VoodooMoon (15 page)

“Damn it, Anya, you are going to get yourself killed,” I told her, my words coming out muffled and distorted because she was rubbing some concoction of River’s on my lips to make them fuller and redder.

“Be still, unless you want to look like a hornet stung you repeatedly in the face. Don’t worry. I’m a better fighter than any of those guys. Hell, I’m a better fighter than you, and you come home from every mission with no problem.”

On one point she was completely right, she was a better fighter than me. But I had advantages she didn’t have. My skill, or rather luck, at always coming out of fights alive relied as much on my magic as it did my fighting abilities. More, sometimes. I also usually had a partner, or Mal, watching my back. Even so, there had be a few times that I’d barely made it out alive. If Anya had ever seen me right after some of those fights, she’d be on Pinky’s side when he gets on his kicks to try to get me to quit the Blades. But she never had, and if I could help it, never would see me that hurt.

Mages usually heal a little faster than norms, but the nature of my power, the fact that I can pull energy into my body before dispelling it, seems to make me heal much faster than any mage I know, except those with self-healing powers. I can’t heal vampire fast, but if I’m conscious enough to pull in a little energy, it can take just a matter of hours to get rid of cuts and bruises and a couple of days to mend broken bones.

Anya had no such advantages, but reminding her of that fact would do nothing but piss her off. Being a norm was a sore spot with my sister. As a child she’d been beaten and neglected because she had no magic. As an adult, being a norm kept her from the one thing she wanted most. Norms couldn’t be a Blade. She could work for the Blades or the City Guard as an analyst or in the typing pool, or some other menial desk job that would drive her crazy. No matter how good a fighter she was, and she was likely the best in Nash, she could never do field work.

As if reading my mind, she said, “Don’t feel sorry for me. And don’t worry about me either. I carry packets of River’s potions with me.”

“There are injuries her potions and brews can’t protect you from, or heal. If you don’t think about yourself, think about how River will feel if something happens to you that is beyond her power.”

Anya leaned back and inspected her handy work on my face. “Okay, you’re done. And, if something does happen to me, it won’t be River’s fault.”

“Yeah, but you won’t be around to tell her that, now will you?” It was playing dirty, I knew, but I had no doubt that if the argument had been reversed, Anya would have played the River card herself, and it would have worked as well as it did now. We may both be a little reckless with our own lives, but we would do anything to protect River, even from ourselves.

“Okay, okay. I get it. I’ll stop fighting,” she said as I helped her put away the tubs of makeup goo.

I laughed. “That’s a lie.”

She grinned. “Okay, I’ll pick the little ones and stay away from Juicers.”

“Good enough. Now come on, you’ve dolled me up enough and we both have jobs to get too.”

Anya went down the front stairs, directly into the bar, while I took the back stairs down 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, 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 and 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 stake-out. 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 backroom 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 back door. I nodded at them and wished them good luck, 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 6 Mage, he had no ability to work magic without a charged crystal. The leveling system for mages is quite simple and scientific. Norms use 10-15 percent of their brain function. The ability to use more brain function gives 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 has to be at 25%, which is level 1. From there, the scale is broken into 15 levels, up to 100%. No one knows exactly why different powers manifest, or why they can manifest differently in each individual mage, but it is speculated that it depends upon the areas of the brain that are active and the level of activity in each area.

Reeder’s powers were mental in nature. He was a Word Caller. I don’t like that term, it is a pretty mystical and nonsensical name given to mages who have the ability to write perfect spells. Though almost anyone could use words to focus energy and do simple magic, Word Callers create words of power to do intricate and complicated spell work with highly accurate results. Of course the worker of the spell still had 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 and 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 had been 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 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 ran away or is just 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 of 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. 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. The 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 a bit 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 then 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 is little inherent magic in everyone that helps sense danger, and that was what I was feeling right then.

I casually sat and leaned back in my seat, discretely 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, and called over my shoulder to Pinky that I was going to go find some fun and not to wait up for me, 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 on the street. 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.