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Authors: June Stevens

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BOOK: VoodooMoon
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ELEVEN

 

IAN

 

Ian closed the book with a dull thud and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. Nothing. It had been three days and he still had no explanation for the dried and withered spiritless corpse in the morgue. Although the case had officially reverted back to the jurisdiction of the City Guard and they had not asked for his help, Ian had not been able to let it go, neither had Sam Harrison. Ian had scryed Sam with the details of Millie Linton’s interview the moment he’d arrived back at his office. He knew Fiona suspected a necromancer had done this foul deed, as did Sam, and at first so had Ian himself.

He had never seen or heard of anything like it. He’d promised Sam he would do some research and see if he could find out what could have caused the spirit to have left the body so completely. He’d immediately scryed the caretaker of the family compound in the mountains and had him round up every text on necromancy in the library. It had taken the man almost an entire day to round up the nearly one hundred texts and another day and a half for the wagon driver he hired to bring them into the city.

Four hundred years ago the Barroes family had been little more than a traveling band of con-artists living. Back then the paranorm society had been a secret hiding in plain sight. They lived in the norm world, living by the rules of norm society as well as by the rules of the Paranorm Council. The Barroes family was an old paranorm family with a history of producing children with necromantic powers. Back then most necromancers lived on the edge of both the paranorm and norm legal systems and the Barroes clan had been no different. As a matter of fact, they had celebrated it. Children with necromantic powers were taught from an early age how to use the information they could glean from the dead to con and bilk unsuspecting people, norms and paranorms alike.

They had lived on the road, traveling from city to town executing con jobs and moving on when norm or paranorm authorities started catching on. Until, that was, sometime in the mid-1800’s when a Barroes girl, Ian’s several times Great Aunt Matilda, had been born with the power of foresight. It wasn’t an uncommon power in the Barroes clan, especially among the girls, but Matilda had been different. Her powers had been extremely strong and accurate. For years the family used her visions to make more and more money. Then, when she was in her thirties she began to have more terrifying visions. She saw death and destruction hundreds of years into the future. The end of civilization.

The girl’s father, having witnessed other of her visions come to fruition took what she saw very seriously. The family found a place deep in the mountains of Tennessee. For the next two hundred years, using Matilda’s detailed journals, the following generations had built up their wealth and turned the mountain home into a compound, a fortress really. The underground bunkers held food and supplies. They had horded everyday items that had cost pennies back then, but after the cataclysm could be traded and sold for a hundred times their original worth. They had become rich off of the combination of Matilda’s visions and their necromantic powers and had emerged from the Cataclysm almost unscathed and even richer than they had been before.

The library had been one of the things they had horded. In order to make sure the Barroes family, for they’d had no interest in sharing their wealth and knowledge with the rest of society, was well educated in the dark and ignorant times after the Cataclysm they had amassed an impressive library full of books on history, science and math. They’d also made it a point to get a copy of every book on magic, especially necromancy, they could. Not the silly books put out by norms that had no idea of the real existence of paranorms or magic, but the secret, underground texts.

There were hundreds in the family library. Ian had spent as much time as possible in the library bunker when he’d been a child. He’d loved learning. When he had left the family compound for good to live in Nash his father had forbidden him to bring any. In the years since his father’s death he’d brought many of the books to his home in Nash and had even donated some to the city archival library for the use of Academy students. He used some of the historical texts on necromancy in his classes, but had left most of them at the compound. Now they were all here and he’d spent all day yesterday and all of this morning going through them.

He glanced at the ticking clock on the wall as he sipped the cup of tea Mrs. Gary had brought in with a plate of bread and cheese and a steaming bowl of vegetable soup a few minutes before. It was mid-day. He’d been reading through books since dawn. He’d read and reread dozens of tomes on the history and scientific theory of necromancy and was no closer to knowing what had separated that man’s spirit from his body than he had been three days ago. The only thing he knew for sure was this was in no way related to necromancy. There was absolutely some type of magic involved, and someone very powerful. But it wasn’t necromancy so it wasn’t his business.

He looked at the pile of books again. Since he had them here now, he’d lend them to the city archives so they could be copied and added to the library. But that could wait. First he’d eat his lunch and maybe find Fiona. He hadn’t seen her since the night they’d danced at Pinky’s. His body tensed and began to harden at the memory of her in his arms and that kiss…could he call it a kiss? It had been more like a mutual devouring.

