Page 12

Chapter Twelve

W hen I got to my office, I sat down and opened the first folder. It was the Pix dust dealer’s profile. Could that be relevant to the murders? I didn’t see how. I closed that folder and put it to the side, opening the next. It was a suicide from two years ago, but nothing involving sealed rooms and guns. The girl had slit her wrists in a tub in her apartment and hadn’t been found for a few days.

I grimaced. I remembered that case. I’d been working security, but could still recall the smell of decaying flesh as they carried out the body. Why would Lieutenant Joss look at that file? I went through it again, looking for a note. No note. Family, all deceased except for her mother. She was seventy percent human, with some mixed blood from her father, elven mostly, but also some goblin. That made me sit back and blink. If elves could get with goblins, why couldn’t witches? Of course, the girl had killed herself, probably filled with too many conflicting feelings.

I took a photo of the girl’s face with my phone, not when she was dead, but when she was alive and working for a company. ‘Cellular Beauty.’

I closed the file and then opened the last one, which was in regard to some stray dogs and cats found dead in a summoning circle. That kind of thing might be normal in Song, but in Sing, the upper city, it was very noticeable, particularly when it was in an alley behind a respectable shopping mall. The case hadn’t been pursued, most likely because we were swamped and short-staffed. But why hadn’t I heard about the case? It was only last year, and I should have at least seen it cross a desk. Demon summoning was serious business. We didn’t want a full-scale war on our earth again. No one would survive a second battle like the one two hundred years ago. Give or take.

Why would Lieutenant Joss be looking at these files?

My door opened and there he was, my boss, chewing on a piece of licorice with Winston the Warlock just behind his shoulder, peering at me with too-knowing eyes.

“Can I help you?” I asked, standing and moving so my body would block the desk. Not that there was anything wrong with looking at old case files, particularly ones that no one had done anything about.

Joss thumbed towards the warlock. “He’d like a ride to the local coven meeting. You don’t mind helping him out, do you?”

I looked from my boss to the warlock who was apparently wickedly gifted at manipulating people. “No, that’s fine. Let me grab my briefcase.”

I turned and shuffled the files into my case, and snapped it closed with a breath of relief. They were still standing there, watching me. I flashed a smile at my boss as I passed him. “See you Monday.”

He hesitated, then nodded. I’d get the rest of my weekend if I played nice with the warlock. Joss was aware that the celebrity would have the ability to sway public opinion in whichever direction he chose.

Once we’d left the office, I glanced at the powerful magic-user who was extremely wily. “As a heads up, don’t tell anyone that you want to register them. If you come out directly like you did with me, they’ll try to drown you.”

“They have a lake where they drown all visitors?” he asked mildly.

“In home brew. Far more dangerous. Wah!” I leaped back when a rabid raccoon jumped me from the side, dodging, so he landed on Winston the Warlock instead.

He juggled the raccoon, managing to keep his hands away from the sharp teeth and claws until I stopped acting like an idiot and grabbed Mr. Raccoon by the scruff of the neck, yanking him in the air and staring into those beady eyes.

There’s no cereal. Why would you leave me alone to starve? He whimpered and made his eyes go big and almost innocent.

I scoffed as I walked across the street, heading towards my new parking spot in Sashimi’s parking garage. “Sure, you’re starving. I thought you were with him. He feeds you the best treats.”

But how could I leave your apartment alone without someone to guard it? And beetle boy was so boring, counting numbers for hours and hours. You’re also out of toothpaste. And toilet paper.

“Toilet paper?!”

Winston the Warlock wasn’t the only one staring at me and my random proclamation.

I brought the raccoon closer to my face so I could really convey my feelings clearly. “Look, Mr. Raccoon, you can’t break into my apartment anytime you need to raid someone’s toilet paper. And breakfast cereal. That’s mine.”

“To be fair,” Winston the Warlock said as he held the door to the building open for me. “Breakfast cereal is pure sugar mixed with food coloring. He’s probably protecting you from your own dangerous choices.”

I narrowed my eyes at him as I led the way down the stairs. “Of course he is. And the toilet paper? Is he protecting me from that, too?”

His lips twitched. “Of course. He’s your familiar? How charming.”

I gave him a dark look before I returned my gaze to the raccoon. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

I could use a snack . He gave me another innocent look, curling up with his tail curled over his head so he looked practically adorable.

I shook my head and sighed as I put him on the ground. He waddled along beside me, pleased with himself.

“You can hear the raccoon’s thoughts? You must have a very strong bond, and very strong magic. You really should be registered. Some creatures can steal the magic out of you if you don’t have proper protection,” Winston said, voice persuasive and concerned.

I snorted. “Or use me as a live source. I am aware. I’m a police officer. I’m not defenseless.”

“That’s so reassuring. Tell me more about the snacks. Your raccoon would probably love sausage rolls.”

“He eats garbage. He’s not particular.”

Mr. Raccoon looked up at me, hurt. Just because I eat garbage doesn’t mean I’m not particular. I’m very picky about the garbage I eat.

