by Ally Shields
Ari stepped outside the lab into new flurries of snow. She zipped her coat higher and stuck her hands in her pockets. She tucked her head and started walking up the street, not paying much attention to her surroundings until a police cruiser pulled alongside her.
Ryan lowered the window. “Need a ride?”
“You’re just the person I was going to see.”
“And I was looking for you. Hop in.” He reached over and opened the passenger door. “I thought I’d go back to the cemetery, take another look around for tracks leaving the area.”
“Then we better hurry. If this snow picks up, it will coat everything.” She brushed the flakes off her shoulders, slid in, and closed the door. “I have a name for you to check. Jacob Deerling. He’s a halfling demon who works for the magic lab.”
Ryan gave her a sharp look. “You think he’s our guy?” He picked up his police radio.
“No, not really. But it’s odd he shows up just months before the arsons. He claims he doesn’t have any fire ability, but he might be lying.” She shrugged. “I’d feel better if I knew for sure.”
She stared out the window while Ryan called in the information. As they arrived at the cemetery gate, he hung up the police radio, and Ari got out. She stood for a moment, then squared her shoulders. Returning to the scene had brought it all back. She almost expected to see Gerhard step out from behind a crypt.
She reached out with her magic, found nothing, then slowly scanned the area with her eyes. She noted the disturbances in the snow caused by the fight and later by the police and magic lab crews clearing away the evidence and the bodies. It was a mess. She headed directly to the back of the cemetery. If there were clear footprints, they’d be back there.
She stopped, puzzled. The snow was unbroken except for animal tracks. A rabbit, a pair of deer that had jumped the fence. “I don’t see anything.”
Ryan shaded his eyes against the snow glare. “The arsonist could have hidden until the fight was over, then gone out the front gate.”
“It’s possible, I suppose.”
They retraced their footprints toward the front gate.
Ari came to a sudden halt. “What an idiot I am.” She clenched her hands into fists. “There was no halfling. It was Gerhard. He’s a fire witch. He led us here, waited until the warriors drained my magic, then popped back in to bind my powers.” Ari fumed, furious with herself. She must have been more rattled by last night’s events than she’d realized. She—of all people—should have known.
“I guess that would explain everything.”
They drove to Ryan’s office, and Ari sulked over a cup of coffee. “I can’t believe I screwed up like that.”
She must have said it more than once, because Ryan called her on it. “Don’t take this wrong, Ari, but it’s time to suck it up.”
She shot him a black scowl. It didn’t faze him.
“I mean it. Instead of all this pissing and moaning, let’s figure out what we do about it.”
“Geez, Ryan. Don’t hold back on my account.”
“I don’t intend too, unless you stop pouting.”
She slumped back in her chair. “I’ve been struggling. But Gerhard is my problem now. There’s no mystery for the police department to solve, just catching the culprit. Even if he’s still around, I think the city’s buildings are safe. He started the fires to attract my attention. Well, he has it.” She glared at her coffee cup. Gerhard might have gotten a second chance in Germany, but not here. The next time they met, one of them wouldn’t be walking away.
Ryan leaned back in his desk chair. “Last I heard warlocks could be captured or killed. That sounds like police work to me. Don’t even think about shutting me out.”
She shifted uncomfortably. “That wasn’t what I intended. But this situation feels pretty personal.”
“He’s just another criminal who needs locking up.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Her head jerked up. “But that won’t happen if I don’t start thinking like a cop. Sophie told me something important. She said Gerhard couldn’t have teleported all that distance over the ocean. He’d have to fly in and out of the country. She told me to check the airlines.”
Ryan grabbed his phone. “I’ll start the ball rolling, checking passenger lists. It might at least tell us if he’s still in the country.”
“And how long he’s been here.” Ari was on her feet, pacing. “I don’t think he’s left. Wouldn’t he want to watch me suffer?” She heard the sharpness in her voice and stopped to rub the tightness in her temples. “Sorry. I’m making it personal again. I’ve got too damned much on my mind.” She told him about Daron’s call, the contracts on their lives, the rumored visit by the O-Seven.
“No wonder you’re tense. But isn’t Gerhard on the O-Seven’s payroll? If they’re coming, why send him?”
“Maybe they didn’t. I think he’s here on his own…looking for revenge.” She frowned. “But why didn’t he kill me instead of binding my powers? He’s like a cat playing with a mouse.” She shook her head and paused in her pacing. “Except this mouse doesn’t have a safe hole. I can’t hide, so I have to find a way to fight or outsmart him. While you start those checks, I’m going home to meet Andreas. He’ll be up soon, and we can visit Zylla. I’m counting on her to tell us about this book of demon lore.”
* * *
Zylla scrunched her eyes as if Ari’s question had brought her pain. “It is an evil book. Taken from our safekeeping long ago. Why would you ask me about that wretched thing?”
“We don’t mean to distress you.” Andreas hastened to soothe her. “But we suspect the Maleficus is being used against us by a powerful warlock. We only want to know how to defeat him.”
