It was like taking a hammer to the face. White exploded in his skull, and Adrian Fleming hit the cement floor on his back with a high, wheezing scream of pain.
Backlash. Somebody broke my fucking spell!
Magic poured into him, a searing wave of psychic energy that bowed his spine. He dimly realized it was somebody’s life force, being funneled to him through the circle at Ray’s house. But instead of triggering the usual intense orgasmic pleasure, the power collided with the backlash, searing his brain.
Adrian convulsed, his body writhing in the center of the magic circle. One kicking foot hit one of the bottles standing around him. It flew out of the circle, hit the wall, and shattered. The air filled with the smell of spilled vodka.
The agony went on and on, feeling as if someone had turned his brain inside out and was dragging it out of his skull through his eye sockets by the optic nerves. Minutes went by before the pain faded enough that he could think again. He lay on his side in a pool of something that stank. Grimacing, Adrian rolled out of the vomit, wiping at his bare skin in disgust. The nauseating reek warred with the potent odor of spilled alcohol.
Panting raggedly, he stared up at the basement’s ceiling, trying to figure out what the hell had gone wrong. His head ached as if his skull was the clapper of a huge bell, banging against the bronze walls.
It wasn’t the first time he’d suffered backlash, of course. Nobody in his line of work escaped having a spell broken. But it was the first time he’d experienced it on top of having someone’s life force driven into his brain using the same magical conduit. Turned out that was a really bad idea.
Moving like an arthritic old man, Adrian struggled to sit up and arrange his legs in the lotus position. Glancing around, he saw only six of bottles of liquor had survived. He’d have to make do.
He badly needed to talk to Ray, but he didn’t want to call the Alchemist if the man was surrounded by cops. And he must be, because it certainly wasn’t Ray who’d broken that ward.
In the distance, Adrian could sense the two inner rings of the spell circle still operating. That wouldn’t last long. Whoever had dropped the wards would take the rest out next.
Gingerly, he reached out along the link to Ray’s tattoo. He’d had a hell of a time talking the Alchemist into that tatt. Ray, unlike the Human Heritage suckers, knew exactly what Adrian could do with something like that. He’d agreed only if the sigil was strictly one way. It could send energy to Adrian, but Adrian couldn’t use it to send Ray a magical heart attack. Even so, the Alchemist had charged him $10,000 to piggyback on the sacrifice.
There was no sense of Ray’s magic on the other end of the link.
“Well, shit. He’s dead,” Adrian said aloud.
What the hell had happened? Somehow the cops had gotten wind of the plan to sacrifice the kid. They must have brought Genevieve Briggs on board to break his spell. Harris didn’t have the juice.
Damn it. He’d known there was a risk Nolan and Harris would show up, simply because Ray lived in Nolan’s patrol zone. That was why he’d sent John Reese and Bill Garrison to the other end of the county to take potshots at cops and bystanders from the thick woods there. The idea wasn’t so much to kill anybody as to stir enough shit to keep every cop in Laurel County busy for hours.
It should have worked more than long enough for Ray to take his time with his sacrifices. If things had gone according to plan, no one would have found the bodies until Ray was halfway to Cuba.
Meghan must have managed to get out a 911 call, the bitch. He hoped she’d died hard. That was the whole point of the entire scenario -- not just to kill Noah, but to do it as slowly as possible, inflicting the maximum amount of pain and despair to harvest as much juice as possible from both mother and son.
All of which should add up to a fat magical payoff for Adrian, which he could use for the next step of his plan. It was too bad Ray had died, but in the plus column, he now had even more life force to use. And he was going to need it for the spell he had in mind.
Except… Adrian frowned, considering the psychic sizzle of magic he could feel burning in the background of his consciousness. The life force of three people should have a greater kick than…
“Ray, you fuck up!” he snarled as realization hit. “You didn’t manage to complete the sacrifice, did you?” Judging by the amount of power the spell had liberated, it felt as if Ray was the only one who died. Still, if the kid ended up dying of his injuries before Genevieve Briggs broke the rest of Adrian’s spell, he’d…
The hammer came out of nowhere and hit him in the face again. It was even worse than the first time.
* * *
Erica sat on the living room floor, ignoring the cops bustling around the crime scene collecting evidence as she struggled to draw whoever had cast the lethal spell. She was willing to swear it wasn’t Ray. She doubted the Alchemist had had that kind of power, judging by the strength of his aura.
Unfortunately, the sketchpad, like her mind’s eye, remained stubbornly blank. She was having a hell of a time drawing on her magic through the waves of pain throbbing in her temples.
