Magic in the Shadows

  Like teenagers sneaking a keg into our parent’s basement, Zay, Shamus, and I managed to smuggle Stone into my building and up the three flights of stairs to my apartment without getting caught. Sure, we could have used Illusion to cloak him, but no one suggested it. I didn’t know about the boys, but I was exhausted and had had enough magic to last me a while.

  Our luck held. Nola wasn’t back from getting Cody, which worried me until I realized it was only ten o’clock. Paperwork and processing can take a lot of time. And they might have stopped off for a late dinner, or, heck, gone out to a movie, for all I knew.

  Once inside the apartment, Stone lifted up onto his hind legs and waddled off to the bathroom, clicking all the way. The hiss of water turning on and off was accompanied by his clicks.

  “Now, that’s good fun,” Shamus said. “He has a thing for water?”

  “Just the bathroom sink so far,” I said.

  Shamus headed down the hall and looked in on him. “Hey, fella. You like the sink?”

  Stone just clicked and hummed. I had no idea if it was an answer.

  “Do you want me to take him somewhere else?” Zayvion asked.

  “Shamus? Yes, please.”

  He smiled. “Stone. Back to the restaurant?”

  All I could think of was the chain that held him down there, and how he had pleaded for me to release him. “I don’t think he’d make a very good statue anymore,” I said. “His world has gotten a lot bigger now.”

  Zay caught my double meaning, and nodded. He strolled over to my window and looked out. “Can’t let him loose on the street all alone. Even if the Necromorph is under lock and key, there’s a lot of dangerous things still out there.”

  “I’ll see if he’ll stay here during the day. Maybe let him out at night. He’s been free for a few days already. I haven’t heard any reports of a gargoyle loose in the city. He knows how to stay hidden. Knows how to take care of himself.”

  “If someone who is part of the Authority sees him, or if the police or Stotts sees him, you’ll have to give him up.”

  “I know.”

  Zayvion turned. “He might not last long anyway. There isn’t a lot of information on animates. A few old stories about magic users—Hands—making golems and other creatures. Those histories are more story than history, though.”

  “Speaking of Hands,” I said. “When you Closed Cody, did you see his spirit?” I asked.

  “No.” Zayvion drew the word out, asking me to explain.

  “I saw him. His spirit. At the gate. He was there. He made me promise to make this right for everyone. Then he jumped into the gate and closed it.”

  Zayvion was suddenly very quiet and very focused. “He did what?”

  “Jumped into the gate.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “You want to tell me how that is any weirder than everything else that happened tonight?” I asked.

  “He’s not dead,” he said.

  “Cody? I know. Nola just got cleared to foster him.”

  “Yes.” Zayvion held up one hand. “Cody is still alive. But that part of him, the part of him I Closed, should have stayed within him. He shouldn’t be dead.”

  “He said his mind was broken before and he was just half of himself. That he couldn’t reach the rest of himself when he was Closed.”

  Zay rubbed at the back of his neck and stared at his shoes for a minute, thinking. “So Cody is alive and dead, so to speak. Your dad is alive and dead, so is Greyson, and Mikhail. This is a disturbing trend.”

  I rubbed my hands through my hair. Bad move. One, I was sore, so putting my hands up over my head made everything ache. Two, my hair was in serious need of brushing.

  “Is that something we need to deal with tonight?” I asked.

  He must have caught how tired I sounded. He walked over to me, put both his warm palms against my arms. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but then I wasn’t trying to.

  “No. Not tonight.”

  Shamus strolled into the living room. “High-larious, that rock. Kind of wish he were mine.”

  Zayvion pulled away. “He’s not, so don’t get any smart ideas.”

  “Please. I have some morals,” he said loftily. “Ready?”

  Zayvion nodded. Then, to me, “I need to go back. There will be a council meeting called. I’ll need to be there.”

  “Will I see you later?”

  Shamus was already at the door, looking out through it before he opened it. Such a small gesture, but so telling. Zay was right, there still were dangerous things out there. Maybe more than I knew.

