by Gina LaManna
“I can see why,” I said dryly. “It’s killed two women already, and it looks as if it’s made a good dent in Linsey, too. We need to get her out of that harness.”
“We tried,” Marcus said, raising a hand at the same time I raised mine. “If you’re going to send a Slicing Spell her way, I’d recommend you don’t.”
I turned, holding the ball of magic in my hand. “I have to try something.”
“I’ve already tried it and nearly took off a toe,” he said. “Magic either bounces back or dies in these chambers, and it’s hard to tell which. Wouldn’t want you to lose that pretty head of yours in a mistimed spell, Detective.”
I let the anger and frustration course through me, causing the spell to flame brighter and brighter, until Lisa shook her head. With a sigh, I let it burn out as I dropped my hand to my side.
“She’s aware,” Lisa said. “But she’s very, very weak. You will need to call on her for help. It’s what Cynthia is doing. I’m afraid you’ll have to tap into Linsey’s power in the same way she is, or we will all die here.”
“What if I kill her?” I asked in a low hiss. “I can’t take that risk.”
“You must. We must—for her,” Lisa said. “And Linsey would want you to. She’s just as brave as my Tink, and I know for a fact that if it were Tink being drained, she would do the same thing. You have to trust her.”
“How do we do it?” Marcus pulled himself up, dangerously close to the bars of the cage. “I’ll do it.”
“You won’t,” Lisa said. “It’s Detective DeMarco’s choice to make. If you do this, Detective, I’ll need you to concentrate. I can help you.”
“How do you know the spell?”
“We’ve been taught it,” Lisa said. “The elders teach us so that we can recognize it... and run.”
Something from the inside, something distinctly paranormal, started happening in my chest, and my breathing constricted. I reached up, clasped a hand to the necklace, and understood that elfin magic was at work, and I was just a conduit for it.
“How does it work?” I trailed off mid-sentence as something rocked my body.
Tink had known I’d need this link to her mother. She’d seen the future with her extraordinary abilities. But what did that mean? Did it mean I was supposed to use Linsey’s power to help us all escape, or would I kill her in the process?
When I opened my eyes, I knew. I had the words to the ancient Siphoning Spell gifted to me from Lisa. She’d known the forbidden magic, knew the way to invoke its power. I felt the bracelet burn on my wrist—the tool that would be used to funnel Linsey’s power through my limbs.
I looked to Linsey, wishing her awake, and I spotted the matching bangle on her wrist. The Siphoning Spell linked us together. All I needed to do was invoke its magic, and Linsey’s powers would flow through me. It was our only hope of escape.
And there was a very real possibility it would leave her for dead.
I closed my eyes. As a cop, as a human, as a witch—I couldn’t trade lives. I couldn’t sacrifice Linsey for the rest of us. It was my duty to protect the innocents. All of them. Not some of them. If I began choosing lives, playing God, I would no longer be a protector. I would be a destroyer as well.
I opened my eyes, my mind searching tirelessly for other ways out of this mess. Matthew knew I was in trouble, I thought with hope. But I knew just as quickly that he wouldn’t be able to find us in time. Wherever Cynthia had stashed us, she’d hidden it well. She’d been planning this for months, if not years.
“Where’s Cynthia’s mother?” I asked. “Is she here, too?”
“Her mother?” Lisa asked, looking genuinely confused. “No, why? Why would she be here?”
“I think she’s the link—”
“You think right.” A cool, collected voice spoke from a particularly dark shadow on the wall. A doorway. “Hello, Detective. How are you feeling?”
“Cynthia,” I spat. “How could you do this? Maybelline and Lillie were your friends. Linsey is just a girl. Lisa has a small daughter who needs her. Marcus—well, you can have him.”
“Thanks, DeMarco,” Marcus said dryly. “Appreciate it.”
Cynthia let out a tinkling laugh. “A sense of humor in the face of danger—I can appreciate that, Detective.”
“Let them all go,” I said. “And you can have me.”
Cynthia shrugged. “I don’t want you. I’d prefer wealth. Revenge, maybe. A bit of it all.”
