Magic and the Shinigami Detective

by Honor Raconteur

  Seaton, running now at my side, laughed. “Immunity spells sure are something.”

  I didn’t roll my eyes, I needed to keep a clear line of sight, as I obviously had no intention of following Edwards’ exact path. Because I was not insane. Still, the urge to smack sense into these two was strong.

  Rounding the corner of a sagging porch, I finally got eyes on Edwards again just in time to watch her put on another burst of speed. Hinks panicked, throwing every attack spell that a college dropout could at her pursuer. It bounced harmlessly off Edwards, thanks to the Immunity Spell, and did nothing to bar the inevitable.

  Edwards tackled the woman to the ground like a wrestler, sending them both crashing to the ground.

  “Good show!” Seaton called to her, slowing his pace and casually tossing out a binding spell on Hinks.

  I offered Edwards a hand up, which she took, her eyes still on the struggling woman wriggling about on the ground like a worm on a bait hook. I regarded the thief as well, glad to see her finally restrained.

  Behind me, something wooden gave a dying screech as it toppled, making an ungodly racket. I turned to see the last of the house Edwards had crashed through collapse in on itself. Then I turned a look of disbelief on my partner, who didn’t seem at all the worse for wear, aside from a few tears in her jacket.

  Catching my expression, she shrugged, hands splayed innocently. “What? They’re slated for demolition anyway.”

  “I think,” I tried very hard to frown and not laugh while saying this criticism, “that you rely on that Immunity Spell in ways that you should not.”

  “Maybe,” Edwards drawled.

  Tears of either frustration or rage poured down Hink’s cheeks and she nearly shook under the force of her emotions.

  Seaton hauled her up, expression impassive, like a statue. “Will you come peacefully?”

  “Ain’t got no choice, do I?” she spat. Turning her face away, she stayed still, still vibrating, as if wanting nothing more than to run again.

  Edwards strode forward, pulling a set of cuffs from her pocket and slapping them expertly onto each thin wrist. “I’m honestly surprised to find you still in town. You must have realized that your gang was caught yesterday when they didn’t show up last night. Why didn’t you run then?”

  “We were supposed to split up afterwards, each go a different direction, then meet back here within a day. Shake whoever might be on our tail. I knew you’d caught some of them, but I thought at least one escaped.” Shaking her head in disgust, Hinks sneered, and the expression aged her ten years. “Useless, the lot of them.”

  No honor among thieves, indeed. She’d only waited because she herself had not been part of the heist and thereby had no loot from it. I felt distinctly unsympathetic to her plight.

  Seaton apparently echoed my sentiments as his face became hard. “Sydney Hinks, I arrest you for violations against the Magical Code of Ethics. You’ll come with me peacefully or be gagged and restrained. A councilor of the law will be appointed to you if you cannot afford one.”

  Hinks stared at him, defiant but with a thread of exhaustion in her tone and stance. “Let’s just go.”

  Seaton took her by the elbow and ushered her out toward the waiting Kingsmen. I watched them go and couldn’t help but think it was such a waste. Hinks didn’t have much in the way of magical ability but she clearly had talent for engineering. Her Ghost Gun was marvelously intuitive. No one had invented anything like it. Why couldn’t she have applied that talent in a more constructive way?

  With Hinks in custody, Seaton doubled back and asked, “No one’s hurt?”

  “No, but gentlemen,” Edwards planted her hands on both hips, mouth set in a peeved line, “we need to have a little talk about keeping out of my sightlines. You both went directly in front of me. I could have gotten a shot off if you two weren’t in the way.”

  I’d been so focused on protecting Edwards from that Ghost Gun that this hadn’t occurred to me. It should have. She was a trained fighter, after all, of course she had a good chance of shooting Hinks.

  Seaton, I felt gratified to note, looked just as abashed. Appeased that we saw her point, Edwards continued in a less clipped tone, “If we’re to work together in the future, then we obviously need to train with each other. I don’t want this kind of bungling to happen again.”

  Wait, she expected this situation to happen again? Or something like it? I felt horrified at the thought. There was far too much running in these types of scenarios; surely we could plan better for future arrests.

  Seaton, on the other hand, perked up like a puppy with a new bone. “Training together sounds splendid. We’ll get together and decide on a time and place, alright? I need to go and make a formal report now.”

  “Go, go,” Edwards encouraged. “And I can practically hear what you’re thinking, Henri, and no, you can’t plan your way out of chasing down the bad guys. Criminals run, it’s what they do. You’re going to have to start jogging with me in the mornings.”

  I was an intellectual. Intellectuals did not mindlessly run about without a purpose. “We’ll see.”

  Snorting, she let this go. “I, for one, will sleep better with them all behind bars.” Clapping a hand to my shoulder, Edwards led the way back toward the car. “Thanks in advance for all of that report writing, partner.”

  Groaning, I realized that I would indeed be stuck writing reports all day. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but being sleep deprived as I was, it would be an onerous chore. “I’m dragging an anchor and you want me to think for both of us?”

