Chapter Two
Uneasy Allies
“Never be friends, huh?” Sebastian asked in amusement, one eyebrow raised as he leaned against the kitchen doorframe, soap and scrub brush forgotten.
Lily rolled her eyes. “You have no idea how annoying you can be. Believe me, things could have easily gone the other way.”
Sir Kipling yawned, showing pink gums and sharp, white teeth. “Yes. I kept wondering why you didn’t simply curse the impertinent wretch and get on with it.”
Lily choked back a laugh, pursing her lips to stave off the grin threatening to march across her face. She was only partially successful. “Oh, I don’t know. His impertinence sort of grows on you, don’t you think?”
“Wait, my impertinence? What are you talking about? What did Kip say?” Sebastian looked back and forth between them, perturbed.
“Nothing, really. He’s just surprised your mouth hasn’t gotten you killed yet.”
“Whoa, wait a minute. My mouth?” Sebastian looked affronted. “What about you? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a professional contortionist, with how much time your foot spends in your mouth.
Lily’s eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”
“Heck yeah. Not to mention your little ‘holier-than-thou’ act. That’s going to get you killed some day.”
She scowled, attempting to cross her arms before realizing she still held several unidentifiable pieces of dirty clothing. She dropped them in disgust. “Fine. Since you think you know so much, why don’t you continue the story and we’ll see if Sir Kipling agrees with your description of me. After all, he has known me for…wait, how old are you Kip?”
“That’s hardly a polite question to ask,” he replied.
“Oh, come on,” Lily said. “You’re a cat, not a woman.”
“No, no. I meant not polite to you. Cats never ask for each other’s age. They just know.”
“And how do they know?”
“Cat magic.”
Lily sighed in exasperation, refusing to continue a long-running argument between them. He claimed cats simply had a better understanding of the world in general, and physics specifically, than humans. That’s why they could accomplish such impossible feats. Sir Kipling called this “cat magic,” ignoring Lily’s constant attempts to make him admit that the being who had gifted him with intelligence had also given him “real” magic.
“Look, never mind,” she turned back to Sebastian. “The point is, I’ll bet your version is just as skewed as you seem to think mine is. Go on, let’s hear it.” She made an impatient gesture, cleaning forgotten.
“Well,” Sebastian began, clearing his throat, “after my masterful persuasion of the office manager…”
About a year and a half ago, and one impertinent wretch later:
While Sebastian enjoyed mystery and intrigue as much as the next person, that didn’t make him any less displeased with the turn of events. This was supposed to have been a simple job, easy money. He should have known better. Fate seemed to have a grudge against him.
His one consolation was the stunningly pretty girl he’d stumbled upon. Intelligent, graceful, refined, she was the picture of feminine perfection. Even better were her reactions. He hadn’t had this much fun teasing a girl since high school. It was a shame she was a wizard. They were the most sanctimonious lot of gits he’d ever had the misfortune to encounter. Hopefully she would have the sense to stay out of the way and let him handle things. He didn’t need a bunch of flashy magic making his job harder.
“Well, Mr. Holmes, have you solved the mystery yet?” came an impatient voice behind him. He made a face she couldn’t see, then straightened, brushing off his hands as he turned to confront her scowl. They were alone in the storage room at the back of the auction house where he’d spent the last few minutes combing the area for clues.
“Colonel Mustard, with a candlestick, in the library,” he quipped, taking off and polishing an imaginary monocle as he gave her his most serious expression.
“What?” She looked utterly confused.
“You know, the…never mind,” he said, giving up. Waste of a good joke. “There’s no sign of a break-in. The back door is one of those industrial ones with no handle on the outside. You can’t get in unless you’re let in. Robert says he packed up and labeled the boxes this morning, so all the items were here as of about six hours ago.”
“He could be lying,” the attractive wizard pointed out.
Sebastian shook his head. “He wasn’t.”
“How would you know? Do you read minds?” she said, making no effort to hide her sarcasm.
He shrugged, resisting the urge to dig out the coin from his pocket and start playing with it. “Maybe I’m just good at reading people. Look, for now, let’s assume I’m right,” he said, holding up a hand to forestall her protest. “The point is, if someone didn’t break in by ‘normal’ means, that leaves two possibilities: either it was an inside job, or our thief was magical. Or both. You’re the wizard, can’t you check for—I don’t know—magic residue or something?”
“Hush!” the girl said, looking around with a startled expression. “Don’t just come out and say it like that. Someone might be listening. And how do you know I’m a wizard?” she asked, suspicion creeping into her voice. “Have you been following me?”
