by Tom Keller
"He'd do whatever it took, and damn the consequences," I replied, looking down at the note Alf had written. "But I'm not a king, and I have other issues to consider."
"Ah, yes. Rules," she continued. "Your father speaks of such things often. He is not fond of them. But I have learned much since I pledged myself to him, and I believe I know a way to help. One that… how does he say it? Skirts these rules that you must live by."
"Go on," I said, then broke out in a grin when she relayed the idea she had come up with. Between that and what Alf had found, she might be right.
Chapter 5
"Wake up, sleepyhead," a voice said, while gently rocking my shoulder. It was Jazzy. I must have been exhausted to not hear her come in.
"Sorry. Long night," I said, rolling over and pulling the covers up. "What time is it?"
"Just after noon. We brought coffee," she replied, placing a cup on the nightstand. "Get dressed and we'll tell you what we found. What little of it there is."
"Give me the nickel version," I said, a few minutes later, as I joined them in the living room and picked up another cup.
"A nickel!" Jesse said, getting up from the couch and reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his hand and threw three pennies onto the table. "You got change coming, Vato."
"I hate to continue this coin thing you two have going," Jazzy said, shaking her head. "But Grimoires are a dime a dozen. We're going to need more to go on if we want to narrow it down to something we can actually search for."
"I'm done with the clichés," Jesse said. "There's not much more than what we already knew. All I have on Syrach is that he is what he says he is, a Duke of Hell, and that Surgat is one of his minions. Other than a list of some of his other troops, there isn’t much else to report. What about you?"
"I've been busy," I said, then told them what I'd learned from the Gnome.
"There's no proof that Simon the Mage ever wrote a Grimoire," Jesse said, when I finished. "But that doesn’t mean it isn’t possible. If the book was a codex, then the Gnome's right. If it isn’t a forgery, then it's a copy. Anything original would have been in scroll form. I'll see what I can dig up."
"I've been to the Carmel in the Desert," Jazzy said, firing up her tablet. "I didn’t know that was its name. I thought it was just an old cemetery. It's close to some sand dunes my pack uses for runs. The road from Amargosa to Big Dune runs right by it. The dunes are a popular place for the pack and some of the other locals, including a few covens. Far enough away to be ourselves, yet close enough to get to in a couple of hours. Plus, there's less chance of being discovered up there because it's relatively unknown. Most other folks would rather go to Dumont. It's about the same distance, and a lot larger."
"I've heard of that group," Jesse interjected. "They were a religious order of nuns. I seem to recall an obscure reference about them being keepers of secrets. Nothing about witchcraft, or books of spells, though.
"They set up Missions in various places in the old West," Jazzy said, looking down at her laptop. "The convent here wasn't established until late 1800s or early 1900, during the mining booms. It says here that they wanted to bring Christianity into the lawless lands. But there's almost no other reference to the local order until around 1965, when the last member passed away. The land reverted back to the State sometime after that." She typed in a few keys, then swung the computer around so we could see the screen. "Now, this is interesting. Tom Harris has a blog."
"What's interesting about it?" I asked, reading his latest post from across the table, discussing spelunking in East-Central Nevada.
"His last entry was 6 days ago," Jazzy replied. "He was consistently posting every two days before that. Let me find an address, then I'll have Slater do a work up on him." She swung the tablet back and began typing.
"Probably not a good sign," I said, standing up and draining my cup. "Okay, here's the plan. We're out of here. I got us a late check-out, so when you're done, grab your gear. Let's get the rentals turned in first. I have a new car waiting. We'll head over to Harris' after that. From there we have a few odds and ends to take care of. I want to check out these ruins next. They're only a hundred miles north up the 95."
"Got it," Jazzy said. "It's just a few miles away. He's got a house near East St. Louis and 17th street."
"Good," I said. "We'll go DHS on that one, so dress accordingly."
Everyone grabbed their things as Jazzy made the call to the office. A few minutes later, we took the rentals to the lot of a downtown casino where their offices were. As they went into the building to turn the cars in, a black Jeep Wrangler pulled into the lot. It parked beside me and Michael from the Neptune stepped out.