  “Dragging an anchor?” She frowned at me, her pace slowing. “I thought that meant impeding someone else’s work.”

  “It also means when you’re too fatigued to work properly,” I explained. “I think you owe me a second breakfast if I’m to be doing your typing.”

  “Second breakfast? What are you, a Hobbit?”

  Here we go again. I stopped on the cracked sidewalk and gave her a quirk of the eyebrow. “And what, pray tell, is a Hobbit?”

  Linking her arm in with mine, she pulled me along toward the car. “Ah, Henri, that will take some time to explain. It involves little people, magical rings, orcs, and volcanoes. Allow me to begin the epic tale of The Lord of the Rings.”

  Since I found all of her stories vastly entertaining, I fell companionably into step with her. “Does this epic tale involve breakfast burritos?”

  “Just for you, Henri. Just for you.”

  This idea might be ill-advised.

  I stared down at the carrier in my hands, doubting my instincts all over again. I had only a vague description to go off of, this might not even match what she missed from her home world. And this type of gift was normally reserved for close family or lovers, which I am neither.

  A plaintive sound came from the carrier and I growled in response. “Yes, I’m aware that I’m being indecisive.”

  “Move,” a voice commanded in a high-pitched tone.

  Tosser. Why did I decide to do this?

  A little voice in the back of my head trotted out all of the arguments like a litany: Because you’re afraid that she’s too terribly alone. Because you know that she’s having nightmares regularly but doesn’t feel secure enough with you to come for comfort or help. Because you want her to feel like she belongs here—that even if things are a little different, there’s still a place for her here.

  I ruthlessly informed myself to shut up. It wasn’t helpful. All of these…these…feelings were deucedly inconvenient. I didn’t even understand what I felt half the time. Sometimes I wished I could outsource emotion or at the very least scoop it out into a bowl and pass it to Edwards and ask, ‘What is this, because it’s possibly ruining my life and I think it’s your fault?’

  “Move,” the voice commanded again, with an edge of a growl in the tone this time.

  Drawing in a breath, I commanded my insecurities to go jump into a snake pit. Whether this was a good idea or not would be determined shortl
y when I arrived on Edwards’ doorstep and presented the creature.

  Before I could have any further time to reconsider, I marched out of my apartment, upstairs, and to Edwards’ door. I gave the door a firm knock as if to belie my own uncertainties.

  As usual, she answered within seconds, throwing the door open wide, a smile automatically lighting her face. “Henri. To what do I owe the pleasure? And what’s this?” Her eyes drifted down to the wooden case in my hand.

  “I’ve brought you something,” I said unnecessarily as I stepped inside.

  “I can see that, but what is it?”

  Without a word, I knelt and opened the case on the floor so the creature could step out. I barely watched his exit, instead acutely tuned to Edwards’ reaction.

  Her eyes took him in within a split second and then flared wide with surprise, jaw unhinging. “Th-that’s a cat!” she spluttered.

  So this did look like the creature she missed? I felt a little better hearing that.

  Before I could utter a word of explanation, she dropped to the ground, nearly on her belly as she reached tentatively out with her fingers.

  The Felix stepped further toward her, dainty nose sniffing rapidly before he touched it to her skin. Proving that she was indeed comfortable with creatures barely eight pounds, she stretched a little further and crooked two fingers under his chin, scratching gently. A rumbling sound erupted from the Felix’s throat, which I took to mean approval, judging by the way the creature’s eyes gently closed to half-mast.

  “He’s darling,” she whispered, completely transfixed. “Such a sweetie, aren’t you?”

  The Felix blinked at her, apparently decided that he liked this human, and went right into her arms, extending his front paws so that he could make it easier to be lifted. Edwards did promptly that, scooping him up and stroking his fur in a rhythmic way that had him purring even harder.

  That expression of absolute joy and wonder on her face eased every concern I had. She loved him instantly. I breathed a little easier.

  “Henri,” she breathed, eyes finally coming up to mine, “He can’t be natural. He’s purple.”

  “Magical construct,” I confirmed for her. “His creator was Royal Mage Jules Felix, hence his breed name: The Felix. When you gave me the description of the cat you missed, I thought it rang a bell, but it took me a little time to properly research why it sounded familiar. The Felix was designed some three years ago, and it’s not a wide spread pet, as normally only magicians are inclined to have one. As a familiar, generally.”

  “A magical construct?” Edwards peered down at the creature so blissfully content in her arms. “So, does he function more like an animal or a magical artifact?”

  The Felix finally deigned to take part in the conversation. “Animal.”

  Edwards jumped, nearly dropping him. “Wait, you talk?!”

  Giving her a patented you-are-being-obtuse look, the cat ignored this and rubbed impatiently at her hand. Edwards automatically resumed rubbing behind his ears.

