"There were two of him!" I shouted. "How is that a teleport?"
"How many times do I have to tell you? You must split your body temporarily to teleport."
I sighed. "It doesn't matter. That was almost a decade ago. I have more pressing issues now. If you aren't willing to help, I'll just take care of him on my own."
"Him?" he hesitated. "Another wizard?"
"A technomancer." I barely had time to finish the word before he burst into the most annoying laughter ever. If you can imagine James Earl Jones doing an impersonation of Fran Drescher, you would be spot on. Only in his case, he isn't nearly as good to look at.
"You've got to be kidding me, boy. You can't handle one technomancer?"
"Easy Pops, this one is very good. He has all the normal tricks, like vehicle manipulation, but he also has some new ones."
"Like what?" he said, finally calming down.
"I know he has a pair of glasses that can project a shield, not to mention an army of little mechanical bugs that can shock the living hell out of you."
"Figures, you would face an early adopter. Do the little bugs fly?"
"I hope not," I said, wincing. "The crawling type was bad enough."
"Well shoot, where are you at these days?"
"Same place," I said. "I'm in Boulder now, working on a case." I spend the next few minutes going over the details of the last few weeks. He was silent for the most part, minus for the scratching noise on the other end. Max Harper was many things, but he was really good about logging information. At his main house near St. Paul, he kept a growing database of wizard powers and abilities, so he can learn how to best counter any future threats. I'd be willing to bet he was going to add my information to it though asterisked to say it wasn't first hand information.
"Tell you what. I'll catch a plane out first thing in the morning. I won't be able to stay long though."
"How long is that?"
"I'll be catching another flight that evening," he said. "I'm not the only one who likes to call at bad times. At least I don't leave you hanging."
I felt a twinge of guilt in the pit of my stomach after hearing him say that. He was right. In all but one case, I could have taken off a few days to give him a hand. He would have covered all my expenses, not to mention paid me for lost time. Money was never an issue for him. If he had it, he would give it. I just got tired of asking.
"You think you can pick me up from the airport around noon?"
"I think I can handle that. Look for a blue Ford Edge."
"Wasn't there an incident with one of those at the Denver airport the other day?"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
- 20 -
I had a day to kill, so I decided to spend it kicking back at the hotel. I figured it would give me some time to figure out where Brad was heading and get some relaxation in ahead of Max getting to town. If I knew Max half as well as I did, he was going to push me to my limits when he got here. I would need all the energy I could muster.
Plopping down on the bouncy green couch, I clicked the TV to life for background noise while my laptop booted up. When I hear them talking about a funeral, I start to pay attention.
Funeral services are being held today for Detective Trevor Fields, the officer who died in a car accident earlier this week, at Green Mountain Cemetery. Visitation services are limited to close friends and family though all are welcome to attend the burial. Ceremony is scheduled to begin at 1 PM this afternoon.
After the excitement of the last few days, I almost forgot that Trevor died. I checked my phone and saw it was just 11:30, giving me a little over an hour to get dressed and down to the cemetery, so I grabbed the nicest clothes I had, which amounted to a button up white shirt and some slightly faded black pants. Part of me felt bad for wearing something like this, but there just wasn't enough time to buy something new and make it to the ceremony. This would have to be enough.
I took a quick shower, got dressed, and made it to the cemetery with ten minutes to spare. A crowd had gathered near a large tree on the east side of the cemetery. I approached from the north, stopping near another tree to watch from afar. It was hard to explain, but I couldn't deal with seeing his family, even knowing they may have wanted to see me. I ducked behind the tree when I saw Captain Andrews approaching the family from the south. She was wearing a dark blue dress uniform, her badge and insignia visible above the pockets. Unlike the male officers, she didn't wear a hat, opting to keep her hair tied back in a pony tail instead. She gave Trevor's wife a hug and shook the kids' hands before walking back to her position near the other officers.
Eight male officers, all wearing the same dark blue outfits that Andrews had on, carried the dark wooden casket with the American flag draped over the to to the altar just in front of the hole that would be Trevor's final resting place. I fought back the tears when I watched an older officer, remove the flag, the others helping him fold it neatly and then handing it to Amy, who was wearing a black dress and had a black silk veil draped over her face. Martin was sitting at her right, wearing a full black suit with a black rose pinned to the pocket. He was much taller than I remembered, probably why he was a stud on the court. Mindy, sitting on Amy's left, dressed just like her mother, the only difference being the handkerchief she constantly held up to her eyes.
An older man approached the altar, wearing a black suit over a white buttoned up shirt, carrying a large copy of the Bible in his left hand, his right was bent at the elbow with his hand held firmly over his chest. He stands behind a wooden pulpit off to the side under the shade of a nearby canopy before he speaks. From this distance, I couldn't hear a word he was saying though I didn't mind. I was having a hard enough time keeping it together without having to listen to the ceremony. He spoke for nearly five minutes before a group of three male officers approached in formation, all armed with matching ceremonial rifles. They stopped a good ten feet from the grave before snapping into attention; the cadence being given by an older man standing off to the side without a gun. I heard the sounds of the cadence, but couldn't make out the words. When the first set of gunfire goes off, I already knew what they were doing. Each of the guns fired three times before the area is blanketed in silence long enough to start putting Trevor into the ground.