Sebastian grinned. “Not yet, though I’d be happy to oblige.”
She scowled, obviously not satisfied with his answer.
Chuckling, he made a dismissive gesture. “It wasn’t hard. Your lot are easy to spot. You all hold your noses so high, like you think you’re drowning in sewage or something.”
“Excuse me?” the girl spluttered, proverbial thunderclouds gathering overhead, and Sebastian decided this was the right moment to back off. No point in prolonging an already vexing situation.
“Hey, don’t take it personally,” he said. “You’re all raised to think you’re God’s gift to mankind, the superior race. It’s no wonder you don’t know how to act like normal people.”
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because his companion’s eyes flashed alarmingly and her voice grew dangerously quiet. “I’ll have you know, buster”—more chest poking—“that I didn’t know I was a wizard until I started college. I was raised on an Alabama cotton farm and have had to deal with things that a pretty boy like you couldn’t imagine. If you want to hold some juvenile grudge against wizards, be my guest. But right now we have a job to do, so shut it. Or I’ll shut it for you.”
Wow, Sebastian thought, thoroughly impressed. That was magnificent. He wasn’t about to push his luck, but there was something about her reactions that made him want to keep poking at her. Every time he did, she surprised him with something delightful and unexpected. For the moment, though…
“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in surrender. “You’re not a normal wizard. I get it. Now could you please get off my foot?”
“Oh!” She jumped back, almost knocking over a pile of boxes behind her. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t realize…” she mumbled, eyes downcast as she steadied the teetering pile. There was that blush again, Sebastian thought. Man, oh man, was it adorable.
When she didn’t look up again, or speak, he paused, puzzled at her sudden change in behavior. She acted normal enough, even plucky when challenged. But get her embarrassed or self-conscious and she shut down. He sighed.
“Look, if we’re going to work together, we should at least introduce ourselves properly.” He held out his hand. “I’m Sebastian Blackwell, witch for hire.”
She finally looked at him. Her expression had gone politely blank, though there was a hint of wary curiosity behind her eyes. “Lily Singer, head librarian at McCain Library of Agnes Scott College.”
Sebastian’s ears perked at the mention of Agnes Scott and he felt a twinge of apprehension. If she worked there, then surely she knew…no, better not to mention it. No point opening that can of worms.
“A pleasure to me
et you, Miss Singer.”
“Likewise, Mr. Blackwell.”
She gripped his hand briefly, then dropped it as if it were a hot potato. His skin tingled where they’d touched, and for some reason he couldn’t help smiling.
After a suitably awkward pause, Sebastian clapped his hands together. “Well, that was fun. Now that we’ve gotten the formalities out of the way, let’s find some stolen artifacts, shall we?”
He thought he saw the twitch of a smile on Lily’s lips, but perhaps he’d imagined it, because the next moment she looked as serious and businesslike as, well, a librarian. Which she was.
“You mentioned magic residue,” she said in a prim voice. “I can tell you that no spells were cast on anything in this room. That doesn’t mean a wizard didn’t enter and leave using a spell cast elsewhere, but it would have been self-contained. Nothing here has been touched by magic.”
“Got it. Next step is to check the security cameras, which they’re probably doing right now, so hopefully they’ll give us a peek. Then we need to question the employees.”
Lily looked uncomfortable at that, which made Sebastian chuckle.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the questioning. You just use your little wizardy-sense to let me know if there’s any hocus pocus going on, got it?”
She glared at him, that adorable look where she thought she was being intimidating, but actually looked about as ferocious as an angry kitten. “I would appreciate it if you’d treat the situation with a bit more gravity. Potentially dangerous magical artifacts have gone missing, artifacts that could cause serious damage in the wrong hands. People could get hurt, and you’re treating it like a game.”
“Life is a game, Miss Singer. The only question is whether you’re going to enjoy it or crimp everyone else’s style with that grumpy face of yours.” With that, he spun and headed for the door, ignoring her gasp of indignation. He was glad she couldn’t see the grin on his face. She might start poking him again.
A preliminary examination of the security footage revealed nothing at all, which in itself was revealing.
“Play that back,” Lily requested, leaning over Robert’s shoulder. Being the resident expert on magic, she’d taken a front seat to the spectacularly boring stream of absolutely nothing. But her sharp eye must have caught something in the sped-up replay, because when Robert went back to the section she’d indicated, they witnessed something very strange: the back door opening and closing on its own.