  It just might be time for me to buy some decent Wards for my door.

  “If I don’t see you tomorrow, I’ll come by in the evening,” he said.

  “Good luck.”

  That made him smile, and I liked the look of it on him. “You too. Lock the door.”

  And then Zayvion and Shamus were gone, out my door, which I did indeed lock behind them.

  Stone trotted out of the bathroom and sat next to me, staring at the door.

  I wondered if it was going to hurt to have Zayvion so far from me. I closed my eyes and thought about him.A warmth filled my chest like a glowing orb. I had a tactile knowledge that Zayvion was alive, and a part of me in a way he never had been before, soul to soul. It was a good feeling, a gentle knowledge. It probably should have freaked me out, since I wasn’t sure I was all that good at that kind of commitment, but I wasn’t up to worrying about it.

  I rested my hand on Stone’s smooth head. “What a mess,” I muttered.

  Stone cooed his soft vacuum cleaner sound.

  “Speaking of messes, what am I going to do with you?” I asked him. “Do you sleep?”

  He tipped his head. I didn’t think he understood me, but he trotted across the floor and into my bedroom, where he curled up in the corner, the curtain draped over his back, his big head rested on his arms. He didn’t close his eyes. He just stared and looked very much like a nonbreathing statue.

  “Close enough,” I said. I thought about taking a shower and decided against it, and for coffee instead. I checked my phone messages—there were none—and looked for a note from Nola. Nothing.

  As I was pouring the fresh brew into my favorite mug, the handle of my door jiggled. Then keys slipped into the lock.

  Only Nola and my manager had keys to my apartment.

  The door opened and I heard Nola’s voice.

  “. . . just for tonight, okay? Go ahead, you’re okay.”

  I walked out of the kitchen and leaned against the doorway. “Hi.”

  Nola smiled at me. Next to her was Cody. He looked a lot like his spirit self, thin, pale. Blue summer eyes. But behind those eyes was a childlike hesitation. He somehow looked much younger than his ghost.

  He looked at the room and at me. Recognition lit his face. “Pretty.”

  I smiled even though I no longer had my memory of actually meeting him. I did, however, remember how I felt about him. Sad, I think. Maybe even protective.

  “Hi, Cody. It’s good to see you again. Would you like to see my house?”

  Cody looked over at Nola, who nodded encouragingly. “Go ahead. She likes you.”

  Cody smiled. “Pretty.” He wiggled his fingers in the air again. “Magic.”

  Wasn’t that interesting?

  He wandered into my living room, holding his hands against his chest, as if afraid to touch anything.

  “How’d it go?” I asked Nola.

  “Long. Difficult. But everything’s taken care of. I picked up some dinner. Have you eaten?”

  She wasn’t carrying anything but her purse.

  “Not really.”

  I heard footsteps and the crinkle of a paper bag. Then Detective Paul Stotts was there, two bags in his hands.

  “Hello, Allie,” he said.

  “Hello,” I said to one of the last men in this city I wanted to see right now. “Come on in.”

  He walked past me into the kitchen,
where he proceeded to unpack cartons of Chinese food. Nola shut the door.

  I probably should have panicked. The head of the MERC was in my house and so was the gargoyle who’d followed me home. But after tonight, it would take more than that to get me to jump.

  From the other room, I heard Cody’s delighted cry. “There you are! I missed you.”

  “You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you, Paul?” Nola asked.

  He shook his head. “I can’t tonight. How about breakfast tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” She took off her coat and hung in on the back of my door.

  Detective Stotts strolled out of the kitchen and stopped next to me. “I don’t have any leads on the case in St. Johns yet,” he said. “Someone destroyed the crime scene. The evidence is gone. But we have some promising information.”

  “Oh,” I said, trying to look surprised. Trying not to look like I was dating the guy responsible for destroying the crime scene.

  “Have you heard anything more about Davy?” I asked.

  Nola answered, “Just that he’s stable. Sid said they’ll call here tomorrow.”