"How are you holding up?" Captain Andrews said, causing me to jump when she placed her hand on my shoulder.
"About as well as expected," I said, trying my best to fake a smile. "How about you?"
"The first of many," she said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "We lost six good officers this week."
"I'm sorry," I said, my head tilting to the ground.
"I'm the one that should be sorry. If I listened to Trevor, they would all be alive."
"You couldn't have known Brad would've done all that."
She turned her head, failing to hide her tears. "I just wanted to let you know, you are still on payroll. Consider the first check an advance on what we owe you."
My jaw nearly dropped when I heard the news. "Why would you decide to pay me now?" I know if I was in her position, I would've let me take care of her dirty work for free, considering I was willing to do it already. "Not that I'm complaining, but you don't have to do this."
She shook her head. "Yes I do. We would've lost more officers if it wasn't for your quick action the other day. It's the least I can do."
For the first time today, and the first time in my life, I smiled at Captain Andrews and shook her hand. "We'll take him down together."
She laughed. "I don't think I'll be much help against him. We'll settle for you doing it."
I nodded, allowing her to walk back to the ceremony. As hard as it was to believe, I was not only welcome in Boulder, but officially part of the team. Of course I was a team of one, thanks to Brad, but tomorrow that would change.
I watched the rest of the ceremony from behind the tree, staying there until everyone else had left and the cemetery staff had placed the dirt back on top of t
he coffin. When the staff was finally gone, I walked over to the packed dirt and took a knee on top.
"I'll make the son of a bitch pay for this, Trevor," I resolved. "I promise."
- 21 -
There are two types of people in this world. Those that embrace the effects of old age, and those who avoid it. Maxwell Harper is firmly in the first camp, which made him easy to spot as he walked out of the terminal at the Denver airport. Admittedly it could have something to do with the dirt caked blue jeans he is wearing with his trademark black leather jacket. He's had that thing as long as I could remember. I'm surprised it is still in good shape after all these years though I suspect it's not the same one.
"You haven't aged a day," I said, opening the passenger side door for him.
"You have," he said, smiling as he took his seat. "One day you'll learn to take it easy."
"Says the guy who hunts dark wizards for a living."
"Hasn't been one of those in about ten years," he said. "Looks like the council's efforts are finally paying off."
I shrugged my shoulders and sat down in the car. Something told me he didn't have a clue about their investigation of me, which was probably for the best. He was usually the one they sent to track down the really bad ones, or the runners. He loved to chase down the runners. If he didn't know about my case, I wasn't going to bring it to his attention. He would probably overreact and do something we both regret.
"What have you been up to, old man?"
"I've been spending a lot of time with a clan of vampires outside Milwaukee. Between all the drinking and hunting, I've been having a blast."
"You've been hunting with vampires?" I asked, shocked. "People?"
Max broke into his usual booming laugh. "Heavens no, boy. Are you sick in the head?" He pulled out a few dozen pictures, placing them in front of me so I could look at them while I drove. They were all pictures of varying wildlife they've hunted, and killed, the last few months. He saved a picture of a beautiful elk for last, putting it close to my face to rub it in.
"That looks like a ton of fun," I said, turning onto the highway. "Might have to join you for a few weeks once things settle down."
"Well, at least they won't be too worried about you missing any shots," he laughed. I almost forgot he was on that trip until he said that. "Whenever you are ready, just give me a call. I'll give the boys a heads-up so they know you are coming. They tend to freak out when a wizard comes to town."
"Even after the treaty?"
"Especially after the treaty."
The treaty in question was signed by the vampire Lazarus nearly eight years ago. He had a rather nasty habit of hunting wizards to feed on. He mentioned that he loved the way we tasted compared to normal human blood. While vampires rarely feed on a person long enough to kill them, or cause serious physical harm, it caused an uproar in the wizard community.
Eventually a wizard named James Watts, also known for his exceptional ability to manipulate earth, led a group into Milwaukee to kill every vampire in the city. I'm not sure how many they killed, but it didn't take long for the clans to request a meeting with the council. The vampires, led by Lazarus himself, all vowed to never feed on wizard blood again. In return, all they asked was for the hunting to stop.
That had to have been the easiest treaty for both sides to sign though there are some rogue players on both sides that test the issue. The cases have been isolated for the most part, but enough to renew the tensions. Max has been spending time here hoping to repair the rift.
"I'll tell you what. Once I finish this case and handle my affairs with the council, I'll take a few weeks off," I said.
"What'd you do now?" he asked, looking over.
"They didn't like what I did to the plane, or the soldiers afterward."
