by Alex Steele
Currently employed by Juno Corp.
Residence: Turnberry Place
Each of the pictures I tapped on told the same story. Prosaic. Quit abruptly. Employed by Juno Corp. They all lived in one of three buildings on the Las Vegas Strip, and those places did not come cheap. There was no way they could have afforded that on their previous salaries.
"These are just the ones that live in Las Vegas. I'm still working on identifying people that I think are involved in the other major cities, starting with London," Swift said, appearing at my shoulder. She stared at the board tiredly. This wasn't something she had put together in a day, she'd been working on it for a while.
"How long have you been looking into this?"
"Ever since you told me what...our friend said. It wasn't until this morning that a few things clicked."
“They’re all prosaics,” I said, scrolling through the list to see if there were any exceptions. As far as I could tell, there were none. “Why would this organization be interested in prosaics?”
"They're not the usual suspects. Some drug rings will use kids to smuggle their goods, but a prosaic to carry magical drugs is just as good. No one would look at them twice." She ran her hands through her hair, tucking it behind her ears. "The only reason Adam Johnson ever popped up on our radar was because an agent overheard him trying to make a sale at that bar. It was a total fluke."
She was right, the information that led us to him had been a fluke. I had gotten suspicious of flukes and coincidences though. Too many of them had turned out to be the work of Fate lately. From what I could tell, the self-proclaimed god didn’t want us looking into this though. Perhaps it really was a stroke of luck.
"Have you found anything on Juno Corp?"
She huffed. "Nothing helpful. They're a front for something else, I'm sure, but I have no idea what. I'm used to tracking down magical artifacts, not sorting through shell corporations. We're going to need some help."
I shook my head. “This isn’t something we can bring anyone else into.”
“I know you like to work alone, but that’s not always possible. This isn’t a two person case. If this is as big as I think it is, we’re going to need a task force,” Swift said, exasperated.
“If this is connected to who we think it is, we’ll never make it that far.” I walked over to my desk and plopped down in the chair, my exhaustion returning. When I’d first started with the IMIB it hadn’t been like this, or I’d at least been blissfully ignorant of the corruption. The job had been a dream come true. It let me make a difference. Every case had been an adventure, and I had been the hero of my own story.
My eyes strayed to the drawer that held the ledger Murray had sent me with names of people I couldn’t touch. I’d failed that kid and I was failing more people now. There had to be a way forward; I wouldn’t just accept defeat.
“If we’re going to crack this, we need to figure out the why. We know the what, and the who, well enough,” I said finally.
“Money has to be part of it,” Swift said, staring off into the distance.
“They have plenty of that.” I hesitated, a thought tickling at the back of my mind. “The one thing money can’t buy is power. Literal power. Magic. Maybe this is part of some kind of experiment?”
Sighing, she turned around and grabbed her trench coat, pulling it on with angry motions. “They’re definitely coming up with new ways to kill people.”
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“We are going to talk to the idiot that changed Griswold, who just happens to be the alpha of the pack associated with the emblem on the hoodie the guy who dropped the drugs at the gym wore.” She turned around and put her hands on her hips. “You are not going to use a single drop of magic, or I will hit you in the face again. Harder this time.”
“These are staying on. I’m not suicidal.”
She muttered something under her breath I couldn’t quite catch, then swept past me to the door. Before opening it, she turned around for a moment, pinning me with her gaze. “After this, we're talking about what happened."
I scratched the stubble on my jaw, which was halfway to a proper beard now. Talking about what had happened sounded unpleasant, but that wasn't a request. "Okay."
She jerked the door open and I followed her out with a deep sigh.
Thirty-Four
There was something seriously wrong with this pack. Werewolves generally had a sense of honor if nothing else. They were also very sensitive to smells, and therefore prized cleanliness. Looking around at the discarded trash, piles of cigarette butts on the counter, and rotten food in old Tupperware, I was starting to think maybe the whole pack was on drugs.
“Now, are you going to tell me what you want?” Alpha Kevin Jacobs, a gangly man with thinning hair and a beer belly that hung over his jeans, yanked open the fridge and grabbed what I guessed was his fifth beer of the day. It was some brand of lycan-brew –– alcohol specially formulated to let a shifter actually get drunk.
“We recently arrested an unregistered werewolf named Griswold. He said you changed him,” Swift said, holding up Griswold's mugshot.
The alpha shrugged indolently at the mention of an unregistered werewolf in his pack. “Go ahead and fine me then. We both know that's not something you can arrest me for. It's also not something they normally send IMIB detectives out for either.”
“Unregistered shifters aren’t normally connected to murders and drug dealers,” Swift challenged, holding the alpha’s gaze.
Jacobs snorted. “Well isn’t that wild. Nothing to do with me though. Maybe Griswold got mixed up in it after he paid me to change him.”
“He paid you?” I asked, raising a brow.
“Five thousand in cash,” Jacobs confirmed with a nod. “I changed him, he turned down joining the pack which was fine by me, and then I never saw him again.”
The guy was blatantly lying, which was no surprise. It was, however, annoying.