I laughed and then ducked through the door and into the garage. “Of course you are. A connoisseur of trash.”

I walked through the very safe, well-lit garage to my car, parked not very far from the door. It was incredibly magical to not have to walk so far, past the club and the demons.

Once we’d gotten into the car, Mr. Raccoon balanced on the manifold between us, studying Winston with suspicion.

The warlock said, “Do you really think that the two deaths were linked and not suicides?”

“I can’t talk about cases to civilians.”

He raised a brow as I drove out of the parking lot, waving to the parking attendant, a man with a thin smile who waved back.

“I’m a civilian?”

“You’re an actor, also a warlock who wants to organize the world of witches into a tidy little group so that you can have more central power, more efficiency, and more capacity for putting your interests ahead of other guilds. Neither of those are a cop.”

“You’re so virtuous and honest.”

I shook my head. “I know. I walked through a truth spell at some point and can’t seem to shake it off. It’s very irritating.”

“You seem to be caught up in many strange and magical spells. How did you get all those paranoid, powerful guests to open up to you?”

“Did they? You seem to have your own informants.” I frowned at him. “Why is that?”

He gave me a mild smile and settled back. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Probably not, but that’s no reason not to explain yourself.”

“I want to protect the witches and mages with neutral magic from the fear and prejudice of those around us. I want to unite us so that we are safe.”

“You feel like your safety is threatened?”

He shook his head. “No. I have the happy situation of being very talented at controlling the rhetoric that surrounds me. Other witches are not so lucky. The last witch burning was two years ago. The last stoning was three years before that. Ten years ago, there were fifty times as many, particularly in some parts of the world. We’ve come a long way. We’re going to keep progressing.”

I checked his aura. It was a bright flame of intensity. Whatever other motives he had, he was very sincere about protecting witches from their own reputations.

When we got to the coven’s woodlot, I was surprised to see the parking lot packed. I had to pull in under a bush that swallowed the front half of my hood, between a striped truck and a red hatchback. Looked like Clarinda was here as well. My brother’s yellow bike was here too. I pulled out my phone to check messages. Yep, there was one from my mother about there being a required meeting for all coven members. I wasn’t sure if I was an actual member, but I guess it was good I was here.

“They need more parking,” he said, staring at the extremely narrow space between his door and the car next to him.

“You’re magical. I’m sure you can fit.” I patted his shoulder, grabbed Mr. Raccoon, holding him on my hip like a baby as I got out, squeezing out of my side as well. Hopefully, I wouldn’t be here long.

I made a face at Mr. Raccoon, because I was starting to feel very uneasy as we walked towards the clearing. At least there would be sausage rolls.

There was a circle of witches larger than any I’d ever seen before, men and women who were chanting with glazed faces that said that they’d been at it for hours.

Portalia looked at me with an ominous scowl. “What are you doing, Rynne, bringing an outsider into our midst?” She raised her chin so she could look down her nose at Winston while her turbaned head bobbed in our direction.

My mother and brother were looking at me, my mother irritated because I was late, my brother with a warning in his eyes, like I shouldn’t have come. Clarinda was sitting next to my brother, holding his hand, so I saw her face when she saw me, bored and amused, and then how it changed into this lightning strike of intense hatred when she saw the person standing next to me. She knew him, hated him, and would happily torture him to death while eating sausage rolls. Perfect. I’d led an enemy into the camp.

I cleared my throat. “Winston the Warlock would like to give a spiel about joining the Wide Witch Coven.”

“We aren’t interested,” Clarinda spat, still openly glaring at the warlock, who tensed up slightly at being the object of so much rage, but he kept his face smooth.

“Then perhaps you’ll tell me what reason you have to be gathered in such a powerful circle of summoning,” Winston the Warlock said with a slight smile at Clarinda.

“I am the leader here!” Portalia snapped. “We will not explain our doings to a pompous show pony like yourself. You make a mock of our kind, a spectacle.”

Most of the other females were giving him looks of barely restrained awe. No, there was no restraint. There were giggles, and blushes, and overall lust, because he was handsome, and famous, and even more charismatic in person than he was on the screen.

I sighed and turned to go, but Winston grabbed my shoulder, holding me in place.

“I sense that you’re summoning one of your members who has stirred up the local community. The same reason I’m here, brought in by rumors of a powerful witch who is openly compelling the rich and powerful in their own governor’s ball.”

Portalia’s eye twitched. “If you already know, why do you ask? Our circle hasn’t come up with anything. It’s probably someone passing through town, not part of our coven, or we’d be able to summon her.” She stood up, dropping everyone’s hands, and then everyone else stood up too, stretching like they’d been there for hours.

“But you realize the danger,” Winston said, still keeping a grip on my shoulder. If he outed me after he blackmailed me that he wouldn’t, I’d help Clarinda kill him as slowly as possible. “Now is the time to join with the cooperative before you’re targeted. The fear, the hatred, it will all grow until you’re forced to remain trapped here where you have the numbers to defend yourselves, or you’ll have to flee. The co-op is the only organization large enough to keep external forces at bay.”