“I know, I know. I loathe that thing, but never mind.” Zylla waved her objections away. “Please sit, and tell me everything that has occurred. Mangi will pour the tea.”
The teenage werejavelina bobbed his hog-like head. “It will be my pleasure.”
Despite the seriousness of their errand, Ari threw him a smile. Zylla had taken Mangi in when a renegade band of werejavelinas had infected and abandoned him. Most javeys were vicious, uncouth creatures, and without Zylla the community would have thrown him out. His good manners were all Zylla’s doing.
Ari thanked him when he served her. “You make a great butler.”
Mangi snorted, ruining his dignified image. “Don’t push it,” he growled, but he winked as he said it.
“In another hundred years, he might be sufficient.” Zylla’s tone was indulgent. “Now, you were saying…”
Ari settled cross-legged on the cave floor and explained how her fire magic had been bound, their belief that Gerhard had used the ancient book of demon lore, and her hopes of finding a counterspell. “I’ve been told I must have the exact words of the binding spell in order to undo it.”
Zylla bent her head in agreement. “That is what I was taught. Even then, casting a counterspell will be difficult. This is the darkest, vilest of devil magic. It requires a blood sacrifice and unusual power. More than you or your coven possess.”
“I know.” Ari dropped her gaze and spoke softly. “Even before Gerhard came, my magic wasn’t working.”
“What do you mean?” Zylla’s gaze sharpened.
“It didn’t warn me about the warriors until it was too late, and not a twinge about the warlock. I’ve always felt some sense of danger. Often days or weeks before something happened.”
“You should have mentioned this lapse to me before. It changes everything.”
Ari’s face pinched with distress. She’d known it. Her magic had gone sour.
Scowling, the vampiress compressed her thin lips and continued. “It is Andreas. He is interfering with your magic.”
“That can’t be true,” she blurted. “Everything’s been fine until now.”
Zylla raised an admonishing hand. “His newly awakened magic is like a wild thing. It must be tamed, brought under control.”
He swore u
nder his breath, reaching out to place a hand on Ari’s arm. She covered it with her own. Her feelings were mixed. Relief, yet frustration with an impossible situation. “Then what do we do?”
Zylla shrugged. “Work together, as soon as he gains control.”
“But you said I could channel for both—”
“I was wrong.” Zylla interrupted her and gave Andreas a pointed look. “You must master the warlock magic, make it yours, or you will continue to weaken Ari’s power.”
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration covering him like a second skin. “I have tried. Damnation, I cannot believe this is happening. I don’t know what more to do.”
“Practice your skills, but most important, find your family heirlooms.”
His sigh was heartfelt. “How? We have searched. You might as well tell me we need a cup of moon dust. It would be easier.”
“Nevertheless, it must be done.” Her gaze moved to Ari. “To unbind your fire, you will need the spell from that horrible book. Have you found it?”
“Our magic lab is searching. I skimmed through a partial translation, but didn’t find anything that would apply.” Ari hesitated. “A couple of things I don’t understand. Sophie said the conjurer must have demon blood. Does that mean he must have demon blood in his veins, or is demon blood some kind of ingredient in the spell?”
“The demon blood is used in the ritual. It has nothing to do with the sorcerer’s bloodlines. I have a vial myself, when you need it.” Zylla almost smiled. “That wasn’t hard. What else troubles you?”
Ari paused, almost afraid to jinx the situation by asking. “I’m not complaining, but why aren’t my other magic abilities bound by Gerhard’s spell?”
Zylla lips widened in a smile this time. “You are making me look very wise with these easy questions. He didn’t bind them all because he couldn’t. So he targeted the one you depend on.”
Ari started to interrupt.
“Let me explain,” Zylla went on. “Binding spells are very complex. Different spells are required for each of the four elements—fire, wind, earth, and water. Even after centuries, the Witches’ League and the Magic Councils have been unable to blend them into one spell. The Maleficus has four separate binding spells, and Gerhard chose the one that would make you the most vulnerable.”
Ari hated to ask, but she needed to know. “Did you see this coming?”
“No, child. I have told you my visions are imperfect. I see some things but not all, and often they are only possibilities. I had warned you that someone would change the course of your lives. Perhaps it was Gerhard, perhaps not, but I see more trouble in your future.” She included Andreas again. “Your magic, Andreas, is part of one possible solution that could influence the fates in your favor.”
He jumped on her words. “Does that mean there are other solutions?”
Zylla spread her hands wide. “There are always possibilities.”
Andreas frowned. “Your words are too vague.”
“Patience, young prince. The fates will reveal all in time.”
His frown deepened. He didn’t believe the fates decided everything.
Ari intervened. “Can you tell us more about the Maleficus? Where did it come from? How did the vampires get it? And why haven’t they used it before now?”
Zylla’s laugh was the brittle cackle of an old woman. “So many questions, but I will answer what I can. It was believed to have been written in Hell, stolen and brought to earth by a full-blooded demon. In 1039 during the witch-vampire wars, it came briefly into the hands of the witches. Then the O-Seven stole it from us and have kept it hidden away.” She described its terrible powers inflicting pain and death, and told of the human sacrifice that many spells required. “The vampires have not used the book, because they can’t. They can twist your mind every which way, but they cannot conjure spells.” Her lips twisted in distaste. “They were forced to wait until a witch came along who was corrupt enough to join their cause.”
