Missing Magic (12 page)

“Cenrick?” Dee crossed her arms. “What’s
wrong?”

“I heard you scream.”

“Oh, that?” She gave a self-conscious laugh.
“Mort startled me, that’s all. He popped into my kitchen as I was
measuring out the coffee.”

Mort spread his hands. “Sorry.”

Shaking his head, Cenrick sheathed his
dagger. “Looks like I won’t be needing this. Greetings, Mort. Your
arrival is timely, as always.”

“I was just asking him how he knew we needed
to talk to him.” Dee’s comment made both men smile.

“He knew because that is what he is – the
Mage.” Clapping the older man on the back, he saw Dee had poured
Mort a cup of coffee.

“Have you tasted that?”

Mort shook his head.

“Vile stuff.” Cenrick indicated the mug.
“I’ve tried it once. That was enough for me.”

Mort nodded, taking a small sip. His grimace
made Dee laugh. “You’re right. This is bad.”

“It’s an acquired taste.” To prove it, Dee
took a deep drink from her own mug. “I was telling Mort what
happened at Mick’s yesterday.”

Mort nodded, eying his coffee before taking
another, wary sip. “You say you found nothing when you entered
Mick’s house?”

“Yes. Nothing. Though we watched several Fae
arrive, they were not in the house when we searched it.”

“We took out the one guard,” Cenrick finished
for her, his tone terse. “Yet we couldn’t locate Mick or the
machine.”

“Machine?” Mort went still.

“So we believe. The one man they left behind
alluded to a machine.”

“I see. But you could not find this machine
anywhere?”

“No. Despite the way the house glowed, the
thing was gone.”

“Then they moved it?”

“Yes. Magically, I think, though I don’t know
who cast the spell, or when.”

“Spell?” Dee turned troubled eyes on him. “So
that’s what I felt. I thought it was the machine. Power shuddered
along my skin like the willies. Whoever cast it, had to be really
powerful.”

“You speak as though you felt magic.” Mort
watched her closely, his expression giving nothing away.

“I did,” Dee admitted. “Though I didn’t know
what it was. I sensed the power.”

“Magical residue,” Cenrick said, wondering
how such a thing could be. Humans
never
felt magic.

“What about you?” the Mage asked, looking at
Cenrick. “Did you feel this too?”

“No,” Cenrick admitted. “Whatever the machine
does affected me too greatly. I was weak in incoherent. If not for
Dee…”

“A human female.” Mort sounded puzzled.
“Describe what you felt.” Though his voice was deceptively casual,
Mort didn’t fool Cenrick. The older man watched Dee with an
intensity that would have frightened a lesser woman.

But not his Dee.

She lifted her chin and considered.

His Dee? Still reeling from his thought,
Cenrick nearly missed her reply.

“I felt… a black hole,” she said slowly.
“I’ve read about them, even watched a film about them somewhere.
That’s what this felt like. A powerful eraser. All matter that
comes into contact is absorbed into…”

“Itself.” Mort completed her sentence, deep
lines appearing in his forehead. “And this affected the Prince but
not you?”

“Of course. He is Fae and I’m not. That’s the
entire reason, plain and simple. I’m just an ordinary human.”

“Not ordinary. Not if you can feel
power.”

Dee shrugged.

“Then there’s the way her touch can heal me,”
Cenrick put in. “And, when she’s touching me, I’m shielded from
that machine.”

“What?” Eyes full of excitement, Mort peered
from one to the other. “What do you mean?”

In a few short sentences, Cenrick
explained.

“This is not possible,” the Mage breathed,
his gaze focused inward. “The legend—.” He drew himself up
abruptly, cutting of his own words.

“What legend?”

But Mort only shook his head. “I will have to
consult with the Oracle. If I’m correct, than we have a chance of
winning. If I’m not…” Though he didn’t finish his own words, they
all knew what he meant to say.

All would be lost.

“What about the machine?” Cenrick asked. “Can
you find it?”

“I will try. Again, as the Oracle told you,
we have limited success in the human world. And, if this
is
a machine, magic will not locate it.”

With that, he snapped his fingers and
vanished.

