by A. Blythe
“So call 911. Maybe he had a heart attack.”
“I’m about to have a heart attack if you don’t get down here now.”
Sheesh. Farah didn’t usually get so easily rattled. “Okay, give me a minute to get dressed.”
By the time I arrived at the scene, it was teeming with familiar people. I found Farah by the door of the store, looking completely worn out.
“What happened? I only took five minutes.”
“You took ten, and I knew you would so I made a few quick calls. Your cuffs have warped your sense of time.”
There was a bustle of activity in front of us. I recognized Oscar Martinez and a couple of other mages hovering nearby. To the unsuspecting eye, they appeared to be your garden-variety loitering human. I knew better though. Two of them were performing an incantation to keep the crime scene veiled from human sight. I glanced quickly at Farah.
“The corpse is a mage?"
She nodded.
"How did you determine he wasn't human?" If he was dead, his aura would be extinguished.
"His hands," she said.
"What? They were missing?" Missing hands were the purview of the crime syndicate. The last thing we needed was a war between the Enclave and the colony mob.
"Just come and see for yourself," Farah urged, tugging on my sleeve.
The body was already on a gurney, ready for transport. Talk about service.
"Do we have an ID?" I asked.
"We were hoping you might be able to help us with that," Oscar said. "No one here recognizes him, but he’s clearly a mage."
"If he's a mage, then he should be easily identifiable on the register." All members of the Enclave were required to register by a certain age. Even if this guy wasn't a member of the Mid-Atlantic Colony Enclave, they’d be able to ID him. It would just take longer.
“Naturally, that’s the next step,” Oscar said.
Farah accompanied me to the body and pulled down the sheet. He was middle-aged, scruffy, and nondescript. You certainly wouldn’t notice him in a crowd. There were no apparent injuries. He simply looked like he was down for a nap. She pulled the sheet down further, revealing his hands and I immediately understood what she meant. Although his hands were still attached to his body, the palms sported two giant holes where the flesh and bone were burnt away. This mage had tried to defend himself against his attacker. Whatever spell he tried to use, it clearly wasn't enough.
“That had to hurt,” Thompson said, cringing at the sight.
“When did you get here?” I asked.
“Just now. I was around the corner when I got the call.”
“When it rains, it pours,” I said. “Do you think this guy is connected to the guy in the park?”
Thompson forced air from her nostrils. “Hard to say. As far as I can tell, no one saw this guy go nuts. Plus, if he’s a mage, he’s already got the Sight.”
“I heard noises outside,” Farah admitted. “I thought it was a minor scuffle.” Not uncommon on South Street.
“Those hands suggest more than a scuffle,” Oscar said.
“No other signs of a struggle?” Thompson queried.
“Not that anyone has noticed,” Oscar said. “I’ll leave you to investigate the scene once we take the body.”
Thompson chewed her lip. “You’ll share your report?”
“Absolutely,” Oscar said.
Thompson turned to me. “Any ideas on who he is?”
I shook my head. “I don't recognize him.”
“I was wondering if he was someone from your past,” Thompson said.
Or someone sent to track me down by people from my past. The Shadow Elite, former enemies, Aladdin…the list was long and illustrious.
"He may well be, but if he is, he's not someone I worked with directly." I studied the body. There were no markings—no runes or tattoos.
Oscar regarded me carefully. "I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he was discovered outside the entrance of your home."
“Agreed.” My gut twisted. Just one more thing on the Long List of Shit To Worry About. "You guys will let me know as soon as you have information, right?" If someone was after me, I needed to know sooner rather than later.
"You know the Enclave is more than willing to work with you, Alyse," Oscar said.
"Thanks, Oscar."
Although he and I had gotten off to a shaky start, the head of the Enclave had proven himself a valuable ally, mostly due to my close relationship with Pinky. Oscar and Pinky had the hots for each other, but their age gap and relative positions within the Enclave meant that a relationship wasn’t an option. As much as I liked Oscar, I knew it was the right call.