"Your other items are already at Cornwall's" he said, handing me the keys. "One of my folks will be waiting. He'll have it stocked up and ready to go in about an hour. Gerry will have the cards and paperwork ready for you to sign when you get there."
Gerry, better known as Gerald Cornwall, was a prominent local attorney, and a Fae as well.
"Perfect… and thanks," I replied.
"No. Thank you," he said with a chuckle. "It's nice to see that you're every bit as devious as your father can be. I almost fell off my chair when you told me what you were up to last night."
Although Michael worked for the Neptune, in a prior life he'd been a contractor for the EAB, as well as a few other agencies that even I didn't have the clearance to know about. He was well versed in the art of problem solving when working within a bureaucracy.
"I wish I could take all the credit," I said, holding out my hand. "But I had a little help from friends."
"That's what we’re here for," he said, shaking it. "Stay safe, and congrats on the promotion. I can't think of a better place to have you than the 55." He waved and a black SUV pulled in the lot to pick him up. He was gone before the others returned. So much for my new assignment being a secret.
"A Rubicon?" Jazzy commented, as the two came back out. "Where'd this come from?"
"I had someone deliver it, " I replied, standing by the brand-new Jeep. I started loading our bags in the back.
"I've always wanted one of these. Funny, but I've never seen one available in the car pool."
"That's because they don’t have one," I replied, closing the back. I walked toward the passenger side, tossing the keys over the roof to her. "Consider it yours."
"The paper plates say it's registered to a corporation," Jesse noted, climbing into the back seat. "You got some splaining to do here, Jefe."
"All in good time," I replied. "First, let's deal with this Harris thing. Hand over those DHS jackets, will you?"
Jesse gave me two of the blue windbreakers with DHS imprinted on the back in bold white lettering that I'd put in the rear seat. I slipped mine on while Jazzy drove. I clipped my old duty weapon, a Glock 17, on my belt, and turned back to the Wizard.
"Jazzy and I will take the front, you get the back. We'll treat it like a knock and talk, but radios on tac 2, just to play it safe."
Jesse nodded, and a few minutes later, we pulled up in front of a small, non-descript, single story home. This was an old Vegas neighborhood. The homes were small, but well kept, with mature trees and landscape. Jazzy parked in front of the house next door.
"Smell it?" Jazzy asked before we even stepped out of the Jeep.
"Yep," I said. Dead bodies. Nothing else smelled the same. The place looked locked up and undisturbed, but the odor said something very wrong had happened here.
"No movement inside," Jazzy said, checking the door. "It's unlocked."
"We're going in," I said, keying the radio so Jesse knew what we were up to.
I pulled my gun as Jazzy pushed the door in. The house was in shambles. Even so, we cleared the place room by room. Magic senses, or not, it paid to play it safe. I stepped over the body in the hallway, then went to the kitchen to open the back door and let Jesse in.
"One 419 in the hallway," I said as he entered. 419 was police jargon for a dead body.
"We'll have to call the PD, but see what you can find out before they get here."
Jesse nodded and moved into the small living room as Jazzy knelt and looked over the victim. I made the call to Lt. O'Malley. He oversaw the homicide unit and was our contact at the LVPD. I also asked him to send my sister. She might be the Queen of the Dryad, but she was also one kick ass CSI.
"Victim's a white male in his 50's. Looks like our boy." she said, holding up her phone with the picture of Harris from his blog. "No obvious wounds. Condition is about right for someone that's been dead about a week, especially with the a/c on to keep temps stable. Do you want me to move the body to check further?"
"No need," Jesse said from behind me. "It was magic. You can’t see it, but he took a massive jolt to the chest. They'll call it a heart attack, but we know better." He stepped closer and pointed to the wall above the body where the drywall had caved in. "From what I can tell, it looks like someone had him pinned to the wall right about here. Not much of a struggle. I'd guess he told them what he knew. That, or they got impatient. That kind of attack doesn’t have to be fatal, but obviously someone was pissed off."
