Criminal Enchantment

by Shanna Swendson

  He went into the next bank he passed. It was crowded, given that it was lunchtime on a midmonth payday Friday. There were lots of people cashing or depositing their paychecks. At this bank, I spotted a couple of people who were obviously magical folk, as they had wings. Their veils must have been set to disguise themselves from nonmagical people, but anyone with magic could see them for what they were. My guy took one look at them and turned around, glancing at his watch and muttering something about the line being too long, just loud enough for people around him to hear. Again, he looked sweaty and shaky. Whatever he planned to do, he was at least a little afraid to do it.

  He paused and hesitated outside the next bank, then shook his head and moved on. He passed a fast-food joint, stopped, and turned back. That really made me wonder what his plan was. I couldn’t think of too many ways that he’d make massive profits magically holding up a burger emporium.

  It turned out he was hungry for lunch. He got a combo meal and stood holding his tray, looking around for a seat in the crowded restaurant. A young woman sitting alone at a nearby table looked up and made eye contact with him. He smiled, holding that eye contact, and approached. “May I join you?” he asked.

  “Be my guest,” she replied.

  I thought I sensed some magic being used, but I gotta admit, I was distracted by the smell of French fries cooking. Would the lady have let him sit with her if he hadn’t hit ’er with a whammy? If he had used the spell, it must require eye contact to work. That would make it of limited use in this city, where the usual mode of operation is “I’ll pretend not to see you if you’ll pretend not to see me.”

  Once he sat with her, he didn’t try to make small talk. Maybe he really just wanted a seat. He ate his burger while she sipped her drink and read her magazine. She looked up at him as she packed up her trash, and this time I was sure I felt magic. He said very softly, “catsup,” and she automatically handed him a leftover packet. She blinked and stood up with her tray. He grinned to himself and let out a long sigh.

  I followed the lady out so I could give Palmer a shout. “Whatever he’s up to, it seems to require eye contact. I think he was just testin’ it on someone, and it worked. Or it seemed to.” I described the events from the restaurant.

  “It does somewhat limit the potential damage if it requires eye contact,” Palmer said. “It’s not too far beyond hypnotism, and it’s very difficult to do that outside a controlled environment. I wonder how he plans to use it.”

  “He’s gone into a couple of banks, and each time he’s come out sweaty, pale, and shaking. Maybe he’s hopin’ to have a teller make eye contact so he can get her to hand over a bunch of cash. He’s gotta be planning to use the new spell, because it’s not as though he can sneak out with stacks of money under his shirt.”

  “I wonder how long the eye contact is required. Does that start the spell, or does it need to be sustained?”

  “Well, that lady didn’t change her mind about lettin’ him sit with her, but it’s not as though it would be too odd to share a table during the lunch rush. I doubt she’d have blinked out of it and wondered what he was doing there, so it’s hard to judge.”

  “Stay on him, and we should probably have people ready to act. Keep me posted.”

  I was beginning to think the guy had stayed to apply for a job, he took so long to leave the restaurant. When he eventually came out, he moved with something almost resembling a sense of purpose. He headed straight for the nearest bank branch, but instead of going inside, he leaned against the wall outside. It looked like he was gonna be there awhile, so I landed on the nearest lamppost to watch him.

  As near as I could tell, he was scoping out the people leaving the bank. He kept his head down and acted like he didn’t notice the obviously magical folks or anyone who was large and looked physically threatening. Anyone else, he smiled at and said, “Hi!” but this bein’ New York, they all pretended they didn’t see him. He must have been there a good half hour, and lurking outside a bank for that long tends to make people suspicious. When the bank’s security guard stepped outside and glanced in his direction, he quickly shoved himself away from the wall and made tracks down the sidewalk.

  He repeated the process at several more banks, but either he never found quite the right target or he couldn’t get anyone to meet his eyes long enough for him to work the whammy on ’em. Eventually, we were almost at the tip of the island, so there wasn’t much farther he could go. It was now or never, so I called for backup. If he was gonna do anything today, it would be here. By now, it was close to the end of the workday, so people were gettin’ cash for the weekend from the bank’s ATMs. If he was plannin’ to con someone into handing over money, this was a target-rich environment.

