by TR Cameron
Her mentor waved her hand. “That isn’t possible without years of training, and then only against the weakest-willed people. No, this is more about making them look away at a pivotal moment or perhaps hear something that isn’t there. It could even be to take actions, but not ones that would cause them extreme distress.”
Thinking back to the recent past, being able to make the Zatora thugs outside the nightclub think they’d missed them would have been extremely useful. Or to have the one guarding the back look the wrong way at the right time. “Is this more dependable than illusion?”
Emalia nodded. “There’s always the chance that an illusion will fail at the wrong moment or that it will be detected because it’s such a large and powerful spell. These magics are subtle and focused. As such, they are less likely to be noticed.”
Cali leaned back and folded her arms. “Great Aunt, you have an evil and manipulative streak in you that I didn’t expect but definitely appreciate.”
The woman across the table laughed. “You know much less about me than you might think, Caliste. So, is it your desire to learn the way of mental magic?”
The idea of messing with other people’s minds made her stomach squirm. It’s one thing to cast an illusion—that’s messing with the world, not with individual brains. This is a violation. I’m not sure what kind, but still. She was about to say no when she remembered the session with Ikehara. If she didn’t fully commit, he’d more or less said, she’d lose. And she couldn’t afford that, not with the number of people depending on her.
Cali took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Yes. I need to. So, where do we begin?”
Emalia smiled and looked pleased with the answer. “Where we always begin. Clear your mind.”
She went through the steps of locking down her whirling thoughts, pushing them into alcoves like the ones at the back of the Dragons, and sealing them in with police caution tape. The process was quicker each time she did it—which was far more often since she’d pushed herself onto the Atlanteans’ radar—and in a matter of seconds, she was ready.
Her teacher’s voice changed during lessons and became sterner and less understanding. It was a window into how she might have been as a younger woman before the confidence that came with age mellowed her. “Where before, you focused on changing the things around your subject, now you have to change them. I want you to concentrate on me. This is kind of like what we did earlier, where you sent a feeling or idea, but it’s different as well. Mental messages are a low-level version of this skill.”
She interrupted, “So I’ll be able to do telepathy after this?”
Emalia sighed. “Focus, please. Yes, with training, but that’s not the point of this session.” Cali apologized and put that exciting concept into an alcove with the others. “So. You want me to be distracted by something. If it only manifested in the real world, it might be noticed by those you don’t intend to affect, so you have to place it in my mind. More, though, you have to make me susceptible to it. I could simply ignore it. So, it’s two parts simultaneously. First, you change me so I’ll be primed to notice it and second, you give me the thing to notice.”
Cali closed her eyes and opened her senses. She could hear the other woman’s breaths and the way she adjusted her chair and could smell her perfume, along with a general sense of her presence. The scent drew her, and she sent her mind along the path to its source. As she did so, an image of her teacher built in her inner vision and gained resolution and detail as she moved forward. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced, and while she wanted to stay and investigate, the line she followed was too tenuous and fragile to permit any distraction.
She focused harder, now seeking a way into the figure before her. It changed and solid lines became a series of dots as she grew closer, giving her the key. It wasn’t about creating a specific entry point but about making her magic small enough to crawl into the spaces that already existed. She concentrated on planting the idea of the shop being open into her mind, then created the sound of the bell that rang when the front door was used.
When Emalia’s head twitched in that direction and broke into a smile, she felt it. It was less than she’d wanted but it was something, and for a first step, she’d take it. Her eyes opened to find a grin on her teacher’s face.
“Good work, Cali. Remember what you did because the experience is different for everyone. Your magic acts as an interpreter, translating the real world in a way that you can best interact with it. It’s unique to you.”
She laughed. “Yet one more thing that’s unique about me. I’m special, really.” The older woman chuckled in response, and Fyre snorted. She frowned at him. “Shut it, you. I don’t see you doing mental magic.” He opened an eye, winked it slowly, and closed it again.
Emalia said, “I’ve done some research at the library into Draksa. It’s actually quite unique that he can speak out loud. Normally, communication with them is through emotional resonance or, with the most intelligent ones, through a form of telepathy. It’s strange that he doesn’t use mental magic, actually.” Her voice turned playful. “If I had to guess, he thinks you’re not sophisticated enough to understand him if he tries to talk mind to mind.”
Cali huffed dramatically and stood. “I will not sit here and be insulted.”
Her teacher interrupted with a laugh. “Is that why you’re standing?”
She growled in mock annoyance. “I will neither sit nor stand here and be insulted. Let’s go, Fyre. There are people out there in the square who will actually be nice to us.” She extended her tongue at the older woman and drew more laughter. The Draksa climbed to his feet with a catlike stretch and ambled toward the door.
Emalia said, “Be safe, child, and continue to practice what you learned today. Come back as soon as you can, and we’ll work on more.”
Dropping the act, Cali replied, “You too. Keep an eye out for anything weird. Call me if you need anything—any time.”
Her aunt waved at her. “I’m more than capable of handling my own affairs. Off with you.”
