A Little Street Magic (8 page)

“Will that work?” Damian asked, and I nodded.

“It should.”

There was more arguing, including calls to Stannett and the coroner, before an agreement was reached. I could try one of the smaller splotches of “stuff”—or “people goop” as someone else called it—but not a partial finger or whatever. And I had to wait until a sample was taken of the splotch they decided on.

The chosen spot of people goop reeked, and I didn’t look too closely to see what it was made of. Didn’t need to know that, just needed to stick my hand in it and hope we got something worth all the fuss. “Ready?”

Damian was crouched next to me, and he nodded as he steadied his phone. “Go ahead.”

“Okay.” I had to close my eyes before my hand made contact. The stuff felt cool in temperature. It also felt sticky, and had the texture I imagined fireplaces ashes would, if mixed with enough water. “Nothing yet.”

“What’s going on?”

I groaned internally. Dodson had joined us.

“I’m sorry, does she have her hand in...” Several people shushed him before he finished, and I silently thanked them. No verbal confirmation about having my hand in liquefied people needed, especially when I realized the goop felt warmer than it first had.

“I think...”

“Holy shit,” someone said, and I opened my eyes as Damian grabbed my wrist.

“What?” It felt like something was beginning to trickle down from my hair.

“Get something to wipe her hand off now!” He yanked my hand upward.

A swooping sensation was followed by a rush of heat flaring upward from my feet, and I blinked as the trickling sensation reached my eyes. “I don’t know...”

I didn’t finish, because of intense, burning pain. A haze of red descended as I began to flail, trying to get away from Damian’s grip. Someone grabbed me around the waist from behind as I half-stood, and there was screaming, yelling, and everything was red and gold and black.

Blinded, I was aware of being carried, and then coldness enveloped my gloveless hand. My mouth was open, my throat felt raw. I was the one screaming, could taste smoke and blood. For once, I didn’t pass out, and I really, truly regretted that since I was being roasted alive.

Two hands touched my face, and the vision ended, leaving me sucking in air and blinking. There was blood in my eyelashes, and whoever had grabbed me still had hold, my feet not touching the ground. Logan and Dane were in front of me. Both were touching my cheeks, and anxiously checking my eyes.

My hair looked wet, and my clothing felt soggy. I was up just high enough to be looking slightly down at the guys. Damian was frantically dabbing at my hand, and I noticed that my skin was pink and blistered. It didn’t hurt, but my voice was hoarse. “I’m okay.”

The chest my back was against rumbled, and Dodson said, “Jesus Christ, woman.”

“Sorry. You can put me down now.”

He did, slowly, and took a step back. Dane lowered his hand to my arm, offering support if I needed it. Logan kept his hand on my cheek, and I managed to give him a small, quick smile. Quick, because it occurred to me that I was actually covered in blood. “Oh. That’s blood. My blood?”

“Don’t know.”

“You’re all burned,” Damian said. “You’re actually burned.”

“It doesn’t hurt.” I felt a little woozy, but otherwise, remarkably okay for nearly being burned alive. Or a close, psychic approximation of it. “I can’t ride in your car like this.”

Disbelief flashed across Logan’s face before he laughed. “Don’t worry about my car. Are you okay?”

“I think so.” Gently pulling my hand out of Damian’s grasp, I flexed it and took a closer look. Yep, there were small, clear blisters all over my newly pinkened skin. I pulled my coat sleeve up, and the blisters continued up my arm. “Is my face blistered too?”

“Yes. I am so sorry, Cordi.” Damian was quivering with guilt, the corners of his lips downturned.

“I’m okay, really. Nothing hurts. Well, my throat, but other than that...”

“What in the hell just happened?”

I turned around to look at Dodson, Logan and Dane moving to be ready in case I passed out or something. At least, I thought that’s what they were doing. The big detective looked a little pale, and the front of his clothing was smeared with blood. His eyes looked slightly wild too.

Though such visions weren’t all that regular, and I’d definitely never had one of being burned alive before, I couldn’t resist assuming a nonchalant tone. “Sometimes, psychic stuff goes all out. That’s what happened. I got a minute of reliving what those poor men went through.”

Dodson stared at me, and I wished I could see myself. It had to be sight that wouldn’t soon be forgotten. I probably looked like Carrie after the pig blood had been spilled on her. Behind him, the others were gathered around the door, also staring at me.

I shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t know in advance what’s going to happen. Even sorrier, because it didn’t give us anything useful.”

Dodson opened his mouth, closed it and looked down at his shirt. He looked at me, grunted, and turned around. “Show’s over. Back to work.”

S
trangely entranced, I stared in the mirror. Where in the hell had all the blood come from? Even my pea coat was soaked in it. The only item of clothing it hadn’t soaked through were my boots, but from the feel of it, my socks hadn’t escaped the deluge.

“You okay in there?” Logan asked from the doorway of the restroom. He was keeping the door from closing, to keep an ear on things. I didn’t think I was in danger of passing out, as the woozy feeling had passed.

“Yeah.” I finally turned the water on, happy the museum hadn’t upgraded to the water-saving, auto sensor type faucets. After peeling off my remaining glove, the interior of which was bloody, I began washing both hands. The pinkness was fading from my skin. I hoped the blistering disappeared as fast.

“Kind of thinking touching the dead is not a great idea for you.”

“Can’t really argue with that.” But I’d probably do it again, somewhere down the line. “What did it look like to you?”