“It’s interesting you say that considering we have proof he came here at least three times a week since you changed him,” Swift said, clocking her head to the side.
A muscle twitched in Jacobs’ jaw and he took a slow drink of his beer, his eyes never leaving my partner. “You sure are asking a lot of questions for someone who has all the answers.”
A humorless grin spread across my partner's face. “Maybe we should go to Moira to have this conversation so you can work on your honesty problem. I've found an interrogation room tends to spur people's memory.”
The alpha stood slowly, tension clear in his movements. “That's not going to happen.”
As soon as he said it, I felt something in the air shift. The floorboards creaked behind us. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw three pack members walk into the small room. My fingers twitched as I unconsciously reached for my magic. The cuffs warmed around my wrists in warning and I released it quickly.
This was going to be bad if we couldn’t get out of here peacefully.
Swift’s eyes never left Jacobs. “Do your friends want to come too?”
“I’m not much of a fan of Moira these days,” Jacobs said, rising from his seat. “We’ll be staying here, but you are certainly welcome to leave.”
The silence hung between us as Swift stared down the alpha. No one dared even take a breath.
Slowly and purposefully, Swift reached into the pocket of her trench coat and pulled out a pair of cuffs. A growl rose from Jacobs’ chest, and everyone exploded into movement.
I hadn’t walked in here completely defenseless. However, the baton I pulled from my waistband wasn’t exactly my weapon of choice. It was slower than my katana and less lethal, but it was effective enough against a shifter.
Electricity crackled as I extended the baton with a sharp flick. A short, stocky woman leapt at me, her hands shifting into claws. I ducked under her swipe and hit her in the gut with the baton. Her body jerked and she hit the floor, the electricity overwhelming her senses and shifter strength.
There was no time to make sure she was down before the second werewolf, this one half shifted, hit me like a battering ram. There was too little room in this apartment to get proper distance between me and the attackers.
Twisting to keep the werewolf from driving me to the ground, I flipped the baton around and jabbed it backward, catching the shifter in the leg with a glancing blow. He yelped, but it wasn’t enough to take him down.
The alpha flew through the air just inches away from us, closely followed by an enraged Swift and her mace. The distraction allowed me to catch the werewolf with an elbow, knocking him back a few inches. I swung the baton up and hit him in the arm.
The female werewolf I’d knocked down before was back on her feet, but instead of running toward me, she yanked her alpha up and they both sprinted out of the apartment. Swift followed them and I focused on the two werewolves left, who were circling me.
I wrapped both hands around the baton, holding it like a baseball bat. If they wanted to get in close, I was ready to take their heads off.
They both paused abruptly, their half-shifted ears perking up at some sound I couldn’t hear, then turned and ran for the windows. Without a moment’s hesitation, they threw themselves through the glass. It was a four story drop but that wasn’t high enough to seriously injure a werewolf.
I raced after them, sliding to a stop as I looked down at the drop. The fire escape was close by. I could make the jump. Probably.
They were halfway down the alley already and disappearing around the corner. If I was going to chase them, I had to do it now.
I hopped up into the window sill and crouched slightly, adjusting my feet on the bits of glass still clinging to the frame. With a deep breath, I leaped for the fire escape. My hands closed around the rusty metal and the whole thing creaked, swaying ominously.
Scrambling over the edge, I raced down the rickety stairs. There was no way this thing was up to code. Somehow it managed to hold together until I made it to the bottom.
I ran as quickly as I could down the alley, keeping the baton ready in case this was a trap. There was no sign of the werewolves when I rounded the corner though. I raced down the side street, hoping to catch up to them. I couldn’t believe they’d just run. Most shifters chose to stay and fight when they were cornered like that, especially if they outnumbered you.
Swift ran out in front of me and slid to a stop. “Did you see them?”
“No, the ones I was chasing went that way,” I said, pointing straight ahead.
“Dammit!” she shouted, kicking a can across the alley.
I retracted the baton and put it away. “It’s weird for them to have run like that.”
“It was smart though, which isn’t what I expected. We underestimated them.” Her mace disappeared with a pop. “Let’s get back to Moira. This was a waste of time.”
She was right about that. Maybe if I’d been able to use magic, we could have arrested at least one of them. I wasn’t going to be able to put off learning how to deal with this.
Thirty-Five
We were barely out of the elevator when Bradley’s door swung open. He peeked his head out and waved us inside.
With a sigh, I followed Swift into his office. A chat with the Chief was the last thing I needed right now, but he wasn’t exactly big on being told no.
He waited for us to shut the door and sit down before turning to face us. There was a single stack of paperwork on his desk about a foot tall, but the usual clutter had been cleaned off. He even wore a nicer suit than usual, and his mustache had been trimmed recently. It was barely bristly at all.
Crossing his arms, he looked at both of us with a carefully blank expression. “The Mage’s Guild is taking over your current case. Your case files will be automatically transferred in the morning. Anything not recorded in the System should be added immediately.”
He didn’t raise his voice, or chastise us for anything. He simply stated it like he was commenting on the weather.
