Wild Fire

  “Yeah, but you both tend to think that way.” Russell pulled up a chair and sat across from her. “Is there a way to call off the bounty hunters?”

  She lifted a hand, palm up. “Put a bounty on them?”

  Russell frowned. “Are you serious?”

  “No. Even Andreas doesn’t have enough money to cover all of them. Besides, the elders would probably outbid him.” She rested her elbow on the table and propped up her chin. “I can’t think of a way to stop them from coming, so we’ll just have to pick them off one by one. We need more eyes and ears, but going public could cause a lot of fear in the human community.”

  “Maybe you could talk with your friend at the Clarion. He’s been discreet in the past, hasn’t he? I’m sure he could make up something that would put people on alert without starting a riot.”

  “Eddie’s good at making things up.” Despite the distrust that often existed between law enforcement and the press, the redheaded reporter had done her a favor or two, and she’d repaid him with exclusive stories when she could. “It might be worth a try. In the meantime, we’ll need to monitor local airports and other transportation facilities for suspicious characters.”

  “What about international flights?”

  “I know just the guy that might help.” She set her coffee down and stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  She left Russell finishing his coffee and took the stairs two at a time. When she threw open her bedroom door, she startled the cats. Bella blinked at her from her windowsill bed; Dona strolled over to wind around her legs.

  “Sorry, girl. No time now.” She sat down at the white Queen Anne desk that Andreas had chosen to match the rest of her furniture and dug in the top drawer until she found a small business card: Horatio Jones, Retired. She chuckled. Typically vague. Un-retired from the spy business when she’d met him during a previous case. He’d been working for Homeland Security, but he was a former CIA agent with a pronounced British accent and impeccable manners. He might have all kinds of strings he could pull. She grabbed the card, stopped to give each feline a pat on the head, and dashed back downstairs.

  “I’m ready to go now,” she announced, entering the kitchen. “I can make the necessary calls from the lab.”

  * * *

  The Otherworld Forensics and Research Laboratory hummed with activity even at 7:30 in the morning. Ari made her way between the rows of ceramic-topped tables filled with beakers and other scientific paraphernalia. Russell followed, acting bored, but his eyes scanned the room.

  Ari waved at Cillian, resplendent today in pink and white, but stopped at a row of cauldrons. An old wizard tended half a dozen simmering pots, stirring occasionally and adding ingredients by some criteria known only to him. Ari watched for a minute but didn’t see him consult a checklist or recipe.

  “Excuse me. Is there someone who can help me with counterspells or anything that dilutes magical power?”

  The wizard didn’t vary from his task or even look at her. “Henry, red goatee, row three.”

  Henry with the red goatee was easy to spot. The short, chubby wood nymph stood on a box in row three and had more hair in his slender beard than on his shiny head. The box enabled him to reach a large book open on the table. He whistled cheerfully as he read.

  “You must be Henry.”

  “That’s true.” He marked his place and peered at her, his eyes going round with surprise. “What would the guardian be wanting with me?”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “I need your help. I have a dangerous warlock on the loose.”

  “A single warlock? That doesn’t sound like much of a challenge.”

  Ari cocked her head at him. “He’s using black magic and a book of demon lore called the Maleficus.”

  Henry’s grin faded. “Oh my.”

  “He’s already set three buildings on fire, bound my fire magic, and is teleporting around town blowing things up.”

  Henry paled. “Holy Mother Earth. What can I do?”

  “Help me figure out how to stop him.”

  The wood nymph rested a finger against his chin, then jumped down from his box. “Come with me. I have a few ideas.”

  He headed toward the library. When the librarian appeared, Henry rattled off a list of books he wanted, then climbed into a chair at a long table.

  Ari sent Russell to wait by the door for Lilith. The lioness had sent a text message with her list of potential guards for Andreas; Ari had thumbed in OK and sent it back. Lilith should arrive soon. Besides, Russell’s hovering was making her uncomfortable, and he couldn’t add anything to their current activities. She wasn’t likely to be attacked by one of the lab techs.