At least she’d finally managed to break the two remaining layers of the spell circle, the one to gather the life force of Ray’s victims, and the second designed to transmit it to the sigil, which would have then sent it to whoever engineered the whole revolting plot. Unfortunately, the second session drawing on Jake’s magic had kicked her ass even harder than the first. Her Talent seemed to be out to lunch, which meant no sketch of Boss Asshole.
Though Ray had been the one to spill the child’s blood, any third party would have had to use his own blood in the spell itself. But she couldn’t pick up shit right now. By the time her magic recovered, the remaining magical energy would be too degraded to use.
Maybe she should have tried the drawing first, but she’d been afraid if she left the spell running, Boss Asshole might use it to kill Noah. She didn’t regret the decision, but it meant no sketch.
It didn’t exactly help her concentration that her uniform pants were sticky with drying blood, making her stomach roll at the meaty smell of it. She’d never craved a shower more desperately in her life.
At least Noah and his mother were on their way to the hospital, and both were still alive. So far anyway.
“Oh, fuck this,” Erica groaned and threw the pad aside. Letting her elbows rest on her knees, she massaged her throbbing temples.
“Anything?”
She looked up to see Grant Sawyer watching her. The detective had a notebook in his hand and a sympathetic expression on his face. “I can tell you one thing. Somewhere in this town is someone who uses magical tattoos to work death magic.” Wearily, she got to her feet. “Have the pathologist sample that ink for DNA that doesn’t belong to Ray. For the spell to work, the tattooist must have used his own blood to create magical ink. We also need DNA swabs of the spell circle itself. All of which means when we catch him, his defense attorney is going to have a hell of a time arguing his innocence.”
Sawyer’s brows rose. “Wait, this guy tattoos people with his own blood? Isn’t that a good way to spread HIV?”
She shook her head. “Not with the spells on the ink. Arcs have been doing magical tats for hundreds of years. The Corps uses them to amplify the Talents of some of our special ops guys.”
Sawyer perked up. “So all I have to do is find out who in this town does magical tattoos, compare the DNA and…”
“Maybe.” Erica considered the idea, then shook her head. “But I doubt it.” She gestured at the floor, where the crime scene investigator had sprayed Luminol to reveal the remnants of the spell’s blood-infused paint. Each of the sigils was intricate and crisply drawn. “Honestly, I don’t think any of the local guys would have the juice to do something like this. Laurelton’s got some good Arc tattooists, but this working is on a completely different level. It’s a dense, professional spell backed by a hell of a lot of power.”
He looked disappointed. “So looking for local artists is a waste of time?”
“I wouldn’t say that, but don’t get your hopes up. This spell looks too much like stuff I saw in the war -- the kind done by serious sorcerers. I wouldn’t have been able to break it if I hadn’t drawn on Jake’s magic.”
Sawyer stared at her, his eyes widening. “Are you saying we’re dealing with another terrorist?”
Erica winced. If there was one thing guaranteed to spray gasoline on an already explosive situation, it was the prospect of terrorist involvement in Laurel County. The whole county had PTSD from the last time. “I don’t know, Sawyer. I hope not.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “And we’ve got that Humanist march next weekend. This town is going to go up in a fireball.”
They contemplated that for a moment in glum silence. At last, Sawyer sighed. “You really need a shower before someone shoots cell phone video of you looking like the last reel of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”
Erica glanced down at the stiff, sticky fabric of her uniform. “Well, at least the black fabric doesn’t show the blood -- much.”
“That’s probably the idea.”
“Probably. Have you seen the sarge? I need to ask him if I can swing by the house to change.”
He smiled crookedly, as if knowing exactly how little she was looking forward to any conversation with Roger Johnson. “I think he’s outside talking to Nolan.”
Erica winced, wondering how much shit the sergeant was giving Jake. “Thanks. Give me a call if you need anything.”
But he caught her elbow as she started past. “You did a good job today. Keep that in mind if Johnson starts giving you a hard time.”
She smiled at him, pleased with the compliment. “That means a lot.”
As usual at any major crime scene, the front yard and the street beyond looked like a cop convention. Police units lined the road, and crime scene tape encircled the house. At least this time she hadn’t had to string it.
Jake and Johnson stood with their backs to her. Based on their stiff posture, whatever conversation they were having wasn’t pleasant. Checking their auras, she saw a storm cloud swirl of red in various shades, ranging from irritated to seriously pissed off. Jake was the pissed one.
Yeah, the sarge was being charming.
Which meant an interruption was in order. Erica headed toward them, her own anger working its way through the waves of her headache. “Hey, Sergeant?”
He turned and looked at her, his expression icy. What, no attaboy for saving the civilians? I’m shocked.
“You able to sketch whoever cast that spell?”
Erica shook her head. “I wasn’t able to pick up anything.”
The blue swirling in his aura looked a lot like relief. “That’s twice you came up empty.”
