one targets them. That's exactly the way these guys want it. But you guys have me for that. You need every hand on deck here. You need every dirty trick I can muster. You need me here, and you know it."
My friend lifted his chin, mulling it over. "What do you have in mind?"
"First off, if Emily forged some kind of link with Fran, we need to keep working that angle." I turned to her. "What I don't understand is how your crystal ball can't get a fix on her at all. If you can track her then shouldn't there be some sort of footprint left behind? I mean, I get that you didn't start the spell until it was too late and she was hidden, but shouldn't your light magic reveal an afterimage of the Intrinsics? Can't you start with her echo in this house?"
I stood at the ready, feeling I'd put together a solid metaphysical argument, but three blank faces stared back at me. Emily scooped the crystal ball into her lap. Milena swiveled her head in alarm.
"Uh," I ventured. "Was it something I said?"
Evan slowly turned to his wife. "What is he talking about, light magic?"
I slapped my forehead. "You didn't tell him," I said flatly. My friend's face went beet red. He glanced my way. I stepped away and shrugged. "Sorry, bro. She had us both fooled. I only recently found out she was an animist myself."
"You?" he asked his wife, like he was charging her with murder. "You can use magic?"
She grinned meekly. "Remember when I said there were parts of me I wanted to forget?"
"Yeah. I thought you meant your family. I thought you meant—" He stumbled on his words as his brain tried to catch up. "Magic?"
Evan collapsed to the bed. After everything that had happened—his boss being a criminal, Kita Mariko revealed as family, his wife's involvement with the Covey—Evan had a lot of things to come to terms with. The fact that Emily had been under the suggestion of a heartstone alleviated matters. It really did. But now, learning that his wife was an animist in her own right, he went quiet and broody. Emily leaned into her husband's chest, but neither of them could muster their voice.
