Grave Ransom

by Kalayna Price

  The magic techs were done; I was clear to enter without dying as soon as I stepped through the door, but the crime scene techs still had work to do. They were going to let me do a visual survey, though, so they knew what to focus on.

  The desk was the obvious target. The drawers hung open, papers and office supplies that had previously been stored there now tossed to the floor. The locked filing cabinet in the corner had been left alone, but the mini-fridge beside it hung open. Whoever had tossed this room hadn’t been looking for information on my cases, they’d been searching for personal items. Which seemed like overkill, as the spell in the doorway had been deadly. The necromancer was clearly thorough.

  “It looks like my coffee mug is missing. Maybe some pens?” I scanned over the loose papers scattered across the floor and desk, but the officer wouldn’t let me move anything. “And . . . a picture of my dog.” That realization made my already queasy, knotted stomach ache, like I’d been punched.

  The cop looked up from his notepad. “So nothing of value? Computer? Electronics? Spell materials?”

  I kept my focus on the desk so that I didn’t glare at the cop. Didn’t he realize the significance of what had been taken? Actually, I couldn’t sense any magic on him, so he was likely a norm, maybe even a null. Without looking up, I shook my head.

  “I don’t keep any of that stuff here.”

  “Okay then, if you’ll step out of the room, we’ll let the crime scene guys in.”

  I nodded numbly and set my feet to follow the familiar walk out of my office that felt so very foreign today. I didn’t stop in the lobby, where Falin and Briar were having what looked to be a very heated argument. I just kept walking until I was out the front door and on the sidewalk.

  Dawn was beginning to paint colors across the horizon, and the glow from the windows behind me was too dim to light up more than small rectangles on the sidewalk. I walked to the edge of one of these islands of light and gazed out into the darkness beyond. There was no streetlight in our back alley road of the Magic Quarter, and to my eyes, the street might as well have been lost in a void for all I could see.

  “I should take you to Faerie,” Falin said, joining me on the sidewalk. “I don’t suppose you’d agree to stay in the castle for a little while?”

  I shook my head. “That won’t help me find the necromancer. He spelled my office. What if I hadn’t come in today and Ms. B had stepped in there first? Or Rianna? Or if I hadn’t stopped you in time?” I wrapped my arms across my chest, hugging myself. Then I let my arms fall, my fists clenching. “The necromancer needs to be found quickly.”

  “I thought you quit?” Falin’s voice was oddly dull, as if he was intentionally withholding emotion from the words.

  “Yeah, that was dumb. Quitting the case isn’t going to make him stop coming after me.”

  “Not bad, Craft. You came to that conclusion faster than I was expecting,” Briar said from the doorway. “All quitting really does is remove the extra protection of me at your back, so I’m going to give you the chance to reconsider.”

  If looks could kill, my glare would have taken off several layers of her skin. She only grinned at me, waiting.

  “You’re a bitch, but yeah, I’m still on the job,” I finally said, and I could all but feel Falin’s disapproval.

  “That’s the spirit, Craft,” Briar said. “Now ditch the suit.” She nodded toward Falin. “We’ve got somewhere to go.”

  Chapter 19

  The whole Alex-is-now-a-two-for-one-deal, the-FIB-agent-you’ve-been-arguing-with-will-be-joining-our-team talk went about as well as could be expected. In the end, Briar relented and she gave us an address where we should meet her next. After a tense start to a conversation in which Falin tried to encourage me to take a holiday in Faerie, and my subsequent poor reaction, we spent most of the drive in silence.

  The address Briar gave us turned out to be for an all-night diner just outside the Magic Quarter. She already had a table when we arrived. There was no real surprise in the fact that the table was in a corner with a good view of the rest of the diner and the door, but what was surprising was that she wasn’t alone at the table. A man sat in the chair beside her, his attention on a book in front of him. He looked up as we approached, closing the book with a soft snap.

  “You must be Alex Craft,” he said, offering a smile that looked genuine.