"Any idea who, or what it was?"
"There's no trace of Fae or Demon here," he replied. "Normally, that kind of magic dissipates fairly quickly, but whatever happened here was off the charts. I think this was earth magic. The kind that comes from a Bruja. A Witch did this, and a strong one, based on the level of emotion one would have to have to toss the furniture around."
"So… what?" Jazzy asked. "You're saying it's a Witch because women are more emotional than men now? Although I will agree they used magic. Nothing else would cover their scent.
"Not exactly," he replied, grinning. "And the jury's still out on that one; at least where you're concerned. Need I mention the guy at the nightclub in Reno that wouldn’t take no for an answer? I seem to recall someone saying they weren't sure if he'd ever walk again. But no, that's not it at all. It's the magic."
"He had that coming when he grabbed my…" Jazzy said, before I interrupted.
"Enough! Let's stay on track, shall we? By the way, I asked them to send Nikki to process the scene. But let's get back to what you've turned up. Why do you think it’s a Witch?" I asked, jumping back in to the conversation. Like many younger Werewolves, Jazzy tended to get hot under the collar quickly, and Jesse knew exactly which buttons to push.
"Strength in magic can come from a lot of places," he continued, winking at her as she stuck her tongue out at him. "Emotion is just one of them. I'm saying what we have here is strong, because you can sense the rage in it. But I'm guessing it's a Witch because of the way the magic was used." He glanced at Jazzy. "Not just because of the emotion behind it. Maybe Nikki can turn up something I can't, but what a Witch is doing summoning the likes of Syrach is beyond me. He's not on the top 10 request list, and it still doesn't explain how she knew this Harris guy found the book, or why she wanted it. If this book is that valuable to someone, we need to know why."
"Jazzy," I asked as she stood up. "You looked at his site. Did his blog say anything about his find?"
"Not in the posts I saw, but I only went back a month or so." She walked into the living room. "I'd say we could check his computer, but somebody beat us to it."
The monitor was smashed. Someone had put the keyboard through it. As for the rest of the computer, it was on the floor in pieces. The placed had been trashed.
"Wait. Hard drive's still here," she said, using her knife to lift the case. "Want me to bag it?"
"Yeah," I replied. "Then give it to me. I'll let O'Malley know we're taking it. He won’t be happy, but he'll play along, or at least I hope he will. "
We found a packed suitcase under the bed with $12,000.00 in bills under the mattress. Jazzy says some of it came from the Gnome, she can't be sure about the rest. His old truck was clean, he wasn't on his way out the door when it happened, but he'd made plans. O'Malley showed up about 15 minutes later, with Nikki not far behind. We stood outside while Jesse walked Nikki through the scene, and I explained what I could to O'Malley.
"It's yours then," he said, chomping on the stub of his cigar. "Let's see what Nikki turns up before I call it a natural, but I'm going to have to update the sheriff on what really happened here. The Witches have been quiet for a long time now and you'd best tread lightly. He's not going to like some lone wolf summoning Demons running free out there. Even though the EAB is flexing its muscle, I'll still expect you to keep me up to date on your progress. If you can't clean it up, or I find more bodies, then I'll have to step in to keep him happy, whatever your bosses may think." He glanced over at Jazzy, then nodded. "No disrespect intended."
"None taken," she replied.
"Not a problem," I said. Unlike the Fae, the EAB didn't have a standard protocol when it came to dealing with Witches. At least, not since they stopped being hunted in the late 1700s. These days, Witches were a world unto their own.
First off, they were human, and readily accepted by the population these days. Oh sure, that hadn't always been the case. But Witch trials are a thing of the past, except in Hollywood, and no one seems to worry too much about that spilling over into the real world. Second, they practice white magic, at least as a rule, and some groups are recognized by the humans as a religious movement of their own; the Wiccans being a good example. Third, there's a lot of them, and they don’t have a central authority, so trying to negotiate with one or another of the various covens, as the EAB does with the Fae and other non-human magical creatures, isn't likely to happen. There's just too many of them out there. Most importantly, their roots are buried deep in the country's history. You'd be surprised at how many famous people you've read about practiced the art. We even had a few that worked for the EAB. So for the most part, unless one goes rogue and starts tossing black magic around where others can be affected, like what appeared to have happened here, as a group, they don’t normally come to our attention.
