“Fuck you, Victor. How about you put me on trial for his death instead?”
“Shamus,” Zayvion said, low and calm. “You’ll have your time. Not now.”
Shame looked up at Zayvion. Feral anger in those eyes, in the clench of his teeth. The crystal in his chest burned bloodred. “I don’t need your permission.”
“Take him outside,” Victor snapped.
Terric slipped around from behind the other side of Victor, and then he was next to Shame. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Shame, but opposite, so that he looked away from Jingo, toward Victor. I don’t know what he said, but it must have surprised Shame. He looked sharply over at Terric. Then the heat, the fury, drained out of him. The anger was still there, but so was something else. Resolve. I had a feeling Terric had just offered to help him kill Jingo Jingo in his sleep later, no matter what Victor wanted.
I hoped I was wrong.
“Don’t fucking screw this up,” Shame said to Victor and Zay in equal measures. Then he stormed past us all, Terric pacing behind him and giving Zayvion and Victor a short nod.
I wanted to ask him what he’d said but didn’t have time. They were gone, and Victor and Zayvion knelt next to Jingo, pulling Sight spells to track the magic used on him.
“Should I call the doctor?” I asked Sunny, who stood next to me, looking a little sick to her stomach.
“We already did. She’s going to meet us at the hospital, where he’ll be taken care of before he’s transferred to the prison.”
Carl and La walked in with a rolling stretcher. I had no idea where they got that, but it looked just like the ones an ambulance would carry.
“Make way,” Carl said.
I realized I was just one more body in an increasingly tight space. Outside sounded really good right now. I turned to leave.
“I done what you said,” Jingo Jingo whispered. “You hear me, Daniel Beckstrom?”
Chills ran down my spine. He was talking to my father.
“I done what you said; now you owe me. Owe me.” He coughed, a wet, horrible hacking.
Victor glanced at me. “We’ll talk to your father about this soon. Step out. We’ll deal with this back at my place, where we won’t have to worry about the neighbors hearing.”
I got out of there as fast as I could.
Shame was pacing and smoking and swearing on the deck. Terric leaned against the rail, one boot propped up behind him, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the floor planks. He was talking calmly between Shame’s outbursts and also keeping a heck of a nice Mute and Diversion spell going so that people wouldn’t want to look this way, and even if they did they wouldn’t hear Shame’s tirade.
I didn’t want to get in the way of that, so I walked over the gangplank and back out onto the dock.
He wants me to testify for him, Dad said in my mind.
I don’t think your good word will do Jingo Jingo any favors.
Victor has a Truth spell binding me. He will know that I speak the truth. Jingo Jingo did not want to betray the Authority.
Really? Because he did a bang-up job of it.
He was acting on orders.
Whose?
Mikhail’s.
And you think that will prove he’s innocent? Mikhail tried to kill us. He’s not on the Good Guy list. Alive or dead.
You have to let me talk to Victor.
Not right now.
“Allie?” It was Hayden, strolling down the dock toward me. I looked around and realized I was near the stairs, wanting my feet on solid land again.
“We could use a hand back there,” he said. “Flynn’s no good to us, and I’m afraid if we jiggle Terric too hard, Flynn’s going to blow apart.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Any good at faking spells?”
“What?”
“There’s a mess back there that needs cleaning up. Clean enough a Hound won’t be able to track it back to us, or to what really happened.”
“That’s destroying evidence.”
“Oh, I suppose you can look at it that way.” He rubbed a hand over his beard. “See, my idea was to just sink the boat, but Victor thinks that’s a little heavy-handed.”
“Is it Jingo’s boat?”
He grinned. “No. It belongs to your father. Or I suppose to you now.”
Fab. Just what I needed. A magical crime on one of my father’s ex-properties. “Fine. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather take the time to actually clean the magic out of the thing.”
“Makes no never mind to me. Ask Victor. He’s the boss.”