He had always known if he ever had her in his arms the connection would be powerful, but the reality of it had been far beyond his dreams. He hadn’t meant to kiss her. Hadn’t even meant to dance with her.

He’d spent the entire evening going through magical history books from the City Archives and had, of course, come up with nothing. He’d been wide awake, restless and thinking about Fiona. Since seeing her that morning he had barely been able to concentrate on anything else. It was like that every time he worked with her. For days afterwards all he could think about was what it would be like to touch her sun-kissed skin, taste her full pink lips. He imagined her dark hair spread across his pillow. It was beginning to get out of hand. That night he’d been fed up. Enough was enough. It was time for him to take matters into his own hands. Time to man up and start on the road to making those imaginings a reality.

Before he could think better of it he’d found himself in Pinky’s ordering a drink and asking Pinky about Fiona. He hadn’t intended to do more than have a drink and say hi. He wanted her to see him outside of the work environment, start seeing him as a man instead of just a necromancer. He’d also figured that showing up on her home turf would shake her up a little. She was so steady, so unflappable, he needed to catch her off her guard and he figured invading her home territory would be just the way to do it.

But then she’d been there next to him and she’d been so beautiful and so pissed off. He hadn’t been able to resist pushing her a bit. Nothing risked, nothing gained. So he’d asked her to dance. He hadn’t been sure he’d be able to get her to agree, but she had, finally. It was just supposed to be a dance. Just one dance to get her shook up just a little. Just one dance to show her his intentions—that he would be back for more. But it had been so much more than he had been expecting. The moment their skin touched the world had ceased to exist for him. A conflagration had erupted inside him that threatened to burn them both to cinders. He knew, from the look in her eyes she had felt it too.

She’d been so incredibly beautiful, so intensely warm in his arms he had not been able to resist the pull to taste her. And when he had, he’d been lost, completely and utterly lost. If she hadn’t stumbled, he would have had her even if he’d had to find a dark corner to do the deed, and from the intensity in her kiss and the gyrations of her body against his he’d known she wouldn’t have objected.

But then she’d stumbled and gone pale. It had scared the life out of him, but she’d sworn she was okay. He didn’t believe for a moment she’d just been tired. Something strange had happened to her, he knew it. He’d felt her using her magic, felt the pull of energy towards her, then it had abruptly stopped. He’d let it go because she seemed to recover quickly and he hadn’t wanted to push too hard. He would have eased back into the subject, but then that damned good looking vampire had shown up.

As he’d watched her wrap her curvy body around the huge man a white hot fury of jealousy he hadn’t thought himself capable of flooded his senses. He’d always thought himself an intelligent, civilized man who used his brain first and his brawn second. But for a moment, a long moment there had been nothing he’d wanted to do more than punch Jarrett Campbell in the throat.

Bzzzz. A soft buzzing and pulsing blue light pulled him out of his thoughts. Someone was scrying him. He turned to the large flat crystal attached to the wall next to his desk and touched it to activate it. Instantly the blue light faded and Sam Harrison’s face appeared in the crystal.

“Hello, Sam.” He said jovially. He liked Sam. Most Blades were punch-first-think-later types. Sam wasn’t. He was well educated and articulate. He was one of the few people Ian liked talking to.

“Ian,” Sam’s tone was a bit brusque. “Sorry to be abrupt, but I need to know if you found out anything about that body in those books of yours. And don’t tell me you hadn’t looked because I know better. Jurisdiction wouldn’t mean crap to you if there was a possibility of a necromancer being involved.”

Oh, how well Sam knew him. He smiled wryly. “I’ve read every book I have and some from the City Archives. Twice. Nothing. I can find no explanation.”

“Damn.” Sam spat out. “I was hoping you might have some sort of lead. Sam’s face was creased with worry. Not a usual look for him.

Ian asked, “Has there been another body turn up?”

“No, not exactly. But as of this morning this is an official Blades case and I need you on it.”

