Cali sighed. “Okay, also, what we’ll do will set both gangs back, at least for a while. It’ll be safer out there for everyone.”
“So you say. Do you care to offer proof? Evidence? Details of what you’re planning, maybe?”
“No, that’s not an option.”
“You’re not planning to kill anyone, are you?” The detective frowned.
“Holy mother of Megazon, what the hell, woman?” The yelped words were out before her brain knew they were coming. She lowered her voice. “No. Definitely not.”
Barton’s lips twitched. “I’d say that’s a wholly honest answer. It could be the first you’ve given me. Ever.” She frowned. “What else?”
Cali exhaled an exasperated breath. “I’m not sure if you’re already aware of this because I wasn’t until last night. Apparently, there’s a group of magical beings that gathers as kind of a team, or committee, or something. They want to see action taken. I’m told your support will be noticed and appreciated, which could mean better information flow in the future.”
“That’s all fairly vague.”
“Four losers off the streets is reason enough, and you know it. Anything else is merely a bonus.”
The detective stared, probably hoping for more from her, but she was fresh out of items to offer. Her backup plan was not nearly as good. She was perilously close to convincing herself to plead for the woman’s assistance when she finally spoke.
“Okay. I’ll help you. But I’ll need the details on when and where things are going down so I can have people ready to roll in case it all goes to hell.”
“Yeah, promise first. And no takebacks.”
Barton rolled her eyes. “You have my word.”
She extended a hand. “Shake on it.” The other woman’s palm slid into hers, and she tasted the familiar pineapple-banana flavor that told her the detective was suspicious but being honest. The hint of anise at the edges suggested she wouldn’t respond well to being deceived, however.
When she released the woman’s hand, she smiled. “The Shark Nightclub and the Zatora mansion. Tonight.”
The officer leaned back with a sigh. “No offense, but you’re crazy, and I kind of wish I’d never met you.”
Cali laughed. “No takebacks.”
“Just so I’m completely clear, there’s no way I can talk you out of this?”
She shook her head and turned serious. “No. It’s necessary to protect the people I care about. We’ve gone through the options and this is the only one with a decent chance to accomplish that.”
“I could lock you up for your own protection.”
“Sure. But then Tanyith and Zeb would have to do it without me, and they aren’t as good at disguise. And before you say it, if I don’t text them a code by a certain time, they’ll both fade so you can’t find them.”
Barton ran her hands through her hair. “You’ve certainly thought this through. Fine. So be it. When do you need the pictures?”
“Now would be helpful.”
“Whoever made you this annoying should be slapped.” She sighed and pressed keys on her keyboard. “All right, let’s get ourselves some scumbags.”
Chapter Thirty
Emalia shook her head. “No, you need to concentrate more.”
Cali rubbed her arm where the older woman had smacked her with a cane she occasionally used for show. Fyre was asleep on the floor, and the illusion she’d placed to make him look like the man Tanyith would be impersonating wavered into solidity in the afternoon sunlight coming through the window. Damn it. If I can’t hold the image in my guardian’s living room against the dire threat of her walking stick, how will I do it and fight at the same time? “I hear you. It was only a slip. It won’t happen again.”
The other woman folded her arms and nodded primly. “We’ll see. Maybe you should consider a backup plan.” It wasn’t intended as an insult, surely, but it registered as one.
She gritted her teeth and locked the illusions that masked her and the Draksa safely away in compartments of her mind, doubled the barriers that held them in place, and pictured a constant flow of magic trickling to them. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Her mentor raised her hand and targets appeared in the air around her, small spinning vortexes of energy.
The student pointed her finger and dispatched a bolt of force at each. They were consumed on impact and the target spun into nothingness. She eliminated all of them, only to face another group, larger and more plentiful than the first. With two fingers, she fired more powerful bolts. Her teacher often criticized her need for physical gauges of power and called it a bad habit. One more thing to add to the to-do list, right?
While she was distracted, the cane rapped her on the cheek. She growled and held her focus to remove targets one after the other as Emalia smacked the wooden rod into her legs, arms, and ultimately, over the top of her head. Finally, both the attacks and targets vanished, and she glanced at the Draksa. The illusion of a man sleeping on the floor, while certainly strange, was intact and believable. It brought a smile to her face.
She looked back to find Emalia wearing the same grin. “Good work, child. You’re ready. There’s only one thing left to do.”
The front door was latched, the closed sign in place, and Cali sat across the small table from her teacher. Fyre was curled under the ebony tablecloth that reached almost all the way to the floor. The crystal ball was put away, replaced by an ornate box Emalia had retrieved from a locked and warded chest in the corner. It was black-lacquered and had watercolor flowers painted on the top and sides. She lifted the lid and withdrew a black silk parcel. Setting the box to the side, she unfolded the protective fabric to reveal her tarot cards. They were unlike any set Cali had ever seen, aquatic-themed and dark except for neon flourishes visible in the black light from above. Her mind wandered as Emalia spread them out and shuffled them in a ritual only she understood.