  “I’m no good at research,” he admitted, “but I’ll make sure you aren’t interrupted. I wouldn’t put it past Gerhard to try to blow up the lab.”

  “I hadn’t even thought of that. If you see him, don’t hesitate to shoot. No one will care if he’s not around to answer questions.”

  Russell gave a grim nod and strode purposefully toward the entrance.

  She joined Henry at the table. He already had his head buried in a book. “Should I be searching for something specific?”

  “Spells that sap your magical strength. They’re of short duration, but might help, especially if you surprise him. If you carried a few in your pocket, you could use them every time he appeared—until he found the correct counterspell.” He gave her a half grin. “We’ll make it hard to counter by picking an obscure spell or adding an ingredient he wouldn’t expect.”

  “What keywords do I look for in the books?”

  “Weakening, diluting, impairing. Anything similar.”

  “What about a dispersal spell?”

  Henry scrunched his face in thought. “Not a bad idea. They’re different than what I had in mind. It would break his spells into pieces, making them much harder to maintain. Along those same lines, we might consider fluxors.” He pulled on his goatee. “Yes, fluctuations in power might cause his spells to crash, and the fluxors are more rare.” Henry rubbed his hands together. “This is an intriguing challenge.”

  A deadly challenge. “It sounds like we have a lot of research ahead, and I have a few calls to make. I’ll do those first, then get started.” She stood and walked across the room so her conversations wouldn’t disturb his reading. She needn’t have bothered. Henry didn’t take his nose out of the book.

  Ari dialed Ryan and told him about the early morning attack on Andreas and the need for someone to watch transportation for likely bounty hunters.

  “Tom’s keeping an eye on the city airport,” Ryan told her, “but we’ll alert the private air strips, trains, bus depots and car rentals. I wouldn’t hold out much hope. We’ll get some false leads. A lot of people appear suspicious who aren’t.”

  “I know, and dangerous characters can look like upstanding citizens. But some places hire off duty cops or trained security. They’re better at spotting trouble.”

  “Anything else?”

  Ari sighed. “I’ve got Lilith and Russell as body guards. You know how much I love that. On the upside, I’ve found someone at the magic lab to help me with research, and he has a good theory for dealing with Gerhard. I’m also going to call Horatio Jones.”

  “The CIA guy? Why?”

  “Maybe he can get someone to check for known hit men on international flights coming to Riverdale.”

  “Can’t hurt. We’re combing the hotels and motels in case Gerhard rented a room somewhere. From what you’ve said about him, I can’t imagine he’s hanging out in a cave or tent without modern conveniences.”

  She gave a short laugh. “True enough. But he could be anywhere within a hundred miles or so, depending how far he can teleport.”

  “We’re putting out a lot of feelers, Ari. We can’t cover everything, but I believe we’ll eventually get a tip. Call it cop instinct, but I feel we’re close to something.”

  “Yeah. I just hope it’s something good.”

  She hu
ng up and pulled Horatio Jones’s card out of her pocket. She reached an answering service and left a message, then made her way back to Henry, who was still engrossed in his reading.

  Ari settled in her chair, picked up the first book, and glanced toward the front entrance to see Lilith walking in the door. The lioness waved and gave her the OK sign, letting her know that Andreas’s bodyguards were in place. Ari flipped the book open and scanned through the list of spells.

  By the end of the morning, Henry had piles of books stacked around him with small scraps of paper marking passages to be reviewed or copied. Ari had two pages of notes but nothing that struck her as the answer. At noon, Henry disappeared into the back of the building with a brief “See you later.”

  Ari invited Cillian to join them for sandwiches at the Daily Diner. The unpretentious eatery with its vinyl floors, square tables and sturdy booths was popular with the take-out crowd. Ari and her companions didn’t have to wait long before a booth opened up. Four barbecue sandwiches and a pot of coffee took care of their table.

  “So tell me what you’ve been doing all morning,” Cillian asked, dipping a fry into a pile of ketchup.

