by Ann Denton
She shrugs. “It was cool. Darrell used a lot of hieroglyphics to set spells and search for stuff. That was kinda fun. And he’s transferred me over to the Portalport group. Something about Bennett ripping them a new one for not pushing urgently to get some reports.”
I look innocently back to the front. No need to make more enemies. Becca doesn’t need to know that I told Bennett about that group’s lazy-butt attitude.
But, I still feel that anyone stripped of magic is a strong contender as a suspect in this case. I scoot closer to Becca. “Hey, you should look first at people the Portalport investigated and ruled against. If they blamed the Portalport for losing their powers, then maybe that’s why they stole them—”
“Will do, chickaroo,” Becca winks. “It would be a fitting punishment. You know, take the powers away from those who took them from you.”
“Definitely.”
Our whispered conversation is halted when Bennett turns back to the group at large. (He’s been catching Darrell up.)
“Okay people, quiet down. Darrell’s gonna give us a rundown on the spells that could drain and bind this level of magic.”
Darrell scratches his chin. (Is that even effective through layers of bandages?) “It would either be an ancient spell to be that powerful or else something very modern. If it was ancient, that would put it in the verbal realm. Pre-written word maybe. Some of our old spells are similar. But, if it wasn’t written, it would be long and complex. I can’t imagine anything less than a five parter to bind all the energy necessary. I mean, this would require days of prep work. If the spell is modern, and linked with some kind of algorithm, maybe it could run faster.”
Wow. So, either we’re dealing with someone who’s thousands of years old. Or with a super-genius. This is totally above my pay grade. How am I supposed to find someone like that?
I whisper to Seena. “You can be the Ranger on this one, buddy. Algos are your thing.”
He raises one arrogant eyebrow. “Giddy up.”
“That’s not what he says.”
Seena pulls out his phone and types real quick.
“It is now.”
He holds up his phone to show the open Witchipedia app.
“Show off,” I mutter.
“That’s cowboy to you, ma’am.”
I giggle. Then sigh. Seena’s the best. Why can’t I fall in love with a guy like him?
Chapter 12
I sit at a table behind the two-way mirror, waiting for Bennett and Flowers to come question Hal. Petey and Seena stand on either side of me, examining Hal, who’s pacing the length of the interrogation room. Becca said she wanted to go over the new files from the Portalport. She’s gonna miss out on all the fun.
Me? I open a trusty five-year-old government laptop because I’m still the report-writing slave for this case.
Hal’s wearing flower print board shorts and a striped shirt. He doesn’t know how to match his clothes, but he’s covered.
"Can't believe you found that guy," Seena says.
"Yup. In all his glory. Rutting with another shifter at the park."
"I'm jealous. So jealous." Petey laughs.
I shake my head. "What is it with Halloween?"
"Hormones can be as powerful as magic. It's breeding time for a lot of shifters. That's why I'm avoiding my family completely this year,” Seena chips in.
I turn to look at him. "But you're with Becca. They wouldn't—"
Seena shakes his head. "You aren't the only one with sucky parents, Fox."
I’m a little taken aback. I didn’t think horses would be so backward. "I didn't realize. Sorry."
“You think that’s bad?” Petey shakes his head. “My sire can mentally call me anytime, anyplace, and I have to show.” He taps his forehead. He pulls out a scroll. “I’ve got an emancipation scroll in my pocket. Just waiting for some special occasion. So, I can trick some judge or something into signing it for me. Freedom!” he holds the scroll aloft and pounds his chest.
“Oh, is this a competition now?” I pull out my phone. “Latest text.” I clear my throat so I can do an appropriate Bechette impression. “‘Marmalade Leaf brought Jackson flowers. Humiliated to tell her my own daughter did this to him. Thank you, Lyon. I hope you’re proud of yourself. You haven’t asked about your sister. She’s cried herself dry. Rain is dry. You’ve created a wonderful holiday memory.’”
Petey shakes his head. “Harsh.” He tosses the scroll at me. “Maybe you need this.”
