by Gina LaManna
Cynthia gave a hearty laugh. “Yes, well. You should’ve kept gunning for that promotion, and I would have left you alone. But no. You had to become friendly with DeMarco.”
Marcus snorted. “Friendly. Right. Either way, I think you should reconsider killing DeMarco first. It won’t end well for you.”
Cynthia looked as if she were actually reconsidering. “Maybe you’re right.”
Marcus gave a wan smile. “I usually am.”
“I’ll take that as you volunteering to take her place.” Cynthia shrugged, then flicked her blond hair over one shoulder. “Lights out, Detective Prey.”
“No!” I lunged toward Cynthia, but my body was pulled back, jerked to the ground by a forceful tug at my neck.
I realized all too late that Tink’s pearl necklace had acted with protective instincts of its own and pulled me out of harm’s way just as Cynthia let loose a stream of magic that reeked of black Residuals toward Marcus.
She must have put a one-way magic charm on the cages because the rays of blue electricity passed easily between the bars and hit Marcus on the chest. He flew backward, his body crashing into the rear bars of the cage and sending a second round of energy coursing through him.
He collapsed to the floor, his body looking broken and deformed like an old, tossed out puppet. Blood dripped from his nose and his lips, and his eyes were closed.
I tore my gaze up from the sticky cement floor and found Lisa’s eyes closed, her lips moving in some swift incantation. She’d invoked the protective powers of the spell to keep me safe, and I wasn’t happy about it. But Lisa had saved me from ending up like Marcus, and if I didn’t do something fast, it would have been for nothing.
“Your turn, DeMarco,” Cynthia said, coming close to me and giving a deliciously evil grin. “Say goodnight, Detective.”
“No.”
The whisper came from the corner, startling everyone into pulse-pounding silence. I spiraled to face Linsey, noting Cynthia turned in surprise as well.
Linsey’s gorgeous hair had turned scraggly and brittle, and her clothes hung from her thin body. Everything about her shouted death—except for the ferocious glint in her eyes.
“Invoke it,” Linsey whispered, her gaze locked on me. “Or I will.”
“No—Linsey,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s too much for you!”
“Invoke what?” The first fingers of panic wormed their way into Cynthia’s voice. “What is she talking about, DeMarco? Invoke what?”
“Linsey, there’s another way,” I said. “Don’t—”
“Invoke what?!” Cynthia screeched. Her hand flailed with manic energy as she turned toward me. “Your magic won’t work here.”
“But mine will—we’re connected, Detective.” Then Linsey let her head drop, and she released a deep, strong incantation with the very last dregs of her energy. As the words left her lips, her bangle began to glow.
Cynthia’s howl of disapproval was drowned out by two violent bursts of light—one from across the room as a golden light burst from Linsey’s chest, one from somewhere near me.
From me, I corrected, as I looked down and saw the vibrant yellow beams shooting from my fingers. More impressive, however, was the effect it had on my sight.
There were two versions of the world before me, and I understood, without actually comprehending, that I was seeing both reality and the future. I watched as Cynthia howled her disapproval at the realization that I had the bangle. That I was now siphoning powerful elfin magic through Linsey due to the old magic she’d invoked.
Superimposed over the scene before me, I watched as Cynthia reached behind her body and gathered momentum to throw a curse at me. I watched as the curse cracked the magical barrier around the bars. I watched as the cage broke and set us free. I watched as Cynthia stepped into the cage and killed Marcus.
With a sharp inhalation of breath, I focused on the piece of reality dangling before me, and I saw Cynthia winding up with the curse that would destroy the cages. I reached down and pulled Marcus to the side—out of the path of magic. Then I ducked to the other side of the cage, just as Cynthia sent her curse bolting toward the bars.
As I’d predicted—or rather, seen—the curse cracked the magic and bent the bars in every direction. I was standing at the mouth of the opening because I knew, I’d seen, the hole before it had occurred.
