Wild Magic (8 page)
Authors: Ann Macela
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Suspense
“I agree with your points, but I don’t think there was a human looking through that black flame at us. I’ve been in a similar position, and there’s a different feeling entirely,” John said.
“If Finster and another person have been casting over years, especially close by, they must be in an extremely secure environment, or I’d have picked it up,” Glynnis said.
“Looks like we have some investigating to do. Glynnis, you put some scholars to researching the Cataclysm Stone. If we’re going after a larger piece, we need to know what we’re doing,” Fergus concluded. “First, we must get rid of the ashes from our most recent project. John, do you have the vials?”
“Yes,” John replied. “I divided the remains into portions so all who participated in the destruction could have one. They’re in the box by the door. Be sure to take one when you leave.”
“As usual,” Fergus said, “please scatter them in many places. The last thing we need is the abomination or even a part of it reconstituting itself. We’ll meet this evening at seven to discuss the situation and make plans to find the remains of this abomination. Okay, anything else before we adjourn?”
Irenee tugged on Fergus’s sleeve, and he bent down to her. “Could you ask our team to stay for a minute? I forgot something I’d rather discuss with them alone. Oh, and Dad can stay, too.”
Irenee fidgeted until her team members were the only ones in the room. During the previous discussion, she’d thought about telling everybody, but the task was somehow too much to take on, exhausted as she was.
“Here’s the thing,” she said when all were settled again. “When I was about to open the safe in Alton’s study, a man picked the lock and came in. He could see right through my invisibility, and he asked why both the safe and I were glowing. I don’t know, however, if the safe radiance was from my discover spell or Alton’s protective ones.”
She related the events without mentioning her more personal reaction to him. What possible importance could it have to the larger problem? “Uncle Dylan said he’d find out who the man was after I left.”
“This guy specifically mentioned seeing a glow from the spells?” her father put in.
“Yes, but he didn’t say a word about magic.”
“What about evil? Was there any taint?” Glynnis asked.
“None I could identify. He certainly didn’t want Alton to know he’d been there, so I’m guessing he’s connected with law enforcement.”
“It would stand to reason,” John said. “We’ve been assuming one agency or another must be after Alton after all he’s done.”
“He didn’t threaten me with either arrest or harm, even though he was angry,” Irenee continued. “I think we were under the same time constraints because he didn’t argue when I suggested he leave first. He simply left. I finished up and heard the guard try the door right on schedule. It was still locked, so he didn’t come in. If Mr. Mysterious thought to waylay me in the hall, the guard must have chased him away because there was nobody there when I came out to go to the auction.”
“Very puzzling.” Fergus stroked his beard. “You’re sure he’s not a practitioner.”
“I don’t think so. He used an electronic gadget to open the wall safe, and he didn’t know how to handle the spells in the one in the floor. He was actually going to touch it before I stopped him. No practitioner expecting magic protection would have done so, whether or not they could see a spell glow.”
Fergus leaned back in his chair. “He didn’t take anything—not from either safe. He only copied some drives and put them back. Interesting. Is there anything else you haven’t told us?”
Oh, damn. Might as well make light of it. She smiled and said, “He was good-looking and wasn’t happy when I pointed him out to Uncle Dylan. Is that what you mean?”
“How good-looking?” Annette asked.
“Very, in an 1-can-take-care-of-myself way.”
“I’m really puzzled by his ability to see a spell glow,” Fergus said. “Did you get the idea he could also see your spell aura?”
“I don’t think so. From what he said, I didn’t glow after I cancelled invisibility, and he didn’t mention my shining when I dispelled and unlocked the safe.”
“Interesting. The talent to see a spell aura around the casting person’s body is common among family members. The talent to see the aura of a nonrelated person is much rarer. To see spells glowing without casting a spell to do so is extremely rare. Only a couple of people on this continent can do it, and I know both. Neither of them is this fellow. He seems to be able to see spells, not auras, yet he doesn’t know what they are.”
“Seeing either takes more than a simple sensitivity to magic,” Irenee’s father said.
“Yes,” Fergus agreed. “It’s even more curious that he actually saw
through
Irenee’s invisibility spell. I would have expected him to see the shell of bending light, not her inside it. We’ll have to find out how he did it He stroked his beard again and stared into space. “I wonder...”
through
Irenee’s invisibility spell. I would have expected him to see the shell of bending light, not her inside it. We’ll have to find out how he did it He stroked his beard again and stared into space. “I wonder...”
“You have a look in your eye like you’re about to pull a rabbit out of a hat.” Glynnis shook her finger at him. “Come on, give. What do you think he is?”
“I’m not going to speculate until after I’ve met the man. I will go so far to state unequivocally that he’ll be showing up soon. We’ll find out who he is, and he’ll find out who Irenee is, and he’ll come looking for her.” Fergus sat back in his chair with a satisfied look on his face.
“Oh, no, I didn’t think of that,” Irenee moaned. “What am I supposed to do with him when he finds me?”
“Bring him to me. I’ll take care of him,” Fergus said.
“And me,” her father added with a frown. “I’d like to meet a man who’s impervious to your spells.”
Irenee refrained from rolling her eyes at her father’s statement. There he was, being overly protective again. Her whole family—mother, father, brother—had always protected her to the point she wanted to scream—she assumed because her level was so much below theirs. The problem was, it didn’t stop when she shot up in level and abilities. Indeed, her parents’ reaction to her becoming a Sword had been close to dismay. Oh, they were proud, too, but she could tell they didn’t like the idea of her being a frontline fighter.