“We’d rather be stoned than join anything that you are part of,” Clarinda said, turning to stalk away.

Portalia rolled her eyes, frowning after her before refocusing on Winston. “She is not the leader, but she makes a good point. We aren’t interested. We’ll deal with this matter on our own.”

“Perhaps we should listen to him,” my mother said, frowning. “Our front window was broken with rocks covered in paper with ‘burn the witch’ on them. And it was only last night. The news channels are doing their best to whip the populace into a feeding frenzy, like this witch, or whatever she was who could stomach dating a goblin, personally insulted them.”

Ah. Maybe I had done that. I edged away from Winston, but his grasp was no joke. I kicked his leg, and he released me, but the interaction had my mother frowning at me.

“Rynne, you have relations with the goblins. Perhaps you can ask them who she was since our summoning failed so miserably.”

Well, I was here, so maybe it had worked after all. I opened my mouth to say, ‘Sure. I’ll ask all the goblins,’ but what came out was, “It was me. I’m dating the Goblin Authority.”

I slapped a hand over my mouth while everyone stared at me in growing alarm. I stumbled away from the group, but Portalia gestured, and the next moment I was surrounded, Winston as well. He managed to look comfortable in the midst of a foaming sea of rage.

“What did you do?!” Portalia wailed while everyone else stared at me with shock and horror. I’d betrayed them, me, someone they’d trusted.

I shook my head, raising my hands. “Nothing! I didn’t compel anyone. I was just asking some uncomfortable questions.”

“About those murders like you used our circle for the last time? How did you deny the summoning? How did you…” She pointed a waxy nail at me. “It’s the new magic inside of you, turning you into a true abomination!”

Well, that kind of hurt my feelings.

“Nonsense,” Winston snapped, his voice loud and strong. “You’re feeding into the cycle of superstitious fear. That is exactly what will be your own undoing. Rynne was doing her duty as a police officer of Singsong City. There’s nothing twisted about her or her magic. And goblins can be extremely useful allies, particularly if you’re worried about property damage, or more personal kinds. You need to control this situation, and I have a platform on which you can do it.”

“What do you mean?” my mother asked, looking from him to me with growing alarm. “She’s not a police officer.”

It was suddenly so quiet, you could hear the daggers in my mother’s eyes stab me right through the heart. I edged away from her, shaking my head. “I’m not,” I insisted, although my tongue wanted to tell her everything so loudly that everyone could hear.

She pointed at Winston. “You said that she’s a police officer.”

“Did I? I must have been thinking about someone else,” Winston said, backtracking, throwing me an apologetic look, like that could take back the horrific crime of blackmailing me and then exposing me anyway after I capitulated.

I edged away from the group, but they were herding me into the big oak tree, where they’d probably hang me.

“Rynne,” my mother snapped, pointing a purple painted nail at me. “Tell me the truth!”

“I…” I struggled to not say anything, to somehow escape, but the more I struggled, the harder and colder her eyes became, until I was looking at a stranger.

“You’re a police officer. After all the times I explained that a witch couldn’t be under someone else’s authority, because it would eat away your loyalty to the coven and your family, but you did it anyway,” my mother said, shaking her head, lips turning white she was pressing them together so hard. “And that’s what you’ve been lying about all this time? This is the cause that you devoted your life and soul to? Following someone else’s orders and all for what? The police do nothing for anyone who isn’t an angel or a fairy. You’re feeding the system that oppresses you!”

Portalia moved in, jabbing a sharp finger at me. So many pointy fingers. So much jabbing. “You are no member of our coven if you’re sworn in to protect the city over your own.”

I pushed her hands away. “It’s not like that. I want to change the system. I want to be part of the solution. You can’t do that from the outside. I’m still a witch, but we need to all work together.”

My mother said, voice rising, “Work together? You’ve been wasting your magic, your potential, covering it with lies and falsehoods that eat it away! You could have been stronger if only you’d been true to yourself. I had to spell you to truth, but that was weeks ago. Your lies have become part of you.”

A sharp dagger pierced into my heart and twisted. My mother had put a truth spell on me? That was more than intrusive. That was a betrayal. Mr. Raccoon scrambled through the crowd, hissing and scratching so that the witches backed off, looking startled and shocked.

Let’s bite them all! His voice rang in my head, like a battle cry. Of course it did. He was picking up on my emotions, but he hadn’t learned to cover them up with a polite facade.

I took a steadying breath and scooped him up, squeezing him tight for a second. “You put a truth spell on me? You’ll never let me live my own life. I’m not you. I’m not any of you,” I said, glaring around at the other witches. “You claim to want to be free, but heaven forbid anyone else chooses a different kind of freedom. I want to make a difference! That’s what I’m doing. If you can’t respect that, or understand that, or me, then I don’t belong in this coven. Or this family,” I added, giving my mother a look that was probably too hurt, too honest. Then again, she’s the one who wanted the truth.

I spun around and marched away, clinging to my raccoon and not looking back.