“Is this because of Maybelline and Lillie?” I asked. “You knew they were...something more?”
“My mother was one of them, too.” Cynthia snapped her fingers and four torches—one on each wall—burst to life. In the flickering glow, she wrinkled her nose at the question. “When I realized she wasn’t as crazy as I first thought, I began investigating these magical powers. Once I opened Pandora’s box, well... it’s hard to close.”
“Why the casino?”
“It’s expensive to be evil,” Cynthia said with a huge, burdened sigh. “Cover stories, informants...” She raised her hands and gestured to the room. “Prisons.”
“Did Reina know anything?”
Cynthia laughed. “No. She’s just an ambitious young woman who wasn’t opposed to being put under a spell in order to make a quick burst of cash. She won’t remember anything.”
“Damien,” I said. “And Jim?”
“Also unfortunate casualties,” Cynthia said, flicking her tongue across her lips in thought. “Then again, I’m not sure Damien was so unfortunate. He was freaking annoying.”
“You met him at Dust,” I said, filling in the pieces and doing my best to keep Cynthia talking. If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d seen Linsey flicker with a hint of movement, and I wanted to keep Cynthia distracted for long enough to see if I’d been correct.
“Yes, it was an excellent scouting ground,” Cynthia said. “I perfected the potion to test for this unique power Maybelline and Lillie had. They were the guinea pigs, if you will. Once I used it on them successfully, the rest was history.”
The jealousy radiated off Cynthia, off the pout in her lips. Her eyes flashed every time she mentioned special powers in one form or another. But she must have realized she sounded petty because she quickly planted a grim smile on her face.
“Well, this has been fun, but I’m tired of talking.” Without warning, Cynthia raised a glowing hand and shot a burst of lightning at Linsey. The girl screamed, and even over her screams, Cynthia shouted louder. “Not so special now, are you?”
“Stop it!” I yelled at Cynthia. “She’s been hurt enough! Let her live, and we’ll cut you a deal. I swear it.”
Cynthia let up on the electricity bolts. In an odd twist of events, the spell seemed to have the slight benefit of waking Linsey—at a painful cost. Her head still hung low, but her breathing was loud and ragged, and her eyes had opened to stare at the floor. She was listening. And like the rest of us, she was helpless to act.
“Seeing as I don’t trust you,” Cynthia said, “I’d rather do things my way. I’m planning on killing you first, Detective, because it will obviously distract the vamp.”
“Distract him,” Marcus snorted a laugh and gave a shake of his head. “Yeah, right. You touch DeMarco, and King will tear you limb from limb—if you’re lucky.”
“I expect that,” Cynthia said. “Which is why I’ll be gone, and you all will be dead. But first, we’ll need the detective’s body as an offering. I promise you, DeMarco—hold still, and this won’t hurt.”
“Who was driving the carriage the night you tried to kidnap Lisa?” I interrupted. “Was it Damien?”
“Of course it was Damien. I’d already killed his father,” Cynthia said. “Then again, Damien didn’t really like that. So, he had to go, too.”
“I guess we owe you a thank you then,” Marcus said wryly. “You’re taking care of everyone involved. Now, all we have left to manage is you.”
Cynthia gave a hearty laugh. “Yes, well. You should’ve kept gun
ning for that promotion, and I would have left you alone. But no. You had to become friendly with DeMarco.”
Marcus snorted. “Friendly. Right. Either way, I think you should reconsider killing DeMarco first. It won’t end well for you.”
Cynthia looked as if she were actually reconsidering. “Maybe you’re right.”
Marcus gave a wan smile. “I usually am.”
“I’ll take that as you volunteering to take her place.” Cynthia shrugged, then flicked her blond hair over one shoulder. “Lights out, Detective Prey.”
“No!” I lunged toward Cynthia, but my body was pulled back, jerked to the ground by a forceful tug at my neck.
I realized all too late that Tink’s pearl necklace had acted with protective instincts of its own and pulled me out of harm’s way just as Cynthia let loose a stream of magic that reeked of black Residuals toward Marcus.