Dee looked at Cenrick, brows raised. “Now
what? Since you’ve made it clear my idea won’t work, what do you
propose we do?”

“Gather more data.” He drummed his fingers on
the tabletop, apparently having decided to ignore his coffee. “We
can’t diagnose the problem without knowing what factors make up the
calculation.”

She made a sound of frustration. “Again with
the math crap. You sound like a scientist, like that Natasha
chick.” Her eyes widened. “You know, I’ve never asked. In Rune,
besides being Prince, what do you do, exactly?”

“Do?”

“You know, what kind of work? What’s your
occupation?”

“I’m a scholar,” Cenrick said, crossing his
arms. “That’s all?” She sounded disappointed. “You’re one of those
eternal students?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I thought maybe you’d be a professor, or
work in a lab. Or even a doctor.”

“We don’t have any call for that sort of
thing in Rune. There are mages and scholars and warriors.”

“Warriors? Like Conan the Barbarian?” She
chuckled. “You resemble him, you know.”

Since he had no idea who this Conan was,
Cenrick didn’t comment.

“You’ve mentioned a brother.” She sipped her
coffee. “What does he do?”

“Alrick?” Thinking of his twin made him
smile. “Of the two of us, he’s more the warrior. His destiny was an
important one.”

“Really? What’d he do?”

“Short story – he married a human woman, and
lives with her in Austin.” At her disappointed sigh, he smiled.
“Their child will one day save my people.” He told her of the
warlord, and the evil which waited in the future.

When he’d finished, she chewed her lower lip,
lost in thought. “Since your brother is the warrior, does that mean
you cannot fight at all? Do you even own a sword?”

“I have trained as a warrior too, and have
fought many times at Alrick’s side.” Though her words shouldn’t
have bothered him, they stung deeply. “And I have an excellent
sword, one forged for me in the mines of Gristo.”

“I thought you Fae couldn’t touch metal.”

“My sword is not metal, she is made of
crystal.” He crossed his arms, wondering if he could make her
understand. “Though I am an accomplished warrior, I am a man of
peace. If there is a way to deal with this without bloodshed, I
will find it.”

“And if there is not?”

“Then the blood will flow like a river.”

At his words, she looked away. “I’ve taken an
oath to uphold the law.”

“What law? Human laws do not apply to this
situation.”

“Yes, they do.” She lifted her chin. “Natasha
is human.”

“Not any longer. If she’s stealing souls,
it’s possible she’s using their magic.”

“How?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted. “If I
go back to the library at Rune, I can research all this. I
can—.”

“That would take too long,” she interrupted.
“We don’t have a lot of time. We’re going to have to do the best we
can without all the research. I don’t want Mick to end up like
those other people, the Soulless ones.” She shuddered.

“What about Peter?” The words were out before
he had time to think them through. “I’m sure you must want to help
him too.”

The look she gave him was steady and without
guile. “Of course I do. I want to help each and every one of them.
But Mick is close to my heart – he’s the nearest thing to family
I’ve ever had.”

While he had always been surrounded by
family. He couldn’t imagine how lonely a life like hers must have
been. And Mick – what must that have been like, finally learning he
wasn’t alone, after years spent believing the opposite?

What reason could Mick have for hurting the
ones who cared about him? Revenge, for leaving his by himself so
long? Or was there another, deeper motivation?

Until they could get Mick alone to explain,
they’d have to wonder.

Dee drained her cup and spent a moment
staring down into its depths. “There’s got to be a way we can find
them. We just have to think of a plan.”

Pushing his chair back and getting to his
feet, Cenrick nodded. “There is one other solution.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“They seem to want me. We can flush them out,
if we use me as bait.”

Before he’d even finished, Dee started
shaking her head. “Of all the bad ideas I’ve heard in my six years
on the police force, a civilian attempting to use himself to
attract criminals is the worst. Not only that, but you’ve seen how
that thing affects you.”

“I wouldn’t go alone. We’re partners, a team.
I’m safe as long as we’re touching.”

She stared at him, the speculative look in
her eyes telling him she was considering his words.

He pressed his advantage. “Dee, I don’t have
a choice. I’m a Prince of Rune. My people are being hurt. I have to
take a risk, especially if by doing, I can save them.”

