by Alex Steele
Swift paused in front of me and looked around as though she was listening intently to something. "Do you feel that?"
"Feel what?" I asked, my senses going on high alert.
"The magic lingering in the air. It feels like it's coming from above us."
I looked up and finally noticed it. I'd been so distracted by the surroundings I'd missed it. "That seems like a bad sign."
She turned and ran up the stairs. I sprinted after her, alarm bells going off in the back of my mind. The feel of magic only grew stronger as we neared the top floor.
The stairwell dumped us out into a narrow hallway. It was silent up here and there was no sign of a struggle, but the feeling of wrongness hadn't gone away.
"Which apartment?" I asked quietly
Swift pointed toward the door on the left at the very end of the hallway. She held one hand out and summoned her mace. Vibrant, pink magic swirled around her arm as it formed.
I put one hand on my katana and walked toward the flat. We stopped on either side of the door. I knocked loudly, but there was no reply and no hint of movement in the room.
I nodded at Swift and she turned and kicked it in. It worked this time. The door flew open, smacking into the wall.
Inside, the flat was a huge mess. There were scorch marks on the walls and ceiling. Books were scattered across the floor like an avalanche, their torn pages fluttering in the breeze of a lopsided ceiling fan. A single twin mattress lay in the corner, its stuffing ripped out.
Swift stepped over a pile of debris and walked slowly toward the tattered couch. I turned in a circle, looking over the damage to the kitchen.
"Shit."
I whipped around. "What?"
"I found him," Swift said with a deep sigh.
I hurried over to her and looked over the back of the couch. His body lay on the floor next to a mess of spilled food. His head was gone.
Kneeling next to the body, I touched the back of my hand to his arm. His skin was still slightly warm. "He hasn't been dead that long."
"It can't be a coincidence that he was killed the day we came to see him." Swift pressed her lips together in a thin line.
"I agree," I said, pushing back up to my feet.
She turned away and raked her hand through her hair angrily. "I'm an idiot. I should have been more careful with my questions."
I grabbed her arm. "Hey, this is not your fault. You had no reason to suspect someone would try to kill him just because you looked up his name."
She jerked her arm out of my grasp. "We need to call in a team to process the crime scene."
"I don't think we should."
"What? Why not?" she asked, confused.
"It's just going to turn into a cover up or get pinned on us. He was clearly assassinated. Probably by the Mage's Guild. We also shouldn’t be working this case at all."
"We need to know who killed him, and why," Swift protested. Her face went pale as something occurred to her. "Yamashita. She's in danger."
I pulled my phone out and dialed Bootstrap. He answered immediately.
"Whassup my dude––"
"Masako Yamashita is in danger. She needs to get out of her house right now. Do you have her phone number?"
There was typing in the background, then a beep. "I've texted her and I'm hacking her surveillance system as we speak."
My hands tightened on the phone. "What do you see?"
"Hold on." There was more typing, then a low whistle.
"Well?"
"It looks like a tornado went through her place. Damn, I can't believe they tore apart that couch, that was a nice sectional."
I wanted to strangle him. "Is she there, or not?"
"No. There's no one there. Her security system shows the front door has opened twice in the past hour. Once right after you two left, and again twenty minutes later. All surveillance before ten minutes ago has been erased remotely and I can't get it back."
I took a deep breath and tried to think. There was a chance she'd gotten out before the assassins showed up. "You need to find her. Someone killed Patterson, that other name you got us. They're after her too."
"Oh crap. Will do. It's going to take some time though if she's trying to stay off the grid."
"Just do it as fast as you can, alright?"
"Got it, boss man."
I hung up and shoved my phone back into my pocket. Swift looked like she wanted to punch something.
"She may still be alive."
"Or she may have been kidnapped to be interrogated." She looked away, still holding onto the mace with a tight grip. "This is worse than we expected. We have to be more careful going forward."
I looked down at Patterson's body and sighed. "Yeah."
If we called this in, there would be questions we couldn't answer, and the case would eventually disappear. The only other option was not appealing, but I wasn't sure we had much of a choice.
"I want to go back to Yamashita's house and see if we can figure out who came there to kill her, but I don't know what we should do about..." I waved my hand at the corpse.
Swift put her hands on her hips. “I think we have to leave it and go. We can’t draw attention to the fact that we were here.”
I nodded. “Anything that keeps me from needing to smuggle a dead body out of here, I’m down for.”
Sixteen
Yamashita's house looked exactly the same from the outside as it had when we'd arrived the first time. Quiet, secluded, and well-kept. Now, however, the door was unlocked and the wards that had protected the house were gone.
Swift pushed the door inward and we walked inside, listening carefully for any sign that there was someone still here. Bootstrap had assured us the place was empty. There could still be a trap though.
Just like at Patterson's flat, we could feel the magic in the air. The floor was littered with paper and her other belongings. They'd turned this place upside down. I'd thought most of the damage at Patterson's place had been from the fight, but it was obvious now that whoever had killed him and showed up here had been searching for something.