She must have put a one-way magic charm on the cages because the rays of blue electricity passed easily between the bars and hit Marcus on the chest. He flew backward, his body crashing into the rear bars of the cage and sending a second round of energy coursing through him.
He collapsed to the floor, his body looking broken and deformed like an old, tossed out puppet. Blood dripped from his nose and his lips, and his eyes were closed.
I tore my gaze up from the sticky cement floor and found Lisa’s eyes closed, her lips moving in some swift incantation. She’d invoked the protective powers of the spell to keep me safe, and I wasn’t happy about it. But Lisa had saved me from ending up like Marcus, and if I didn’t do something fast, it would have been for nothing.
“Your turn, DeMarco,” Cynthia said, coming close to me and giving a deliciously evil grin. “Say goodnight, Detective.”
“No.”
The whisper came from the corner, startling everyone into pulse-pounding silence. I spiraled to face Linsey, noting Cynthia turned in surprise as well.
Linsey’s gorgeous hair had turned scraggly and brittle, and her clothes hung from her thin body. Everything about her shouted death—except for the ferocious glint in her eyes.
“Invoke it,” Linsey whispered, her gaze locked on me. “Or I will.”
“No—Linsey,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s too much for you!”
“Invoke what?” The first fingers of panic wormed their way into Cynthia’s voice. “What is she talking about, DeMarco? Invoke what?”
“Linsey, there’s another way,” I said. “Don’t—”
“Invoke what?!” Cynthia screeched. Her hand flailed with manic energy as she turned toward me. “Your magic won’t work here.”
“But mine will—we’re connected, Detective.” Then Linsey let her head drop, and she released a deep, strong incantation with the very last dregs of her energy. As the words left her lips, her bangle began to glow.
Cynthia’s howl of disapproval was drowned out by two violent bursts of light—one from across the room as a golden light burst from Linsey’s chest, one from somewhere near me.
From me, I corrected, as I looked down and saw the vibrant yellow beams shooting from my fingers. More impressive, however, was the effect it had on my sight.
There were two versions of the world before me, and I understood, without actually comprehending, that I was seeing both reality and the future. I watched as Cynthia howled her disapproval at the realization that I had the bangle. That I was now siphoning powerful elfin magic through Linsey due to the old magic she’d invoked.
Superimposed over the scene before me, I watched as Cynthia reached behind her body and gathered momentum to throw a curse at me. I watched as the curse cracked the magical barrier around the bars. I watched as the cage broke and set us free. I watched as Cynthia stepped into the cage and killed Marcus.
With a sharp inhalation of breath, I focused on the piece of reality dangling before me, and I saw Cynthia winding up with the curse that would destroy the cages. I reached down and pulled Marcus to the side—out of the path of magic. Then I ducked to the other side of the cage, just as Cynthia sent her curse bolting toward the bars.
As I’d predicted—or rather, seen—the curse cracked the magic and bent the bars in every direction. I was standing at the mouth of the opening because I knew, I’d seen, the hole before it had occurred.
This was more than clairvoyance, I thought. No wonder the elves kept this powerful magic a secret. It had been exploited in the past and would be exploited in the future if they weren’t careful.
And suddenly, I understood Leonard Luca’s impossible choice. I understood that as a leader of his people, he had to choose between the life of his daughter and the knowledge of centuries old magic that could bring an entire culture to its knees.
Hurriedly, I yanked Marcus out of the cage and sent him flying across the room toward Lisa with some Moving Magic of my own. His body crashed unceremoniously to the floor, and I winced at the thud. But at least he was still alive.
I sidestepped another curse, quite easily, as Cynthia worked her way toward me. So long as I focused, so long as Linsey stayed alive and siphoned her power through me, I could keep this up. But my time was limited. I could feel the power weakening as Linsey’s head drooped and the golden light we shared fell to a dull sheen.
With startling clarity, I knew that I could change the future. I could see what would happen, and I could change it—after all, hadn’t Cynthia killed Marcus in my vision, yet somehow, because of my actions, he was still alive?
“The necklace!” Lisa said. “Trust it!”