  I took a drink of coffee and wondered whether I’d have time to go see him in the morning. Probably.

  “Have you thought about my offer?” Stotts asked me.

  Offer? I frowned. Finally remembered. He wanted me to work for him. I hadn’t thought about it since my life had taken the short road to crazy town. It seemed like a really bad idea to take a job Hounding for a cursed secret magic police officer, with everything else on my plate.

  Which would mean he would ask another Hound to work for him. Maybe Sid, Bea, Davy.

  An image of Davy’s broken, bloody body floated through my head.

  Shit.

  “I thought about it,” I said. “And I’d like to take the job.”

  He nodded. “Excellent. I’ll have the contract drawn up. Come by the station and we’ll go over the details.” He held out his hand for me.

  What the hell. I shook it.

  “Welcome to the force,” he said. “I hope this will be a long and productive career for you.”

  The irony was not lost on me. “Thanks.”

  Stotts turned to Nola, and the whole police-detective demeanor changed. “Congratulations,” he said softly.

  Nola beamed. “Thank you. For everything. It would have taken me days to get through all the legal tangles.”

  “My pleasure.” He bent and gave her a brief hug.

  I suddenly felt like the three of a crowd, so I walked off, leaving them their privacy.

  I found Cody sitting on the floor of my bedroom, his arm around Stone’s neck, chatting away at him, like he’d just found a lost friend.

  And maybe he had.

  “Everything okay, Cody?” I asked.

  He smiled at me. “Sleeping. That’s okay. He’ll be back.”

  That’s great, I thought. How was I going to explain that to Nola?

  “That’s great,” I said, with a lot less sarcasm. “Dinner’s ready. Come on out and we’ll eat.”

  “Eat?” His face clouded over.

  “After dinner you can have a cookie with a secret note in it.”

  “Cookie?”

  “That’s right.” I held out my hand for him.

  He stared at my hand, then patted Stone’s head and took my hand.

  At his touch, magic stirred in me.

  “Pretty,” Cody said. “Magic. Like me.”

  “Think so?” I asked him. He nodded and nodded.

  I led him out of the bedroom and shut the door. Nola had already set the food out on the little table for the three of us. Stotts was gone.

  Once he saw the food, Cody didn’t need any more encouragement. He sat down and contentedly began eating it with a spoon.

  “So,” Nola said, as I took my seat to one side of her. “How was your day?”

  “You don’t want to know.” I got busy with the chop-sticks, and for just a little while, pretended like everything in my life was back to normal.

  Chapter Twenty

  We made up a place for Cody to sleep on the couch, and Nola slept on the living room floor on an air mattress she’d been smart enough to buy.

  I slept in my own bed, alone except for the gargoyle who was silent and still by my window.

  When morning rolled around, I heard Nola and Cody get up. Heard them each take a shower. Smelled coffee being made. But I pulled a pillow over my head and ignored it all. I was every kind of tired that had a name. And it wasn’t nearly light enough outside for me to drag myself out of my warm blankets.

  A soft knock at my door, and then Nola’s voice. “Allie? Cody and I are going to go out to breakfast with Paul. After that, I might get Cody some clothes to take to my place. We won’t be home for a while. Coffee’s fresh in the kitchen.”

  Then I heard her patiently coaxing Cody into his coat, and a knock on the door that I could only assume was Detective Stotts. His voice was low and gentle in greeting, and then Nola and Cody and Stotts were all gone, the door shut and locked behind them.

  I pulled the pillow off my head and rolled over on my back, hogging the bed. It had never felt this good to be alone in my life.

  Bliss.

  Something shook the bed. That something was the size of a Saint Bernard and made out of rock, with opposable thumbs.

  Stone shook the bed again. When I didn’t respond on the third try, he made himself busy opening and closing my dresser drawers, then opening and shutting the closet door. Repeatedly.

  Oh, sweet hells.

  I propped up on my elbows. “Can’t a girl get some sleep?”

  Stone twisted his head to look over his wing at me. He crooned, but did not stop opening and closing the closet door.