We split up, searching each room until we were sure there was no threat remaining. The house was small, only two bedrooms, the sitting room, and a bathroom.
I walked into the sitting room and looked around. The picturesque windows had been shattered and the table flipped over. This was destruction for destruction’s sake. Perhaps they'd been angry they couldn't find what they wanted, or perhaps they wanted to scare her. I hoped, once again, that she had gotten out in time.
"It's clear on this side!" Swift shouted from across the house.
"Same here!" I shouted back, relaxing slightly.
As I walked farther into the room, magic tingled over my body. I tensed, but I could feel the friendly intent. A rune glowed on the floor and I felt it recognize me. There was a single drop of liquid in the center of the rune. It looked like tea. Yamashita must have set this up using the last drop of tea from the cup I'd drunk from.
There was a soft snap and a note popped into existence right in front of my face. I held my hand out and it fluttered down to my palm.
I unfolded the thick parchment. Her handwriting was messy, as though she'd written the note in a rush.
Trust no one.
箱を破壊する
"Did you find something?" Swift asked from behind me.
I turned and nodded, showing her the note. "Yamashita left a note. It was tied to a rune that triggered when I walked in. She knew we'd be back."
Swift hurried over, setting her mace down on the floor next to her. "What does it say?"
"Here," I said, handing it to her.
She read the note, her brow pinched in confusion. "What does the Japanese say?"
"It says ‘destroy the box’," I said, baffled.
"What box?"
"I have no idea. The first part of the note makes sense, but we don't have a box," I said with a shrug. "Perhaps it's what the people that killed Patterson are l
ooking for? Maybe she's assuming we know where it is."
My phone rang and I checked my caller id. It was Viktor.
"Blackwell," I said, answering the phone.
"We need to talk, tonight," Viktor said, sounding even more tired than he had before.
"We can come right now," I said, getting Swift's attention and nodding toward the door.
"No, don't come to the coroner's office. We should meet somewhere else. There is a restaurant on level twenty-three near the Edge, on 35th Street. Do you know it?" Viktor asked.
"Yes. What time will you be there?"
"In an hour. Don't bring your partner."
I stopped in my tracks. "Why not?"
"I will see you in an hour, Blackwell." He hung up without answering my question.
I shoved my phone in my pocket with a sigh. This was the last thing I needed right now. Viktor had instantly hated Swift, and I still had no idea why. This was more than that though. He didn't trust her.
"What was that about?" Swift asked, taking a picture of the sitting room.
"Just a personal thing. I've got to head back home after we get back to Moira. Do you need me at the office tonight?" I shouldn't be lying to her, but I doubted she'd let me meet with Viktor without her. I didn't have the time or energy to debate it, we had more important things to worry about.
She shrugged. "I guess not. We're at a dead end anyhow."
I nodded and headed out to the car, guilt settling in my chest. The secrets were piling up and I was starting to understand the decision Master Hiko had made. First, there had been the prophecy I couldn't bring myself to tell her about, and now this.
I wasn't nearly as angry at my old mentor now as I had been the night he'd finally told me the truth. It had taken a few days, but I'd realized that I wasn't mad at Master Hiko because he'd lied to me about my parent's deaths. I was mad because I'd thought he was perfect, and that he had all the answers. But he wasn't. And he didn't.
Once I'd realized that, I had been left with nothing more than a childish disappointment that my last remaining father figure was human, and nothing more. It looked like I was just as imperfect.
Seventeen
This area of Moira wasn't flashy. The buildings were boxy and utilitarian with few windows and no paint to hide the gray concrete they were constructed from. When Moira had first been settled, these were the practical structures those pioneers had lived in. Now, they belonged to the people who lived and worked in Moira.
This district had predominantly Russian inhabitants. Viktor had once mentioned that he lived here despite being able to afford a better apartment because he preferred the simplicity. I found it depressing, but to each their own.
I spotted the small sign that noted the location of the restaurant Viktor had asked me to meet him at. There was no welcome sign or neon light to declare the restaurant open. It was a place for locals, not tourists.
I pushed open the door and was blasted with raucous laughter. Three men that rivaled Viktor's stature were standing on the bar, arms linked together, singing in Russian. Their ruddy faces confirmed they'd had quite a bit to drink already.
This was...not what I'd expected Viktor to choose. I pulled the door shut behind me and scanned the room for the necromancer. A few curious faces watched me, but no one seemed bothered by my presence. I finally spotted Viktor in the corner at a small table. There were two large mugs of some amber liquid set on the table. He nodded and gestured toward the seat across from him.
I wove through the tightly packed tables and made my way over, plopping down tiredly in the chair. "This seems like a fun place."
Viktor snorted. "It's loud, but they have good drinks."
I eyed the pint suspiciously, but grabbed it and took a drink. It'd be rude not to. As soon as the liquid hit my tongue, my eyebrows shot up in surprise. I'd been expecting alcohol strong enough to put hair on a woman's chest, but this was good. And non-alcoholic.