  I nodded. “And would you be Briar’s elusive partner?”

  “One and the same,” he said, his smile widening with amusement at the description. “Derrick Knight.”

  “Hopefully it will be nicer to meet you than it has been your partner,” I said, holding out my hand, but Derrick drew his hands back, recoiling from my offered handshake.

  “Derrick doesn’t shake,” Briar said, leaning back in her chair.

  He lifted his hands in front of his chest, palms out in a supplicating manner. I noticed for the first time that Derrick wore gloves, not dissimilar from the gloves Falin wore to protect himself from iron. Was Derrick fae?

  The thoughts must have been written all over my face because Derrick shook his head. “Touch clairvoyant,” he said by way of explanation.

  I blinked in surprise. Briar had said he was a premonition witch. If he was also touch clairvoyant, then he was doubly wyrd. That was almost unheard of. Wyrd abilities themselves were rare. But having two? And both with serious consequences. That had to be hell. I was even more impressed he was still sane. Or maybe he wasn’t. After all, he was Briar’s partner and I was starting to question my own sanity for working with her.

  Derrick’s attention moved over my shoulder, to the fae still standing a step behind me. Apparently Briar wasn’t planning to do any introductions, so I turned, motioning to him.

  “This is Falin Andrews.”

  Derrick nodded amicably, and Falin and I took our seats at the table. The waiter stopped by our table before any further conversation could occur. I hadn’t had time to look over the menu, but it was breakfast time, so there were some obvious options every diner carried, like coffee and pancakes. Falin mimicked my order, Briar ordered a milkshake and onion rings, and Derrick ordered oatmeal with almond milk and fruit.

  When the waiter returned with the two coffees and the milkshake, Derrick pulled a reusable water bottle out of his briefcase.

  “I can get you a glass of water, sir,” the waiter said, frowning at the bottle. When Derrick began to politely refuse, the waiter said, “I’m sorry, we don’t allow outside beverages.”

  With a sigh, Derrick dug his wallet out of his pocket, flipped past his MCIB ID and badge to another card, and held it up for the waiter. I glanced over, trying to read the bold print from across the table. From what I could tell, it said something to the effect that the bearer of the card suffered a magical disability and might require special arrangements to avoid interacting with items that had come in skin contact with other people. The waiter’s eyes widened.

  “Sorry, sir. I didn’t realize . . . I can ask if we have any sealed dishes.”

  “I’m fine,” Derrick said, lifting his bottle.

  The waiter nodded, still looking uncomfortable. Then he hurried off, muttering something about checking on the food. Once he was gone, Derrick took a moment to pull a set of silverware out of his briefcase, as well as a cloth napkin.

  “Go ahead and ask,” Derrick said without looking up, and I realized that Falin and I were probably watching him a little too hard.

  Heat crept to my cheeks. I of all people should know better than to stare at someone because they were wyrd. Touch clairvoyants were rare, but we’d had a few at my boarding school. I hadn’t known any of them personally, but I’d seen them around school. They’d all tried as hard as possible to avoid touching other people or items recently touched by another person, as they didn’t like getting flashes of others’ lives unexpectedly.

  I knew from my own
wyrd abilities that the drawbacks often set a wyrd witch apart and it could be awkward. Sometimes I talked about it, sometimes I didn’t want to. Of course, Derrick had offered.

  “Aren’t you worried about the food?” Falin asked.

  Derrick shrugged. “There is a risk, but machines process most food, and food workers are required to wear gloves, so most food has minimal impressions.” He turned to me. “Go ahead, you get one free question as well.”

  I frowned at him. “I doubt quizzing you about your wyrd ability is why Briar asked us here.”

  “Ten points for Craft,” Briar said, saluting me with her milkshake. “We’re here to strategize and try to pin down our next lead.”

  “And I wanted to give you something,” Derrick said, opening his briefcase once again. He pulled out a silver charm on a thin black cord. He looked it over a moment, and then he held it out, letting it dangle over his gloved palm.

