Anya went down the front stairs, directly into the bar, while I took the back stairs into the small room off the kitchen that acted as the base of operations for our nightly patrols. There were four teams of four people, each consisting of a “mark” and three backups. Based on the profile of the missing mages, which was pretty much all over the place, there was one male and three female marks, including myself, dressed in various modes of attire.
We had no idea why only mages were targeted, but it was safe to assume the bad guy had some sort of aura power. It was dangerous to have mages on the backup teams, but we were so short on manpower, and Sam didn’t want to hire mercenaries.
Although the “Vanishing of Farah Purcell” was headline news in the city newspaper, the fact that the Blades were aware of a rash of disappearances had been carefully kept from the public. While hiring freelancers through the Mercenaries Guild was standard practice for the Blades when more manpower was needed, Mercs were notorious for their love of storytelling. They were not bound by the same laws of confidentiality as City Guard and Blade agents.
That meant the entire operation was a little more dangerous than an average stakeout. To be safe, each backup team had at least one vampire or shifter member and mages were paired in twos. Which is how Ian came to be on my backup team along with Rangel and Jarrett.
We didn’t want to call attention to ourselves by congregating sixteen Blades in one place, so the teams checked in with Sam in the back room at staggered intervals before heading to the section they were patrolling. Since my team was based around Pinky’s, we were the last to check in. As I reached the back hall, another team left the operations room and headed out the door. I nodded at them, wished them good luck, and then went in to find Sam, Rangel, Jarrett, and Ian already there, sitting around the small table in the center of the room.
I stood in the doorway for a few minutes, listening to Ian brief Sam on the day’s investigation. It didn’t take long. We had spent the afternoon speaking to friends and family of the other missing man, York Reeder. Despite hours spent going through his home and work, we hadn’t found out anything particularly helpful.
Magically speaking, he was pretty unremarkable. Though he was a Level Six Mage, he had no ability to work magic without a charged crystal. The leveling system for mages was quite simple and scientific. Norms used ten-fifteen percent of their brain function. The ability to use more brain function gave an individual the ability to access the energy of the universe and manipulate it in different ways. In order to even register as a mage, brain activity had to be at 25%, which was level one. From there, the scale was broken into fifteen levels, up to 100%. No one knew exactly why different powers manifested, or why they could manifest differently in each individual mage, but it was speculated that it depended upon the areas of the brain that were active and the level of activity in each.
Reeder’s powers were mental in nature. He was a Word Caller. I didn’t like that term. It was a mystical and nonsensical name given to mages who had the ability to write perfect spells. Though almost anyone could use words to focus energy and do simple magic, Word Callers created words of power to do intricate and complicated spell work with highly accurate results. Of course, the worker of the spell still needed to have the ability to work energy either naturally or with a charged crystal.
Reeder worked in a spell shop near the river. According to his boss, he was a good worker, always on time, had a high accuracy rate, and was talkative and jovial with clients. His personal life was much the same. He was friendly, outgoing, and had a lot of friends. He and his husband of twelve years lived in a small apartment in the Magic District, not far from Broadway.
The night he disappeared, York was supposed to meet his husband, Gray, and a group of friends for dinner at a tavern on Broadway, just a block away from Pinky’s. He never made it. York had been last seen at the far end of Broadway, closest to the river, by a friend he had stopped to chat with before continuing on his way.
Nothing indicated that the friend or York’s husband had anything to do with his disappearance. In fact, Gray Reeder’s grief and worry for his missing husband had been quite real. There was also no evidence that York Reeder had ever met Abel Evans, the man that had died trying to abduct Millie.
I waited until Ian had finished summing up our day before I stepped inside the room and made a show of twirling around to show off my outfit. Making a joke of it made me feel a bit less like a freak, yet I couldn’t help the smug satisfaction I felt when I saw Ian’s eyes go wide and dark with lust. It was even a little flattering to see Rangel’s mouth drop open just a bit.
Jarrett let out a wolf howl of appreciation. “Mmm, mmm, you look good enough to eat,” he drawled, coming towards me as if to grab me.