Dasante had asked once if she always knew what was going to happen because her guardian was a real fortune-teller. She’d laughed and said the woman refused to read her, and the discussion had faded under other topics. The truth was more complicated. Her mentor had explained that there was danger inherent for both parties involved in repeated full readings, and so they’d agreed to limit their sessions. Her last had been before accepting the job at the Dragons and had resulted in one of the best decisions of her life.
Without a doubt, tonight rose to that level of importance. Emalia closed her eyes and intoned, “Focus your mind on your question.” She pictured the plans for the night’s activities and imagined the actions like examining a crystal for flaws, turning it this way and that to expose each facet to the light.
The fortune-teller’s voice took over, deeper and more resonant than her guardian’s normal speaking tone. “We beseech the universe for knowledge from the Clouds,” She placed a card face-down. “Knowledge from the Land.” Another card found its place, and Cali recognized the Compass pattern. “Knowledge from the Heavens.” North, East, and South were now in position. “Knowledge from the Depths.” As she spoke the final words, she set the last card face-down in the center. “Knowledge from the waters, the essence of life itself.” Her eyes fluttered open and met her student’s. “Let us see what the future has in store for you.”
She flipped the rectangle furthest from her. It showed a man seated on a throne, a trident grasped in his hand. The weapon pointed away from Cali. “Your situation is represented by the emperor, inverted. From what you’ve told me, this is almost certainly the leader of the humans challenging you.”
“That makes sense.”
The next card, down and to the right, revealed a woman on a divan in a gown resembling waves and coral and who held an orb-topped scepter in her hand. Again, the object pointed away. “Empress, inverted, is your challenge.” Emalia gazed at the image for a half-minute before she raised her eyes. “It could be the leader of the other faction. Or it could be something inside yourself that needs to be overcom
e.”
The Draksa snorted, and Cali kicked him. “I’m sure it’s the former. I’m clearly perfect.”
There was a hint of a smile on her guardian’s lips as she leaned forward again to the cards. “Guidance is next.” She flipped the card on the west point of the Compass to discover Justice upright and chuckled. “Well, that one’s clear.”
A wave of confidence rolled through her, and she nodded in grateful agreement.
The next card, in the last cardinal direction, showed a man in robes wielding a wand to draw an infinity symbol in the air. Behind him appeared to be a city with a glimmering that might have been a dome above, through which dark sapphire ripples were visible. “The Magician, again inverted. You have the skills you need but may have to become more proficient in using them to succeed.” Cali had nothing to say to that, so her mentor flipped the one in the center.
The High Priestess stared upward, draped in blue and wearing a hat consisting of a large pearl with fins to either side. It was upright, always a good sign. Emalia turned the positive into something less welcome with the reminder that while the High Priestess always signified growth, “Sometimes, the most effective growth comes from failure.”
She sighed. “Thanks for ending on such an up note. Seriously, any more optimism and I might not be able to control myself.”
The older woman smiled at her. “Perhaps it is not a night for control but for trusting instinct to see you through.”
“Did you read that?” She frowned.
Emalia laughed. “No, I simply know you well, child. Please be reasonably careful.” She lifted the cloth and looked under the table. “You keep her safe for me.”
Fyre was still pretending not to speak when others were around, so he merely offered a nod with his snout. Cali rolled her eyes at him, gave her guardian a hug, and created a portal to take them to the tavern.
She and Fyre had availed themselves of the day’s stew—turkey, she thought, with tons of root vegetables and a spice she didn’t recognize—and managed to nap on some crates in the basement while afternoon turned into evening. She, Zeb, and Tanyith agreed that midnight was the best time to start at the first location, and they should strike the other immediately after.
Which had been an open question prior to her reading. Now, she had decided to take them in order. She gave the sleeping Draksa a pat and yawned as she climbed the stairs. Janice was her usual annoying self in the common room, and Zeb maintained his usual serene presence behind the bar. The tavern was extra full tonight, more like a Friday crowd than a Thursday one, and an air of anticipation permeated the building. Or maybe that’s only me. Whatever. The Dwarf slid a soft cider to her, and she drained it in a long draught and felt instantly better.
He looked at the door and she followed his gaze, so when Tanyith opened it and stepped inside, she saw his entrance. He’d slicked his hair into a ponytail, and his beard was tightly confined by a series of elastics. It was an entirely different and far more martial look for the man. The theme extended to his thick boots, tactical-style pants with big side pockets, and the tight black athletic shirt he wore. He carried a heavy-looking canvas sack over his shoulder. Zeb nodded and said, “You two can head to the basement. I’ll be down shortly.”
Cali followed him and at the bottom, he shrugged the bag onto a crate. A metallic clank sounded from it. She grinned. “Is that a sword in your pack or are you simply happy to see me?”
“Not quite.” He laughed and shook his head as he loosened the drawstring and reached inside to withdraw two ornate hilts. He handed one of the sheaths to her, and she pulled the sai from it. The martial arts weapon looked like a spread trident in miniature—a steel blade with a sharp point in the middle and a curved prong to each side. She’d only seen practice versions before, and the wicked tips on all the ends proved that these were something else entirely. The blue leather of the grip was worn but otherwise, the weapon seemed well cared for.
“Nice. Did someone keep an eye on it for you while you were gone?”