  Falin scowled at the necklace in Derrick’s hand. The silver charm looked like a cartoon fairy from before the Magical Awakening, complete with glass-jeweled butterfly wings. “Is that a joke?”

  “No,” I said, reaching out but stopping just short of touching the cord. “That’s one of the most potent defense charms I’ve ever felt.” I let my ability to sense magic wrap around the small charm. With Briar and her magical arsenal within arm’s reach, it was hard to focus on the spells in the pendant, but I could sense a lot of protective magic packed into the tiny glass bobbles in the fairy’s wings. “You’re giving this to me? In exchange for what?”

  “No catch.”

  The look on my face must have been more than a little suspicious because he laughed.

  “You’re too young to be that jaded. How about in exchange for putting up with Briar?”

  Briar grunted but didn’t put down her milkshake as she said, “I’m sitting right here, you know.”

  “You’re going to need it,” Derrick said, leaning forward to hold the charm closer to me.

  When a premonition witch says you’re going to need one of the most potent defensive charms you’ve ever felt, you don’t second-guess the urgency. That doesn’t mean you don’t ask questions.

  “Do we have a lead?” I asked as I accepted the charm, careful not to brush Derrick’s gloved fingers as I took it.

  He only shrugged.

  Which didn’t explain why I needed the charm. Briar had said he shared only what he had to about his premonitions. I guessed I should have been happy to have the warning and extra protection, but I was more than a little terrified that something was going to happen that I would need it.

  “It will need to be personalized,” he said, nodding to the charm.

  I grimaced. Personalizing a charm wasn’t hard, but the best way to do it was a type of blood magic. Many of the strongest protection spells used blood as a focus. As did the very strongest offensive spells. I flipped the little fairy over and saw the small well between her wings where the blood was meant to go.

  If I needed a protection spell this strong, it was probably because of the items the necromancer had stolen to use as a focus. But he didn’t have blood. It made sense to give the protection charm the best focus I could provide. Unfortunately, the only dagger I had on me liked to draw blood a little too much and I didn’t want to give it access to mine.

  I turned to Falin. “Do you have a knife that isn’t enchanted?”

  He hadn’t stopped scowling since this bizarre conversation had begun, but he didn’t argue, he just handed me one of his silver daggers. Pricking the side of my finger, I squeezed the smallest drop of blood onto the charm.

  It was enough. I immediately felt its magic lock with mine. The protection spell that had been waiting idle, coiled inside the glass bobbles, expanded, crawling over my fingers where I touched the charm and then sliding up my arm, over my elbow, across my shoulder, and down my torso. It was an odd sensation, but not a bad one. Kind of like taking a dip in warm bathwater. Within moments, the spell had coated me in a thin layer of magical protection. It wouldn’t completely deflect an offensive spell, and if I’d stepped into the ambush spell at my office wearing it, the charm couldn’t have shielded me from all harm, but it felt strong enough that I probably would have walked away. I would have needed medical attention, but it wouldn’t have killed me.

  “This is amazingly done,” I said, my voice sounding as awed as I felt as I clipped the charm onto my bracelet.

  “I’m not so sure I like my partner giving other girls jewelry,” Briar said, and while the words were light, playful, there was something in her dark eyes as she said them that made me think she meant the words more than she wanted to admit.

  “Don’t worry, I got you something too.” Derrick held out his hand, where a tiny silver crossbow with a ruby-colored bolt dangled from another cord.

  “Oooh, what does it do?” Briar asked, accepting the charm.

  “With any luck, it should keep the smell of decomposition out of your leathers,” Derrick said as the food arrived, and the waiter almost dropped my plate of pancakes.

  “Am I the only one getting increasingly worried about the things the precog is not telling us?” I asked. Because this case was sounding worse and worse.

  “No,” Falin said, and while there had been a hint of despairing amusement in my question, Falin’s voice was anything but amused.