"You didn't kill anyone," he said. "And what you did to the National Guard could be considered self-defense."
"That's not what they said. Cedric told me they are more mindful about cause and effect these days. He said they only attacked me because I took down the plane."
"Cedric Rogers?" he asked. "They have that crazy coot in charge of investigations now?" He shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb. "I'm going to get busy really soon with him running the show."
"Apparently," I said. "And he doesn't care for me."
Max laughed. "He doesn't care for anyone besides himself. The reason the Milwaukee vampires have been in an uproar is because of him. He is one of those wizards that ignores the treaty."
"What's he trying to do? Start a war?"
"He's been pulling for one for years. He is tired of the way the other species treat humanity in general. He believes the only way to keep them safe is by hunting those that hunt them."
"Guess that's why I'm on his list."
"I'll be on it as soon as he learns I've been working with them. He doesn't have enough sway in the council to know my true purpose there, but when he does, I'm sure there will be a shit-storm."
"Wow," I said. "Makes me wish I didn't blow off the council meetings all these years."
Max looked at me, concern showing deep in his dark brown eyes. "Whatever you do, Raymond. Don't blow off your next one. Cedric is just as willing to hunt his own kind as he is other species. I'm not so sure you have what it takes to bring him down."
"Then I need to take down this technomancer quick. I have about ten days before my meeting, which gives me seven before I have to head out."
"Well then. Tell me everything you know about your guy then. I need to get up to speed really fast."
"If I had to make an educated guess, your technomancer might not be able able to control his abilities as well as he would like."
"Why do you say that?"
"I haven't run into many, but the ones I have all had one thing in common. They all loved to fly. To be honest, I feel more secure being on a plane with one of them than without one. If something does happen to the jet, they are more than capable of bringing the plane down safely."
"That's what I would have thought. He's definitely capable of controlling cars he isn't around."
"I doubt that," he said, looking over my notes. "They have to be close to manipulate something. That or have a direct connection. Unless he's a mechanic on top of all that other junk, he watched the whole thing happen."
"Even with my Buick? I only lost control after I caught up to him. But there wasn't anyone inside."
"Oh, he was in it," he said. "He had to be. I'd be willing to bet he tailed you all the way to the crash site."
"Would make sense. Wasn't like I was paying attention to what was happening behind me after I lost control."
"The only part I'm finding odd is why he crashed all the cars so close together. He could have crashed them anywhere he wanted." That part of the equation was on my mind too. The only thing I'd come up with was how it killed the first driver instantly. He must have figured it was worth a shot again. After two deaths, it was more about laziness than anything.
"Maybe he was trying to prove a point to someone. Someone who lives, or works, close to the scene." I was grasping at straws, but it was the best I could come up with. With my time running out, I didn't have the luxury of exploring it further.
"Could be. From what you've told me, he probably has a lot of enemies."
"Well, if he can only control things from up close, that should make him easier to fight." There I was, looking at the positives. It took all the willpower in the world not to think about how his nanobots nearly took me under. If he caught me unprepared again, I doubt he will rely on one of his minions to help.
"As long as you don't try to punch him again," Max laughed. "You were given the gift of magic for a reason. Use it next time."
"I was worried about getting further on the council's bad side. You know how they feel about using magic to harm another."
"Don't," he said. "If he isn't as registered wizard, and he's been using his talents to kill people, you are allowed to take hi
m down by any means." He hesitated for a moment. "Though you should try to keep him alive if at all possible. They will definitely want to question him."
"Couldn't they just do a mind wipe on the body?"
"Yeah, but you only get to see the actions. Not the motives."
A mind wipe is a spell that some wizards have that allow them to pull the memories from a person, dead or alive. In short, it is our version of a lie detector test. The only difference is there isn't a chance of cheating it. If you did something wrong, they will find out.
In the community, there are only a handful of us that can cast the spell, and all of them are closely monitored. Usually, they get offered a high ranking position with the council, just to make that easier. There's another reason for that too. While a wipe can't eliminate your ability to use magic, it can make you forget how. That happens to be the punishment they administer to wizards that cross the line. If you remove the knowledge of magic, you eliminate the threat. This is the primary reason you'll never hear about wizard prisons.
Sorry, Potter readers. That means there really isn't an Azkaban either.
On the other side of the coin, there are a few gifted people able to reverse the effects of a wipe. Those wizards are even more rare, and powerful, then the wipers. To our knowledge, only two exist and both of them rule the council.
"Tell me. Are you any better at channeling electricity these days?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Not really."
Magic, for the most part, is elemental based. At least in how it works for us. Witches are another matter entirely though their powers could be classified the same way if you tried. We usually just leave them alone.
Earth.
Fire.
Wind.
Water.
Then you have spirit. Every one of us has some level of skill with spirit, thanks to being alive. Ability with the other four, varies wildly between casters. There is a catch to it all though. You are extremely strong with one element, and less so with the others.
Sparked: The Nephalem Files (Book 1) Page 12
