Not Just Voodoo

by Rebecca Hamilton

  Hell yeah. I was so ready for this.

  “Well, don’t you look like a hotshot?” Roanas said as I swaggered into the kitchen. Platters of eggs, bacon, and pancakes sat on the stove, and Roanas was already sitting at the table, his plate nearly cleaned. He eyed one of the charms swinging from my utility belt and frowned. “When was the last time you had that checked? You might need to replenish it.”

  “I’ll visit Witches’ End soon,” I promised as I brought my plate of food to the table. I sat down, then hesitated, my fingers drifting to the circular stone amulet in question. “Do you think anyone will question this?”

  Roanas shook his head. “Enforcers wear protective amulets and charms all the time. You don’t need to tell them the true purpose for that one.”

  I nodded, then dug into my food with a little less gusto than I normally would have. As far as everyone knew, I was just a jaguar shifter, tossed out of the Baine Clan because my aunt, the Chieftain, hadn’t been able to stand the sight of me after my mother died. No one aside from Roanas and a select few members of the Baine Clan knew the truth—that I was actually half-mage.

  And if anyone found out, I was dead. Only full-blooded mages, born into a mage family, were allowed to have magic. They, and the foreign magic users who lived in Witches’ End—immigrants who paid a hefty fee for the privilege to live in the Northia Federation and keep their powers.

  The reasoning, of course, was that these immigrants were already fully trained in their magic, and could keep a handle on it without losing control. But those of us who were born with magic into a non-mage family could not be trained, as there were no mages who would take responsibility for us. And the Canalo government certainly didn’t want to trouble themselves over our welfare any more than they had to. Their solution was to send mages into the public schools to test all the children for magic. Those who tested positive were given two choices—have their magic stripped or lose their lives.

  I had no idea what would have happened if the mages had found out about me. All shifters had a little bit of magic in us—it was what allowed us to change forms. If I had tested positive as a magic user, and underwent the magic wipe, I might not have been able to survive it. Or worse, I might have been turned into a human. A shudder wracked me at the thought. Either one would have been a horrible fate.

  Thankfully, I’d never had to find out, because I’d passed the tests with flying colors. I shouldn’t have been able to do so—I had magical power in spades, if the few outbursts I’d experienced were anything to judge by. Most of the time, though, I couldn’t access my magic at all. It only seemed to come out when I lost my temper, or when I thought I was going to die.

  Which, unfortunately, happened far more often than I’d like.

  Worried now, I rubbed my fingers against the amulet, which Roanas had purchased for me from a charm shop in Witches’ End. This amulet was meant to contain magic, so that when I got riled up, it wouldn’t come spilling out. Roanas had gotten it for me when I was thirteen because I had nearly killed another shifter teen with an accidental outburst of my magic during a brawl. He’d used his influence as the Shiftertown Inspector to sweep that incident under the rug. Since then, he had enforced a rigorous training regimen on me. Kan-Zao, the ancient martial art he’d learned during his travels in Garai, was largely about mental and physical control. The lessons had gone a long way in helping me get a handle on my emotions.

  Unfortunately, there was only so much training could do. Shifters were passionate by nature, and when we were threatened, it was hard to control our instincts.

  A knock pulled me from my thoughts, and I jerked my head toward the door, nostrils flaring. A human, I thought, catching the scent. Male, musk, and leather with the faintest trace of stale blood. My pulse sped up a little—it was an enforcer. It had to be. They were the only humans who came calling to this house.

  “I’ll get it,” Roanas said, his chair scraping back. “You finish eating.” He patted me on the shoulder as he moved past me, out of the kitchen and into the living room.

  I did as I was told, reaching for another piece of bacon. After all, I could hear the conversation just fine from here—there was no need to go to the front door.

  “Good morning, Inspector Tillmore,” a gruff voice said. “I’m Enforcer Elin Blackhorn.”

  “I know who you are,” Roanas said mildly. “What can I do for you at this early hour?”

  “Do you know of any suspicious out-of-towners who may have taken up residence in Shiftertown recently?” the enforcer asked. “Anyone who’s been flashing money around more freely than usual, for example?”