  We were close to MSI headquarters, so my people were there in no time. Pretty soon, we had gargoyles situated on every window ledge and rooftop on the street. There was no way he’d get away from us. But it wasn’t just my people who were there. Palmer and his buddy, Rod Gwaltney, who was technically in charge of personnel, but sometimes joined in on operations like this, also showed up.

  Palmer headed into the bank, and from what I could see through the windows, he went to the table where you can write out checks or deposit slips and started writing. Gwaltney stood on the curb near where our guy lurked, checking his watch and looking down the street like he was impatiently waiting for someone.

  The suspect went through his usual routine of smiling and speaking to people as they came out of the bank. I guess he finally figured that people coming out of a bank would be suspicious of someone lurking outside and speaking to them, so he started talking to them on their way in, maybe thinking that if they’d already spoken, they’d be more likely to look at him on their way out.

  He had about the same luck as before, which is to say none. Nobody heading into the bank looked like an easy target to me. Most were the Wall Street power broker type, hardheaded and so focused on themselves or their cell phones that I wasn’t sure even a spell could break through. He was looking pretty discouraged when a young woman came up the sidewalk toward the bank. She walked rapidly, clearly in a hurry, but when he said, “Good afternoon,” she turned to look at him, smiling and nodding in response. He grinned and straightened as she entered the bank. I know it sounds like a cliché, but he literally rubbed his hands together in glee. If he hadn’t found a good mark, after all, he was blowing it with anyone else who came by because he looked outright shady now. People gave him a wider berth than they’d give a passed-out panhandler.

  A second later, I got a call from Palmer. “Did he talk to the girl who just came in?” He sounded like he was barely whispering into the phone.

  “Yeah, and she actually acknowledged him. Why? Is she acting funny? She hasn’t tried to hold up the bank, or anything, has she?”

  “No. But it’s her.”

  “Her?” I had a feelin’ I knew what he meant, but the kid was such an easy mark, I couldn’t resist havin’ a little fun.

  “The one from the bookstore.”

  “Well, I know I advised you to talk to her, but don’t do that now.”

  “But what if he did something to her?”

  “Intervene if it looks like she’s gonna do somethin’ that would get her in trouble, but otherwise, this may be our only chance to see what this spell really does. Leave it to you to crush on the only girl in Manhattan who makes eye contact with strangers. What’s she doin’?”

  “She’s in line at the ATM.” I noticed that he didn’t deny crushing on her.

  “I would tell you to keep an eye on her, but you’d probably do that anyway, huh?”

  “Sam, I try to be nice, but I do own a chisel.”

  “Hey, just kidding.”

  There must have been a long line at the ATM, because it was close to ten minutes before Palmer’s gal came out of the bank. Our guy was getting real antsy, checking his watch, frowning, pacing back and forth on his square of sidewalk. The girl might have been naive enough
to make eye contact with a stranger, but she was street smart enough not to be counting her cash as she emerged from the bank. As soon as he saw her, our guy snapped to attention and approached her. “Hi again,” he said.

  Now she looked a bit wary. “Um, hi,” she said, sidestepping him to move up the sidewalk. He caught up with her and kept pace. He struggled to keep up with her, even though he had much longer legs. He didn’t look like he was used to exerting himself much. They hadn’t yet reached my perch, so I stayed still and waited for them to pass beneath me.

  “Looking forward to the weekend?” he asked.

  She turned to look at him and froze. This was it, I was sure. I felt a surge of magic and knew he was doing whatever he planned to do. Behind them, I saw Palmer leave the bank. There was a flash of anger in his eyes when he saw his girl with the creep, and I hoped he didn’t do anything that would derail our mission here. He’s a pretty level-headed sort, but I’d never seen him around a girl, so I didn’t know if he’d do something stupid and chivalrous.