“Kinda. They were buried in one of my treasure caches. My life wasn’t really stable enough to settle down anywhere.” He exhumed a brown leather belt from the bag and secured it around his waist, then attached the sheaths for the sai.
“No guns? I assumed you’d have guns too.”
He shrugged. “It’s not smart to get caught by the police with firearms. We always stuck to magic as our main weapon and hand to hand either for defense or to make a point.”
“Which is it tonight?”
“Both.” He smiled and retrieved a medium-sized wooden box from the bag. He set it on the crate and lifted the lid. Inside were two vials, one red and one blue. Above them, set at a right angle, was a folded piece of black fabric. He withdrew that first and showed how it unzipped to reveal a strip of gold coins, then pulled his shirt untucked to strap it around his stomach. “Backup plan one, in case we have to run.”
Once he returned his outfit to its proper tucked arrangement, he held up the red flask. “Health potion. Exhausting, but a literal lifesaver.” He slid it into a loop on the side of his belt, then did the same with the other. “And an energy potion for when magic is running low.”
She frowned. “Aren’t they a little fragile to carry openly like that?”
“Nah. It’s the same material bulletproof glass is made of.”
Zeb’s voice was unexpected. “You fancy young people. The old ways worked fine.” He stepped off the bottom stair and headed to a corner of the room. She could barely make out his muttered, “Which crate is it in? Ah, right.” He gestured and two of the boxes floated into the air so the bottommost could slide out from under them. Another motion removed the top from it. He pulled out a belt similar to Tanyith’s in style but of black leather and far more broken-in. The dwarf handed it to her. “Your sticks should fit in the sheaths where my throwing axes went. They tie down to the legs.”
She secured it and fastened the leg straps. “Nice. It feels good. Thank you.”
He nodded and pulled a metal vial from each pocket. “I had a friend get these for you. They are specifically brewed for Atlanteans and should pack quite a kick.” One had a cross engraved on the flip top and the other a star. She put the healing potion on her right hip in the loop that appeared custom made for that purpose, and the energy draught on her left.
“Thanks, Zeb. You know, for this and all the other stuff.”
The dwarf waved dismissively. “Yeah, well, I can’t send my best worker out unprepared. I’d let you take Valerie, but she doesn’t like anyone other than me.” The idea of her carrying a battleax, much less swinging it, made her laugh. She presumed that was the cause of Tanyith’s snort and scowled at him, which only caused his grin to grow wider.
Zeb gazed at them both without speaking for several seconds, then nodded. “You’ll do. Be careful, and remember, if it gets hairy, come back here. I’ll wait with the wards up but make sure no enemies follow you. I don’t want to have to get Valerie dirty.”
Cali resisted the urge to give him a hug. She’d save it for later when it was over. He stomped up the stairs, and she turned to her partner. “All right, Tay, are we ready for this?”
He nodded. “You know it.”
She looked at her watch. They had twenty minutes until midnight. She grinned at him. “I hate waiting.” She swung her attention to the Draksa, who had sat quietly in the corner as they finished gearing up. “You be prepared to eat anyone who follows us through.”
He rose and extended his front paws as far forward as they could go with his rear end in the air. When he was done, he stretched his back legs one at a time. “I will if any get into our portals when we’re leaving.”
In her peripheral vision, Tanyith’s head whipped around in surprise at the dragon’s words. Cali frowned. “Come again?”
He sat in the center of the room. “I’m going with you, of course.”
The man looked at her with an expression that clearly communicated, “This is your
problem.”
She shook her head. “I can’t disguise you too. Maybe after I practice more or something….” Her words trailed off as Fyre vanished slowly from the ground up, the last thing to disappear his Cheshire cat grin. Cali put a hand over her face. “So. You can veil.”
He reappeared wearing that “laughing at not laughing with” smile. Despite her love for the creature, she wanted nothing more than to slap him silly at that moment. She sighed. “You suck, you know that?”
“The two of you against entire gangs, pretending to be skilled thieves? You won’t need me. Anyone can see that.”
He wasn’t wrong. “Fine. Be careful. I don’t have a healing potion for you.”
When she looked up, Tanyith was checking the draw on his weapons. She summoned her own and held them for a few extra seconds so they’d be ready to transform again before she slid them into their holders. The sticks fit perfectly. She concentrated on the pictures she’d spent the day memorizing and let her power reach toward her partner. His tanned skin darkened, his hair changed to black, and his beard became a goatee. The standard uniform of the Atlantean gang followed as his clothes transformed into jeans and a hoodie. “Move around,” she commanded, and he jumped and waved his arms a few times. The illusion held, and she pushed it into a corner of her mind and willed magic to continue to flow to it.
Cali repeated the process on herself and became a tall, pale man with a ratty t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Long dreadlocks hung over the image’s chest and back. “Check me.” She moved around, and he nodded before she locked that spell down in her brain as well.
After a deep breath, she looked first at the Draska and then at Tanyith. “Let’s get this nonsense over with, shall we?”
He opened a portal to a dark patch of grass, and they all stepped through together.
Chapter Thirty-One
Magic Street Boogie Page 17