I laugh but put the scroll in my purse. Because, you know what? I do need that. Just in case, like Petey said.
Seena jerks a thumb at the glass. "I think the guys are ready."
Bennett and Flowers enter the interrogation room.
"I bet five gold Flowers is the bad cop," I toss out.
Seena reaches out a hand and we shake on it. "You're on, Fox."
“Hal Scrofa?” Bennett asks.
Bennett shakes his hand. "We appreciate you coming in. This was your first roommate at the Tres Lunas City Hospital, correct?"
Flowers holds up a photo of Alvin Masterson and his pink curls.
"Yup."
The men all sit.
"Did you talk to him at all?"
“Yeah. We started talking chicks, you know? Told him I was going to bag twenty this fall.”
I turn to Seena. “Can we punch people in the face just for being worms?”
“I wish. I’d toss a couple cousins in that room if we could.”
Petey chuckles.
“What would be the Persian curse word to describe this guy?” I ask.
“Idiot. Bisho’ur.”
“Got it. Bisho’ur.”
That word proves highly accurate for the entirety of Hal’s interview.
I stare at the hospital dumpsters in disgust. They are overflowing with black bags stuffed as high as mountains. Can you believe searching them is better than the alternative?
“Hal is an unwashed diarrhea butt.” And I’m stupid for bringing him in for questioning. So stupid.
Down at the station, when asked why he ran from the hospital, Hal admitted he scented a female boar shifter in heat through the open window. “Instinct, man. Had to fry that bacon, if you know what I mean.”
Somehow, this answer removes Hal from the suspect list, for the male shifters questioning him, anyway. Personally, I think anyone who can make a metaphor about dead, cooked kin should be examined more thoroughly.
Hal told Bennett that Alvin Masterson had a visitor a few hours before death. A man. A tall man. Fae with big cheekbones.
Yup. I was behind the glass at that moment, watching the interview. I’m pretty sure everyone in the building heard my forehead hit the table. It was an attempted suicide, to be clear. Just not a well-thought-out one.
I pulled the photo of Jackson Rock, Rain’s new boyfriend/Halloween Board member, from Seena’s files and marched straight into interrogation.
Hal’s expression and nod were all it took.
My life is over.
I can feel the guilt spell from here. Four floors down, with a wall between us, my mother’s fury radiates and makes my knees shake.
Bennett and Flowers are up there now, questioning Jackson as he lays in a hospital bed.
It gets better. Not only did Hal indict my sister’s new squeeze, he said Jackson drank a soda during the visit.
“Which is weird man, because, it was like, a heated conversation. There was yelling and stuff.” —That’s a direct quote from the brainiac himself.
What happened to said soda? Oh, well, Hal threw the can in the trash can next to the victim’s bed.
From this glorious interview, Bennett’s come to the conclusion that the soda can must be spelled. It must be the murder weapon that drained Alvin’s magic and his life force. And we must find it. Now. (Smell the desperation? Or the fury? I’m not sure which it is. I don’t have a shifter nose.)
Hal can’t remember much about the second room. (I’m shocked.) Zanno w
as behind curtains. Hal doesn’t remember the guy having specific visitors. He just said, “Nurses and stuff are always coming in and out. It’s hard to keep track of stuff.”
I shudder as I remember Bennett turning to me with a hard gleam in his eye. “Fox, you brought him in. You find the can.”
So, here I am at trash mountain.
Seena stands next to me, an evidence collection bag in hand. “Hey, you could use your powers to lose all the soda cans in the trash into the parking lot or something.”
“And end up with a chicken leg again? Or worse, a wing? What if it spreads? I don’t know why that happened or how long it will take to go away. No thanks. I’m better off not using my freak powers.”
He shrugs, “We’ve all seen the chicken leg already. What’s so bad?”
I jerk a finger at the twelve-story glass hospital building. “My mother’s inside. I may be covered in spaghetti sauce. That’s explainable. The department may be making a mistake questioning her future son-in-law. A mistake I had nothing to do with if she asks, by the way. But to find out her magically useless daughter has suddenly gained loser powers that come with a chicken leg? I’m already the world’s biggest embarrassment.”