“True, and it’s a good idea. But too vague.
Say you really do act as a decoy. Then what? Where do you go from
there? You’re a planner, I know. What’s your actual plan?”

She saw from the frown creasing his forehead
that she had him worrying.

“You heard the Oracle,” he said. “
Only the
two of you, working as one, can halt this great evil.
”

“That could mean anything. I don’t think she
would want you to risk yourself, especially if you are the only one
who can save them. You can’t take a chance on being captured and
having your own soul stolen.”

“I can and I will, unless you cancome up with
a better plan.”

“I don’t have one. Not yet,” she admitted.
“But give me time.”

Her doorbell chimed as he was about to
speak.

“What now?” she groaned, going to the door
and peering through the peep-hole. “Damn. There are two men in dark
suits and sunglasses. They’re either Men in Black, come to track
down errant aliens, or they work for Internal Affairs. What the
hell do they want with me?”

“You are being investigated, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “But I’ve already answered all
their questions, at the station. Internal Affairs doesn’t make
house calls. Something is wrong with this.”

“You can always pretend not to be home.”

“Shhh,” she hissed. “I’m not hiding like I’m
in the wrong. I haven’t done anything.”

“Then open the door and get it over
with.”

Dee sighed. “You’re right.”

Cenrick moved back, preferring to stay out of
sight. Once he’d disappeared down the hallway, Dee opened the
door.

“Ms. Butler?” The taller of the two men
stepped forward, holding out a laminated I.D. “Chad Riddick,
Internal Affairs.”

Making a big show of examining his card – it
looked legit – she finally handed it back to him. “I’ve already
talked to your department, last week. At the station,” she
emphasized.

Riddick cleared his throat. “We understand
coming here is highly unorthodox, but we’re acting on a tip.”

She nearly groaned out loud. IA working the
field? Now she’d heard everything. She kept her face
expressionless. “What can I do for you?”

“We’d like to ask you a few questions. May we
come inside?”

“Sure.” She stepped aside, letting them
precede her.

Closing her front door, she took a deep
breath. Though Cenrick was nowhere in sight, it was reassuring to
know he was there in case she needed him.

Even thinking this stunned her. She’d always
worked better alone. Since when had she needed someone to watch her
back?

The two men regarded her expectantly.

“Please, sit.” Indicating the sofa with a
wave of her hand, she dipped her head. “I’ll be more than happy to
answer any questions I can.”

Prowling around her living room, Riddick
examined each knick-knack, lifting some to study more closely
before setting them back down.

His partner sat, leaning forward and staring.
“I’m Jones,” he said, when she stared back at him.

Finally, Riddick joined Jones on the couch.
Then, and only then, did he pull a notebook from his pocket and
flip it open. “Now, Ms. Bishop,” Riddick began, stopping when she
held up her hand.

“Just a moment. Before we start, I have to
tell you up front – as I did the other IA guys last week – these
charges against me are completely bogus.”

Taking a deep breath, she plunged on. “I
don’t know how or why I’m being targeted, but I’m an honest cop. A
good cop. I did nothing wrong.”

They nodded politely. No doubt they’d heard
this all before from other accusees, many times.

Clearing his throat, Riddick started again.
“The investigation against you is still ongoing. We’re not here to
discuss those allegations.”

“What?” This made no sense. Puzzled, she eyed
them. “What do you mean you’re not here to discuss my case? How do
you expect me to clear my name if you guys won’t investigate?”

Jones lifted his hand. “I can assure you we
are investigating.”

“Then what—?”

“There is the distinct possibility that more
charges are being added to your list.” For the first time Officer
Riddick appeared uncomfortable, tugging at the collar of his
uniform. “Though obviously, that depends on what kind of evidence
we unearth.”

Now he’d totally confused her. “Other
charges? Evidence? What are you talking about?”

“We’re here about another officer, Mick
Morsi.”

Her stomach somersaulted. “What about
him?”

“You were close?”

Were
?“We’re best friends.”

“Then you should know Mr. Morsi didn’t show
up for work today or yesterday, nor did he call in sick. His
supervisor says that’s not like him at all.”