We strode back toward the boat and moved aside so that Carl, La, and a very uninterested Sunny could maneuver Jingo Jingo and the stretcher down the way. Shame stopped pacing and glared at Jingo, then up at the shore behind us. I looked over my shoulder. Dr. Fisher was there, and behind her was an ambulance.
The Authority had an ambulance?
No, more likely the Authority had a few EMTs working for them and Dr. Fisher called the injury in. Made sense that they’d take him to the hospital. I wondered what they’d forge the records to say? Meth-lab accident? Blood magic backfire?
Now that members of the Authority had taken sides about magic, I wondered if the people in record fixing and media exposure were on our side.
A leak like this—that strange magical technology had been used to kidnap, cage, and nearly kill someone, and it had all happened below the notice of the law—would make for headline news and a lot of damage control for the Authority.
But since I hadn’t heard of any new magic crimes, I had to assume the cover-up teams were still part of the good guys.
Jingo had said Dane Lanister broke Sedra out. If that were true, I couldn’t think of why he didn’t just kill Jingo Jingo. Man had a gun and wasn’t afraid to use it. He was furious Sedra had been kidnapped.
And now that he had rescued her, he should be calling in, to Maeve or Victor, to let them know. Unless he didn’t think Victor and Maeve deserved to be Voices in the Authority.
Factions inside factions. Who knew what side Dane was on?
I stepped back into the boat and held my breath. It didn’t smell nearly as bad as before. Someone must have cast a Dispel.
Victor and Zay both held forms of Sight in their left hands and were going over the scene of the crime.
“Need a hand?” I asked.
Victor frowned. “Yes. Hound this for me, won’t you?”
I calmed my mind. Sang my little jingle so I could focus on magic and hoped I could get away with a mild headache for this one. Zay wasn’t paying attention to me. He was casting Containment spells over the broken, burned cage.
I drew magic up through my body. It poured beneath my skin with a heat that had become familiar and almost pleasant. But the hole in my chest, my missing small magic that I’d always carried, twinged like a broken bone. I still had to catch my breath when magic flowed past that hole death had carved into me, still hated it when magic poured and warmed every part of me except for that emptiness I could not fill.
The hollow hole in my chest reminded me of how much I’d paid to see that this war with the Authority ended.
I just hoped it was worth it.
The room brightened like shutters opening the day wide.
Magic was everywhere. It literally seeped out of the walls like mold spreading into oxygen. I had seen none of this, sensed none of this on the outside of the boat, and yet the place was filthy with it. So much, I didn’t know where to begin.
“Problem?” Victor asked.
“I got it. But you need to tell me what you want to know.”
“Who used magic in here?”
“For everything?”
“Freshest to oldest.”
“I take it you’ve worked with Hounds before.”
“In my day.”
“Freshest. Zay’s Containment, your Containment, your Influence, something that seems close to Impact—a crushing spell? You were trying to crush
Jingo?”
“Holding him with . . . pressure,” Victor said mildly, “so that he gave us the truth.”
Magical torture. Or one step away from it. Looked like Victor didn’t always follow the rules.
“You don’t need to go over my spells,” he said, “or Zayvion’s or any of us who entered here together. Start just before that. You can track time signatures?”
“I thought you said you’d worked with Hounds before.”
“It was a long time ago, and they were specially trained.”
“Well, I’m specially trained too. Before we arrived.” I walked one circuit of the room, not wanting to step in Jingo’s blood, not wanting to touch Zay, who would blow my focus, and not wanting, most of all, to touch that cage. As I passed the cage, the hair on my arms lifted and I shivered even though the air in here was damp and still.
Hell of a lot of spells. At least three dozen standing spells. Most in the Illusion, Mute, and Ward class. Made me wonder what Dad had used this boat for. Whatever it was, it sure wasn’t legal.