This was more than clairvoyance, I thought. No wonder the elves kept this powerful magic a secret. It had been exploited in the past and would be exploited in the future if they weren’t careful.
And suddenly, I understood Leonard Luca’s impossible choice. I understood that as a leader of his people, he had to choose between the life of his daughter and the knowledge of centuries old magic that could bring an entire culture to its knees.
Hurriedly, I yanked Marcus out of the cage and sent him flying across the room toward Lisa with some Moving Magic of my own. His body crashed unceremoniously to the floor, and I winced at the thud. But at least he was still alive.
I sidestepped another curse, quite easily, as Cynthia worked her way toward me. So long as I focused, so long as Linsey stayed alive and siphoned her power through me, I could keep this up. But my time was limited. I could feel the power weakening as Linsey’s head drooped and the golden light we shared fell to a dull sheen.
With startling clarity, I knew that I could change the future. I could see what would happen, and I could change it—after all, hadn’t Cynthia killed Marcus in my vision, yet somehow, because of my actions, he was still alive?
“The necklace!” Lisa said. “Trust it!”
I heard her shouting, just as Linsey’s magic died. Her head fell to her chest, the light from her vanished without a trace. My body felt a tingle as the Siphoning Spell left the bangle, and my fingers looked pale and useless without the streams of magic filtering through them.
If only Lisa had gotten to the bangle, the magic might have lasted longer. Poor Linsey had given her all and there was nothing left. There was a good chance Linsey was dead, but she hadn’t left without giving me a parting gift.
A way to kill Cynthia.
The half-elf bore down on me, her eyes crazed as both hands crackled with energy. She had prepared a spell that hovered in her palms; there was enough force there to send this entire place crumbling to the ground with a single incantation. And as I’d seen in my last vision, it would be her own magic that brought her demise.
“Protective spirits, we call you here,
Reflect this evil drawing near.”
I wasn’t exactly sure where the words had come from, but I knew they’d come from me. From within, from the combination of Tink’s necklace and from Linsey’s last burst of clarity and a glimpse into the future.
That’s why, when Cynthia lowered her hands and loosed every last inch of magic on me, I stepped forward. Into the line of fire.
I held my ground as the magic hit me in the chest, and I was unable to stop the scream ripping from my lungs. It was the greatest pain I’d ever known; as if my limbs were pulled from my body, my brain heated to a boil, my skin crawling with needle pricks and doused with lemon juice.
Eventually, the pain became too much and overloaded my senses, drawing me to my knees. For one horrible, awful moment, I thought I’d seen it all wrong. That it had all been too little, too late, and Cynthia would leave us all for dead as she disappeared into some great beyond.
Tink would be motherless, Leonard would be daughterless, and the department would lose two detectives. Matthew would wonder what could have been between us, and he’d be torn with the knowledge that while he’d laid himself bare before me, it had still been too late. Too little, too late.
Until suddenly, the magic reverberated off my chest and reversed in its direction. It shot backward, and I watched as Cynthia’s eyes widened with fear, and the full brunt of magic returned and crashed against her, engulfing her with inky blackness.
It’d been painful for me to experience, and I’d b
een protected by elfin charms. For Cynthia, it would be a thousand times worse.
She was destroyed in seconds.
I dragged myself to her body, breathing heavily, and rested my fingers against her neck. There was no pulse, but I’d hardly suspected there would be after seeing and feeling the force of her magic. It had been meant to obliterate, and obliterate it had.
Just then, the doors burst open to the chamber and in jogged Matthew and Grey, and behind them, Nash. My brother had his Stunner raised in one hand and an orb of magic in the other. Matthew and Grey needed no such weapons. They were weapon enough, in and of themselves.
“Too little,” I said with a gasp. “Too late. She’s dead.”
Chapter 27
“Let me get this straight, DeMarco.” Chief Newton squinted across his desk at me, looking wildly unconvinced. “You’re trying to tell me that Detective Prey single-handedly took down Cynthia in the warehouse basement?”