“Oh, no you don’t! You’ll muss me up. Down boy!” I said as sternly as I could through my laughter.
He skulked back to his chair, his head hung low, as if chastened, but when he raised his head, his face was split in a grin. Ian’s, on the other hand, was pinched up in a scowl. Jarrett looked over at him and winked, and I knew his lusty animal show had been put on just for Ian’s benefit. It wasn’t the first time over the past few nights that he’d playfully flirted with me in front of Ian. He had obviously picked up on the necromancer’s jealousy and found it as entertaining as I did.
“If you two are done playing, could we please get to work?” Sam’s tone was disapproving, but he couldn’t hide his grin.
“Okay, so, anything new?” I asked, taking my place at the table.
“Unfortunately not, and that is a big problem,” Sam replied.
“Every hour we go with no leads, the less likely we are to find Farah Purcell,” Jarrett said.
Sam nodded. “Yes, but it’s more than that. I spent my afternoon in a closed session with senate. They feel we have taken up too much of the city’s resources by having every available Guard searching for a girl that could very well be a runaway.”
“What? Are you kidding me? Her father is on the senate.” Rage boiled in my stomach.
“I know,” Sam replied, his voice calm and measured, as usual. “It seems he is spearheading the drive to pull the Guards off the case. He thinks his daughter has run away or is staying away to embarrass him.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but Ian beat me to it.
“From what I gathered, her very existence is an embarrassment to him,” he spat in disgust.
Sam nodded gravely. “Be that as it may, the senate has given us two days to come up with something or the entire City Guard will be pulled off the case.” He looked at Rangel. “That includes you.”
“But you don’t answer to the senate,” Jarrett said.
“No, but we are already shorthanded. Losing the use of the City Guard’s people, as well as their resources, will severely limit what we can do. Even you, Jarrett, will have to go back to your regular duties when your informant gets to town. Your case takes priority.”
“But what about all the other missing mages?” I asked, incredulous.
“That is what bought us two more nights.” Sam leaned back in his chair. “If we haven’t made some sort of progress by the end of tomorrow night’s stakeout, we lose most of our manpower. And, realistically, I’m not sure how feasible it is to keep dedicating so much of the Blade’s resources to a dead-end case either. There are other crimes going cold because we are dedicating everyone we can to finding these missing mages. I’m starting to have my doubts we will be able to, unless someone else goes missing and more evidence is left.”
“I don’t think we are going to have to wait until tomorrow night. I have a strange feeling something is going to happen tonight,” Rangel chimed in.
Everyone at the table turned to look at him.
“What makes you say that?” asked Ian.
“It’s just a feeling. I get them sometimes,” Rangel replied, almost sheepishly.
“But you’re not clairvoyant,” I said. Though our dating had been casual,
we’d been friends for quite a while. I was certain I would know if he had psychic-type powers.
“No, I don’t have visions. My only real power is teleporting, but my mother was a seer, as was both her mother and father. I seem to have inherited it a bit in the form of strong intuition. It’s what makes me good at my job. I don’t hear voices or get visions, just strong feelings that something is wrong, or I should turn left instead of right, or knowing for sure someone is guilty of a crime. Of course, a feeling can’t be used as evidence in a tribunal, but it helps me know I’m on the right track. And, it has saved my hide a time or two.”
“So, what is your feeling about tonight?” Sam asked, taking him at his word.
“It isn’t anything specific. I just feel like we are going to get a break in the case. I’ve felt like that since I woke up this afternoon.”
“Okay, you heard the man. Be extra vigilant tonight. Keep your emergency crystal handy, and backup, keep eyes on your mark at all times,” Sam said. Everyone at the table nodded, almost automatically. “I mean it,” he continued, his voice hard. “Fiona, if anything happens, you push energy through that crystal and let us know. Whoever this guy is, he’s taken down mages almost as powerful as you are. And you guys keep her in your sights.” He turned his gaze on the three men. “You know we can’t trust her not to go off on her own, and that crystal will only let us know she is in trouble, not where she is.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but shut it when I realized he was right. I couldn’t be trusted not to run smack dab into danger if I saw an opening. The fact that I knew that about myself was good, right? The first step to change was acknowledging you had a problem. Except I didn’t really see it as a problem since it usually got me results.