“If necromancy isn’t involved and there aren’t any bodies, is there anything I can really do?” Ian asked. Not because he was unwilling to help, he just didn’t know how he possibly could.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure there are bodies, lots of them. We just haven’t found them.” Sam said, running a hand over his face tiredly.

“A lot of bodies? Shit, Sam. What’s going on?” There was never a shortage of work for the necromancers that worked with the Blades, but that was because they could glean information from spirits on all types of cases. Actual murder, while rampant in the unprotected Outer Zones, the wild territory between the safety of the walls of the various cities, towns and communes, it was very rare inside the walls of Nash City. A lot of potential bodies could only mean murder.

“I can’t really explain it all right now. Can you get down here?”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.” He swiped his hand across the scry and Sam’s image disappeared. He grabbed a hunk of bread and cheese from the plate and headed for the door.

 

 

****

Sam looked up from a thick stack of papers as Ian walked into his office in the Blade Headquarters less than twenty minutes later. “Ian, thanks for getting here so quickly. Have a seat.” He gestured to a well used wooden chair across from his desk.

Ian took in Sam’s tired and haggard appearance, his rumpled clothes and the papers strewn across his desk. His friend’s abrupt and urgent request for him to get down here had made him wonder what had happened and everything he observed since he stepped on to the thirtieth floor was evidence that it was something pretty major. “What’s going on Sam? It’s a madhouse out there,” he said, jerking his head at the general chaos of agents and office personnel rushing around in the outer offices.

“It’s been that way since about three this morning, and I’m afraid it isn’t going to get much better anytime soon.” He leaned back tiredly in his chair.

“Okay, I was supposed to be off the rest of the week but I get an urgent message to get my ass in your office ASAP, so I’m here. Looks like all hell has broken loose. What’s up…” Fiona stopped short in the doorway. “Oh, sorry I can come back.”

Sam waved her in. “I was waiting on you to get started. We’ll discuss later why, when you live a block away and Ian is more than a mile away and I called you twenty minutes before him, it took you longer to get here.”

Fiona let out a loud sigh, rolled her eyes and plopped into the chair next to Ian. “I had a late night, I was on leave you know. Plus, it takes a while to look this fabulous.”

Ian’s eyes scanned her body, taking in her appearance. She wore a snug fitting, multi-pocketed brown leather vest over a loose, faded blue short sleeved tunic. Her dark brown leather pants were tucked into black combat boots that were worn, but cleaner than they had been three days before. Her thick black hair was pulled back into a crooked, haphazard braid and tied with a thin leather thong. The only thing about her outfit that could have taken more than three minutes to throw on was the myriad of blades he knew she had stuck in her boots and the thick leather utility belt that was slung low over her hips.

Nonetheless, she did look fabulous. The leather pants clung to her firm, rounded thighs beneath the hem of her tunic and the snug vest did nothing to take away from lush curve of her breasts. Her clothes were like any other Blade’s, utilitarian, tough, and ready for action, yet on her they added to, rather than detracted from, her raw, sexual beauty. Ian felt himself hardening involuntarily, a craving for her that never really went away starting to grow into an intense hunger. He fought for control. He slid his gaze back to Sam in order to dampen his lust and get his brain back on track.

“So, Sam, what has happened?” He hoped his voice didn’t sound as strangled as he felt.

Sam raised one eyebrow at Ian. He’d obviously seen Ian’s reaction to Fiona but after a moment he must have decided to dismiss it in light of other, more important, issues because he picked up two files from his desk and tossed one each to Ian and said, “For starters, we have identified your dead body in the morgue.”

Ian and Fiona spoke at the same time.

“What do you mean “our” dead body.”

“Who is he? How did you ID him?”

Sam shot them a hard glare. “Give me a minute to go over the details, would you? There are quite a lot of them. First, Fiona,” he said her name pointedly. “Your dead body because this just became an official Blades case and you two have landed the lead positions. I’ll go into the whys on that in a minute, don’t interrupt me.” He held up a hand as Fiona opened her mouth.

He continued, quickly, before either could respond. “Let me start at the beginning. Yesterday afternoon a transcriber in the typing pool at the City Guard headquarters noticed a disturbing trend. He found three women and two men, all mages, that were reported missing in an eight week period. Their profiles are in the files I gave you.

“They all lived in different districts around Nash City and New Nashville. That is why no one caught it before now.”