“Now, play it on from here at normal speed.” She bent down, squinting at the monitor. “Here,” she said, pointing. They all leaned close. Robert scratched his head, but Sebastian knew what to look for, now that the wizard had clued him in. He saw the spotty, fuzzy outline of a person, as if they’d cast some sort of invisibility spell but done a clumsy job of it. He looked up and exchanged a knowing glance with Lily.
“Huh, I don’t see anything,” Robert said, shrugging.
“Never mind,” Sebastian quickly dismissed him. “She must have been seeing things. There’s nothing on the tape, so if you don’t mind we’d like to speak with each of the employees.”
Robert gave him an odd look but rose to go round up the requested interviewees. As soon as he’d left, Sebastian looked at Lily, who nodded affirmative.
“Definitely a wizard, though one of questionable skills. What you saw there was a badly performed invisibility glamour. While no spell can grant true invisibility—at least not the way mundanes imagine it—a good glamour can achieve a similar effect. This one, however, was all splotchy and uneven.” She sniffed in disapproval, as if insulted by the very idea of a wizard plying their skills with anything less than perfection.
“Are you sure? That it was a wizard, I mean. The thief could have gotten an invisibility…I don’t know, charm or cloak or something from a wizard, right? I mean, witches make it their business to get ahold of every magical gadget they can get their hands on. Couldn’t a wizard be selling invisibility charms?” He tried to keep any undue eagerness out of his voice as he spoke. If he could find a wizard willing to sell him charmed objects, his competition would be doomed.
His eagerness dimmed, however, at the look of abject horror on Lily’s face.
“Good heavens, no!” she gasped. “Are you insane? No wizard in their right mind would even dream of letting magic fall into the hands of a witch. Think of the damage they might do. No, no. It just isn’t done.”
Eyebrow raised, he gave her a grim smile. “A witch like me you mean?”
“Well—that is—I didn’t mean to imply—” she stammered, looking flustered.
He sighed, but gave a wave of dismissal, “Forget it. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Wizards think witches are power-hungry demon-worshipers and witches think wizards are stuck-up pricks who wouldn’t give a furry crack of a rat’s behind if you keeled over dead in front of them.”
They were silent for a moment.
“So, um…are you?” Lily asked, not looking at him.
“Am I what? A furry crack of a rat’s behind?” He knew full well what she was asking, but rather enjoyed watching her squirm.
“No! No, I mean…well…you know. What you said.”
He grinned. “A power-hungry demon-worshiper?”
“Um, yes,” she said, daring a glance at him. Her eyes widened at his toothy smile.
Holding her gaze, he replied. “Do I really look that stupid?”
“Weeelll…” she began.
“Wait, no, don’t answer that.” He held up his hand, giving a rueful chuckle. “My point is, people who associate with demons are morons, no if, ands, or buts. Demons are dangerous, evil, and very, very crafty. I am many things, but brainless isn’t one of them.
She seemed to relax then, a tension leaving her that he hadn’t noticed until it was gone.
“What, did you think I got my ‘powers’ from demons?” He asked, incredulous.
“I mean…I couldn’t be sure. My mentor has warned me about witches…” she trailed off.
“As well she should,” Sebastian growled, annoyed, yet unable to deny the stigma of his kind. He opened his mouth again, intending to deliver a crash-course on witches and clear up a few misconceptions, when he heard voices approaching the door. “Look, we can finish this conversation later. Just to be clear, you think a wizard entered the storeroom, hiding from the security cameras using a cloaking spell, and swapped the contents of the boxes?”
Lily nodded.
“Good. Now we just have to figure out who let him in.”
That got him a puzzled look, but he ignored it, aiming a pleasant smile at the door as it opened to reveal Robert and a young woman dressed in the black uniform of the auction house’s assistants.
They spent about ten minutes questioning each of the employees. None of them had seen anything, or anyone, and Sebastian began to get annoyed. He knew he needed to bite the bullet and start billing his clients by the hour instead of by the job. He always managed to get shafted. The problem was he hated paperwork. Or writing things down. Or really anything that involved sitting. He was a man of action, not scribbly things.
Finally, however, as the last employee came in, Sebastian knew they’d hit pay dirt. The man avoided their eyes and spent too much time getting comfortable in his chair. Sebastian didn’t even need his “witchy” tool kit to tell the man was about to lie.
“Thank you for taking time to talk with us, Mr….”
“Peterson,” the man offered.
“Thank you, Mr. Peterson. Now, we’re looking into the possible theft of some items from the storeroom, and we need your help. Do you remember seeing anything out of the ordinary today, or anyone around who shouldn’t have been?”
The man swallowed. “No, Sir. Nothing.”
Yup, definitely lying.
“Well, Mr. Peterson, I’m afraid I don’t believe you.”