  I glanced back at the girl and realized she wasn’t staring at the creep. She was staring at me. “Was that there before?” she asked. She had a slight drawl, which explained her interacting with a stranger. She didn’t sound like a native New Yorker.

  “Was what?” the guy said, breaking eye contact to glance around.

  “The gargoyle. Actually, there are gargoyles all over the place. You’d think I’d have noticed them. It’s a bit early to start decorating for Halloween, isn’t it?”

  She saw us? That shouldn’t have been possible. I checked my veiling spell, and it was holding tight. Nobody should have been able to see me. I should have been invisible even to our own people.

  The guy was as baffled as I was, but apparently he wasn’t smart enough to make the connection that gargoyles might mean security forces were present, because he turned back to her, caught her eyes once more, and said, “Hey, mind giving me a hundred bucks?” He said it as casually as he’d asked to share the table at the fast-food joint, and I felt his magic as he spoke.

  She took a big step back from him and clutched her purse tighter against her body. “Are you mugging me, or panhandling?”

  I couldn’t see the guy’s face, but I did feel the surge of magic as he tried to whammy her again. “Neither. You just want to give me a hundred dollars.”

  “I’m afraid you picked the wrong person to hit up for money,” she said, getting over her shock enough to start moving again, hurrying away from him. She was close to getting out of range for me, and I didn’t dare move if she could see me. So far, she’d written me off as an early Halloween decoration, but she wouldn’t be able to do that if I started flying.

  Fortunately, Palmer and Gwaltney were on the case, and the sidewalk was crowded enough that they blended in and didn’t look like they were stalking her. For whatever reason, the spell wasn’t working on her, so we weren’t going to get a good look at what it did. Now the key was keeping her from getting hurt without letting her see magic at work.

  She reached an intersection with a “don’t walk” signal, and unlike a lot of the other people around her, she actually stopped. That allowed our culprit to catch up with her. “Hey!” he said, moving around so that he was in front of her. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

  “I’m not interested,” she said, turning away from him.

  The guy frowned and reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded sheet of paper that he proceeded to read. While he was checking his spell, the light changed, and the girl crossed the street. It took the guy a moment to realize he was losing his target, and then he had to dodge cars to follow her because the light had changed again. I don’t know why he didn’t give up and try someone else, but so far he seemed to be blaming the spell or his ability instead of his target.

  Palmer was right behind them, close enough to keep an eye on things, but not so close that the girl would notice him following her. He managed to cross the street against the light without breaking stride or inconveniencing a driver. I was never sure if that was just a knack of his or if he’d developed a spell for that. Gwaltney had a little more trouble, having to dodge cars and wait for a bus to pass. By now, I thought it was safe for me to move, but I made sure to stay well behind them, just close enough to overhear.

  The guy caught up with the girl at the next intersection, where she again stopped to wait for the light. If I hadn’t already had the impression that she wasn’t local from her drawl and her willingness to look at the guy, I’d have been sure of it now. New Yorkers have a very casual relationship with traffic signals. I felt the guy try to give her the whammy again. “Don’t you want to give me something?” the guy asked.

  “No, I don’t,” she said. “I want you to leave me alone. If you’re going to mug me, then I need to see a weapon. That’s the only way you’re going to get any money out of me, and I certainly don’t have a hundred bucks to give you.” I was starting to see what Palmer saw in her. The girl had spunk.

  She moved as soon as the light changed, darting across the street, and before the guy could follow her, Palmer stepped in, detaining him with a wave of his hand. I was impressed, or maybe disappointed. It was his chance to play hero and meet the girl he’d been admiring from afar, but he acted in a way that meant the girl would never know he’d come to her rescue. She was too busy practically jogging away to notice what was going on behind her.

  Palmer summoned the spell out of the guy’s grasp. “Let’s have a look at this, shall we?” he said. He read for a moment, then shook his head. “Hmm, there are too many violations here to list easily. You’re trying to use influence on the nonmagical. That’s forbidden.”