“There’s Impact. Break, Crush. All Dane’s. Another signature I don’t recognize.” I inhaled, sorting scents. “One of the men who was with him this morning, I think. I’ve never seen him cast magic, so I’m not sure. And I’ve never seen the casting records of whoever did this. Is everyone in the Authority required to register their signature with the courts?”
“Not everyone,” Victor said. “Doctors, teachers, and the like always do. People who use magic in any public manner.”
“The spells are . . . brutal,” I said for lack of a better word. I licked the sweat off my lips. I’d seen a lot of nasty things people could do with magic. Saw pain and suffering they were more than happy to pay the price for to make another person miserable. But I’d never seen anyone beat someone nearly to death with magic. A baseball bat and pair of steel-toed boots was easier and probably did less damage to the attacker. Someone had tried to boil Jingo in his own fat.
“Death magic,” I said. “And . . .” I frowned. “Dark magic.” I walked over to the cage, to the puddle of blood that dragged a messy streak, like someone had used meat hooks to pull a body into the middle of the room so they could tear it apart.
“There’s an Unlocking spell here at the cage. It’s Dane’s signature. It’s worked in dark magic. There’s another spell. . . .” I paced around behind the twisted remains of the cage. “It’s Sedra’s signature. Also dark magic—no, a blend of dark and Death magic.” I did not touch but traced the outline of the spell, trying to quantify the exact spell. “It’s an exchange.”
“Death magic?” Victor asked, his voice sounding too loud in the small space.
“No. Transfer, I think. I think she might have been trying to get away from him. Like a transfer of mass. Can people do that without a disk?” I looked away from the fading spell and over at Victor.
Correction, at Victor, Zay, and Detective Stotts, who was walking through the door.
Chapter Seven
“Detective,” I said.
Victor, who hadn’t moved and was still watching me, tapped his lip with one finger before he seemed to make up his mind. “Come in, Detective Stotts. I was hoping you’d arrive.”
“Did you contact me?” Stotts asked.
“What?” He looked over at Stotts, then back down at the bloodstain. “No. Not at all. I’m curious as to how you knew there was a crime here.”
“What happened?” Stotts ignored Victor and directed that at me.
Victor answered. “We found a person we’ve been working with—someone who had recently fallen out of contact with us—injured here. By magic, we think. Allie was just Hounding it when you walked in.”
“I heard,” he said. “So what have you found, Allie?”
Okay, this was one of those who’s who things. Stotts did not know about the Authority, and Victor had already Closed him once, just a couple days ago, as a matter of fact, when he’d caught wind of some of the things that the Authority was doing—like me bringing Zay’s soul back from death.
I had no idea what to tell Stotts. I wasn’t a champion liar, and the truth would get him a coupon for one free magical lobotomy. Victor obviously already had some kind of cover story in place about how he, Sedra, and Jingo Jingo all worked together. But he’d never told me what that cover story was.
“Tell him, Allie,” Victor said. “He needs to know the truth.”
That might be doublespeak for me to lie. Too bad.
“Jingo Jingo was attacked. As far as I can tell, it was Dane Lanister. I think one or more men were with him.”
“And that?” He pointed at what was left of the cage.
I glanced at Victor, who nodded imperceptibly. Apparently, the truth was what he’d wanted me to say.
“That is a magic-tech device my father made. It’s a cage that holds people trapped by magic.”
“Who was trapped?”
“Sedra Miller,” Victor said. “She had been kidnapped by Jingo Jingo and we believed she was being held here. We came to investigate, but someone, perhaps Dane Lanister, beat us to the punch. He broke her free. I believe Sedra is with him.”
“And none of this was reported to the police?”
Victor turned away from the mess and took a breath, holding it while he stared at Detective Stotts. I wanted to tell Paul to leave, to run. I wanted to tell him Victor or, hell, my boyfriend could rummage through his head and take away any memory he owned. That they could unmake him and remake his life.