Seena peers at the dumpsters again, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Do you at least want to see if we can get some gloves? Maybe a biohazard suit?”
“Yes, definitely.” We tromp inside and head to a nurse’s station.
“So, how did Becca get out of helping us?”
“Darrell wanted her and Petey to keep going through with those Portalport files that came in.”
“I hope she can find something on the first page. Something that totally clears Jackson, so I don’t have to touch that nastiness outside.”
“How many pus-filled extra appendages do you think are in the trash?” Seena asks.
“You are a meanie.”
He chuckles.
Before a nurse arrives at the desk, I spot my coffee-buying janitor-friend. He’s in his nomex suit, pushing a mop with a bucket/wringer combo down the hall. The bucket is full of some very nasty orange water.
I pull Seena over to him. “Mr. Parker?” I ask, hoping I’ve remembered his name.
“Yes?”
“You don’t remember me. You paid for coffee.”
He smiles. “Least I could do for a fellow brow-beaten fae.”
“Sorry to bug you, but could I borrow some gloves?”
He glances at my spaghetti-covered t-shirt and yoga pants. “Aren’t you a little late for that?”
“The outfit’s a goner. I’m worried about my hands. And skin. I have to dig through trash.”
Bruce Parker shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Boss again?”
“You know it.”
“Follow me,” he leads us toward a utility closet. He pulls a key to unlock the door when it pops open and a dwarf with an NQN badge pops out.
“Melanie?” I’m taken aback. This isn’t her floor.
She looks startled and jumps back, bonking into the wall. She holds a clipboard to her heart. “You scared me!”
“What are you doing in there?” Bruce is ticked.
Mel sighs. “Inventory. Nasty’s making me go through each floor. She thinks someone’s been stealing stuff again. I think she just likes to make me do menial stuff because I have less magic than her.”
Bruce takes a step toward her. “Can I see that?” He grabs the clipboard out of her hand and scans it.
She grips her arm like he hurt her.
“You okay?” I ask.
She rubs her arm and I see a drop of blood. “Just a scratch, she pulls her scrubs down. No big deal.”
Bruce is oblivious as he flips through the sheets on the clipboard. “You didn’t mess with my seaweed, did you? They’re moving the kraken down here—against my advice—and I have to set up a whole new tank.”
Mel rolls her eyes and yanks her clipboard back. “I know, Bruce. The tank was too heavy upstairs. And no, I didn’t mess with the seaweed.”
I chip in, trying to lighten the mood. “Have you counted the socks? Those hospital socks are really the bomb. Anybody into really thick seams on the toe is gonna go bonkers for those.”
Everyone laughs.
“Why aren’t you working?” a deep female voice screeches behind us. We turn to see Nurse Nasty glaring. “They’ve got the kraken in the elevator. Get to it, fae.” She death-stares at Bruce. “That tank shoulda’ been finished half an hour ago.”
He grits his teeth. He looks like he’s about to do something stupid.
I grab Bruce’s forearm. “I’ll help. It’ll be quick. Then we’ll get back to searching the trash for evidence.”
Seena looks at me like I’m crazy.
“Not like the trash is going anywhere,” I shrug.
Bruce backs away from me. “Thanks. I can handle it. Stay here while I get the gloves.” I guess Nasty really gets under his skin.
I stand outside the utility closet while he goes inside.
Seena gets a phone call and heads outside for better signal.
Nasty pulls Mel down the hall toward the elevator, where I can see several staff struggling with the kraken. He’s a big black monster with glowing green eyes. He’s using his tentacles to brace himself inside the box, and they’re struggling to pull him out. Orange slime is getting everywhere.
Bruce takes a bit in the closet—probably cooling down from Nasty’s imperious bitchitude—so I wander to the open patient door to the right of the closet.
I peer down, down, down. It’s a tank full of briney sea water. I see a few fish swimming lazily around. This must be the room that’s been prepped for the kraken.