I nodded, my neck feeling stiff as it bobbed my head up and down. It’d been a week since the showdown with Cynthia in the dungeon—an old, abandoned warehouse she’d converted into a prison-like space—and my body felt mildly as if it’d been electrocuted. Nothing I couldn’t work with, and a hell of a lot better than Cynthia’s outcome, but still—I was walking like an old woman in a nursing home and hating every moment of it.
“I’ve had several reports that it was you who reversed Cynthia’s magic,” the chief drawled, rapping his knuckles on the desk. “Multiple eyewitnesses have given more or less the same account of the events from that night, and they all match. Except for yours. Why is that?”
“Lisa and Linsey are the real heroes. They’re the ones we should be focusing on. And Tink, too.” I dodged the chief’s question. “I told you, there were protective charms on the necklace and bracelet I was wearing, and the elves channeled some magic through me. But I didn’t do anything—not really. It was all Marcus, Lisa, and Linsey. I was just a warm body they used.”
The chief steepled his fingers and spun his chair around. His office was situated high in one of Wicked’s loftiest buildings. The view from the Sixth Precinct was a good one, though not glamorous, stretching from the Otherlands to the Depth and beyond.
Still staring out the window, the chief spoke to his hands. “DeMarco, do you wholeheartedly believe that Marcus deserves a promotion to lieutenant?”
I hesitated. Marcus hadn’t fared as well as the rest of us at Cynthia’s hand. When her magic hit him in the cage, it had broken several bones in his body and caused internal bleeding—none of which was helped by the fact I’d sent him flying across the room in an effort to save his life.
Fortunately, Nurse Anita had worked her magic at the hospital, and after a complicated surgery, Marcus was doing much better. He’d be riding the desk for a few more weeks until fully recovered, but at least he was alive.
Meanwhile, I had filed my report during Marcus’s surgery. I’d given him credit for the capture of Cynthia, along with Lisa and Linsey, for the sake of Matthew’s career. What mattered was that we’d saved the women we could, and we’d taken Cynthia out of the game for good. Nothing else mattered.
“I believe he deserves the promotion,” I said when the chief twirled back in his chair and faced me. “Wholeheartedly.”
I held his gaze without blinking, knowing the chief would sense if I was lying. Oddly enough, I wasn’t entirely stretching the truth. In a strange twist of events, Marcus had inched himself toward redemption at the end of our time in the cage.
A knock sounded at the door. The chief’s eyes flicked up, though he didn’t appear surprised. “Come in,” he said, while gesturing with his hand for the door to open.
It opened silently with the chief’s magic, and as I turned, I was surprised to find Marcus hobbling through the door. He was still on crutches because of one particularly nasty break in his leg.
Overall, Marcus didn’t look great. His face was drawn and pale, and his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. That smarmy smile usually swiped across his face was gone. He could barely manage a twitch of his lips, a mere shadow of the smug expression he so famously preferred.
“Detective,” Marcus said with a pained nod toward me. “It’s good to have you back.”
I gave him a succinct nod back. While I might have warmed to him somewhat thanks to his actions when facing Cynthia, it hadn’t erased the blackmail photos he held on me and Matthew.
“Can we help you with something, Prey?” the chief broke the ensuing silence. “We were just discussing your recovery and impending promotion.”
Prey cleared his throat. “Oh?”
“DeMarco was just telling me what a fine job you did in the capture of Cynthia,” Chief Newton said, his eyes fixed on Marcus. “Good work, Detective. Or rather, Lieutenant. How does it feel?”
“That’s actually what I’m here to discuss,” Marcus said, his eyes downcast. “I’d like to withdraw my application for promotion.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I forced Dani to falsify her report and—”
“He did not,” I interrupted, fixing the chief with an unwavering gaze. “With all due respect, Marcus was unconscious with his legs both up in slings in a hospital bed at the time my report was written. He couldn’t have forced me to falsify it. I haven’t spoken to him since Cynthia’s takedown.”
“Marcus?” the chief asked.