  Ari explained the kind of spells they were researching. “Henry seems to be doing OK. He doesn’t talk much, but he started whistling half an hour ago. I hope that’s a positive sign. Otherwise it’s just annoying, and the librarian has already frowned at us several times.” She shoved her half-eaten sandwich aside and sipped on her coffee.

  “Henry’s a terrific researcher,” Cillian said. “I’m sure he’ll find something.”

  Ari shrugged and looked at Russell. “Who were the men you were talking with just before we left the lab?”

  “Security. Someone at the Magic Council read your reports and assigned additional guards to the lab.”

  “I’m glad to know someone reads them, and that the council took action. Who knows what Gerhard will do next.” Ari’s phone rang. “Excuse me.” She glanced at the ID. “Hi, Ryan.”

  “Can you shake free long enough for a trip to the airport? Tom has a couple of suspicious passengers on an incoming flight. One of them on an old airport watch list.”

  “A terrorist watch list?”

  “That’s what he said. It’s outdated, so it may be nothing. Where are you? I’ll pick you up, and we’ll check it out.”

  “We’re at the diner but almost finished.”

  “I’ll be out front in ten minutes. I’ve got the unmarked car, and I’ll clear the back seat for your bodyguards.” He chuckled as he hung up.

  Ari said good-bye to Cillian, who promised to tell Henry where she’d gone, and the rest of them were waiting on the curb when Ryan arrived. Another twenty minutes, and Ari, Ryan, and the werelions were talking with Tom at the airport.

  “The suspects are on a flight from Atlanta that lands in fifteen minutes.” He led them across the terminal toward the arrival gates.

  Passengers watched and whispered as they passed. Ari struggled not to grin. They weren’t exactly inconspicuous. Tom was wearing a security uniform, and Lilith and Russell’s firearms were visible. If someone looked closely, they’d probably spot her own shoulder holster. And Ryan had cop written all over him.

  “I followed up with the FBI as you asked,” Tom said to Ryan. “The most common reason for removing names from the watch list is mistaken identity or lack of ongoing contact with terrorist groups.”

  “So this guy’s been downgraded to an everyday variety of killer, huh?” Ryan grumbled with typical cop sarcasm.

  “Apparently, sir.” Tom gave no indication he recognized the irony. “I thought we’d wait here.” He stopped well short of gate 7C. “We radioed the plane. The flight attendant will point out the suspect and his companion as they come through the gate.” He gestured toward the arrival doors. “They’ll come right by us, and you can take them into custody then. It should cause less fuss.”

  Within five minutes the arrival gate opened and a flight attendant stepped out. She spotted Tom when he raised a hand, and she nodded once. Then the passengers began to come through the door. The first dozen appeared to be ordinary tourists. The next two men looked like muscle for the mafia, big, burly, tough, but the flight attendant paid no attention to them. A minute later, she pointed her chin at a pair walking past her.

  Ari frowned in surprise. The suspect looked about twenty-two, his female companion a little older. Clean-cut collegiate types. Neither seemed the kind to carry or use a weapon.

  Ryan pulled the couple aside. They were hustled into the airport security office and searched.

  “What is it you think we’ve done?” the man protested. “I don’t have any liquids or sharp objects.” His companion was so cowed she hadn’t said a word, except murmuring his name a couple of times, accompanied by frantic eye movements.

  “It says here that you’re thirty-three. Is that correct?” Ryan examined the suspect’s driver’s license for tampering.

  “Yeah, I had a beard for a while. I guess I shouldn’t have shaved it off. It makes me look older.”

  He could still pass for a college kid: 5 ft 7 inches, 145 pounds, slender frame. His girlfriend was even more petite.

  “Did you know you’re on a watch list?” Ryan asked. He dropped the ID on Tom’s desk, the only furniture in the room except for two straight-backed chairs.

  The guy frowned. “That was years ago. Ten or twelve at least.”

  “So you knew you were on the list? What did you do to get there?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Give me the short version.”