I was trying my hand at Sudoku in an effort to de-stress when the downstairs doorbell rang. I glanced out the window to see Captain Grayson Reed on the doorstep. As the captain of the local Protectorate, he was tasked with keeping the humans of the city safe from supernatural harm. The Nephilim were the self-appointed protectors of humans. An unappreciated role when most humans didn’t even know you existed.
I buzzed him in. No doubt he’d heard about the corpse on my doorstep and was concerned. Typical Reed.
He moved at full Naphil speed and was inside the apartment in seconds.
"You’re okay," he said, scrutinizing me.
“I guess you heard about today’s surprise delivery?" I flung my arms wide. “Some people get kittens or even a baby. I’m the lucky recipient of a dead mage.”
His brow lifted. "So he was a mage for sure? I think the only words that registered were ‘corpse’ and ‘Tops and Bottoms.’ Naturally, my first thought was of you."
I smiled. "Nice to know that you automatically associate me with the kinky sex store.”
“To be fair, it is owned by your best friend and you do live above it."
"Details, details." We stared at each other awkwardly for a moment. "This is the part where I offer you a drink and pretend to be hospitable.” Hospitality was not my strong suit. Neither was entertaining potential suitors for that matter. Reed had made it clear that he was interested in me, but I still wasn't sure how I felt. I knew that I liked him. In my experience, however, that wasn't enough. I was a danger magnet and anyone who got close to me generally got burned. Like my handler, Jamie. A nice, normal human working for the Shadow Elite. Dead because of me. Or Rose, the lovely mage who worked for Rocco, a member of the crime syndicate. Also dead thanks to me.
"I did run all the way here," Reed said, with a tiny hint of a smile. “A water would be good.”
I walked into the kitchen with Reed trailing behind me. "You don't need an excuse to stay longer, you know."
Reed barked a short laugh. "I really am thirsty," he insisted.
I poured water into the tallest glass we owned. I figured it would help stretch out his visit.
"All I know is there was one dead mage in front of my apartment. He's not registered with the local Enclave. He blew holes through his hands trying to defend himself. No obvious cause of death. No one saw the attack.“
"So now we wait."
I nodded. “I’m already waiting for autopsy results on another case.” Waiting sucked.
His brow lifted. “The missing girl?”
“Oh no.” We sat at the bistro table in the kitchen and I told him about the guy in the park with the Sight.
“I haven’t heard of anything like that before,” Reed said. “I’ll increase patrol in park areas, though. See if we pick up any information.”
“Thanks. Is your brother still in town?" I asked. Greer Reed was Grayson's brother and worked as an analyst for PAN, or the Paranormal Agency Network—the supernatural version of an intelligence agency.
"No, he’s back in D.C. He was needed on a case."
I tapped my fingers on the table. "So you have your house back to yourself."
He gazed at me with interest. "Why? Are you interested in a visit?"
"Just curious."
He tried to disguise a smile.
/> "Any new leads on the Dragon?" he asked.
I nearly choked on my own saliva. Although I knew I should anticipate the question, I wasn't ready for it. Serena and I had reached a temporary truce for the sake of Pinky, but we both knew it couldn't last. Serena was too dangerous to carry on and I’d promised Detective Thompson that I’d let her know the identity of the Dragon should I ever discover it. I'd always made good on my promises and had no desire to change course now. I was in a difficult situation, though. The Dragon was powerful enough to destroy the city and everyone in it, including my friends. Serena had already made it clear to me that she ruthless enough to make the sacrifice. She was wealthy and powerful beyond comprehension.
"Things have been quiet on that front," I said. Not entirely a lie. I'd had no interaction with Serena since our last conversation at her house. Well, house was putting it mildly. Her sprawling Versailles-like estate was more accurate.
"Are you getting excited for Flynn and Tessa's wedding?" Reed asked, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief.