“What?” The man looked up, startled.
Sebastian gave him his most intimidating smile. “I said, yo
u’re lying.”
“I—I am not!” Mr. Peterson attempted to stand up, but Sebastian put a hand on his shoulder, his long sinewy fingers gripping several nerves and pressure points just so. The man gasped and collapsed back into the chair.
“Let’s try this again, shall we?” Sebastian said calmly, glancing over at Lily. She had a wide-eyed look on her face but hadn’t made a move to stop him. Smart girl, he thought. Refocusing on Peterson, he took an educated guess. “You let someone into the back, didn’t you?”
“No!” The man protested, though his response rang hollow.
Sebastian sighed. “Yes, you did, and you can either help us catch him, or I can report you to the police. You’ll go to jail and lose your job. Once the auction house is done warning everyone that you’re an accomplice to theft, no one will ever hire you again.” He might have been stretching the truth a bit—okay, a lot—but what the man didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
A growing expression of horror on his face, Mr. Peterson looked pleadingly back and forth between them but found not an inch of give. “Okay—okay. Look, it wasn’t my fault! I didn’t know he was going to take anything. He said he was Ashley’s boyfriend, you know, the girl who takes pictures of all the showroom stuff. He said he wanted to sneak in a surprise for her. He couldn’t go through the front where she’d see him, so he asked if I could just prop the back door open for him. I didn’t mean any harm!”
“I know, I know,” Sebastian assured him, sitting back in his chair and relaxing his threatening stance. “And if you can help us find this man, we won’t tell your boss a thing. This can be just between us. How does that sound?”
“Yes! Anything you want to know.”
“Good. What was his name?”
“Um, he didn’t say,” the man mumbled.
“Well, what did he look like?” Sebastian asked, annoyed.
“Uhh, I don’t know…young? Kinda skinny. Brown hair. I’m sorry, but that’s all I remember.”
Sebastian gritted his teeth. He knew most of the major players in town when it came to magical mischief, but “young,” “skinny,” and “brown hair” was not much to go on. That described about thirty percent of the adult male population. If he knew who he was dealing with, this would go a lot more smoothly. He was about to press the man further when he felt a light touch on his arm. Surprised, he turned to find Lily giving him a significant look. Pulling her away from the man and turning their backs to him, he lowered his voice to a whisper.
“What is it?”
“If we need a picture of the thief, I can get us one,” she whispered back. “The problem is…well, I don’t exactly want to do a spell in front of a mundane. He’ll probably just think we’re crazy and forget about it in a day or two, but I’d prefer to avoid it.”
Brow creasing, Sebastian considered the problem. “Is it flashy?” he asked. At her confused look, he elaborated. “You know, explosions and sparkling lights?”
“No! Don’t be ridiculous. He’d just hear me casting the spell, that’s all. And he might feel a little funny while I’m doing it.”
“Oh, well that’s easy.” Slipping an ornately carved silver band off his finger, he handed it to her. “Put this on.”
“What is it?” she asked, eyes alight with curiosity as she examined it closely before slipping it onto her finger.
“Oh, just a trinket I picked up somewhere,” he said, mindful of her previous declaration about wizards not giving things to witches. He could, in fact, prove her wrong, but didn’t see any point in shattering her fantasy just yet. “I call it my ring of cacophony. See that band in the middle? Turn it so the symbols all line up and…there you go.” He looked at her and grinned, seeing her mouth move and brow wrinkle in question, but not hearing a single peep from her lips.
“It’s a one-way sound barrier,” he whispered. “You can hear me but I can’t hear you. Not what you say, or the noises you make with your body, the rustle of your clothes, or even your footsteps. It’s how I snuck up on you earlier.” He winked, glad she was wearing the ring because judging by her open mouth and look of outrage, she was yelling at him.
“Turn the band again if you want me to hear you, but for goodness sake be quiet.” Sebastian glanced behind him, making sure Mr. Peterson was still sitting meekly in his chair.
“—the most uncouth, rude, exasperating man I have ever had the displeasure to meet,” she said in a furious whisper, the sound of her voice cutting in halfway through whatever tirade she had prepared for him.
Sebastian rolled his eyes, trying not to look too pleased with himself. “Look, you’ll have plenty of time to berate me later. Right now, can you just do your thing so we can get on with it?”
Giving him one last glare, she turned and sat down facing Peterson. “Mr. Peterson, I need you to give me both your hands, and then think about this man you saw as clearly as you can.
“What?” he asked, looking nervous.
“Don’t ask questions, just do as I ask. You don’t want to go to jail, do you?” Lily said, all business.