Jake turned, eyes narrowing, and Erica caught a flash of Clarence’s mane around his shoulders. “Considering she just saved a nine-year old and his mother from becoming human sacrifices, I think she came up aces.”
Johnson’s head whipped toward him, and the two men locked gazes.
Erica’s muscles tensed as anger boiled through Jake’s aura, brightening visibly with Clarence’s contribution. Oh God, don’t manifest!
“That goes without saying,” Johnson said at last, his tone clipped.
Jake’s aura dimmed, and his expression flattened with concentration. He’s making Clarence retreat. Even as her shoulders relaxed, she frowned at herself. Well, of course. She’d seen Jake retain control under a lot worse circumstances than this -- like when he didn’t eat Ray.
He’s not Bobby, damn it. Maybe I need to quit acting as if he is. Anyway, even Bobby didn’t start losing it until he melded with Selena. Cut the man a break.
The sergeant turned to her. “You look like you rolled in blood. Go home and take a shower, then head back to the department. You’ve got a lot of paperwork to do, and I’m sure the sheriff is going to have questions.” He flicked Jake a look. “You too, Nolan. We can’t have the civilians think you’ve been eating people.” He walked away.
Erica and Jake exchanged the same what-an-asshole look they’d employed about certain Arcane Corps superiors. Then his brows lowered in concern. “You’ve got a migraine, don’t you?”
“Yep.” She sighed. “I couldn’t get a damn thing on that Arc. I didn’t have anything left.”
“It was worth a try. You do realize they’re going to put both of us on administrative leave for at least a couple of days?”
Erica straightened in alarm. “They don’t think the shooting was justified?”
He waved that concern away. “No, no, leave’s just standard procedure in any officer-involved shooting. For one thing, they figure you need a couple of mental health days after something like this.” He grimaced. “And they’re right.”
“You’re not feeling guilty about killing that asshole?”
“God, no. I’d rather have arrested him, but he didn’t give me that option.” Jake frowned, troubled. “I just keep thinking about what Noah went through, how terrified that child must’ve been. Judging by all those shallow cuts and the amount of blood, Ray spent at least half an hour torturing him. Makes me want to kill the bastard all over again.”
“Can’t say as I blame you.”
He sighed. “I keep second-guessing every additional minute we took. Even putting Noah’s mother in the car left him at the creep’s mercy a few minutes longer.”
“I know, but breaking a ward like that is like defusing a bomb. It could’ve been designed to kill Noah the minute we tried to take it down. I had to know what it did before I could touch it.” She raked both hands through her hair. “Do I wish Genevieve had been there? Oh hell, yes. She probably could have broken it the minute she walked in the door.”
Jake met her gaze with such intensity he seemed to stare at her soul. “Erica, I would not have wanted anyone else at my back today. And that includes Genevieve. She’s come through in some nasty situations, and God knows she’s got power, but you’ve got the training. And you’re tough.”
Even with her temples banging like a kettledrum, the compliment made her smile. “Thanks.” She hesitated. “You kept a handle on Clarence just now, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I did. I’ll admit he wanted to take a bite out of Johnson, but we’re not stupid. Both of us learned our lesson the last time.”
“And that wasn’t the first time today you controlled Clarence either. After I dropped the ward, I could see him trying to manifest, even as strung out as I was. I could feel how much he wanted to rip Ray’s throat out.”
“He wasn’t the only one,” Jake admitted.
“But if you’d manifested, Ray would’ve stabbed Noah before you managed to clear the distance.”
“Yeah, I had to haul pretty hard on both our leashes in order to shoot him instead.”
Erica looked him in the eye and told him the truth she’d realized when she watched him take Ray down. “I was wrong when I said we couldn’t afford a relationship. I think… I think part of it was because I’m afraid.” She looked away. “Losing Bobby…”
“Yeah?”
“I think Dave’s right. I think it’s time I grow a pair.”
He pretended to recoil in horror. “Oh, God, don’t do that!”
She gave him the side eye. “Do you and Dave have the same gag writer? Jake, I’m saying I want to try again.”
“Yeah?” Jake’s aura lit up like the Fourth of July in shades of electric blue delight.
“On one condition…”
“What?”
She smirked. “You promise not to eat anybody.”
Dimples flashed. “With one exception, I hope.”
“Just one.”
* * *
The rest of the day was as exhausting and frustrating as she expected. First came the paperwork -- and there were reams of it for an officer-involved shooting -- then the interrogation. To avoid a possible conflict of interest, Sheriff Gable had asked the South Carolina Law Enforcement Division, AKA SLED, to handle the investigation. SLED was basically South Carolina’s answer to the FBI.