Ian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “If they lived in different districts how are they connected and what does it have to do with the body?”

Sam sighed. “Well, as the transcriber pointed out to his supervisor, each and every one of them were last seen in or around businesses on Broadway. This morning around three, the med mages finally identified the body in the morgue. His name is Abel Evans, and he was 24 years old when he went missing a little over five weeks ago. He was the third name on the transcribers list.”

Fiona sat up and slid to the edge of her chair. “So our attempted kidnapper went into hiding and kidnapped four people before he was stopped by a 16 year old girl?”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if it were that cut and dry. But then you wouldn’t be sitting in my office annoying me, I would have gotten a good night’s sleep and all those agents out there wouldn’t be pulling double shifts.” Sam shot Fiona a tired, exasperated look.

“It’s a plausible theory,” Ian said, not sure why he felt the need to defend Fiona, especially after she shot him a look that clearly told him she could take care of herself and he should shut the fuck up.

“Agents covered that first thing this morning. When questioned about the dates of the two previous kidnappings, his mother gave him solid alibis. She hadn’t yet been informed of his body and had been told by the agents they were investigating the possibility that someone tried to harm him on those dates. Unless other evidence is found we are going with the theory that there is someone else behind the kidnappings, though we aren’t ruling out that he was involved. He could have had a partner.”

Fiona looked thoughtful. After a moment she asked, “What have the med-mages said about his body? Could he have had a disease of some sort? Perhaps he wasn’t trying to hurt Millie, but was sick and trying to get help and scared her?”

“Nothing so far. There were no bodily fluids at all, so it is making analysis slow going, but so far they’ve found no toxins and no contagions.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Frankly, we still have no clue on that front. As strange as it is, it is actually our secondary concern right now. The disappearances officially became a Blades case when his body was identified and I currently have agents scouring the last six months worth of Guard cases to see if there are any other cases that fit the trend.”

Ian flipped the file in his hand closed. “I can visit the residences and places of work of the victims. Even if they haven’t died and returned there may be spirits that know something that can help.”

“That is exactly what I want you to do. Together. We aren’t sure what we are messing with so I can’t be sure you wouldn’t be in danger alone. But, we have a more pressing matter. Another young girl was reported missing yesterday.” Sam told them.

“You think it is related? Does it fit the pattern?” Fiona said.

“She was last seen three nights ago just outside of Pinky’s Pub.” Sam said, his tone measured.

“I was down in the pub three nights ago,” Fiona said. Her face was an unreadable mask, but Ian detected a slight tension in her voice.

“We both were,” Ian added. “I didn’t notice anything unusual.” Other than Fiona’s reaction to their kiss, but he didn’t feel Sam needed to know anything about that.

“That doesn’t surprise me. According to the investigation reports by the Guards, other than the attempted abduction of Millie Linton four nights ago, there were no public disturbances involving the victims. Considering the dark alley Miss Linton was in, if she hadn’t succeeded in getting into the open, there might not have been any trace of her either.” Sam said, getting out of his chair to walk around and sit on the corner of his desk closest to Fiona.

“Now, Fiona you should know at least two of the missing women were in Pinky’s Pub at some point the nights they disappeared,” he continued, his voice low and calm as if breaking unsettling news to a child. Ian understood, immediately, why. Fiona wasn’t known for her level headed thinking, and though he didn’t know her nearly as well as he wanted, he knew her well enough to know that she would be very protective of her family.

Fiona’s hands gripped the edge of the chair so tight her knuckles turned white, but when she spoke her voice was low and carefully moderated. “Pinky had nothing to do with these disappearances.”

“I know.” Sam said quickly. “No one thinks otherwise. If I did, you wouldn’t be in my office getting the rundown on the case. But both he and Anya will have to be questioned. River also, since she lives in the building. It’s standard procedure. I’ve already sent two agents.”

“I want to be there.” She started to stand but a light touch from Sam on her shoulder made her sit back down. Ian marveled at their relationship. He imagined that if he had touched her he would have ended up with a couple of broken fingers.

Sam’s voice was low, but stern. “No. I need you here. There is something more important for you to do than babysit your family through routine questioning. But, I did have Jarrett tag along with the agents. He isn’t officially on the job, but he was in the office this morning, at loose ends and I knew you’d feel better knowing he was there with them.”