  “Not that I know of.” I could hear the frown in Roanas’s voice. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just keep your ears open,” the enforcer advised. “Two banks and a large jeweler have been hit recently. We have reason to believe they’re all being done by the same gang.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  The enforcer hesitated a moment, as if reluctant to share the information. But Roanas worked with the Guild on a regular basis, and it would be unreasonable for the enforcer to expect Roanas to cooperate without divulging something. “In each case, the robbers dug beneath the buildings and directly into the vaults to steal gold and valuables. After the first two hits, other establishments around town started hiring extra security, but the guards at the jewelry shop were knocked out by some kind of sleeping spell. Probably an illegal charm. The Canalo Bankers’ Association has set a record-breaking bounty for anyone who catches the gang.”

  I sat up straight at that, my bacon forgotten. Record-breaking bounty? I listened harder, eager to catch any other details I could. What if I could somehow cash in on this? I bet I’d be the first rookie to take down a case that big. I’d set a record of my own!

  “Why do you think the robbers are strangers?” Roanas asked.

  “There was a similar rash of break-ins in Baro,” the enforcer said.

  I frowned. Baro was the capital of Inara, one of the Federation’s Midwestern states. Canalo was on the West Coast—nearly a thousand miles away.

  “Only two months ago, by my records. We’re contacting Enforcers’ Guilds in other states to see if any other towns have been hit by the same gang. I have a hunch that they might have done a few other break-ins on their way to Solantha. Several crews are on this case, so it’s a race to see which one of us catches the bastards first. Any tips would be much appreciated,” the enforcer added, a note of urgency in his voice.

  I didn’t wait to hear any more. Leaving the rest of my breakfast on the table, I bounded out the back door to grab my bicycle. If several crews were on the case, I had a chance to get in on this. And I damn well wasn’t going to waste it.

  2

  I whizzed through the city on my rickety bicycle, shooting past the border of Shiftertown into Rowanville. Rowanville was the only place in Solantha where shifters, mages, and humans lived together—mages usually lived in the Mages Quarter, humans lived in Maintown, and shifters lived in Shiftertown. Apart from Solantha Palace in the Mages Quarter, the few government buildings in our town were all located in Rowanville, the Enforcer’s Guild included.

  As I approached the tall, dingy grey building that served as Solantha’s bastion against crime, a steambike whizzed past me, nearly knocking me off my own vehicle. I choked on the cloud of hot steam, then glared at the shiny machine as it sped past me and into the Guild’s parking lot. Dammit! Even my strong shifter legs couldn’t pump hard enough to keep up with steampower. I’d coveted a steambike since I was barely a teenager, but they were expensive as hell. Many of the enforcers had them, and I tried not to glance at the row of shiny bikes parked outside the Guild as I tucked my rickety little bike into the corner.

  You’ll get one of your own soon enough, I told myself as I squared my shoulders. You just need to catch some fat bounties first. In a city with half a million people, where crime was alive and well, how hard could that be?

  Putting my vi
sions of grandeur aside for the moment, I pushed open the door, then swaggered inside as if I owned the place. I’d been in here plenty of times during the past few weeks as a trainee, but I still got a little jolt of excitement as my boots clopped against the scuffed cream tiles. The lobby was buzzing with activity—enforcers coming and going via the bank of elevators along the back wall, and trainees upfront dealing with the rows of people who’d come here to report a crime or check in on a case. I’d been one of those trainees barely a week ago, and I gave them a little salute as I sauntered past. They watched me with a combination of hope and envy, and I knew they were counting down the days until they could get out from under the thumb of the tyrannical desk sergeant and join the ranks upstairs.

  Trying not to look too eager, I hurried into an elevator with a few other enforcers. They eyed me with looks ranging from curiosity to resentment, and I stared resolutely at the steel door, ignoring them. I knew that the older enforcers didn’t always like new blood—after all, enforcers made their living off bounties, and the more enforcers around, the more competition we’d have to contend with. Hopefully, the most successful crews would feel differently, since they were already at the top of the pole. From what I’d observed, there weren’t that many shifters in the Main Crew, so maybe I could convince them that I’d be an asset.

