Magic in the Shadows (16 page)

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Authors: Devon Monk

BOOK: Magic in the Shadows
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My father’s hatred burned chemical hot in my brain and everything went white for a second.
Violet, strangely enough, did not seem to notice Kevin’s barely concealed attentiveness. She was all business, a scientist with her thoughts on the problem at hand, not the people around her.
“I do think it is the full discharge of magic one of the disks could carry,” she said.
“Which leaves us with several more still out there.” Stotts said.
“Several?” I asked, leaning against my dad, like he was a door in a hard wind that refused to close. I wasn’t gaining much ground against him. I—or rather Dad—could not look away from Kevin, could not see anything but the man who had touched Violet. My Violet. My wife.
Holy shit. I pushed harder.
“We are unsure how many disks were stolen,” Violet said. “There was a fire in the lab that destroyed evidence from the break-in. But we think at least one was used to cast that spell at Nola’s.”
I frowned.
“The circle you don’t remember seeing. A circle like this was left behind at Nola’s farm. This”—she pointed at the ring on the floor—“is similar to what we saw in lab tests. I’ll double-check of course, but I’m comfortable saying this is the discharge of one of the disks. And as far as we know, no one but Daniel—” She visibly swallowed, then nodded to herself, accepting her own verbal slip. “No one but me knows how to recharge the disks.”
“So they’re worthless?” I asked. “Once they’re used, no one knows how to reuse them?”
“An unloaded gun is still a gun,” Stotts said.
“Someone could crack the code,” Violet agreed. “Get lucky and correctly interpret the combination of glyphs and tech . . .” She took a couple steps along the edge of the circle. “Are you sure it was a Conversion spell?”
“Yes,” I lied.
Dad pushed harder, the pressure of his will like a dull-edged blade sinking into the back of my eyes. He wanted to say something—he wanted to make me say something more to her. I clamped my back teeth down and pressed my lips together.
“Interesting,” Violet said. I couldn’t tell if she believed me or not. “Is there anything else you need from me, Detective?”
“The test results, when you have them.”
“I’ll get that to you this afternoon.”
“Thank you,” he said.
Kevin walked forward to stand beside Violet, just slightly too close. No, he stood much, much too close. He reached out to take her hand again.
My father’s anger built to an unbearable pain. My vision flashed white again.
“I need to talk to you, Violet,” I blurted out. A flash of heat poured over my face and chest. I didn’t know if that was me or my dad talking.
Kevin frowned, his eyes suddenly narrow. Those weren’t puppy dog eyes. Those were the eyes of a bodyguard, a killer. And a well-trained member of the Authority who knew something was terribly wrong with me.
Smart man.
At his look, my father in me stilled. Not because he was afraid. No. All I felt from him was burning hatred and betrayal.
Stop it. You’re dead. You have no say over what Violet or anyone around her does.
I concentrated and pushed on him mentally. Pushed him farther back in my mind.
He has no right
, my father’s voice rang in my mind. Not loud, like he was yelling. Very softly, in almost a lullaby tone.
Which meant he wasn’t just mad; he was crazy, killing mad.
I rubbed my fingertips over my eyes and forehead, forcing my eyes to close so I couldn’t see Kevin, so my father couldn’t see Kevin or Violet.
“Allie?” Violet asked, concern in her voice.
“Sorry.” It came out a little shaky, but it was all me. “I’m a little tired.” I took a short breath and mentally shoved at my dad as hard as I could.
I wanted him out of my head. Away, gone. Back behind his curtain. Farther back, if I could manage it. Back where I could no longer feel him. Back until he was no longer a part of me.
Yes, I was angry. And yes, I knew magic couldn’t be used when you were in a state of high emotion. But I wasn’t using magic against my father. This was nothing more than sheer willpower, determination, and stubbornness of who wanted control of my head and body more.
Believe me, it was me.
“Do you need to sit?” Violet asked.
I still had my eyes closed, my fingers rubbing at my forehead. I knew I had to answer, knew this shoving match with Dad was taking too long. Fine, if I couldn’t push him away, I’d shut him out. I willed a wall between my father and me, a black, thick wall of granite to replace the curtain between us.
For a brief moment, I saw him, dressed in a business suit like he was always dressed, but younger and stronger than I remembered him. His hair was black with no hint of gray, the lines on his face smooth. Death, apparently, did good things for one’s complexion. He scowled at me and raised his hand, as if to cast a spell—
I mentally took a step back, thinking,
Wall, wall, wall, I really need a wall between us
.
“Allie?” A touch on my arm. I opened my eyes.
Stotts raised his eyebrows but didn’t take his hand off of my arm. “Are you sick?”
“Tired,” I said. Wait, I’d already said that. Great. “Sorry. It’s the Hounding. Proxy headache,” I lied again. I had to stop living the kind of life where it was better to lie to the secret magic police than to tell the truth. “Are we done?” I nodded toward the circle of ash.
“I’ll need your report on what you Hounded.”
“Right.” I stepped back, and he let go of my arm. The wall in my head sat like a real weight, as if I’d put on a hat made out of concrete. But the good thing was I couldn’t hear my father’s voice, couldn’t see him, and he wasn’t pushing at me. I could feel his emotions, but they were not nearly as strong. He was still angry, still betrayed, but with the Mt. Everest of don’t-give-a-damn between us, his motions were only a whisper of what they had been just a moment ago.
I took a breath and tried to get my feet under me again.
“Do you want me to come down to the station to give my statement?” I asked Stotts.
“Yes. But we need to wait until the cleanup team arrives.”
“How long is that going to take?”
“Ten minutes. Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?”
“Maybe.” I braced myself to look over at Violet, to be ready to fight my dad’s reactions to seeing her and Kevin again.
At least he didn’t know she was pregnant. And if I had anything to do with it, I wouldn’t think about that any time that he could hear my thoughts. Like when I was dreaming. Or when he was trying to mutiny in my brain.
Violet stood next to Kevin, staring pensively at the circle as if she was trying to get the right answer out of an ink blot test. She and Kevin weren’t touching, but Kevin radiated that overly protective bodyguard vibe.
Dad didn’t do anything. Or at least nothing I could feel.
“Violet?”
She looked up.
“I do need to talk to you. About the business.”
“Now?” she asked.
Frankly, here, in the rain, hell, in the driving ice and snow, would be fine with me, because at this moment, I had control over my dad and could tell her I wanted her to run the company instead of me without him getting all grabby with my brain.
As if on cue, the wind picked up, whipping rain into the gazebo, and stirring the ashes that refused to blow away.
“Is now good?” I said.
“I’d really like to get this sample back to my lab,” she said. “How about dinner tonight instead?”
“Sure,” I said. “When? Where?”
“If you don’t mind coming over to our—to my place, maybe around eight?”
I had to see Maeve today, but it wasn’t even noon yet. And I didn’t have anything else to do other than catching up with Nola to try to help her with Cody, which I still might be able to swing. I didn’t know how I was going to fit it all in, but I’d try. And if Maeve helped me get rid of my father, I wouldn’t have to deal with him in my head while I was around Violet.
“I can do that,” I said.
“Then I’ll see you tonight.” She smiled. “Kevin?”
They walked together, step in step, past me.
I caught a hint of her perfume, and sadness filled me.
Bought in France, an anniversary gift. She laughed when I gave it to her, telling me it was too much, too good. I never told her what she meant to me.
I pushed that unwanted thought and the ghost of a life I had not lived back behind the wall in my head.
“You sure you’re okay?” Stotts asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Why?”
“You’re crying.”
Startled, I wiped the tear I had not felt off my face. “It’s just the wind,” I said.
I don’t know if he believed me, but he didn’t say any more as I watched, helpless hands deep in my pockets, as Violet and Kevin hurried through the rain to their car, got in, and drove away.
Chapter Six
 