  He gave them a rueful look. “I was in college at the time, and well, kinda anti-establishment, I guess. We had this computer club, and we, uh, tried to hack into the Pentagon.”

  Ari refrained from rolling her eyes.

  Ryan lifted a brow “And got caught. What happened after that?”

  “FBI was all over us. Five years’ probation and the watch list. I couldn’t even get on an airplane in those days.” He sighed. “I thought that was finally behind me.”

  Computer hackers, not terrorists or killers. But what about the two Mafia types she saw?

  She closed her eyes briefly, then walked into the concourse, leaving Ryan to finish up with the young couple. If she was going to be suspicious of every tough-looking person she saw, she’d go crazy.

  Russell and Lilith followed her out, and the lioness grabbed her arm. “You’re frowning. Did you see or sense something back there?”

  Ari shook off her funk. “No. I’m just relieved it was a false alarm this time.”

  Ryan, Tom, and the former suspects exited the security room. As Ryan watched the young couple hurry away, he thanked Tom for being so alert. “I’d rather question a dozen innocent people than let the wrong ones sneak past us. Good work.”

  The young officer assured Ryan he’d call if anything else turned up.

  Ryan dropped them back at the lab. Before Ari closed the door, he stopped her. “If you finish before five, swing by the station. I should have reports from our patrol officers by then.”

  “OK, but don’t count on it. We have a lot of books to go through.”

  “Better you than me.”

  But when Ari got to the library section, Henry wasn’t there, and most of the books they’d been using were gone.

  She located him back on row three, whistling to himself as he mixed various ingredients in a rack of test tubes. He was reading from a photocopied page that appeared to be a checklist with hand-jotted notes along the edges.

  “Hi, Henry. Sorry I was gone so long. What are you mixing?”

  “A spell for you, of course.” He smoothed his goatee. “I think I have the gist of it. I’m just working out the precise ingredients and words.”

  “What kind of spell?”

  “A modified fluxor.” He gave her a look of approval. “You marked a wonderful passage in that last book. It fit in perfectly with what I had found.” He waved a hand dismissing her. “I wor
k better on my own. With any luck, I’ll have a spell by morning to give Gerhard a big surprise.”

  “Bless you, Henry.”

  He blushed, then hid his face. “Go away now.”

  She heard the smile in his voice.

  * * *

  It was only 3:30 p.m. when Ari bounded up the stairs of the police station to Ryan’s third floor office. Her enthusiasm over Henry’s success faded upon hearing the police efforts had failed to turn up any trace of Gerhard. Ryan knew lots of places where he wasn’t, which included the majority of the lodging for rent or lease in Riverdale, from sleazy motels available by the hour to elegant sublets.

  “We knew it was a long shot.” Ari kicked her toe lightly against Ryan’s desk. “He wants us to know he’s here, but he doesn’t want us to actually find him until he’s ready. He likes to be in control.”

  “Who doesn’t.”

  She looked up and gave him a half smile. “True.”

  “A couple of officers are going back tomorrow and showing his picture to those who expressed doubts or said they couldn’t remember.” He leaned back in his desk chair. “What do you suppose he’s doing? Hanging out watching TV? Drinking beer somewhere? It’s been thirteen hours since he hit the compound.”

  She grimaced. “I guess he has to sleep sometime.”

  “Maybe he left. Teleported out of here and flew back to Germany from another city. Did you get ahold of your CIA friend?”

  “No, I left a message, but haven’t heard back.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll try him again.”

  Still no answer. She left a second message.

  She smiled picturing the portly gentleman. “Who knows what time it is where he is. Horatio could be anywhere in the world. He’s supposed to be retired, but I got the impression he jumped in whenever the agency had a mission for him.”

  “What’s a Britisher doing working for the CIA?”

  “I haven’t asked.” She looked at the readout as her cell phone rang. “I guess I could ask him now.” She clicked it on. “Hello, Horatio.”

  “Arianna, you cannot imagine how delighted I was to hear from you. I would have responded earlier, but I was making calls on your behalf. Have you located this Kirsch fellow yet?”