  The waiter finished setting plates in front of us but didn’t ask if we needed anything; he just hightailed it away from our table. He could have stuck around. The conversation petered out as we all tucked into our respective breakfast choices. I would have thought I’d be too preoccupied to eat by the fact that Briar would be covered in decomposition at some point soon and I needed a protection spell—which indicated a spell was going to hit it and I didn’t know how much would make it through or what condition I’d be in afterward. Then the first bite of perfectly cooked fluffy pancakes hit my stomach and my body realized I’d skipped too many meals yesterday and hadn’t had enough sleep. I barely tasted the second or following bites as I devoured them, and I’m not sure a single thought entered my head.

  When everyone was done and the bills had been paid, I said, “So where to next? Do we have a lead or don’t we?”

  Derrick glanced at his watch. “We may have to order dessert first.”

  “Dessert isn’t usually part of breakfast,” I said, but as I spoke Falin’s phone buzzed.

  He took a glance at the display and excused himself to take the call outside.

  Derrick lifted his gloved hands in a mock shrug. “Alas, it appears we will have to do dessert some other time.”

  I frowned at him. I wanted to tell him this wasn’t a joke or a game, this was my livelihood going up in flames around me, but I held my tongue. Maybe he wasn’t quite as sane as Briar touted.

  Or, maybe he’d been stalling.

  Briar pulled her phone from her pocket. I hadn’t heard it ring or buzz, but she answered it saying, “This is Darque.”

  Falin rejoined us at the table as I pulled on my sweater.

  “They found the getaway car the intruder at your house used this morning,” he said, scooping up my purse and handing it to me.

  Briar looked up from her phone call. “A red hybrid sedan?” she asked, and then listed off a license plate number.

  Falin nodded, looking skeptical.

  “Small world,” she said, shoving her phone back into her pocket. “That was Remy Hollens’s car. The police are holding the scene for us. I guess we have our lead.”

  • • •

  Derrick didn’t accompany us to the scene but said he had some things to look into. As we had before, Falin and I drove separate from Briar, but this time we arrived together. I’m not sure what I was expecting, probably an abandoned car left somewhere obscure. What I was not expecting was to arrive at the scene of a multiple-car wreck.

 
The accident had traffic backed up for miles. Despite Briar and Falin both being told the best roads to take to reach the accident, we still hit terrible congestion as soon as we left the Magic Quarter and crossed over the Sionan River toward town. Even with official strobes for the vehicles, it took an agonizingly long time to reach the scene. The sun was well above the horizon by the time we arrived, offering me plenty of light to take in every terrible detail.

  Three vehicles were involved in the accident: Remy’s red sedan, an old pickup truck, and a small hatchback. From what I could gather, Remy’s car had been driving erratically—based on the timeline, after fleeing my house. It merged into the pickup, which caused the car to spin out, hitting the hatchback. The red car then ricocheted into the concrete barricade nose first. The driver of the hatchback had been seriously injured and rushed to the hospital. The pickup driver had less severe injuries, though he still required transport to the hospital, but he’d been able to answer some questions before he’d been packed off in the back of an ambulance.

  According to the officer who’d taken the man’s statement, the man said that two women had been in the red car. After the vehicle had finally come to its violent stop, the passenger, who’d been ejected from the car at some point, had hobbled over to the car and tried to drag the driver out. That hadn’t worked, as the driver’s legs had been pinned. The passenger had then limped away, but the man swore she shouldn’t have been able to. He said her body was twisted from the impact, and at least one bone in her arm had been jutting through the skin, one leg dragging behind her as she made her way off the highway. The other girl had yelled after her, begging her not to leave her until suddenly, she’d collapsed face forward into the steering wheel and not moved again.

  The officer looked up from his notes. “The man had lost a decent amount of blood, and based on what he said, I’m assuming he had a head injury.”

  I glanced at Briar. After seeing the decaying creatures in the clearing still up and moving around, I wasn’t so quick to discount the pickup driver’s story.