His sister had come into her power scarily early, showing signs when she’d turned eight. Dev, hitting puberty, had just been taken aside by Monty for the talk. The one about sorcery, not bees and birds. That one the school took care of. The other one was Monty’s responsibility. Before Dev had come to grips with these newfound abilities, Lana was leaping into it with both feet and loving it.
Too strong and too young, Monty used to say, when Lana burned ahead of his instructions, but she wouldn’t stop. If Monty refused to help her, she went out and found someone who would. Some of it she just worked out for herself.
Then she’d found the spell.
It was an old one, from a defunct caste of sorcery. A spell that had never been successfully cast. Those who had tried, hadn’t survived. Her nimble mind had worked it over, puzzled it through and made adjustments, until she said it might work, but none of them dared try it.
The reworked spell became the family secret.
Then, somehow, Friedrich had learned about it.
The white BMW pulled up and Dev put the file away, climbing in.
“What exactly did he say to you?” Erin asked, letting the car idle.
“Basically that the Council and I could go screw ourselves. That he didn’t want us in his city telling him he knew nothin’ and was worth nothin’.” Dev frowned, then added, “I’m pretty sure he meant to hit me, but stopped himself.”
“So, irrationally angry.” She gripped the steering wheel tightly and breathed deeply. “This doesn’t usually happen at this time of day.”
“It does happen at times, then?”
“Generally it’s because of Mercy, but that’s impossible right now.”
“His partner? Where is she, by the way?”
Erin looked at him, eyes widening in alarm. Then she got herself under control. “She’s the night shift.”
Which didn’t mesh with Hawkins being out with her all night, but Dev let it slide for now.
“All right, he’s going berserk or on the brink. He’ll be looking for an outlet.” She swore softly. “I think I know where we might find him.”
The car was in gear and they were burning out before Dev had his belt done up.
“Berserk?”
“He didn’t tell you that, either? Jesus. Yeah, it’s an affliction he has. Shit, should have brought the taser.”
Starting to feel a little lost, Dev repeated, “Taser?”
Erin drove fast but not recklessly so. “I invested in one a couple months back, for emergencies. There seemed to be a few of them cropping up since I met Matt.” She glanced at him. “How are you at restraining a strong man intent on killing someone?”
“Normally, better than average. Hawkins? I’d say less than. I do have a few other options, though.”
“Nothing that will hurt him. This isn’t his fault. Not really.”
They drove for a while in tense silence, then Erin hissed, called up the Bluetooth and said, “Call Courey.”
The call connected and ringing sounded through the car. It was answered after a couple of rings.
“What now, McRea?”
“I don’t have time for you to be a prick, Courey,” Erin snapped. “Look, this is just a courtesy call. There might be a disturbance about to happen in Hawthorne. Can you get a few cars on the ready, just in case I can’t contain it?”
“What shit is this? Am I your personal security force now?”
“I’m serious, Miles. What can you do?”
There was a bit of silence, then, “Is it him?”
Erin winced. “I’m sure I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Jesus, Erin. We talked about this yesterday. I told you not to get messed up with that bastard.”
“Look, are you going to help or not?”
“Address,” he snapped.
She gave it to him and he grumbled about maybe putting a call out, then hung up.
“You really think you need to involve the police?” Dev asked.
“It might be the only thing that gets through to Matt.”
The grim seriousness of her tone drove it home for Dev.
When they turned down a small street in a quiet neighbourhood, Dev saw the rental at the far end. It’d been driven right onto someone’s front lawn and now sat skewwhiff on the bare ground. The driver’s side door was open. Hawkins wasn’t visible.
There was a kid on the grass though, one of those Dev and Hawkins had seen the day before. He sat slumped over one drawn up leg, the other stretched out. The boy rocked back and forth.
Erin skidded the BMW to a stop and was out before Dev. She hurried to the kid.
“Where is he?” she asked him.