“ I’m going to go talk to Davy before he catches pneumonia,” I said to Stotts. It was as good an excuse as any to get out from under Stotts’ notice. Plus, Davy looked miserable out there.
“If you need me—”
“I’ll be right over there. If I need you, you’ll know. But I won’t. Davy’s a nice kid.” I headed down the gazebo stairs.
“Even nice kids do bad things,” Stotts said.
I ignored him and took a deep breath. The sharp, wet air filled my lungs and hurt a little. It felt good. Cleansing. Too bad I couldn’t inhale with my brain.
Davy didn’t move as I approached, which was a little weird. I wondered whether he was asleep on his feet. I hurried, and was just a few feet away when he spoke.
“What is it with you and Hounding in the rain?” he asked.
“Nobody told you to stand in it,” I said. “You could just sit in your car. You did drive over, right?”
“Yeah.” The way he had the hood of his coat drawn up, I couldn’t make out more than his chin, lips, and the tip of his nose.
“What are you doing here, Silvers?” I asked.
He finally moved, tilting his head so the low morning light could cast gray pallor over his skin.
“My job.” He smiled slightly, then winced like it hurt. As well it should. There was a reason he was hiding his face. A black and red bruise spread across his right cheek, and his eye was swollen shut.
“What happened to your face?” I asked. “Start a brawl at the pub last night?”
“I don’t start brawls; I end them.” He tried the smile again, but thought better of it. “But no. I caught up with Tomi last night.” He shrugged, like that should explain everything. Problem was, I didn’t know very much about his ex-girlfriend except she was a Hound who didn’t like the buddy system Pike had set up. Oh, and she hated me.
“And?” I prompted.
“We didn’t agree on a few things.”
“What things?”
“Me having depth perception for a few days.”
I blew out air, exasperated. “Davy. Don’t make me pull this out of you. Did she do this to you?”
He hitched one shoulder, uncomfortable. “We . . .” He paused, looked off at Stotts, and I swear I saw fear cross his face.
“What, Davy?” I said, softer now, trying to coax it out of him nice-like, and resisting the urge to just yell at the boy until he told me what the hell was going on. “Tell me what she did, okay?” I could Influence him. It would be easy. A word, a tone, and a little magic, and he’d tell me anything I wanted to know. Would do anything I wanted him to do. But Influence was one of my dad’s favorite moves, and I didn’t want to be my dad any more than I had to be.
“What were you talking to her about? Your breakup?”
He sniffed and rubbed his hand down over his lips and chin.
“It wasn’t about that. We never—she never—wants to talk about that. It’s over, you know?”
“So why did you go talk to her?”
“She’s been mixed up with a guy. I think. And I think he’s using her. She says she Hounds for him . . . but she’s—she’s a cutter,” he said, and I nodded to let him know I’d already figured that out.
“She’s doing it more. Worse.” He sniffed again and looked out into the rain. Then, finally, back at me. “Something’s wrong. She’s different. Ever since she started doing things, Hounding for him, cutting for him, she’s just not. Not the same.”
I’d seen this before. It was why I’d never gotten into a relationship with a Hound. Using magic meant it used you back. It caused you pain. Most Hounds could not afford to use a Proxy service, which meant most Hounds had to endure the pain of magic use. That led Hounds to a desperate search for pain relief. Booze, drugs, cutting, self-mutilation, food, exercise. Everything in excess. Anything to get away from the pain. Chronic pain management changed people. Then it left them dead.

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