Feral Magic: An Urban Fantasy Romance-Thriller

  * * *

  It wasn't long before the entire coven gathered in my sun room.

  “What, what's all this about?” I asked. “Griff and Cole and five people missing? I hope you can explain it better than Lilly did.”

  “Quickest answer first,” Leif said. “Lilly witnessed Cole and Griff argue. After this, Griff concealed something in a locker. Who knows what it was, though.”

  I exchanged glances with Mordon, who was the only other person comfortable sitting on the floor. He stroked his chin, brow furrowed, seeming confused to not have a bear to touch before repeating the process over again. His eyes lost focus.

  Lilly had talked about what she'd heard from the other two, but it hadn't made any sense while my mind was on the conversation with Mordon. Now that I'd wrapped my hear around the change in topic, things were starting to snap together.

  “Am I right to assume that our good Constable here turned up some missing cleansers?” I asked. “That's what it sounds like I'm hearing. And what's with the interest in them, anyway?”

  “Genuine bogey busters have a degree of magical talent, but not enough to be a threat to a full-fledged sorcerer. Lack of paper trail also makes them easy targets. There is nothing in the Constabulary records, but they only serve the sorcerers not the lamb population as well. I spoke with Cole's personal assistant. She revealed matters in a different light. In addition to Meredith Cole, Gregor's wife, there have been five house cleansers hired to the Cole residence. Zoe Harper, age fifty-two, from Clear Springs. Jim Davis, age thirty-six, from Desert View. Ethan Stagg, age sixty-eight, from Goblin Valley. Jasona Hill, age forty-four, from Redfish Lake. And Feraline Swift, age twenty—”

  “—something. That's not important. Thank you.”

  Mordon cocked his head, suddenly brought out of his thoughts. “Is it on the upside or downside of twenty-five?”

  “It doesn't matter, alright? I'm not a kid, but the second people know I'm under thirty, that's all I hear about.”

  “That is a downside,” Barnes said.

  Mordon's brow furrowed. “You're under twenty-five?”

  “Barnes!”

  “Man's got a right to know.”

  “Yeah, if I'm under eighteen, which I'm not. It's hard to be taken seriously in my line of work unless you look experienced and sagely.”

  Mordon raised a brow. “Sagely?”

  “For bogey busting, anyone young is assumed to be out for a couple of cheap thrills. Fun midnight storytelling, not work. And for potions, who wants someone new to the career when their health is on the line?”

  Barnes twitched his mustache. “She has a point.”

  “Everyone I saw on the potions deck had daughters or granddaughters my age. It's hard to be established before then.”

  Leif held up a finger. “Back to the subject, please. Barnes, the missing people?”

  “The assistant did not call them missing. The term was formerly hired. But I checked with Sheriff Bruder and he confirmed that no one has heard or seen of these people since.”

  Sheriffs navigated the murky water between the police and the Constables. They tended to be in rural areas, and there were very few of them. Being both from the murky water and a rural area, I happened to know Sheriff Bruder. I sighed.

  “What did Sam want to know?”

  Mordon raised a brow. “Sam?”

  “Sheriff Samuel J. Bruder, presently the only hired law enforcement from Bald Eagle Ridge to Goblin Valley. He's not a very cordial fellow. And he never gets back to you unless it is in his immediate best interest. So what did he want?”

  Barnes shifted his weight into a stronger position and crossed his arms. “I promised him five IOU’s on your behalf.”

  My jaw dropped. “Five?”

  “One for each name.”

  “Fantastic. He's going to use them all at once here in a few months when he's in a tight spot, you know. Mark my words. We'll all regret this.”

  “It won't be that bad.”

  “Yes, it will. He'll use them when he's in such a bad place that no one else will come near him with a ten foot pole.”

  “He was glad to know you were safe.”

  “I'll bet. He's always glad to keep useful people in his pocket.”

  Mordon cocked his head, intrigued, but I wasn't interested in going down that rabbit hole. I'd get myself so worked up that I wouldn't break free from the frustration for days. All I said was, “Some things are better left in the past. You'll hear the whole deal when he cashes in on those IOU's.”

  Barnes saw I wasn't going to speak again. “The fact remains that the Cole residence was the last place any of these people were seen alive. With the exception of you.”

  Lilly paced back and forth, wondering aloud, “Why? What does he want with a few ghost chasers?”

  Leif said, “I heard rumors that Gregor Cole has an item that stores individual lives. It's an access point into the after life. And that someone can exchange one life for another. In short, that you can bring a person back from the dead.”

  Mordon frowned. “Is this item a vase?”

  “They did not say.”

  “If it is what I think that it is, then I know that is not how the 'item' operates.”

  Leif shifted restlessly. “They seem to believe they can trade lives across Death, and that some people's lives cost more to exchange than others.”

  I felt a stone sink in my stomach. Slowly, I asked Mordon, “How did you get the Lady of the Vase?”

  A flash of surprise crossed his face. “It was a trade for an Earhart compass much like yours.”

  “Did you know what the vase was?”

  “If I had, I would not have agreed to the transaction.”

  I nodded, considering how Mordon must have felt once he had finished up his research on the vase only to find out that he was in charge of a mobile evil-wizard prison. “And now you think it's your responsibility.”

  He lifted a shoulder.

  Lilly said, “I feel like I'm missing something.”

  Mordon said, “We need to get it back. Or at least out of Griff's hands. That is what is important.”

  Interesting that he didn't want to tell everyone the full story behind the Lady of the Vase. He'd had no trouble with writing it down in the antiquities book. He must have his reasons. Maybe he thought it was all a strange bit of lore, not fact with solid sources.

  “So,” I said, “we have a supposedly soul-trading item that Griff may have stolen from Mordon and now Cole is harassing Griff, who proceeds to hide something in the market. Think it's connected?”

  “Seems likely,” Leif said. “Do you have an idea of how?”

  I shook my head. “Not exactly. I think we first need to find out what Griff doesn't want Cole to have.”

  Lilly said, “He'll bolt if he sees Barnes, Leif, or me. And Mordon draws too much attention.”

  “Easy solution. I'll do it. All we have to do is find a way to let me inside without anyone freaking out about feral magic.”