  The enforcer at my left elbow raised an eyebrow as I stepped off at the third floor, which belonged to the Main Crew. I tossed my curly hair over my left shoulder and marched through the rows of desks, ignoring the way the enforcers sitting at them eyed me with barely concealed disdain. I wasn’t going to let these guys intimidate me, not if I wanted to be one of them. Most enforcers were assigned to a crew, and the Main Crew tended to get the most lucrative dockets. Since Captain Galling hadn’t assigned me yet, I planned to get the Main Crew to take me in before he stuck me with a lesser one. I’d already thought out my speech to the crew foreman—I wouldn’t beg, but I’d propose a probationary period, where they’d give me a month to prove my worth. I’d heard they were two enforcers short after a recent accident, so I should have a chance.

  But before I could reach the office of the crew foreman, located toward the back, a huge male stepped in front of me. He was six foot three and around two-hundred-and-fifty pounds, with a thin layer of orange fuzz covering his blocky head, beady blue eyes, and knives strapped all over his body.

  “Hey.” He jerked his square chin at me. “What’s a rookie like you doing here?”

  “I’m here to see Foreman Crowley.” I met his scathing stare with one of my own, refusing to back down. I’d be out of here in an instant if I showed even an inkling of weakness. “What’s it to ya?”

  “We don’t let riffraff come in here to bother the boss,” Carrot Top said, folding his massive arms across his chest. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you if you can have it.”

  I curled my lip at him, refusing to be dissuaded. “I didn’t come here to talk to you, Carrot Top. Let me pass.” Stay calm, I told myself. Don’t let him rile you.

  Another enforcer stepped up to block my path—this one a brunette with a heavily made-up face, high ponytail, and a sword swinging at her leather-clad hip. “Move along, girly. This place isn’t for rookies like you. The Main Crew only takes the best.”

  I raked my gaze over her. “And you’re supposed to be part of the best? Don’t make me laugh. I could beat you in combat without breaking a sweat.” She was just a human, after all—no match for my shifter strength and speed.

  I tried to shoulder my way past her, but Carrot Top shoved me back. “You’re not getting past us until you tell me what you want,” he said. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed my curling fists, then added, “Think twice before you decide to use those. You might be a shifter, but you’re outnumbered here.”

  Dammit! I didn’t have to look around to know that every eye in the room was trained on me now. And there were a lot of eyes— from over a dozen people. My magic began to bubble in that secret place in the center of my body, and the amulet hanging from my waist grew warm in response. Fuck. The last thing I needed to do was lose control in a place like this, where every last person would jump at the chance to apprehend me.

  By Magorah, Sunaya, a voice whispered in my ear. You’re like a lamb walking into a den of wolves. What were you thinking?

  That I need a fucking job, and I want to stand for justice, I snapped back at it.

  “Look,” I said to Carrot Top, trying for a placating smile even though my fangs were aching to rip his throat out. “I’m not trying to cause trouble. We’re on the same side, right? And you don’t seem to have a lot of shifters on your crew.” This time, I did glance around—there were only three shifters in the entire room. “You guys could use someone like me. I’m more than ready to prove it.”

  The brunette laughed incredulously. “Oh, you came to beg the foreman to let you into our crew? Talk about naïve.” Her red lips curved into a cruel smile as she stuck out her boot. “Why don’t you get down and polish these with your tongue? Maybe if you do that for a month, I’ll consider putting in a good word for you.” Her scathing tone cut across my already-taut nerves. “Or not. We don’t need any more shifters. Why don’t I show you the way out?” Her hand drifted toward the knife in her belt.

  Before she could pull the weapon out, I punched her in the nose. Bone and cartilage crunched beneath my fist, and she shrieked as blood spurted from her perfect nose. Savage pleasure filled me as she stumbled back, clutching at her face with one hand. I danced out of the way as she hurled a dagger at my shoulder.

  “You bitch!” Carrot Top lunged for me, but I was too fast. His momentum sent him careening past me, and I kicked him in the knee to send him down. More enforcers surged out from behind their desks, and I drew my crescent knives, getting ready for a fight. I wasn’t going to let these assholes treat me like I was vermin. Not when I was stronger than almost all of them.