The kid didn’t answer, didn’t lift his head. He just rocked and cried. The outstretched leg looked wrong. Then Dev realised the knee cap was dislocated. The flesh around it was swelling fast, purpling with broken blood vessels.
“Get out! Get the fuck out!”
Dev’s head snapped up. So did Erin’s. The shout came from inside the small house. The front door burst open and another youth staggered out. He got two steps, then fell to his knees, hands pressed to his face. Blood bubbled out between his fingers.
Then there were more shouts and screams from inside.
Erin pulled out her phone as Dev rushed toward the house. He heard her say Courey’s name and demand cars and ambulances. Then she was coming up behind him.
Dev stopped at the door, holding back and to the side. Erin took the far side, gun at the ready. Wanting his hands free for non-lethal options, Dev left his borrowed piece in his pants.
“On three,” he said.
Erin nodded.
He counted with fingers. On three, Erin opened the door and Dev went in, crouched under the general line of sight. He didn’t want to get shot in the head for his troubles. Erin followed in perfect formation.
The house consisted of a central hallway, rooms to either side, rear door at the far end. Erin cleared the front rooms while a girl started screaming in long wails toward the back of the house. A man’s voice—not Hawkins—shouted.
“You’re gonna fuckin’ pay. Get the fuck out or I’ll gut you.”
Dev aimed for the voices, Erin moving up beside him.
“Come on, then,” the man goaded. “You wanna do this, then fuckin’ do it.”
The girl’s wails choked off in a strangled sob, turning into pleas for him to get out, to just go, to leave them alone.
Before Dev reached the last door, it burst open and the big guy from the day before flew into the hallway. He crashed into the opposite door and broke it, falling out of sight.
Hawkins appeared in the doorway to the bedroom. He moved with a smooth, predator’s grace, with a surety of his strength and confidence in his superiority Dev had rarely seen in a human. Right then, Hawkins looked like a vampire. An old one, at least three hundred years old. It didn’t help that his eyes gleamed silver in the dim light of the house.
“Hawkins,” Dev called before the man could follow the downed guy into the other room.
The thing that had been Matthew Hawkins turned and looked at Dev. That razor-edged gaze cut through Dev’s skin and burrowed right into his core, digging for his heart. A wave of cold electricity rolled over Dev. He shivered right down to his bones.
Only creatures of the Old World possessed that power.
This was not good.
Dev raised his hands. “Upepo wa dhoruba.” The cascade tripped across his mind and his hands glowed. It took a second at most.
A blast of telekinesis caught Dev in the gut and shoved him backwards.
His winds bellowed through the narrow confines of the hallway. Uncoordinated, they still hit Hawkins like a sledgehammer. He pin-wheeled backwards.
Dev hit the wall, the air knocked from his lungs. The trick cut off the moment his concentration was interrupted.
The winds died and Hawkins was back on his feet so fast Dev missed seeing it happen. Then he was right in front of
Dev, fist driving for his face.
Ducking, Dev felt the blow glance off the side of his head. It was powerful enough to send him the rest of the way to the floor, his head ringing. Erin dashed through his blurred vision, hitting Hawkins with a couple of fast strikes, spinning away before he could catch her. It didn’t seem to impede Hawkins much, but it gave Dev time to act.
He triggered the hurricane winds again, hitting Hawkins full on. The other man was blown back down the hallway. Dev pushed himself up with his legs, using the wall for leverage. He was unwilling to take the winds off Hawkins, who was pushed against the wall, trying to snarl even as the force of the wind stole the air out of his lungs.
“How long can you hold him?” Erin asked breathlessly.
“I can’t sustain this level for long. Maybe a minute.”
Which he didn’t get to prove.
Another blast of telekinesis hit Dev. It was aimed at his arms this time, perfectly aimed, in fact. It slammed into his burned wrists, wrapped around them and twisted.
Pain wiped Dev clean of all thought and will. He screamed and crashed to the floor. The wind once again died.
“Dev!” Erin shouted, reaching for him.