  I moaned and got up.

  “Fine. You want out? Try using your thumbs on this door.” I opened the bedroom door.

  He trotted over and made a happy glass-marble clicking sound, then headed straight for the bathroom.

  “No way,” I said realizing there was about to be a half ton of rock between me and my morning shower. “Go talk to the kitchen sink.” I maneuvered around him in the small hallway, which gave me the willies and made it hard to breathe for a second. There was so not enough room in the hall for me and him at the same time.

  Still, it was worth it. I made it to the bathroom first and shut the door on Stone’s curious snout.

  “Kitchen,” I said through the door. Just in case that wasn’t a word the gargoyle knew, I locked the door.

  The shower woke me up the rest of the way and reminded me that I was full of aches. A headache—probably part of my payment for all the magic I’d been throwing around—started up at the back of my neck. There would be more to follow that. I tried to remember all the Disbursements I’d set. Fever, body ache. Head cold? Migraine? Too many to remember. I guessed I was just going to have to wait and find out.

  I got out of the shower and took a couple aspirins. Maybe I’d go out today and buy some of those glyphwork painkillers, some cold medicine, and chicken soup.

  I took my time drying off. Paid attention to my injuries and scars, a habit that was becoming a ritual. Besides the puncture wounds on my shoulder that seemed to be healing pretty well, I had a variety of scrapes and bruises.

  But it was the thin silver arc beneath my navel that really caught my notice. I tried to rub it off, but it didn’t so much as smear. A delicate symbol of eternity, the figure eight on its side, traced across my lower stomach, and in the light, silver touched with blue, rose, and green washed across it as I moved. It was like the marks down my arm, but different.

  I traced it, and remembered Zayvion’s fingers against my skin.

  I wondered if it would fade, or if this new mark was a part of me now.

  I wrapped my towel tighter around me and wandered off into the bedroom. I dressed, then headed into the kitchen for some of Nola’s coffee.

  Stone was not in the kitchen. He was, however, in the living room, his for
ehead pressed against the window, his batlike wings curved umbrellas over his shoulders as he stared out at the city.

  I walked over, coffee in one hand and patted his shoulder. “Nice, isn’t it?”

  It was raining outside, but a rainy day in Portland felt comfortable as an old pair of slippers.

  Stone clicked in agreement and continued to watch the people who walked the streets below.

  My thoughts wandered to Davy. Maybe the city only looked nice on the outside. On the inside, it found an awful lot of ways to hurt people. I decided to call the hospital to see how he was doing. The nurse on duty wouldn’t give me any information, which made sense since I wasn’t related to him. She could only confirm that he was still there, still in ICU. I thanked her and hung up. I’d just have to head down there and see if I could find anything out.

  But before I went anywhere else and did anything else, I needed to record the last few days in my book.

  I padded, barefoot, over to my coat and pulled out my little notebook. I took it and a fresh cup of coffee back to the table and worked on writing down everything that had happened in the last few days. It took a while, even though I was fast at this. And looking back over it, all I could do was shake my head.

  “I need a vacation,” I muttered. And from my notes, it was also clear I needed to call Violet and talk to her again about turning my dad’s company over to her.

  Better now than never.

  I dialed her number. Violet picked up on the second ring.

  “Beckstrom residence,” she said.

  “Hi, Violet. It’s Allie.”

  “I’m glad you called,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about your offer for me to take over as CEO of Beckstrom Enterprises.”

  A soft flutter brushed against the back of my eyes. Not as weak as before. Growing stronger. I had a sinking feeling in my gut that my father was recovering.

  I rubbed at my eyes to try and push the flutter away. No luck.

  “Great,” I said to Violet. “And what did you decide?”

  “To accept.”

  I exhaled with relief. I’d really been stressed about having to run my dad’s company, or handing it over into incompetent hands. “Good,” I said, trying to be nonchalant about it. “How do we make this happen?”

  “Leave that to me. I’ll get everything together and let you know when and how we’ll handle the transfer.”