Oh, there's one more thing. Witches are fond of Dryads, and many of the other magical creatures, as well. Jazzy's pack, for example, was pretty tight with at least one of the local covens. Something to do with our affinity to nature, I guess. Trees, wolves, that kind of thing. Unfortunately, I didn’t usually deal with the nice side of that community, so while I had a few sources when it came to investigating these kinds of things, I didn't have any I could trust.
Chapter 6
"All done here, little brother," my sister said, as she and Jesse came out of the house.
"What did you find?" O'Malley asked, before I could respond.
"It's pretty much what the Wizard said," she replied. "I'm not a coroner, but cause of death is consistent with a magic jolt to the chest. His heart's probably fried, but it'll pass as natural causes with a few words in the right ear. The place is clean, no prints but the vic's that I could find. I have to agree with the Wizard. This one was pissed off and trashed the house in a rage of magic fury."
"So, you agree with his assessment that it's a Witch?" O'Malley asked.
"A human anyway," Nikki replied. "But that's consistent with what I found. As for the perp? She was tall, had blonde, or possibly light brown hair, came in alone, and probably wore jeans. She doesn't live in the neighborhood and parked her car, which was white by the way, down the alley a bit. She walked in and out through the back gate."
"You got all that from what's inside?" Jazzy asked, skeptically. "Other than what Jesse found, there was no scent of the killer that I could find."
"No," she said, laughing. "Whoever did this knew how to cover their tracks. But she was seen by the raven in the tree out back. They're incredibly intelligent, by the way. Of course, what he said was, a human female with feathers the color of the sun and fur of morning glory, riding in a mechanical beast that was white as snow that came and went 6 or 7 suns ago. He's only seen her the one time, and he can't pinpoint the exact day. But my translation is accurate enough. Just don’t expect me to swear to that in court."
"Don’t look at me," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "It's not in my skill set. At least not here."
"I'm not surprised," Jazzy replied, rolling her eyes. "But I agree, ravens are smart. They're known to follow the pack when we run, to feast on anything left behind."
"All right," O'Malley said. "You got your natural causes. Officially, at least. I'm going to clear. I'll have our coroner enroute. Patrol can stand by until he arrives. They can book the money for safekeeping. Keep me informed." He walked off down the sidewalk, in the direction of his car.
"One more thing," Nikki said. "This Witch may not know how powerful she is. She knew enough to clean up after herself, but still left traces of magic. I don’t think she's had a lot of training, but that's only a guess."
"Thanks," I replied. "Every bit helps."
"It's my lunch time," Nikki said. "Care to join me?"
"I wish we could," I replied. "But we've got a few more items on the agenda that can't be put off."
"Next time then," she said. She started to walk off, then stopped and turned back to me. "By the way. What did you do with the hard drive? Or is that what Sendy was here for?"
"You got me there," I said, sheepishly. "On both counts. I already told O'Malley, but I had her take it to Malcolm. I'll get you a copy of the report if you need it."
Malcolm Smitt was a computer forensics expert and our dad's old partner. He was also part Fae as well, and Sendy's boyfriend. Which is why I called her to deliver it to him. Don’t even ask me how that relationship started. I haven't a clue. What was important was that he could be trusted, and he'd rush the recovery as well.
"That's what I figured," she said. "No need. O'Malley's turned this one over to you and you can have it. I have plenty of cases of my own to keep me busy. But call me if you need me for anything." She hesitated a moment, then added. "Congratulations on the promotion, by the way. But watch out for yourself, little brother. I don’t like the vibe I'm getting from this place. So, when I say anything, I mean anything. Got it?"