I opened my mouth again, this time to say something witty, and then shut it again as I saw the looks on the faces of the four men surrounding me. They were all grave faced and nodding.
“Don’t worry, Sam. We have her back,” Jarrett said.
“Yes, we do,” Ian said, a little more emphasis on the word “we” than necessary. Rangel was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, but he nodded along with the others.
“Oh, for crying out loud!” I exclaimed, disgusted. “Just because I look like some delicate princess in this get-up doesn’t make me one. I can kick every single one of your asses. Well, maybe not yours, Jarrett, you have that unfair vampire advantage, but I swear, I’ll get in some good licks before you take me down.”
Every single one of them burst out laughing. Every damned one.
“Ugh, can we get to work now?” I said over their laughter, letting annoyance drip from my voice.
“Go, go. And be careful, all of you.” Sam ushered us out the door.
Once in the back hall, we split up as had become our normal routine. Ian and Rangel had come in the back door and went back out now. They would circle down two blocks, wander in and out of a few of the bars along the way, before coming in to Pinky’s. Jarrett, who had come in the front door of the pub earlier, had a drink, and then came to the back, would go back into the main part of the bar for another drink.
Because Farah Purcell had been last seen in Pinky’s the night I had been there with first Ian, then Jarrett, we had to take into account that the kidnapper had seen me with one or both of them. For that reason, I went back upstairs and through the hall to the front stairs, which I took down into the pub, just as I normally would do. I went to the bar, ordered a drink, and sat in my usual seat at the end of the bar where it crooked around, so I could sit slightly sideways with my back to the wall and see the entire room.
Jarrett moved down and we talked for a few minutes until he finished his drink, which like mine was nothing more than colored water. Then he left the pub to stroll along the street outside and take up a watchful spot where he could see the entrance to Pinky’s as well as a good portion of the street.
After Jarrett left, I continued to drink and chat with Pinky, Anya, and other bar patrons. For all intents and purposes, except for my frou-frou clothes and watered-down drinks, I acted just as I normally would. I started dancing with some of the men in the bar, including both Ian and Rangel, who had come in and sat together at a table near the window, looking for all the world like a couple of chums out for a few drinks.
It was after my dance with Rangel, when I went back to the bar for another drink, that I started feeling eyes on the back of my neck. I turned, expecting someone to be right behind me, but no one was there. Someone was watching me; I could feel it in my bones. And it wasn’t my team. I didn’t get intuitive feelings like Rangel, but there was little inherent magic in everyone that helped sense danger, and that was what I was feeling right then.
I casually sat and leaned back in my seat, discreetly scanning the room. I didn’t see anyone or anything out of the ordinary, but I hadn’t thought I would. I glanced up at the clock. I’d been out front in Pinky’s a little more than an hour. It seemed like as good a time as any to head out onto the street and start my nightly foray through the other bars close by. I knew, instinctively, that whoever was watching me would not approach me in Pinky’s. It just wasn’t crowded enough, and I was too in my element.
I drained my drink, called over my shoulder to Pinky that I was going to go find some fun and not to wait up for me, and then went out the front doors.
Once out on the street, I stumbled a bit and leaned up against the building as if to get my bearings. The feeling of being watched intensified. My gaze swept the crowded street. There were a lot of familiar faces in the partiers that passed by. I had seen most of them over the past few nights, but no one seemed to be paying particular attention to me, so I started walking toward the Blue Vein.
I only made it a few steps before I got goose bumps across the back of my neck. Before I could help myself, I broke the number-one rule of casual surveillance; I turned quickly, making it obvious I was looking for someone. As I whipped around, I caught a glimpse of what I thought was a familiar face, but not anyone I’d seen on the streets or in the bars over the past few nights. I couldn’t be sure. I had only seen them for a moment before someone had passed between us and they were gone. But if I had seen who I thought I had, there was no doubt it was the person that was following me. I needed to get somewhere less crowded to be sure.