  “It’s a lousy spell,” the guy said. “It didn’t work. I thought maybe I needed to get closer. Maybe it requires physical contact, though it doesn’t say anything about that, just eye contact. It worked when I tried it earlier.”

  “So you admit that you were trying to use magic to manipulate a nonmagical person for your own personal gain?”

  The guy went white. He’d been so focused on making the spell work that it didn’t seem to have occurred to him that he was confessing to a crime. Palmer wasn’t dressed like an enforcer, but you never knew. “I can show you where I got it,” the guy said.

  I landed on the newspaper rack next to them. I figured that with the girl gone, it was safe for me to join in. “We already know. We just didn’t know what the spell did.”

  “Thank you for giving us a copy,” Palmer added as he folded the paper and tucked it into his own pocket.

  “Want I should call in the enforcers to bring him in, boss?” I asked.

  Palmer studied the guy for a moment. “He didn’t do anything that we have any evidence of, but he was in possession of an unauthorized spell full of violations. The enforcers would consider that proof of intent to commit a magical crime.”

  “Yeah, bustin’ up this kind of thing is practically the reason they exist,” I said. “We should also bring in his source, let him know what someone’s doin’ with his spells. I don’t think you were supposed to use this until tomorrow, were you?”

  I thought the guy would pass out. Me knowing that showed him just how much evidence we probably had on him. “No, you can’t do that,” he moaned. “Please! I won’t use the spell again.”

  “What about the one for shoplifting using magic?” Palmer asked.

  “I never used that one!”

  I looked at Palmer. “Whaddaya think, boss? If you ask me, he’s not worth the paperwork.”

  “Well, all we have on him was the spell, which didn’t seem to work, so perhaps the enforcers wouldn’t be too eager to get involved. The spell was what I wanted. We can let him go—this time.”

  The guy practically wilted with relief. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

  “But we know where you live, so you’d better keep your nose clean,” I warned. “There are better ways to use magic, you know.”

  He didn’t waste time giving
us a sob story about doing what he had to do to get an operation for his sick mother, or anything like that, for which I had to give him some respect. He merely took off in a flash. I didn’t know how long he’d manage to stay out of trouble, but I made a mental note to check in on him every so often.

  By now, Rod had caught up to us after finally getting past the traffic. “Wasn’t that our guy?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but we seem to have foiled him, so we let him go,” I said.

  “You let him go?” Gwaltney asked.

  “He wasn’t successful at whatever he was trying to do,” Palmer said. “From a quick glance at the spell, I’d have to say that it’s not well-designed, but it should have worked. Maybe he’s just too incompetent to cast it properly.”

  “More like he tried casting it on the wrong person,” I said with a snort.

  “What do you mean?” Gwaltney asked. “Did she have a counterspell? I didn’t think I noticed anything magical about her.”

  “More like she’s immune,” I said. “I’m pretty sure she saw me and my guys. She talked about seein’ gargoyles that she’d never noticed before and said she thought it was too early to put out Halloween decorations. That could explain why the spell didn’t work on her. He was doin’ it right and had enough power, but he managed to pick a magical immune as his victim. Of all the luck.”

  “An immune? Really?” Gwaltney said, his eyes lighting up. “And she seemed to be fairly functional. She handled a stressful situation pretty well. We need to look into this. Do we have any way of figuring out who she is and where we might find her?”

  Palmer blushed from collar to scalp. “I might have seen her around. She seems to live near me.”

  Rod grinned and clapped him on the back. “That’s her? The one you have a crush on? The one you spotted at the bookstore?”

  “I didn’t say it was a crush. I just said she seemed nice.”

  “But you know where to find her?”

  Palmer didn’t meet his friend’s eyes, and if he turned any redder, he’d be stopping traffic. “I might have noticed a few things about her routine, since I keep seeing her around. I’m not stalking her,” he hurried to add. “We just seem to go to a lot of the same places.”