She didn’t make it. Hawkins was there, grabbing her around the waist and pushing her into the wall. Hawkins pinned her there with his whole body, pressing in. He gripped her wrist until her gun dropped to the floor.
“Sweet, so sweet,” he whispered, his voice a low, husky throb. “I’ve tasted you before. Rich and dark and sweet.”
Erin lifted her head to face him. “Matt, don’t do this. This isn’t you. Fight it.”
“Hmm. I’ve been fighting it for so long I’d forgotten how good it is to give in. You know what that’s like, don’t you. Giving in. Giving up the fight. How close have you been, Erin? How many times have you thought about ending it all?”
Dragging in a deep breath, Erin glared at him. Her eyes glistened with tears. “But I haven’t. And you don’t have to, either. Matthew, listen to me. Stop this. Think of Mercy. Who will look after her if you can’t? What will happen to her if you give in?”
Hawkins tossed his head back, a low growl vibrating in his throat. His hands curled into fists against the wall on either side of Erin’s head. So close to hurting her.
Dev blinked his eyes clear and struggled to stand. His arms felt like Friedrich had hold of them again, like the sorcerer’s fire was right there on Dev’s skin. But it wasn’t. Friedrich was dead. His fire wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again.
Teeth gritted, Dev got to his feet. His head was too full of pain and bad memories to manage a trick, so he reached for the gun. Pain flaring, he gripped the Glock and pulled it free.
“Matt,” Erin said, her tone earnest and aching. “You can hear me. I know you can. You don’t want to do this, not again. Come on, calm down and think.”
Hawkins opened his eyes and they were hazel. He stared at Erin and then dropped his head forward onto her shoulder. His hands slid down the wall, relaxed, the tension bleeding off him like steam from a pressure cooker.
“It’s okay,” Erin whispered, patting his head. “It’s okay now.”
Sirens cut through the sudden quiet.
Hawkins snapped back to attention, eyes gleaming silver.
Dev brought the Glock up, aiming, finger pulling back on the trigger.
Chapter 30
Then the little redhead appeared, with a cricket bat.
She swung it as hard as she could and it hit the back of Hawkins’ head with solid crack. Hawkins went down, taking Erin with him. Dev was left pointing the gun at nothing.
“Fucker,” the girl muttered, then dropped the bat and staggered away. Her pupils were pinpoints, eyes glazed over. A tourniquet was still wrapped loosely around one arm. She bounced into a wall and fell to her knees, seemingly unaware of it.
“Dev,” Erin called. “Help me get him up.”
Dev shook his head, then put the gun away. He grabbed Hawkins under his arms and, wrists screaming, hauled the unconscious man off Erin. She scrambled to her feet, making sure her gun was holstered.
“We have to get him out of here before the cops arrive.”
“Is that smart? Shouldn’t he be restrained?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “He’ll be fine when he wakes up. Hopefully. Besides, if the cops get him, it’ll be bad for him.”
“Might be worse for everyone else if they don’t.” But Dev gritted his teeth and pulled Hawkins into a fireman’s carry.
Erin led him to the front door. “Take him to the office. I’ll stay and talk with the cops, then met you there.”
“Wouldn’t home be better for him?”
Something like worry flashed through her eyes. “Not right now.” She pulled out her keys and gave him the ones for her office. Her hands shook so hard the keys jangled. “Just hurry.”
He really shouldn’t be a part of this. It wasn’t why he was here, and yet Dev found himself taking Hawkins out the front and to the Mustang. There were people gathering on the sidewalk and they snapped photos on their phones as he shoved Hawkins into the backseat. That could be a problem. No, scratch that. It was a problem.
Getting behind the wheel, Dev took a moment to trigger a tick he hadn’t used in a long time.
“Umeme mapigo.”
The cascade burned down paths long dormant. Dev’s head felt like it was caught in a clamp. The weight of the wind tricks and now this one, unpractised for a long time and always hard on the tissues, dragged on his spine.
Outside, the gathered folks looked around, perplexed as the hair stood up on their arms and necks.