I gave him an emphatic wave. "Great balls of essential fire, please do not say the word ‘wedding’ in my presence. The woman is driving me bonkers."
"If you need someone to hold your hand through the event, I can make myself available."
"You don't want to subject yourself to that," I said. "I'm sure it will be an unmitigated disaster. I mean, she insisted that I be a bridesmaid. What was she thinking?"
Reed looked at me with surprise. "Surely you realize why she wanted you as a bridesmaid."
“To torture me with the realization of her girlish dreams.”
“Okay, maybe that’s part of it,” he agreed. “But that’s not the only reason.”
"Flynn said it was because she wanted to recognize my importance in his life."
He shook his head. “For a smart, covert agent, you can be a bit myopic."
"Can anyone be a bit myopic? I feel like it's one of those whole hog things."
"It's a matter of keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Tessa is still worried about you and Flynn."
“Why would she worry about that? I've made it very clear that I have no interest in him." That relationship was done and dusted and had been for years.
"I'm glad to know that you feel that way, but are you sure that he does? Tessa must sense that he still has feelings for you."
“She is ridiculously neurotic," I said. Just because she was a calm yoga teacher didn't mean she lacked insecurities. She was only sure about her morning salutation and her alabaster skin.
Reed polished off his water and set the glass on the table. "I just think it will help if you understand her point of view. It's her wedding day and she doesn't want you to ruin it."
"I have no interest in ruining her wedding day. I don't even want to be there."
He reached for my hand. “You’ll make a beautiful bridesmaid, Alyse.”
“You’re mocking me.”
“I’m not.” He grinned. “Okay, maybe a little. Well, I'm glad you're okay. I should get back to the office."
"We do have these crazy devices called phones," I said. “You didn't have to come all the way here in person.”
"No," he said cryptically. "I didn't."
I walked him to the door. I got the distinct impression that he had more to say, but he held his tongue.
"Let me know when you hear something about the mage,” he said.
"I will."
4
Thompson and I sat inside the mausoleum, waiting for the arrival of Ghuls in the cemetery. She’d gotten wind of Ghul activity in the area and convinced me to join her stakeout. Thompson and I had a shared hatred of Ghuls. Ghuls had murdered her parents, leaving her an orphan when she was ten years old. She vowed revenge ever since. It was the reason she wore the PTF uniform now. Ghuls had also killed my guardian, Esme, during a field trip to Baltimore.
We passed the time by talking about the autopsy results for the guy in the park. He was identified as James Pickney, a thirty-five year old restaurant manager. No wife or kids. No drugs in his system. No family history of mental illness. By all accounts, a normal guy walking in the park.
I pressed my forehead against the cool, stone wall of the mausoleum. “So for no apparent reason, his life changed in an instant.”
Thompson gave me a rueful smile. “I think we can both relate to that.”
I laughed bitterly. One minute I’m summoning weapons in a hotel room overlooking the Mediterranean and the next minute I’m waking up cuffed and powerless in Philadelphia. Talk about a life change.
"You haven't mentioned your lord and master in a while," Thompson said.
I groaned. I knew exactly which lord and master she was referring to. His Royal Jackass, Prince Simdan. He was the royal leader of the Marida caste in the Mid-Atlantic Colony and a royal pain in my ass.
"Thankfully, I've been able to avoid him recently. He's been willing to leave me to my own devices." Which was surprising, given that he was a control freak like Serena Edwards. I suspect you probably had to be a control freak to dominate an entire colony with the sheer force of your personality. Serena had tried to remove Prince Simdan from power in a coup attempt, but we managed to thwart it in time. Of course, Prince Simdan didn’t know that Serena was behind the attack. He only knew that the Dragon had orchestrated it. He also knew that I saved his sorry ass, for which he owed me one.
Thompson fiddled with her Wawa coffee cup. “Did Pinky mention that her mother has offered to host the Police Officers’ Gala this year at her estate?”