She looked at Fyre. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be the person who thought she was merely an old lady who could be taken advantage of. Crispy-fried-bad-guy.”
The Draksa snorted, clearly amused. She opened the door to the sunny afternoon and strode out, already excited to see Dasante and what they could put together to entertain the tourists—some of whom would have the added experience of a little mind magic practice to go with their show.
Chapter Eleven
She made it through most of the evening shift without incident until the opening door revealed Tanyith. He wasn’t in nightclub wear today, only jeans and a t-shirt, which she thought of as his “real” clothes. I guess I don’t really know what’s real for him since I’ve only known him for a couple of weeks. He took a seat at the bar and began to chat to Zeb. The hunch in his back and the way he held his shoulders conveyed worry.
Cali made sure the customers near her were properly taken care of before she snaked through the loud crowd to join her friends. Tanyith had chosen a soda instead of one of the small glasses, which reinforced the idea that he was concerned about something. She slid into the seat next to him.
Zeb said, “We were waiting for you. He has some questions, and I thought you might be able to weigh in.”
The man turned to face her. “Do you know anything about the Stallion Bar?”
She shrugged. “It’s fairly low-key and doesn’t have the highest quality clientele. Definitely not a place for the tourists.”
The dwarf nodded. “I would describe it the same way. The magical council keeps an eye on it because it’s long been a place where humans who are…shall we say, less than accepting of others have gathered.”
Tanyith barked a laugh. “That’s a gentle way of saying human gang members, right?”
Zeb shrugged. “Another fitting description, sure.”
“Do you know whether the Zatoras have taken it over completely? And if so
, when?”
Cali frowned. “Why are you so hot on the Stallion?”
He sighed. “It’s a long and involved story, but the short version is that I’m being paid to look into someone’s disappearance. A magical, in fact, and that person was last seen hanging around that bar. It was a while ago, though. Shortly after I went inside.”
The proprietor shook his head. “That’s more than enough time for the trail to go cold.”
Tanyith nodded. “I’m aware of that. But it’s the only lead I have at the moment.”
She patted him on the shoulder. “Well, if you need an assist, I’m certainly willing to help you.” She paused to let the seemingly kind gesture sink in. “For a percentage. Sixty sounds right.”
The two laughed, and they all turned as the front door to the bar banged open. Two men entered, both of whom she recognized from the night they’d brought the gangs together at the Dragons. They were the ones who had accompanied the leader of the Zatora syndicate. One was thin and intelligent-looking but still carried an aura of danger. The other was clearly muscle. Both appeared to have weapons hidden under their jackets.
They surveyed the room with sharp eyes before one moved forward to stand near the bar and the other stepped aside from where he blocked the entrance. Their boss, Rion Grisham, stepped into the tavern with a sour expression. He wore a brown suit that looked more expensive than any ten things she’d ever owned over tan and brown shoes that probably cost as much as the rest of her wardrobe put together. His face was clean-shaven, and it would be easy to mistake him for a corporate executive if you caught him without his muscle at hand.
He walked forward and leaned on the side of the bar, putting him between Zeb and Tanyith from her angle. Her muscles tensed, and she realized belatedly that there was something about him that scared her. Maybe it was the way he’d yanked them off the street on a whim. Or maybe it’s that he has every reason to want revenge on us for breaking into his place. And he seems like someone who doesn’t make a habit of letting things go easily.
Zeb was smooth, as always. “Greetings, Mr Grisham. What will you and your friends have?”
The man responded with a thin smile. “Only words for now, Zarden.” He looked at each of them in turn. “Mr Shale. Ms Leblanc.” Their names came out like a threat—or a promise.
The dwarf asked, “Are you here to use the Dragons as neutral territory, then? No other factions are present at the moment.”
He shook his head and leaned in a little further as if to share information he didn’t want others to hear. “No, it’s you three I wish to speak to—and of.”
Damn. That’s not good. She met Zeb’s eyes, and he inclined his head slightly to the left, which she took as a negative reply. Okay. We’ll let it play out. She reached inside and touched her magic but didn’t bring it forward. The man between the door and the bar stepped six inches closer as if he, too, wanted to hear what Grisham would say.
The Zatora leader tapped his index finger on the wooden surface as he spoke. “That little trick with the disguises was quite clever. It threw us off the scent for a day but you couldn’t actually have thought we’d believe the stolen items somehow randomly wound up here. Come on, give us credit for some intelligence, anyway.”
Zeb shrugged and Tanyith remained silent. She did the same, although the snarky comment about his brainpower that had raced from her head to her tongue challenged her restraint.
“So, two disguised individuals came into my house and messed with my things, which wound up at this bar. It just so happens I had two people from this bar in my house not a week before. That kind of coincidence is difficult to ignore.”
Tanyith shrugged. “Still, the universe is a random place.”
Grisham showed his teeth in a grim smile. “I’ve built a career on believing everything is connected. Sure, there’s been a mistake or two along the way, but most of the time, it proves true. So I’m here to put you on notice.” He turned his head to face Zeb. “I haven’t decided what my response to the invasion will be. Maybe I’ll take a piece of the earnings from this place under the table so no one will think your precious neutrality is violated. You’ll hear my decision before too long.”