I turned and resumed my course, knowing someone, other than my backup team, was following me. In front of me, there was a sudden commotion and raised voices as a group of four men came out of a bar, followed by another group of three. From the looks of them, they were all vampires and by the words flying back and forth between the two groups, they were itching for a fight. I sped up my pace and got past them before the first punch was thrown.
The commotion behind me got louder, and the crowd on the sidewalk started gravitating towards the brawl, which moved to the middle of the street. I looked back to see that, in just a few seconds, the crowd around the fighters had grown to encompass the sidewalks on both sides of the street. I couldn’t see Jarrett, Ian, or Rangel. They must have been caught up in the growing crowd. Neither could I see anyone that might be following me.
I glanced around to get my bearings. I was about two blocks away from Pinky’s. To my right, there was a dark narrow path between two buildings. To give my pursuer, and hopefully my backup team, time to get through the crowd and catch up to me, I stepped into the alley entrance, careful to stay in a moderately lit area, and leaned against the building.
There was a skittering in the dark behind me, and I cringed. I hated rats, and the boots I had on were too thin for me to feel comfortable standing in a rat-infested alley. I opened my senses and pulled in a little power in anticipation of a fight, or having to fry some rats, and hoped someone came along soon.
I didn’t have to wait long. A figure moved into the alley and leaned against the building next to me, blocking the way out. His shoulder was against the building and he was facing me, the light casting a shadow across his face.
??
?It’s kind of dangerous for a lady like you to be out here alone.” The hoarse, raspy voice wasn’t familiar.
I moved back and towards the middle of the alley and, as I hoped, he shifted his stance and turned just enough to let me see his very familiar face in the full light. Perhaps if I hadn’t spent an hour looking at various artwork depicting those large eyes and full lips, I wouldn’t have recognized him. But Gray Reeder was a talented artist, magically talented, in fact. His lead and charcoal sketches were as detailed as the old photographs I’d seen in the books at the Archives. And his favorite subject was his husband. Their tiny apartment was filled with sketches and paintings of York Reeder.
“Oh, I can take care of myself,” I said, forcing my voice into a soft, sultry lilt and giving him a coy smile. I didn’t want to break cover just yet.
“I’m sure you can,” he said. “But you did look a little lonely here. Can I keep you company or were you waiting on someone?”
There was something off about his voice. The flat, raspy quality didn’t fit the thin man in front of me, and it seemed a bit disjointed from his mouth movements. As I looked closer, I realized, though I was absolutely sure this was York Reeder, he barely resembled the laughing, exuberant man in the pictures. His skin was sallow and sagging, and his eyes were dull and lifeless. Something was terribly wrong.
I glanced towards the street, but I still had no backup. Turning my attention back to Reeder, I made my voice as flirtatious as possible. “What if I told you I was waiting for you?”
“I would say it was fortuitous because you are exactly what I’ve been waiting for, for a very long time.”
Though the voice’s flat, uninflected tone hadn’t changed, something about that statement made a cold ball of dread form in my stomach. I pasted the coquettish smile in place.
“Ooh, that sounds exciting,” I said, moving across the alley to lean seductively against the far building wall, putting as much space between us as possible. I fingered the small, amethyst crystal hanging around my neck, pushing a little power through it, giving my team the signal to move in.
“It is,” said Reeder, moving slowly towards me.
He was only about a foot away from me when his hand began moving towards me. I forced myself to stay in my role as party girl, hoping the cavalry would arrive soon. As his arm swung around, light glinted off something metallic in his hand.
Instinctively my arm shot up to block him in an effort to knock the needle out of his hand, but his other arm snaked up my back and his hand was wrapped around my hair. He gave it a sharp tug, forcing my head back so hard I had to bend at the knees to keep from falling.
“Don’t worry, my love, this won’t hurt for long,” the cold, monotone voice crooned. His hand came at my neck, almost as if in slow motion.