My radar pinged. “No. Has she ever hosted before?"
"Not to my knowledge. She’s very active in philanthropy circles, though." She gave me a dismissive wave. “Like I’m telling you something new.”
I didn't like this one bit. Not all of Serena's moves were altruistic. In fact, most of them probably weren’t, except the animal welfare organizations. She did seem genuinely passionate about animal rights.
Thompson studied me. "What's the matter? You look like you’ve eaten a live pigeon and suddenly regret it."
"Nothing," I said quickly. Some covert agent I was. My poker face was as nonexistent as my powers. "I was just wondering whether Pinky encouraged it. She really likes you." A lame excuse.
Thompson chuckled. "It's not like I would normally attend. It's more for regular cops."
The Dragon was inviting the bulk of the city police force to her lair. There was no way she didn't have a plan. A bold, horrible plan.
Thompson stiffened. "Did you hear that?"
I pressed my ear to the wall.
"I think we have company." I readied my weapons.
When Thompson unholstered her gun, I noticed the saber dangling from her waistband.
“You’ve really taken to the saber,” I said, nodding toward it.
“I figure if a blade is good enough for the Protectors, then it’s good enough for me. I had a mage glamour it for me.”
We slipped out the door of the mausoleum and I tried to get my bearings. Several dark figures moved through the cemetery. They were probably on the hunt for fresh graves. The easy score. If they didn’t find any of those, they’d move on to older graves. It took more work, but they weren’t afraid of a little manual labor. They were too dumb to be afraid of anything, including me—which generally worked to my advantage.
“How many?” Thompson asked.
I counted six. “Too many.”
What the hell? Ghuls were solitary for the most part. The last time there’d been an increase in Ghul gatherings, it was because the Dragon was bringing them to town for the coup attempt. To my knowledge, those Ghuls were no longer a threat. So who were these guys and why were they hanging out together?
“Since when do they travel in groups?” Thompson asked, echoing my thoughts. “I thought the last Ghul congregation was down to the Dragon.”
“It was,” I said. “Something else is drawing them together.” Serena was too smart to try the same
thing twice. If she wanted a power grab, she’d try a different angle—like an officers’ ball at her house.
“What’s the plan?” Thompson whispered.
I didn’t get a chance to answer. A flash of gleaming metal caught my eye and a Ghul went down. Then chaos erupted in the shadows. Voices called to each other.
“Who in the hell is that?” Thompson asked.
“I don’t recognize the voices.”
Thompson charged ahead. She didn’t want anybody raining on her Ghul parade.
By the time I reached the scene, three of the Ghuls were dead and the other three were surrounded. Based on their uniforms and special swords, I knew they were Protectors.
“Did Captain Reed send you?” I asked.
“No,” the taller male replied. He held his sword at the ready to keep the Ghul at bay. “We were on patrol and saw suspicious activity in the cemetery.”
“All four of you?” I asked. Protectors didn’t typically patrol in groups of four. Two at the most.
“Captain Reed increased patrol numbers,” the female said. She was stockier than most female Nephilim.
“And we each have a trainee tonight,” the Protector replied.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep these three Ghuls alive,” I said. “I’d like to see if one of them is willing to talk.”
“No can do,” the man said. “Our standard orders are to kill Ghuls on sight.”
I sauntered closer to him, trying my best to project confidence and authority. Two qualities that appealed to the Protectorate.
“And I’m asking you to stand down,” I said. “Lieutenant, is it?”
“Lieutenant Balwick.”
“Nice to meet you, Lieutenant Balwick,” I said. “My name is Alyse Winters and this is my friend, Detective Thompson. She works for the PTF.”
“I do,” Thompson said. “It says so right here on my black polo shirt.” She pointed to the emblem on her shirt.
The Ghuls grumbled to each other, watching for any opportunity to break free. I didn’t want to give them the option, but I couldn’t let these enthusiastic Protectors win a pissing contest with me either.