The drink was sour, but I could taste honey and another familiar flavor that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
"What is this?" I asked, staring down into my mug.
"Kvass, an old family recipe," Viktor said, already having drained half his glass. "It's not alcoholic, even children drink it."
I took another sip, then set my glass down. "That's great, but you didn't ask me to come here without my partner to introduce me to a new drink."
Viktor nodded and drew a quick rune, casting a sound barrier around us to keep the conversation private.
When he didn't immediately speak, I asked, “Why don't you trust my partner?”
His already unhappy expression grew more perturbed and his brows drew together in an angry line. “She is a Swift. Whatever sob story she gave you to gain your trust doesn't matter. She will side with her family if forced to choose between you and them, and she will be forced to, at some point.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Her family was trying to kill her. She wouldn't side with them on anything.”
He waved my argument away. “That's normal in those old families.”
“She has already chosen to do what's right over loyalty to her family, and almost paid for that deceit with her life. She's not loyal to them. You're wrong.”
“Yet you didn't bring her here tonight. You must have some doubt.”
“I doubted you would talk to me if I had. I trust Lexi.”
Viktor sighed deeply. “I suppose you will find out which of us is wrong eventually. For your sake, I hope it's me.”
“Me too.” I took another long drink, wishing the kvass actually was alcohol strong enough to put hair on my chest.
“I reviewed the video of the interrogation, and you're right, the man you brought to me did appear alive.” Viktor looked truly disturbed by the concept. “I have never seen necromancy used this way.”
“Are you sure it's actually necromancy? Is there a different kind of magic they could have used to make it seem like he was dead? Or have him decay faster?”
Viktor shook his head. “Necromancy is unmistakable.”
“That orb must be the key then,” I said, thinking back to the man's reaction to it. He had been completely desperate. It must have been keeping him seemingly alive. He didn't act like he knew it could kill him too. I sighed and leaned back, looking at Viktor. “All of this is stuff Swift could have heard.”
He nodded and tapped the side of his glass. “The drugs this man sold, they bring in a large profit for the dealers.”
“Yes,” I said, getting impatient for him to get to the point.
“I used to be a part of that system,” he said, finally meeting my eyes. “I worked my way up, and was eventually allowed to transition into other work, and then was given a job as a coroner at the IMIB. Do you understand?”
I ground my teeth together. I understood. And I didn't like it. “Who controls all of this?”
He smiled, but it was humorless. “Lady Swift, the Lord Chancellor’s wife.”
“Do you have proof?”
“No, she's not stupid enough to leave proof, but it was known to those of us who made it high enough up in the ranks who we worked for. If someone important was arrested, they didn't stay that way.” He looked away, shaking his head in frustration. “Even now I receive orders from the Mages Guild to ignore certain cases, or pieces of evidence. I do what I can, but I have no plans to die, so there are some orders I can't ignore.”
“Why are you helping me at all?”
Viktor’s face darkened and he looked away, seemingly lost in a memory. “I have my reasons.”
“I need you to share those reasons. This is a lot to take on blind faith.”
Viktor snorted. “I am tired of it. It was never my intention to be trapped as their slave my entire life. I’ve grown sick of it recently and found that I have reached my limits.”
“Fair enough.” I took a drink, thinking through all the implications of what I’d just learned. “Is this case going to disappear too?”
Viktor
shrugged. “I deleted all identifying information from the system. That should give you some time to keep looking into that informant’s background.”
My jaw fell open. “I thought you weren't planning on getting yourself killed.”
“I'm not. That's why I'll leave the dirty work to you.”
I snorted. “Gee, thanks.”
He smiled at me, looking a bit like a wild bear. “Let me get you a real drink, for courage.”
“Make it something strong.”
Viktor nodded and got up. I leaned back in my chair and shoved my hands in the pockets of my jacket, only to hit something smooth and slightly crumpled. I didn’t remember putting anything in that pocket.
I pulled it out and found a perfectly white square piece of material. It wasn’t quite paper, but it wasn’t cotton either. I flipped it over and saw an intricate rune drawn on it. That was...odd.
Eighteen
I’d told Swift to meet me in Las Vegas. After the meeting with Viktor last night, Bootstrap had been able to track down a lot of information on our undead drug dealer. The guy had gone from an underpaid office worker in a big corporation to fairly well-off overnight.
He’d quit his job without notice, then moved into a loft in downtown Las Vegas a few days later. If that wasn’t suspicious, I didn’t know what was.
There was one name that kept popping up in association with his. The guy had a long list of arrests, and, lucky for us, an outstanding warrant for unpaid parking tickets. Once Swift got here, we could go pick that guy up and start unraveling who Adam Johnson had worked for, and where he’d gotten that orb.
Viktor might have deleted what he could from the system, but I didn’t think that would hide the case forever. We were working on borrowed time.
A familiar magical signature pricked against my awareness. Swift had a bad habit of not completely hiding hers when we were working, so it was easy to tell when she was nearby.