“Listen,” I said, “I’m running up a hell of a migraine here Hounding these spells. How about we take care of business first; then we argue over who’s doing it right later. And if you don’t like that, then both of you can leave. You’re messing up my crime scene.”
I turned my back on them and went back to tracing spells. “If someone wants to write this down?”
I heard a pen click—Stotts.
“Dane Lanister, at least one other person with him, and Sedra all attacked Jingo Jingo. I don’t see a single defense spell.” I dropped Sight, drew a more intricate version that had a magnification on it, looking for ashes so far gone they were nearly invisible. Nothing. “No sign of a defense spell. He either was hit by surprise or just stood here and took it.”
“Any trail of where they went?” Victor asked.
I walked the circuit of the room, paused at the door, which they would have had to use to get off the boat, leaned out to see if there were ashes outside. “Nothing magical.” I stuck my head back in, and the stink of the main cabin hit me. I wished I’d stayed out in the breeze.
“There’s no hint of magic outside the boat at all,” I said. “Whatever spells are around this place, they are the best I’ve seen at hiding magic.”
“Perfect for holding a hostage,” Victor said.
“Why did Jingo Jingo kidnap her?” Stotts asked.
Victor didn’t hesitate. “I do not know.”
“Are you sure it was a kidnapping?” Stotts asked. “She could have come here voluntarily.”
Victor shook his head. “No. I am certain she didn’t go with him willingly.”
“Why?”
“I saw him take her.”
“When?” Stotts asked.
“During the wild-magic storm.”
“This happened weeks ago?” Stotts asked.
“Yes.”
Stotts’ eyebrows rose, but he didn’t ask more. Yet. He waved one hand toward the mess. “Go on.”
“I saw her using magic during the wild-magic storm,” Victor said.
Stotts shook his head. “If you want me to believe you, you’re going to have to be a lot more specific than that. Where was she using magic? When?”
Victor held his gaze and calmly said, “She and I were channeling the magic during the storm so it didn’t blow out the networks in the city.”
It sounded like something a crazy person would say. No one can channel wild magic and survive. But Stotts had plenty of experience working with
crazies.
“And how, exactly, do you channel wild magic?” he asked.
“With practice,” Victor said.
They stared at each other for a while; then Victor added, “And with the Beckstrom disks, which Jingo Jingo then used to stun Sedra and, I can only assume, also used to keep her here.”
“You stole the disks?” Stotts asked.
“No, but I know who Sedra sent to the lab to ask for the disks. Ask. I did not know he would break in and injure Mr. Cooper and Mrs. Beckstrom.”
“Who?”
“Dane Lanister, who works directly below Sedra Miller.”
Stotts nodded. All that, amazingly, lined up to what I’d told Stotts when I Hounded the break-in.
“I think we should go down to the station and finish this,” Stotts said. “I’ll need details of how, exactly, you suspected Jingo Jingo held her here, what Ms. Miller intended to use the disks for, and a few other facts I’m a little fuzzy on.”
“I’d be happy to tell you anything you want to know,” Victor said, “but I don’t have time to go to the station today.”
Stotts shook his head, his expression still that of a man trying to gauge the sanity of another. “Maybe you don’t understand the severity of the things you’ve admitted to me, Mr. Forsythe.”
“I do,” Victor said. “But what I am asking of you, Mr. Stotts, is your cooperation. To keep the citizens of this city safe, and to find Dane Lanister and Sedra Miller. In return, my services and information are at your disposal.”
“What if I say no and just haul you in?”
“You don’t want to do that,” Victor said.
“Really? I think I do want to do that.”
“I strongly,” Victor said, his voice taking on the ice of a man about to wield enough magic to make your ears ring, “advise you against that course of action, Detective.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Not at all.”
Zay, who had been silent, rolled his head to one side, snapping the bones in his neck. The tension in the room was so high, I was afraid Stotts might pull his gun if someone so much as sneezed.
Stotts’ phone rang. I jumped and squeaked, which got all three men staring at me.