  “What is the meaning of this!” The door flung open, and Foreman Crowley came storming out. He was an imposing man, an inch shorter than Carrot Top, with close-cropped blond hair and pale brown eyes that burned with outrage. “This is an office space, not a fighting ring!”

  “She started it,” the brunette howled, jabbing a bloodied finger at me. She had a handkerchief clutched against her nose. “This rookie punched me in the face for no reason!”

  “That’s not true!” I started to argue, but then swallowed my words as Crowley stalked toward me.

  “I don’t know why you decided to come in here and disrupt my crew,” he said in a soft, deadly voice. “And I don’t care. No one harms a member of my crew without paying a price.” He grabbed me by my upper arm and began dragging me back toward the elevator.

  “Where are you taking me?” My bloodlust had faded completely now, fear pounding through my veins instead. By Magorah, was I about to lose my enforcer shield on my very first day over a stupid fight?

  “To Captain Galling, so he can decide your punishment.”

  I spent the rest of the morning cleaning the bathrooms on all four floors of the Enforcer’s Guild. Captain Galling told me I was lucky that Roanas had such a good relationship with the Guild, or my punishment might have ended up far worse. My cheeks burned with shame as I scrubbed the crusty toilets, and I prayed to Magorah, the shifter god, that Captain Galling hadn’t told Roanas about my behavior this morning. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stand going home, knowing that deep look of disappointment would be etched into the lines of his dark face.

  By Magorah, but why did I have to lose my temper like that? Yeah, so that brunette had been a total bitch, and she’d deserved that punch in the face. But Roanas had warned me countless times that some of the enforcers were bullies, and that I should ignore any taunts and provocations. By giving in to my emotions, I’d tossed any chance I had of joining the Main Crew straight out the window. Maybe I could still somehow squeeze myself onto one of the other crews, but it wouldn’t be any of the ones assigned to th
e big robbery case. No, those snobby bastards would stay clear of me now that I’d shown them I wouldn’t be reduced to a mere lackey.

  She wouldn’t have let you into the Main Crew even if you had licked her boots for a month, I assured myself. A stuck-up bitch like that would have just gloried in her subjugation of me, then kicked me to the curb when she had no use for me anymore.

  After I finished scrubbing the toilets, I went back up to the fifth floor and waited in the little reception area outside Captain Galling’s office for the next two hours. Lunchtime passed, but I didn’t budge despite my growling stomach. He’d told me that he was going to give me a case when I was through with my punishment, and to stay here until he called for me. I wasn’t about to piss him off by going to get lunch, even when a delivery boy came in with a box that smelled very much like orange chicken and pork-fried rice. My mouth watered as I watched the receptionist carry it into Captain Galling’s office, and it was all I could do to stay rooted to the couch. Several enforcers came and went, and each time one was admitted into the Captain’s office, I grew a little angrier. Was he deliberately torturing me?

  “Enforcer Baine,” the receptionist said, pulling me from my internal grumblings. “The Captain will see you now.”

  Finally, I thought but didn’t say as I rose. I thanked the receptionist, then walked past her desk to the door and opened it. Captain Galling’s office was surprisingly utilitarian, with none of the fancy trappings I’d expected from a man of his rank. A large desk and a file cabinet took up half of the space, shelves lined the left wall, and there was a cot in the corner, which I assumed he slept on when he had to work overnight. The only personal touches were a few framed photographs on his desk of his wife and children, and a couple of award certificates on the back wall from the various neighborhood councils in Solantha.

  The man himself sat in his chair, his hands folded atop his desk as he regarded me. He was a handsome, stern-faced man in his late forties, with a touch of salt and pepper at his temples, and crow’s feet that branched out from the corners of his blue-black eyes. Unlike the rest of the enforcers, he wore a suit, and the slight softness of his body told me that he hadn’t donned enforcer leathers in quite some time. I was startled to see an auburn-haired woman, who was maybe twenty-three, rise from one of the visitor’s chairs. As she unfolded her lithe body, clad in leather and weapons, I realized she was one of the enforcers who’d passed by me earlier.