Ian could see some of the tension that had held her stiff and straight in the chair ease out. Her posture softened visibly and she sunk back into the chair. But she didn’t relax completely. Her stony gaze was fixed on Sam. “Okay, but don’t think this is over. You ambushed me with this. I know you were just trying to make things easier for the other agents by making sure I was out of the way first, but I don’t like it and we will discuss it later.”

“Fair enough,” Sam replied, seemingly unconcerned.

With that little exchange over, Ian decided it was time to inject himself back into the conversation. “I know enough about procedure to know that since Fiona lives in the building she shouldn’t be on this case. As a matter of fact, since we were both in the pub the night the most recent victim went missing, neither of us should be on this case. Even assuming you have checked our alibis for the nights the others disappeared—am I right in assuming you checked case files on Fiona, and that the moment I set foot in this building you sent agents to my building to question the guards about my whereabouts the nights in question?”

“Yes, on both. Just to avoid any appearance of impropriety.” Sam replied, obviously not surprised or offended by the question.

“Okay,” Ian continued. “So, assuming we are cleared of any possible suspicion, we are still potential witnesses. That makes it highly irregular to have either of us anywhere near the case, much less in charge. Not to belittle the importance of several missing people, but that doesn’t seem big enough to flout procedure when there are many well qualified Blade agents and Guild certified necromancers that can take charge. What makes this case special?”

Sam returned to his desk chair, sat down, and handed each of them another file folder. “Farah Purcell, the young woman reported missing most recently, is the daughter of Granger Purcell. Not only is he a Norm Senator, but he is slated to be the next Norm Chancellor at the end of the year.”

In the chair next to him, Fiona let out an audible groan and slammed her palm into her forehead. Ian was too professional to indulge in such a display of emotion, but inside he mentally copied her. This was, indeed, a complicated case.

“As soon as the pattern of disappearances was discovered by the Guards an audit of most recent cases. Of course the Senators daughter was already a high priority for them, but when they saw her disappearance fit the pattern the Commander informed the Chief Magistrate of the City Guard, who sent the info over to us to become a part of our case. As is her duty, Magistrate Collins then took it to the Chancellors, waking them up. From what the magistrate told me, it took them all of three minutes to scry me to make the Purcell case top priority.”

“I’m surprised a missing Senators daughter hadn’t already been made a Blades case.” Ian said, matter-of-factly.

The Senate, the governing body of the Nash City-State, consisted of sixteen senators. Four each of mages, vampires, shifters, and norms. New Senators were elected for a four year term and allowed only one term every 12 years. The High Council was the head of the Senate with four of the Senators acting as Chancellors. The seats on the High Council rotated so that each Senator was a Chancellor for one out of the four years of their term. The High Council and Senate was always balanced with the same number representing the four classes of Citizens.

The Senate was the governing body for the City Guard, but the Black Blade Guard operated outside the purview of the Senate and fell under the leadership and jurisdiction of the Paranorm Council of Elders. The Blades, however, were more highly trained and experienced in all aspects of paranormal law enforcement than the City Guard. While the Guard had the benefit of having many retired Blades as instructors at the Academy, Blade training was much more vigorous extended an additional year and was only offered to the best and most powerful of Academy students. In addition, the City Guard had only been in operation since the Reconstruction, less than two hundred years. The Black Blade Guard had been established for more than a millennia, though it had been a much smaller, secret force at the time. However, many of the vampires in the Blades had been in service for multiple centuries. The collective knowledge and experience made higher profile cases immediate jurisdiction of the Blades.

Sam let out a short snort. “Nan Collins has ambitions beyond Chief Magistrate of the City Guard. She has aspirations to run for one of the Mage Senate seats in the next term election. The Purcell case would have been one hell of a feather in her cap. I’m sure that is why she kept the case under her jurisdiction.”

Fiona laughed derisively. “And I’m betting the second she saw it was likely related to the strange dead body case, she handed it over gladly. The thing about career making cases is that they can break them too. No one wants to be stuck with a case so bizarre they have no hopes of solving it. So goody for us, we get to take charge of the weird, unsolvable case.”

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