However, she was a Sword, no matter what, and she knew her father, as a Defender himself, understood how well she’d done with her first big assignment. Her next one was to turn her attention to Mr. Mysterious and lure him into Fergus’s clutches. How hard could it be?
“Everybody get some rest,” Fergus commanded. “It’s late, or rather early in the morning. Remember, we’ll meet at seven to see what information has come in.” He shooed them out the door.
Irenee gave her father a hug, picked up her vial of ashes, and headed for her condo, where she concentrated solely on getting ready for bed. She had no choice. It was concentrate or fall over from sheer exhaustion.
Once lying there, however, the encounter with Mr. Mysterious played out again on the backs of her eyelids. Her magic center fluttered, and she smiled while she rubbed it. She was looking forward to seeing him again, she decided—purely for answers to the puzzle of his abilities, of course.
CHAPTER SIX
Early Sunday afternoon, Jim went into the task force office, located in a nondescript building close to the Loop. After getting a cup of coffee, he stopped by Dave Richards’s desk to see what progress they had made on the flash drives.
“We’re going to nail this guy,” Dave reported gleefully. “The schmutz didn’t encrypt the files at all. He used a simple password we cracked in seconds—
cataclysm,
can you believe. The forensic accountants are going over the financials, and I’ve sent you the file of his ‘business associates.’ Finster had those all set up like a Christmas card list. Incredible. Now if he just doesn’t die on us.”
cataclysm,
can you believe. The forensic accountants are going over the financials, and I’ve sent you the file of his ‘business associates.’ Finster had those all set up like a Christmas card list. Incredible. Now if he just doesn’t die on us.”
Jim almost choked on his coffee. “What? Die?” “Yeah, haven’t you heard? Finster’s in the hospital. He collapsed about three in the morning and seems to be in a coma.”
“Son of a bitch!” Jim dropped into a chair and slammed his fist on the desk. “The bastard cannot die. He deserves to be alive and suffering, not dead to the world. Hell, I’ll haul his ass into court if it has to be on a gurney”
“Believe me, a lot of us will help push.”
“What about our investigation?”
“Erlanger’s called a meeting for seven tonight. From the rumors, we continue as planned.”
“Good.” Jim stood. “I have some people to look up. Let me know if you hear news about Finster.”
“Will do.”
A couple of hours later, Jim had more data—and wished it was more helpful.
The bad news: A still unconscious Finster had been moved from the hospital to a private clinic where it would be extremely difficult for the task force to monitor him. An agent was looking for a way in, but the staff turnover was practically nonexistent, and the clientele exceedingly private. The only reports said that the butler and Finster’s cousin, Bruce Ubell, had found him unconscious on the floor of the study.
Finster’s cousin. What was it about the guy that bothered him? Jim remembered the odd feeling he’d had at the gala when the two were together. Which one was really the boss? They’d have to see how Finster’s collapse changed the criminal activities.
The good news: Jim had better info on Irenee Sabel. Date of birth, Social Security number, education, occupation, family, net worth—she certainly didn’t need to work for a living. Address—the HeatherRidge Center? In Barrington? Where the hell was that? Out in the northwest suburbs?
He looked her up every way he could, and found few references except to charitable causes and various kinds of corporate special events. Some she organized and some she only attended. No pictures or reports of her at clubs or parties. No connection at all with any men. She certainly wasn’t playing the celebrity circuit—or circus—like some women her age.
The only color close-up he could find was her driver’s license photo. Eyes brown, hair red, fair skin. It didn’t do justice to her.
Her small business, Sabel Events, had organized parties and conferences for some big names and companies, but it, like its owner, kept a low profile. Her office address was in the Sabel Industries headquarters building in Schaumburg. According to the building diagrams, instead of a location in the upper-floor, plush executive suites, her small three-room office was in the lower-rent middle.
To all appearances, she was a young woman living quietly, concentrating on her job.
Somehow, the description did not match her dark red hair or the way she took control last night. It certainly didn’t go with a woman who’d sneak into a locked room and burgle a safe without turning one of those red hairs.
Oh, yes, he wanted to see her again—for all kinds of reasons. The only questions were when and where.
He rubbed the itch in his chest and got to work on Finster’s list of business associates.
Monday morning at ten o’clock Irenee hurried into the Sabel Industries building not far from Woodfield Mall. On the way she’d visited several forest preserves to scatter her portion of ashes, and she was running late. Fortunately she had no pressing events upcoming, and she’d planned on devoting the day to paperwork and some phone calls to prospective clients. She juggled her purse, briefcase, and a box full of promotional items to push the elevator button.
As the elevator took her to the third floor, she went over her mental to-do list. The way her business was expanding, she really needed a full-time administrative assistant. Someone who could keep the books and back her up with all the details. She’d hired a couple of women from her mother’s office for past individual projects outside of normal business hours, but such sporadic part-timers weren’t reliable in the long run.
Her planning efforts were complicated because, although she was a full Defender team member after four long years of study, she was still in the dark about how much time her Sword activities would actually take. In general, the teams saw real action only once or twice a year. Practitioners were like everybody else, a mix of normal, honest people and a few bad ones. Only a very small number of the criminal types had sufficient power and talent to create even tiny evil items. The ancient, powerful monsters only showed up every fifty or a hundred years.
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