I lean over to take a closer look at the fish, which makes it very easy for someone when they shove me into the water.
Chapter 13
Like an idiot, I scream instead of holding my breath. Water sears my lungs and ironically, it feels like fire. And now there are fish fluttering against me and I’m flailing. My arms are fighting, jerking, trying to turn my body around so my head is up. But my clothing weighs me down. My shoes feel like bricks. I’m sinking.
I fight. And kick. Somehow, miraculously, I struggle to the surface. I get the world’s tiniest breath before a huge current lifts me up and swirls me under—current? There aren’t currents in tanks.
I smash into a huge tentacle-covered arm.
Fuck.
The kraken’s in the tank.
My heart starts to double-time as a sucker latches onto my thigh, another to my knee, my calf, my ankle. The tentacle wraps around my leg like a vice. It pulls me. I’m getting reeled in.
I’m about to pass out in fear. Pretty sure I’ve peed myself. Can’t tell, but pretty sure.
This is it folks. Do kraken have teeth? Oh, I hope they have some kind of deadly poison that comes first—my thoughts are spastic in my last moments.
Suddenly, my tongue is scraping the roof of my mouth like sandpaper. The kraken releases me, and I fall to the bottom of the tank. My ass smacks the floor and I see stars. It’s a second before I can think—Huh? Where’d the water go? Why’d I fall?
My eyes feel like raisins. It’s so dry. Did they drain the tank? The kraken cowers next to me, gasping, its glowing green eyes staring up at … my sister.
Rain stands in the doorway, her silver hair billowing around her like some damned superhero. The water in the tank hovers at the ceiling. A fish flops next to me, then stills.
A wave sweeps me up from behind. It carries me up to the door, where Rain grabs my forearm and yanks me into the hall. I hear the water she was holding aloft splash back down into the tank.
I stumble.
“What the actual fuck, Lyon?” Rain slams me into the wall and pins me with her arm against my neck.
I wheeze. I try to talk but my mouth’s too dry.
“Dammit.” She turns away and waves a hand. Instantly, water from the air seeps back into my pores and I can breathe, see, think again.
&nb
sp; I drop to my knees. That’s a mistake, as it just coats my pants in orange kraken slime.
“Someone just tried to kill me,” I pant.
“Well they can get in line! Do you know what you’ve done? Jackson’s totally gonna break up with me—”
“No.” I struggle back to standing. This slime is sticky. And I don’t have time for Rain’s breakup drama. Something worse is going on. “Someone pushed me into that tank. They tried kill-kill me. Not your kill me. But kill me.”
Rain rolls her eyes. “You are so dramatic. And selfish. I’m sure you saw me coming down the hall and probably jumped to avoid me, like the idiot you are. Your boss told me you were down here. Too scared to go upstairs and face Mom? You should be.”
I ignore her. Think, Ly. Think. I was waiting for gloves, so I could go dig through the trash. And then—
Seena bursts in from the exterior doors. He comes toward me at a full run. He slips on the slime and slides down half the hallway, skidding to a stop at Rain’s feet. He rights his glasses and looks at me.
“Oh, thank goodness,” he holds his heart. “I thought you were dead.”
“How’d you know about the kraken?”
“The kraken? What? No. I mean the fire outside.”
“What fire?” I stumble toward the nearest window.
Across the parking lot, all the dumpsters are ablaze.
I turn to stare at Seena. This is bad. So, so bad. “Coitus!”
I grab Rain’s hand and stumble down the hall to the exterior doors. I push Rain through and stumble after her. Seena follows.
“Put it out!”
She pulls her hand out of mine. “You can’t just go demanding things—”
Suddenly sparks shoot out of the trash can like fireworks. White hot flame jumps in a column toward the sky. We all jump back. More sparks fly and it’s beautiful. Until projectiles start shooting out of the garbage. Black flaming masses hurl into the sky.
We run inside for cover. We have no choice. As we shut the doors, Bennett, Flowers, and my mother come tumbling out of the elevator, each eager to be the first to the party. Or tripping on monster slime.