Swift stiffened in her chair. “Sir, I have to object. We’re finally making progress. What’s their justification?”
My magic churned under my skin at the unexpected news and I had to bite down on my tongue until it bled to keep from losing control in that moment, despite the dampening cuffs. It seemed to be tied to my anger. That knowledge did nothing to help me regain control though.
“They’re claiming jurisdiction. Feel free to read their warrant if you have the time,” Bradley said, gesturing to a foot-tall pile of paper. “The decision is final, and I don’t have time to discuss it. Your new case is being sent over. There was a murder in London, looks like it might be related to some illegal magical artifact, so you’ll feel right at home Detective Swift.”
“Is there no way to appeal this decision?” Swift pressed on, unwilling to let this go.
“I spent the last week appealing that decision. However, I was unsuccessful. You will not be permitted to try again.” His mustache twitched as his irritation finally began to emerge. “And I better not hear about you two trying to go over my head on this.”
“Sir, with all due respect, this isn’t a case we can just give up on. We’ve put in weeks of work and––”
“I have already communicated all of that to the powers that be, and was turned down. I know the arguments. I know why you want to keep the case. It is not an option.” There were no winks this time. No subtle clues to keep going. Bradley just seemed tired and beat down. I’d never seen him like this before and it pissed me off.
Swift kept arguing but I tuned them both out, trying to focus on my breathing instead. The mayhem magic stirred inside of me, whipped into a frenzy by the unexpected anger, and the sense of injustice.
“Blackwell, what the hell is wrong with you?” Bradley’s voice cut through the blur in my mind.
I forced myself to stand, though my hands were shaking with the effort of holding back the magic. I wanted to destroy something. Anything.
“Shit, Logan, hold it together,” Swift said, suddenly close.
I forced myself to focus on my surroundings. Chief Bradley was looking at me with concern and irritation. The latter wasn’t all that unusual, but the concern definitely wasn’t an expression I normally saw on his face.
“I have to get out of here. Now.”
Swift grabbed me by the arm and pushed me toward the door. “I’ll take care of him.”
“I don’t want him back here until he has that under control.”
“Yes, sir.”
Thirty-Six
We made it out of the IMIB offices before the magic started to snap around me. The dampening cuffs grew blisteringly hot, burning my wrists as they struggled to contain the mayhem.
Swift kept a firm grip on my arm as she guided me through the streets toward the Rune Rail. “Keep it together, Blackwell.”
Bradley saying the case had been taken from us kept playing over and over again in my mind. The anger stoked the fire of the magic raging inside me.
“Not sure that’s going to happen,” I said through gritted teeth.
As we approached the entrance to the Rune Rail, the magisters looked up, eyeing us warily. Swift slowed and looked back at me, her expression worried.
“Stop looking like you want to murder someone and keep walking,” she whispered.
“I'm trying.” The problem was, part of me did want to murder someone right now. Or bring the Rune Rail down on that magister's head.
Ten feet from the entrance, Yui appeared. She charged me and I didn’t even try to dodge. I was barely managing to walk.
As she collided with me, her hair flowed around us like a veil. For a moment, there was nothing but darkness and the flowery scent of her shampoo, then my back hit a wooden floor. We slid and rolled to a stop against a wall.
She pushed up off of me, her face flushed with exertion and her lips pressed together in irritation. “You idiot. What were you thinking trying to walk into the Rune Rail in your condition? The valkyrie
would have turned you to dust.”
I looked around and realized we were no longer in Moira. We were at Master Hiko’s house. “How the hell did we get here?”
“I transported us. This guardian thing does come with perks. As does gaining another tail,” Yui said, standing and smoothing out the wrinkles in her yakuta. She hadn’t been wearing that when she tackled me. One day, I really needed to figure out how her magic worked.
“Wait, where is Swift?” I asked, pushing up to a sitting position and searching the room for her.
“I left her. I could only take you because it was necessary to keep you from dying. Swift will make her way here just fine, I’m sure.” Yui flipped her hair over her shoulder and headed toward the door. “You should probably go speak to your Master. He felt you arrive.” She snorted, and muttered, “The whole damn city probably felt you arrive with the way you were broadcasting your magical signature.”
I pulled out my phone and called Swift. This was bad enough without her thinking I was dead or something. She answered immediately.
“Blackwell?” she snapped, sounding more angry than worried.
“Yui took me to Master Hiko’s, and no, I don’t know how,” I explained quickly.
Swift sighed. “Are you still about to lose control?”
“No, I feel weirdly calm,” I said, frowning. Now that I thought about it, I was actually just really tired. Either the journey had drained my magic, or Yui had done something else she hadn’t mentioned.
“Stay there. I’m coming to get you,” Swift said.
“You can come, but I actually need to talk to Master Hiko. He was the one that helped me get control of my magic the first time. I think I need his help once again.”
“Alright, see you there.”
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and shook my head, trying to clear the fogginess. Rubbing my aching wrists, I realized the dampening cuffs were gone. I wasn’t sure if Yui had taken them, or if they’d simply been destroyed. It was best not to think about it too hard.