  “He’s intelligent enough to have conversations with, but usually not inclined to do so,” I informed her. “The Felix’s inclination is to be lethargic. While he will demand affection, as he’s doing now, often he’s content with his own company as long as he has a sunny spot to lie in. They feed off of sunlight. As long as you provide him with clean water, he’ll manage himself just fine.”

  Edwards stared at me hard. “As long as I provide him? You seriously brought him here for me?”

  Something about the way she looked at me made me bashful for a moment. I shrugged and looked away, unable to meet her eyes. “He’s yours, if you care to keep him.”

  “Of course I do, but—whoa!” Edwards startled again when the Felix abruptly turned in her hands and dived toward the floor. She stared at him as he walked off and huffed out a breath, amused. “Clint it is.”

  I followed just fine until this last statement. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Character from Earth, Clint Barton. He’s famous for wearing purple, having a smart mouth, and jumping off high perches at random. The cat reminds me of him, in personality. So I’ll call him Clint.” With no warning whatsoever, she threw her arms around me and drew me into a tight hug.

  For a moment, I floundered, then my hands naturally found their way around her back so I could return the embrace. The pattern of her breaths indicated she might be crying but I felt no tears against my shirt.

  “You brought him to me because you wanted me to feel less alone here,” she whispered against my ear. “You went to find him to give me someone to come home to.”

  “I’m afraid for you,” I answered in response, the words pulling their way free. “I want to give your heart some stability. I don’t want you to feel alone here.”

  “Ah, Henri,” she pulled back enough to smile at me, eyes bright with unshed tears. “How can I ever feel alone when I have you?”

  My heart gave a painful squeeze in the best possible way hearing those words from her. Again, I felt flooded with emotions that I couldn’t label, certainly didn’t know how to manage, but I knew that I wanted to feel them again. I’d do anything to keep that look of joy on her face. “Should I send him back, then? Since I’m sufficient.”

  Edwards threw her head back and laughed. “Don’t you dare! I’m keeping you both.”

  I found myself not displeased at the idea of being kept by her.

  With a quick kiss against my forehead, she whispered, “Thank you.” Only then did she retreat enough to give us a foot of space between us, but her hand caught mine, drawing me further inside. “Come, sit, tell me more. How in the world did you find him?”

  Following her lead, I settled on the couch with her, a Felix situated comfortably between us, demanding attention from us both, and found myself perfectly, blissfully content.

  Days of the Week

  Earth – Draiocht

  Sunday – Gods Day

  Monday – Gather Day

  Tuesday – Brew Day

  Wednesday – Bind Day

  Thursday – Hex Day

  Friday – Scribe Day

  Saturday – Rest Day

  Months

  Earth – Draiocht

  January – Old Moon

  February – Snow Moon

  March – Crow Moon

  April – Seed Moon

  May – Hare Moon

  June – Rose Moon

  August – Corn Moon

  September – Harvest Moon

  October – Hunter’s Moon

  November – Frost Moon

  December – Blue Moon

  Werespecies: werehorses, wereowls, weremules, werefoxes

  Carmine berries: NOT A STRAWBERRY, JUST NO. CAN WE SAY GAG.

  Honor Raconteur grew up all over the United States and to this day is confused about where she’s actually from. She wrote her first book at five years old and hasn’t looked back since. Her interests vary from rescuing dogs, to studying languages, to arguing with her characters. On good days, she wins the argument.

  Since her debut in September 2011, Honor has released over a dozen books, mostly of the fantasy genre. She writes full time from the comfort of her home office, in her pajamas, while munching on chocolate. She has no intention of stopping anytime soon and will probably continue until something comes along to stop her.

  Her website can be found here: http://www.honorraconteur.com, or if you wish to speak directly with the author, visit her on Facebook.

  Table of Contents

  Report 00: Shinigami

  Report 01: Evidence Locker Break-in

  Report 02: My New Partner

  Report 03: Sanderson's Stupidity Jamie's Additional Report 3.5

  Report 04: The Sink

  Report 05: Spectral Energy Defined Jamie's Additional Report 1.5

  Report 06: My Upstairs Neighbor

  Report 07: The Second Theft

  Report 08: Gathering Clues Jamie's Mission Report: Success!

>   Report 09: Astonishing Acquaintances

  Report 10: Good Intentions

  Report 11: New Techniques Jamie's Additional Report .9

  Report 12: Ghost-Hunting

  Report 13: Thefts

  Report 14: Emergencies

  Report 15: Terrible Patient Jamie's Additional Report 15.2

  Report 16: Work Stops For No Man

  Report 16.5: Family Dinner Jamie's Additional Report 16.7

  Report 17: The Comeuppance of Doctor Sanderson Jamie's Additional Report .20

  Report 18: Fruitlessly Footsore

  Report 19: Collaboration

  Report 20: Unpleasant Meetings

  Report 21: Dinner With The Captain

  Report 22: The Heist

  Report 23: Interrogations

  Report 24: No Honor Amongst Thieves

  Final Report

  Jamie's Notes to Herself

  File X: Author