“Sir, I blackmailed Detective DeMarco into giving me credit for the capture of Cynthia before we ever stepped foot in that basement.” Marcus tilted his chin higher in a misguided attempt to look noble. “I also interfered with the investigation when I shouldn’t have, and I risked the detective’s life along with Captain King’s. If you want the truth, you should know that I was already unconscious by the time Detective DeMarco reversed Cynthia’s magic. I didn’t even see the end.”
Chief Newton stared me down. “DeMarco, is there any truth to what Prey’s saying?”
“Sir,” I said finally, “if you want my honest opinion, I think we all made mistakes on this case. I believe my report should be dropped and we should move on from the matter.”
“Prey?” The chief nodded toward him.
Marcus glanced down at his feet, fixating on the leg still enclosed in a hard cast. “I think the detective has been far too generous with her assessment. I disagree and withdraw from the next round of promotions, and I would like to state on the record that it’s because of Detective DeMarco’s honest work that the kidnapped victims have been returned to their families.”
“Very well,” Chief Newton said. “Detective DeMarco, I expect an amended, honest report on my desk by tomorrow morning. Marcus?”
Shame bloomed on the lieutenant’s face. “Yes, sir?”
“Three-month suspension.”
Marcus nodded. “Of course.”
“When you come back, probation for another six months. During your time off, I’d suggest you rest, recover, and figure out how to play nice with your colleagues. If anything like this happens again, you won’t get another chance.”
“Understood, sir.”
“And Prey?”
“Yes?”
The chief smiled dryly, gave a shake of his head. “Next time you try to blackmail someone, make sure it’s not Detective DeMarco.”
“Sir?” Marcus crooked one eyebrow upward, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Excuse me?”
“She’s the smartest damn cop in the precinct, Prey—and the most stubborn,” he said. “Next time, pick on someone your own size, and you might not get your ass handed to you.”
Marcus let out a sheepish quirk of his lips. “Yes, sir.”
“Get out of here, Prey. DeMarco—you stay put. I’m not finished with you.”
Marcus turned to take his leave. He hobbled out, struggling to close the door behind him while also maneuvering on his crutches.
I moved to help, but the chief waved me off. “Let him struggle a little bit,” Newton said
. “He’s earned it. Penance.”
As Marcus finally shut the door, I turned back to the chief, digesting a strange feeling in my gut. A part of me almost wanted to tell Chief Newton to go easy on Marcus. God only knew why.
“Believe it or not,” the chief said, “this little ditty with you and Marcus isn’t the first interesting development of my morning.”
“Sir?” I offered. “You’re the chief of police in the paranormal Sixth Borough of New York. I am fairly certain that you don’t know a normal morning.”
The chief grinned. “It really is great to have you back, DeMarco. I don’t think I’ve told you that enough. I appreciate the work you did on the kidnapping case.”
“Just doing my job.”
“As for Marcus, I don’t want to know anything else about the situation,” the chief said. “I’m going to let bygones be bygones, and I’m going to trust that the two of you are capable adults who can work things out. I’d hate to fire a good cop when a second chance might do the trick.”
“I agree, sir.”
“However,” the chief continued, “if he gives you any more serious trouble, let me know before you’re falsifying reports.”
“Understood.”
“Ironically, the other strange event of my morning involves you as well.”
“Oh?”
“As a matter of fact, my best captain just resigned.”
“Matthew?” I gasped. “He gave you a letter of resignation?”
“Not in so many words,” the chief said, with an odd shadow of a smile. “I wouldn’t call it formal or eloquent, but I’d expect nothing less of King.”
“Why would he do that?” I asked. “He loves his career. He is his career.”
“I was hoping you might have some answers. He didn’t exactly give me a reason, and he wasn’t in a very chatty mood.”
“How strange,” I said, though in all honesty, I didn’t think it was very strange at all. In fact, I reached into my own pocket and felt the letter of resignation I’d prepared there. I hadn’t decided if I was actually going to give it to the chief, but I’d wanted to be armed just in case.