Standing behind her, Sebastian grinned. He was figuring this girl out. When she was mad, she was fearless. So all he had to do was constantly annoy her and she’d have no problems. Ah, life was good.
“A—alright,” Peterson said, taking her hands hesitantly.
“Close your eyes. Are you thinking about the man you met? Can you see his face in your mind?” Lily asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Keep doing it until I tell you to stop.”
The room went unnaturally quiet, and Sebastian looked down. Lily’s lips were moving, but no sound escaped them. Her eyes were closed as well and her breathing measured. Beyond a vein pulsing in her temple, she looked relaxed and at ease. Though he noticed a woven, beaded cord around her wrist attached to a beautifully carved blue stone, inlaid with silver runes, there was no other sign of anything “special.” No light, no swirl of colors, nothing at all to indicate magic was at that moment moving through the room, obeying the silent will of the wizard before him. The silence gave him a moment to think, and he found he didn’t like the direction his thoughts were going.
He’d originally assumed Lily Singer was like all the other wizards he’d met: cold and calculating. Proud and inflexible. But she was turning out to be much more complicated, and fascinating, than that. It was easy to tease and flirt with just a pretty face. But what happened if he actually started to like her?
Movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him, and he saw Lily let go of the man’s hand and twist the ring on her finger, giving out a long but quiet sigh as she stood up and surreptitiously stretched her muscles.
“Thank you, Mr. Peterson. You may go.”
He stood up. “So, you won’t tell my boss about this?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of things,” Lily assured him without actually promising anything. Sneaky, Sebastian thought with an inward glow of pride, then cursed to himself. She needed to hurry up and say something priggish and insulting so he could go back to mocking her.
After Peterson left the room, Lily turned to him, taking off the ring, but hesitating before giving it to him. Eyebrow raised, he held out his hand, wiggling his fingers impatiently. She pursed her lips, but finally placed it in his hand with a huff of air through her flared nostrils.
“If you sneak up on me again…” She let the threat trail off, leaving it to him to imagine what retribution would come raining down should he dare cross her again.
He hid his grin, not wanting to burst her bubble. He’d been on the receiving end of much more intimidating threats from far stronger wizards. It took quite a bit to deter him. “So noted. Now what’s our next move? Did you get an image? What did you do to that guy?”
“It’s called thought sharing—”
“Like mind reading? Cool.” He gave a soft whistle.
“No, not mind reading,” she insisted. “The human brain communicates through electrical and chemical signals, turnin
g stimuli from the different senses into images and other pieces of information, which it then stores in our memory. While I was physically touching him I could use magic as a transmitter to receive the signals he was projecting from his own brain in the form of the image he remembered.”
“So, mind reading,” Sebastian summarized.
Lily sighed, giving up. “Is there a pencil and piece of paper around here I can use?”
Sebastian dug in the computer desk and presented her with the requested implements. Curious, he watched as she positioned the pencil at an angle, rubbing the flat side of the lead across the paper, making a solid gray blur of graphite. Setting down the pencil, she then laid her hands flat on the paper, fingers stretched to encircle the grey blur. Since she was no longer wearing the ring of cacophony, he heard her soft words, spoken in a language he didn’t know. Well, he’d heard it before, having spent some time around wizards, but he’d never bothered to learn it, since it did him no good. They called it Enkinim, if he recalled correctly. It was their language of power—of magic.
Distracted by his own thoughts, he didn’t immediately notice when the grey blur started to move. But he caught on quickly enough, staring in amazement as the grains of graphite moved in a swirl, rearranging themselves on the paper to create an image so detailed and perfect that it looked like a black and white photograph. The image depicted a young man’s face, dusted with freckles and framed by tufts of stick-straight hair that poked out from under a ball cap. Though the cap hid some of his face, there was enough showing for Sebastian to know he’d never seen the young man. Well, that was delightful. More work.
“I don’t recognize him,” he said with a sigh as Lily straightened, dusting graphite off her hands and breathing deeply.
“That’s…disappointing,” she replied, frowning. “So what do we do now?”
Grinning at her, he laced his fingers together, cracking his knuckles. “Now it’s my turn to do some magic.”
Though she protested, he eventually convinced her to play along. Which was fortunate, since he wasn’t in the business of letting people see all his tricks of the trade, much less a prissy wizard.
Leaving the box of terrible novels, mug, and granola bars with him, he sent her to the store for a long list of random items that he insisted were quite essential for his next feat of witchery. Things like rubber cement, bouncy-balls, and a plunger. That would keep her occupied and out of the cold while he—