“An explanation of why there’s been fresh and cooked blood. It was seeping down, out from your hair at first. After Dodson picked you up, it looked like it was coming from every pore. The blisters appeared just a second after that.”

“What can cause that?”

“I don’t even have an idea,” he said. “I see Dane coming back.”

He’d gone out to the car to grab Logan’s bag from the trunk. Shifters, at least those of my clan, tended to keep extra clothing on hand for emergencies. I was in luck, because this time, Logan’s extras were sweats. They’d be too big, but at least they’d be dry.

“I’m going to need a trash bag for my clothes.” I hoped the blood would wash out of everything, and congratulated myself on not succumbing to the “Women in Leather” stereotype. I could only imagine how difficult peeling off blood-soaked leather pants would be.

“We’ll find one.”

“Hey, and maybe one of those dust cloths to dry off with?” I’d need more than paper towels for my hair in particular, assuming I could figure out how to rinse it in the shallow sink.

“Sure.” Logan followed that with, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Dane said. “Does she need anything else?”

Logan gave him my requests, and our partner went off in search of both items. I went to the door to take the bag, holding out my other hand for his inspection. “I think it’s fading.”

He looked at my hand and my face before nodding. “It is, but maybe we should call Alleryn and have him look you over.”

I hesitated, but then I could quiz the healer about his Prince’s sudden political aspirations. Of course, I had an idea about them, but confirmation would be nice. Plus, getting a checkup would put a stop to the worried vibes zinging off Logan, Dane, and Damian. Those vibes were getting annoying, like little electrical shocks. “Okay. I guess ask him if he’ll meet us at my place.”

“Will do.”

Dane returned with a big, black trash bag and a clean, folded dust cloth. “Here you go, Bloody Mary.”

“Hah. You’re funny. Thanks.” I was careful to keep both clear of my clothing. “Okay, time to shut the door and make certain no one busts in on me.”

“They’ll have to go through us first,” Dane promised with a grin. “I bet Dodson thinks you’re a badass now, after how quickly you went from screaming to cool as a cucumber.”

I had to smirk a little, feeling smug I’d recovered so quickly. “Be out in a bit.”

Door shut, I went back to the sink area, put the bags and dust cloth down, and began undressing. Each item went into the trash bag immediately, though I stuffed my bra and panties underneath my jeans and shirt.

Naked, I backed up to take another look in the mirror at the blood smeared all over me. For just a minute, fear took hold. What if the vision hadn’t been a psychometry effect, but a precognition?

I shook my head at my mirror self.
Don’t go borrowing trouble, Cordi
.

N
early an hour later, I stepped out of the restroom with the duffle and half-full trash bag. Dane immediately offered to take both, and I let him. Not knowing if it was my blood or not, I’d put both used paper towels and the dust cloth in the trash bag. My boots were in the bag too, leaving me to walk around in my borrowed socks. I’d skipped donning Logan’s boxers, surprised to find a pair included since the one time I’d helped him undress, he hadn’t been wearing any. Well, none had been in his jeans when I pulled them off him.

“Now what?”

“Damian wants us to look at the security tape,” Logan replied.

I made a “don’t really want to” face. “Experiencing a little of it was kind of enough for me.”

“Then we’ll tell him that, and take you home.”

We set off for the security office, and found both detectives and a uniformed officer there. The maroon smears decorating Dodson’s clothing apparently bothered him, because he was brushing at one on his shirt when we walked in.

“Hey.”

Damian spun around, scanning my face. His brightened. “You don’t look as burned.”

“It’s fading, but Logan called Alleryn and I’m going to get checked over. Pretty sure I’m fine though,” I added when another dart of worry zoomed from him. I hated asking in front of Dodson, but did anyway. “You don’t want me to watch their deaths, do you?”

“Of course not. But I do want you to watch just before, and what happened after. If you feel up to it?”

That I could do. “Sure.”

“Okay, have a seat.” He nodded at the uniformed cop, who began tapping away. A second later, I was seated and watching the screen. A lump rose in my throat when I recognized one of the security guards as they walked into the room with alert expressions. It was Ernie, the sixty-something man who’d shown us the video of the magic mirror’s theft.

They split up after entering, each covering a side of the room, and halted at the back of the coach to converse. There were head shaking and shrugs. Whatever they’d heard or seen, no one else was in the room with them.

All of a sudden, both men went rigid, their stiff bodies floating upward until they were three or four feet off the ground. “Pause that.”

The cop did, and I studied the image closely. Nothing indicated an invisible being had grabbed and lifted them. “Telekinesis.”

“Jump ahead,” Damian ordered. It took a second for the cop to find the right point, and we watched as the glass tops of the display cases exploded. Once the glass settled, a pair of dark brown, leather boots went floating out of sight, followed by the stick from the other case.

“Telekinesis again, and the cause of death has to be pyro-kinesis. I don’t know how the killer does the blood thing.” I sat back, sickened by the idea of someone using psychic abilities to murder innocent humans. “With telekinesis, there’s no need for him to kill anybody. Why is he?”

“He wants blood.” Dodson brushed at his shirt again, his eyes on the screen. “We’re probably looking at a vampire.”

“The vamp council has rules about killing humans.” Look at me, defending the very beings I’d once been happy to turn to ash for any reason. My, how things had changed. “If the killer’s a vamp, he or she has gone rogue.”

“Could this be political then?” Damian’s brow was furrowed when I turned the chair to look. “Maybe a vamp trying to prove he or she is beyond the council’s control?”