“You mean Gerhard.”
“Yes.”
“I wish we had killed him,” Ari muttered.
“All happens as it should.” Zylla’s tone was mild, matter-of-fact. “To rail against fate is a waste of time.”
“Doesn’t change my wishing it,” Ari grumbled.
Andreas’s laugh held a sharp edge. “Nor mine.” He turned to the vampiress. “I hope you’ll excuse our poorly concealed frustration. Gerhard is only the beginning of our trials.”
When he told Zylla about the impending visit from the O-Seven, she acted more thoughtful than alarmed. “So this may be one source of the danger I have seen. Interesting that it is Bastian who comes, don’t you think?” Her brows dipped, as if she was examining some inner thought. “I am positive that has great meaning, but I do not know what.”
* * *
“Interesting visit but not much help.” Andreas sidestepped a branch brought down by the heavy snow that had fallen over the last hour. There was almost no traffic and certainly no one else walking the streets of Olde Town. “I had hoped for more.”
“At least she clarified the bit about the demon blood and explained why my other powers were untouched.”
“Does that help us?”
“Well, I’m going to be super careful from now on. Just in case Gerhard learns another spell and comes back to finish the job.”
Andreas stopped and grabbed her arm. “You think he might do that?”
“How would I know? He’s pissed off. He might do anything.”
Andreas put his arm around her shoulders. “We should get you someplace safe.”
“And where would that be?” They walked in silence as the snow covered their tracks. She leaned against him. “I wouldn’t leave Riverdale without you.”
He didn’t argue, but she noticed he didn’t agree either. Ari sighed, hoping he wouldn’t make it a big issue. She wasn’t leaving. They’d have to come up with a solution…together.
The witches in Germany had taught her new skills in the other elements, and her earth magic had developed quickly. She could build on that. The question was, would it be in time?
Was Gerhard lurking out there in the dark? Were new contract killers already in Riverdale? Were the O-Seven representatives on the way? Enemies appeared to be gathering.
Fear stabbed at her heart, and she increased her pace. Andreas automatically matched her stride. When they reached the club, she kissed him goodbye. He held her just a little tighter than usual. “I should come with you.”
She shook her head. “I need some space.”
Silence. Then, “OK. Take care.” His voice was husky, but that was all he said.
“You too.” She walked briskly toward the door, pulled out her cell, and called Ryan. “Got plans this evening?”
“Nothing I can’t change. What’s up?”
“My Walther and I need an outing at the shooting range, and I’m picking up a second pistol on the way.”
“Double draw, huh? I’ll meet you in forty-five minutes.”
It didn’t take her long to choose a second handgun. She loved her Walther PPS and selected another of the same brand. She insisted on holding several until one felt just right in her hand. Superstitious? Maybe. But guns had personalities too. She wanted one that worked with her, not just for her. Since she already owned a shoulder holster, she found a rig that fit snug at the small of her back. It was hard to decide between it and the pocket holster, so she bought both. A second magazine and four boxes of silver bullets later, she walked out the door feeling more prepared than she had before.
The snow had finally stopped, and she made decent time to the firing range. She’d called Ryan for two reasons: she hadn’t been to the police range before and he could get her in without a fuss, but more importantly, Ryan was a crack shot. She had plenty of experience with guns, but these were new, and drawing from a holster wasn’t easy. She could use a few pointers.
They practiced for more than two hours. The back draw was awkward
at first. It became quicker over time, but not exactly what she wanted. Ryan frowned on back holsters in general.
“They’re unwieldy and dangerous. In close combat it’s too easy for your opponent to grab it.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t use one.”
That was enough for Ari. She put the back holster aside and concentrated on faster draws from shoulder and pocket. Under the right circumstances, she might tuck the pistol into her back waistband without a holster.
The new Walther proved to be a good purchase. After three sets of eight targets she hit the bull’s-eye almost as often as Ryan. By set five, she didn’t miss. Her prior years of training and practice paid off. Then they switched to moving targets and the competition began.
Ari clenched her teeth in determination. Ryan had bet her four beers he could take out more bad guys than she could. Sounded easy, except you also had to avoid hitting the innocent citizen silhouettes that kept popping up. So far neither had made a mistake, although she’d come close to shooting a shopkeeper.
Ryan dropped his shooting hand and patted his pocket, then stepped back from the firing line and pulled out his cell phone. Ari finished the round before joining him and taking off her earmuffs.
“Work?” she asked.
He put his hand over the phone. “It’s the airport. They think they found Gerhard on the passenger lists.”
“Finally, a break. Was he coming or going?”
“Coming. From New York to Chicago to Riverdale. One-way.”
“Under his own name?” She was incredulous.
“No, he made a token attempt to avoid discovery. Listed himself as Heinrich Worman. But the description fits, and they’ve spotted the guy on the airport cameras, so you could take a look.”