Her flinch at the man’s words caused Tanyith to touch her knee. The speaker didn’t seem to notice or didn’t care if he did. He simply returned his gaze to the two of them. “You two, on the other hand, had better stay out of my way. If I or one of my people sees you anywhere you shouldn’t be, you can count on it turning into trouble.” He raised a palm to stop her as she opened her mouth to speak. “Shh. Don’t say a word. You might live longer.”
He straightened, nodded to Zeb, and exited the bar. His lieutenants backed out behind him. They were silent until he had departed, then Tanyith sighed loudly. “Gee, that went well.”
Zeb shrugged. “It was inevitable. But it’s not worth worrying about, other than to take him at his word and plan accordingly.”
“So you think we should let him go?” she demanded. “Let him get away with threatening us like that?”
Tanyith stood. “No chance. Is there a back door out of here?”
After Cali had escorted him out, Tanyith used a burst of force magic to carry him to the top of the building two stories above. He recognized the same limo that had picked them up halfway down the street, headed in a different direction than the mansion. Excellent. Let’s see what you’re up to, Grisham.
He repeated the magic to launch himself from roof to roof, choosing vectors that would keep him out of sight of pedestrians and traffic below. When he had to cross a big intersection, he shrouded himself in illusion before he did so and hopefully ensured that he would seem like a ripple in the night sky if anyone noticed his passing. His skills in illusion and veils were not particularly impressive as he’d always been a charge in and meet the challenge head-on kind of person.
As he followed the car, his mind wandered and he considered the three women who populated his life at the moment. Sienna appeared to be the same as ever, and despite the hope that had prodded him to ask her out, he had changed enough that reconnecting romantically might be difficult. Cali had the potential to grow into a good friend, especially if they continued to do stupid things together. Her drive was completely unlike See’s go with the flow attitude. The fact that the young woman studied an indirect martial art seemed at odds with what he knew about her.
Finally, Barton was like a grown-up, jaded version of Cali—aggressive, no-nonsense, but smart and wielding a wicked tongue. Most of the time, he found her as abrasive as hell, but he had to admit her head was mostly in the right place. Except where his status as a former gang member was concerned.
He crouched on a rooftop when the car stopped at an unremarkable building among a cluster of old warehouses. It was three stories or so high with a peaked roof. The first level was all cement block and the second and third were constructed using metal sheets. The structure was entirely industrial and made a strange juxtaposition with the limo that stood outside waiting for an oversized garage door to roll out of the way. When it did, the vehicle pulled in out of sight and the rolling barrier closed ponderously behind it.
Tanyith could have made it inside with a leap and a dash and some magic, but he didn’t possess that level of impulsiveness. He resigned himself to a long wait for them to emerge. It made zero sense to investigate the location while they were present. He had finally found a comfortable place to sit when a thump sounded from across the rooftop. His adrenaline surged as he scrambled to his feet to discover the Draksa looking at him with its tongue hanging out.
Before he could say anything, soft cursing emanated from the side of the building and he peered over the edge to find Cali scaling the fire escape. When she reached the top, she pointed at Fyre. “You need to carry a climbing rope or something. Or maybe a saddle so I can ride on your back. I’m tired of running around dodging people and cars and trying to follow your scaly ass while you soar overhead.”
He snorte
d and she scowled at the creature again. She turned to face him and laughed at his expression. “What? You didn’t think I would let you handle this on your own, did you?”
Chapter Twelve
Cali hated every second of waiting for the Zatoras to leave the building but knew Tanyith was right—it was the smart play. That didn’t diminish the way it chafed against her nerves, though. The bastard comes into our place and threatens us? He needs to be taken down a peg or three.
She held rationality at arm’s length and let her emotions burn, hoping they’d consume themselves and allow her to think more clearly. Aiming for a balance of cold logic and hot instinct had always worked for her but right now, she had more of the latter than she needed. Scumbag. She shook her head and sighed.
The Draksa leaned against her where he sat on her left and pushed her into Tanyith. He pushed back, and she transmitted the motion to Fyre. They’d played this stupid game for almost fifteen minutes, and she was ready to kill them both. The slap she was about to deliver to both heads was preempted by the sounds of the garage door opening below.
Together, they snuck forward to peer over the edge. Sure enough, the limo was pulling away. She gave the building one more cursory scan to match the seven or eight she’d already done. It had no windows and only the garage door and one other entry point on the ground level. The peaked roof provided no clear access inside. Presumably, there’d be more on the far side but since that faced the river, they’d be more visible in their approach. Tanyith had agreed that to use the main door or the garage was the better way to go.
She led the others down the fire escape on the opposite side of the building, and they walked through the alley. Cali pictured two of the other Atlanteans she’d seen pictures of and created a hasty disguise over her and Tanyith, trusting Fyre to take care of his own visibility. They crossed the street at a slow amble, merely a couple of ordinary folks out for a walk in the deserted warehouse district. He raised a hand and the camera that slowly panned above the door froze in place, pointed away from them.