A moment later, out of a perfectly blue sky, lightning crashed into the ground behind the house. Sparks flew from the power lines along the street. The booming clap of instant thunder shuddered the old building and had people falling over in shock.
Before they could recover, Dev turned the car on and slammed it into reverse. The tyres spun on the grass, caught traction and they rocketed backwards. People scattered. On the road, Dev spun the wheel, put the car in drive and peeled out of there.
He left behind a crowd of stunned, quivering witnesses holding a heap of dead phones, all electrical devices wiped by the EMP accompanying the lightning.
Dev took random corners, avoiding any hint of flashing lights he caught sight of. In the back seat, Hawkins rolled back and forth but was otherwise unresponsive. Maybe the girl had cracked his skull.
Thoroughly lost after twenty minutes, and frowning from thinking ‘left side, left side’ constantly, Dev pulled over and took several deep breaths. He’d have to remember to call Aurum and thank him for a lovely recommendation. When he got a new cell phone, that was.
Hoping the car had escaped the worst of the EMP, he turned on the satnav system and found it working. A minute later, he started for Erin’s office.
Hawkins was partially awake when Dev found a park outside the office building. Wrists aching, Dev helped him out of the car. The man was still mostly out of it, barely able to stand on his own and mumbling about his head. Dev excused him to a few passers-by by saying he was drunk.
“Am not,” Hawkins slurred, helping Dev’s cause.
In the lift, Hawkins fell over and Dev just had him upright when the doors opened on the twelfth floor. They staggered to the office, gathering concerned questions and raised eyebrows as they went. Hawkins again slithered to the floor while Dev unlocked the door. Sick of picking him up, Dev grabbed a handful of his shirt and dragged him into the office.
A furious but muffled chattering greeted them.
In Erin’s office, a small brown and black object bounced around madly, jumping across the furniture in frantic circles.
Then something hit Dev and he went crashing into the wall. Hawkins grunted and rolled away as a body shoved by him, disappearing before Dev got a clear look. It did, however, leave a trail of terribly familiar sorcery.
Dev raced out after the earth sorcerer, but he had no chanc
e, even if he wasn’t lightheaded and sore. The door to the stairwell was already banging shut when Dev swung out into the hallway.
“What was that?” a shocked man asked, looking from the door to Dev and back again.
“No idea,” Dev muttered, then retreated back into the office.
How had the earth sorcerer tracked them here?
On the floor, Hawkins moaned and Dev sighed. Of course. Hawkins was one of the players here. The local community would know him, where to find him, who he had contact with. Here might not be as good as Erin thought.
But the sorcerer had run rather than fight. As he had the day before. Surely if he wanted to get Dev off his trail, now would have been the perfect time to do it. Walking in unaware, tired from hard tricks, he had been vulnerable. So why pass it up?
Dev managed to get Hawkins on the couch and scrounged together an icepack from the small fridge under the table with the coffee machine. He made Hawkins hold it to the back of his own head, then went to look into Erin’s inner office.
The monkey had calmed down, bouncing on the back of a chair, tail curling and uncurling. It chittered away, all but wringing its little hands in worry. Seeing him watching it, it bounded over to the glass wall between them and stood up, pressing against the glass, hands reaching for him, wanting to be picked up like a toddler.
Dev tried to ignore the big round eyes, but found himself hunting for a key to fit the connecting door. When he got it unlocked, the monkey rushed out and bounded up his leg, over his arm and to his shoulder. It gripped his head and chattered frantically.
“Yeah, me too,” Dev muttered.
The monkey tensed. Then, with a squeal it leaped off him and raced across the room. It bounded onto the couch and dove down between Hawkins and the backrest, burrowing itself in until only its tail was visible. A little hand appeared and grabbed the tail, pulling it down until it too was gone.
“Finally,” Hawkins moaned.
“Finally what?” Dev asked, relieved the man was regaining his sense.
“Someone finally likes me more than they do you.”
Rock Paper Sorcery Page 22