I heard her shouting, just as Linsey’s magic died. Her head fell to her chest, the light from her vanished without a trace. My body felt a tingle as the Siphoning Spell left the bangle, and my fingers looked pale and useless without the streams of magic filtering through them.
If only Lisa had gotten to the bangle, the magic might have lasted longer. Poor Linsey had given her all and there was nothing left. There was a good chance Linsey was dead, but she hadn’t left without giving me a parting gift.
A way to kill Cynthia.
The half-elf bore down on me, her eyes crazed as both hands crackled with energy. She had prepared a spell that hovered in her palms; there was enough force there to send this entire place crumbling to the ground with a single incantation. And as I’d seen in my last vision, it would be her own magic that brought her demise.
“Protective spirits, we call you here,
Reflect this evil drawing near.”
I wasn’t exactly sure where the words had come from, but I knew they’d come from me. From within, from the combination of Tink’s necklace and from Linsey’s last burst of clarity and a glimpse into the future.
That’s why, when Cynthia lowered her hands and loosed every last inch of magic on me, I stepped forward. Into the line of fire.
I held my ground as the magic hit me in the chest, and I was unable to stop the scream ripping from my lungs. It was the greatest pain I’d ever known; as if my limbs were pulled from my body, my brain heated to a boil, my skin crawling with needle pricks and doused with lemon juice.
Eventually, the pain became too much and overloaded my senses, drawing me to my knees. For one horrible, awful moment, I thought I’d seen it all wrong. That it had all been too little, too late, and Cynthia would leave us all for dead as she disappeared into some great beyond.
Tink would be motherless, Leonard would be daughterless, and the department would lose two detectives. Matthew would wonder what could have been between us, and he’d be torn with the knowledge that while he’d laid himself bare before me, it had still been too late. Too little, too late.
Until suddenly, the magic reverberated off my chest and reversed in its direction. It shot backward, and I watched as Cynthia’s eyes widened with fear, and the full brunt of magic returned and crashed against her, engulfing her with inky blackness.
It’d been painful for me to experience, and I’d been protected by elfin charms. For Cynthia, it would be a thousand times worse.
I dragged myself to her body, breathing heavily, and rested my fingers against her neck. There was no pulse, but I’d hardly suspected there would be after seeing and feeling the force of her magic. It had been meant to obliterate, and obliterate it had.
Just then, the doors burst open to the chamber and in jogged Matthew and Grey, and behind them, Nash. My brother had his Stunner raised in one hand and an orb of magic in the other. Matthew and Grey needed no such weapons. They were weapon enough, in and of themselves.
“Too little,” I said with a gasp. “Too late. She’s dead.”
Chapter 27
“Let me get this straight, DeMarco.” Chief Newton squinted across his desk at me, looking wildly unconvinced. “You’re trying to tell me that Detective Prey single-handedly took down Cynthia in the warehouse basement?”
I nodded, my neck feeling stiff as it bobbed my head up and down. It’d been a week since the showdown with Cynthia in the dungeon—an old, abandoned warehouse she’d converted into a prison-like space—and my body felt mildly as if it’d been electrocuted. Nothing I couldn’t work with, and a hell of a lot better than Cynthia’s outcome, but still—I was walking like an old woman in a nursing home and hating every moment of it.
“I’ve had several reports that it was you who reversed Cynthia’s magic,” the chief drawled, rapping his knuckles on the desk. “Multiple eyewitnesses have given more or less the same account of the events from that night, and they all match. Except for yours. Why is that?”
“Lisa and Linsey are the real heroes. They’re the ones we should be focusing on. And Tink, too.” I dodged the chief’s question. “I told you, there were protective charms on the necklace and bracelet I was wearing, and the elves channeled some magic through me. But I didn’t do anything—not really. It was all Marcus, Lisa, and Linsey. I was just a warm body they used.”
The chief steepled his fingers and spun his chair around. His office was situated high in one of Wicked’s loftiest buildings. The view from the Sixth Precinct was a good one, though not glamorous, stretching from the Otherlands to the Depth and beyond.