“Maybe not, but this will.” I pulled up my right leg and slammed the sharp heel of Anya’s boot down into his instep.
Surprisingly, he didn’t squeal in pain, but it was enough to knock him slightly off balance. I took advantage of that and forced my elbow into his solar plexus. That knocked him back and the needle syringe went flying as he hit the ground several feet away.
“Oh, you like to play rough, do you?” The voice was a near growl now, sounding even more far away than before. “I can give you rough.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I crooned.
I opened my senses to pull in energy and blast him back, but I was met with a dark coldness that made my stomach lurch. I shut my senses down, instantly. It was the exact same feeling that had come over me the night I had been dancing with Ian. The night Farah had gone missing. My head swam, and the world tilted. I staggered, and then I fell to my knees, gravel scraping my bare skin. I gasped for air, struggling not to empty the contents of my stomach.
What the hell was happening here? I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus.
Reeder lunged at me, but he moved stiffly, almost as if it were an effort to control his body. I had just enough time to stagger to my feet and move to the side before he slammed into me. Instead of hitting me full force, he clipped me on the shoulder, knocking me aside as he slammed into the wall of the building behind me.
I moved in behind him and pinned him to the wall, my knee in his back. “It’s over, Reeder.”
The man began to laugh, which sounded eerie, disturbing, and sent chills up my spine.
I was about to ask him what was so funny when I heard my name being called from the direction of the street.
“In here,” I called back, but it came out a hoarse whisper, and the world spun again. I leaned into Reeder, supporting my weight on his back until the world righted again. Taking another deep breath, I shouted again, this time my voice ringing out in the empty alley. “Here.”
A moment later, a broad figure strode into the alley.
“Rangel! It’s about damn time,” I said, glancing behind him. “Where are Ian and Jarrett?”
“Still stuck in the crowd. I teleported out, but it took me a few minutes to find you. Sorry.”
“No problem. Can you help me with chuckles here?” I said, jerking Reeder’s arms behind his back so Rangel could cuff him.
We flipped him around to face us.
“York Reeder,” Rangel said, his tone authoritative. “You are bound by law under my authority as a Guard of the City-State of Nash.”
Oh, no, he didn’t just try to take over my apprehension! “And, my authority as an Agent of the Black Blade Guard under the jurisdiction of the Paranorm Council of Elders.” My tone and the look I shot him dared him to protest. Perhaps this wasn’t the time or place to get into a pissing match, but this was officially a Blades’ case and I had dominion here.
Apparently neither of our statements or our bickering had any effect on Reeder, who continued with that creepy laugh.
“What is so funny?” I asked, at the end of my patience.
He stopped laughing abruptly. “Silly girl, York Reeder isn’t here anymore. This body belongs to me now.”
A shiver of anxiety ran through me at his words. Who the hell was this guy and why couldn’t I access my magic around him? Had he been in Pinky’s that night? Or was I losing my power and it had nothing to do with him at all? I shook my head slightly and forced myself to focus.
“Oh, just who are you then?” I asked, trying to sound flippant.
“You may call me Bokor.” The monotone voice actually managed to sound superior.
“Well, then, Bokor, you are bound by law…”
The laughter started again, cutting me off.
“You silly, silly child. You think you can bind the likes of me? That your laws apply to me? You have no idea what you are dealing with.”
“Really? Then, please, do tell us,” Rangel bit out.
“Oh, you’ll find out in time,” Bokor said, ominously, his eyes focused on me. “You will know my grace and my power when I devour you.”
What the hell? Devoured me? Before I could ask him what he meant by that, York Reeder’s already vacant eyes went gray and cloudy. His body went slack, and then stiff, his skin becoming dry and brittle, and within seconds, the very much alive man was dead and his dry corpse slumped forward on to me.
I heard a shriek and realized it came from me. I looked up, saw Rangel’s horrified face, and knew it had to mirror mine. My stomach clenched and my knees buckled. I was able to register Ian running towards me and calling my name just before everything went gray, and then black.