Agents Thomas Romero and Sabrina McPherson were both scrupulously polite and painstaking in their questioning, which meant Erica spent an hour narrating the body cam footage to explain what she’d done. Fortunately, Romero was a Talent, and both were specialists in investigating magical crimes.
“So far it all looks pretty cut and dried,” Romero told her. A distinguished older man, he was a veteran Arcanist who’d retired from the Corps to pursue a second career in law enforcement. “There are a few more things we need to check, but it seems to me you’re in the clear.” He smiled at her, dark eyes crinkling at the corners. “Good job breaking that ward, by the way. I saw the crime scene photos of that thing. It must’ve been a bitch to take down.”
She grimaced. “Pretty much.”
Romero’s partner, a plump African-American woman with shrewd, cool eyes, gave her an approving nod. “That boy and his mother owe you their lives.”
Erica’s grimace morphed into a smile. Noah was out of critical condition, and his mother had been released from the hospital. “Thanks.”
When the agents finally declared themselves satisfied, Erica found Jake waiting in the Alpha bullpen finishing up his report on the shooting. She gave him a searching glance. “How are you doing?”
He straightened and rolled his shoulders as if his back hurt. “Could’ve been worse. Those SLED agents could have been Humanists, which was what I was afraid of.” With a sigh, he shut down the laptop. “Let’s get out of here before somebody remembers another form I have to fill out.”
Outside, the moon hung cold and bright in the cool April darkness. Erica paused, drawing a deep breath of the fragrant air.
Jake slanted her a look. “Would you like to come over?”
Her head was pounding, and she felt battered, wrung out. And yet she longed desperately to feel those strong, warm arms around her. Wanted it so badly she was tempted to kiss him right now, parking lot cameras be damned.
As if mistaking her longing for hesitation, he took a step closer. “I’m not asking you to make love tonight -- I know you’re not up to it. To be honest, I’m not either. I’m fried.” He met her gaze, his eyes reflecting the glow from the nearby streetlamp. “I just need to hold you.” The words came out so low and rough, they almost thrummed. “I need to sleep with you in my arms -- or I’m not going to be able to sleep at all.”
“God, so do I. And I really want to get the fuck away from the security cameras, so I can kiss you. Let me swing by the house to shower and pack an overnight bag. Give me about forty-five minutes.”
His face lit despite his obvious weariness. “I’ll have a couple of Mellow Microbrews waiting.”
“Bless you.”
* * *
Jake met her at the door wearing only a pair of faded jeans, his blond hair damp and dark from his own shower. She paused on the doorstep, just drinking in the sight of the muscled Vee of his chest, broad and dusted with golden hair.
“Hi. Didn’t you say something about a kiss?” he asked, dimples flashing.
With a growl of strangled need and desperation, she went into his arms. Jake tasted of toothpaste, as the scent of shampoo, magic and masculinity flooded her head. Her magical senses detected Clarence’s chuffing somewhere in the distance.
Jake drew her backwards, freeing one hand just long enough to swing the front door closed. She barely heard the bang, too intent on the taste of his mouth, the press of his erection. He felt so damned good. Why in the hell had she stayed away?
When he turned her toward the living room, she wrapped her arm around his lean waist with a sigh. “You know it’s been a bad day when you need three showers.”
“At least there was less blood the third time.” He grimaced. “Though I still reeked. Nothing like an interrogation in a Kevlar vest to give your deodorant a workout.”
She frowned. “They told me it was cut and dried.”
Jake took her hand and pulled her after him into the living room, where two cans of beer sat on the coffee table. Handing her one, he said, “Yeah, but I still shot a man. They couldn’t go easy on me.”
Erica settled down on the couch next to him, admiring the broad, muscled contours of his bare chest. Her gaze slid downward, and her eyes widened in anticipation at his impressive erection. “Why, hellloooo there.” With a mischievous smile, she reached to trace her forefinger along the length of his bulging zipper.
Jake caught her wrist and gave her a crooked smile. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“My headache’s really not that bad.”
“Yeah, no. Last thing I want you to feel making love to me is pain. I’m not into that.”
“That’s not what I heard. Wasn’t there that nurse…”
To her delight, his cheeks reddened. “Bobby told you about that? Anyway, she asked me for that spanking.”
“The way I heard it, you were more than happy to give it to her.”
“That was then. Now I’m into whatever you’re into.”
“Maybe I’m up for a little adventure too.” She gave him a seductive smile, ignoring a warning pulse from her temples.
“Ask me sometime when you don’t have that headache line between your eyebrows, and I’ll be happy to play whatever games you want.” His smile turned dark and wicked. “In fact, there’s nothing I’d like more. But not tonight.”
“So what do you want to do tonight?”
“We could try something really radical. Talk. Drink a beer or two. Unwind.” He lowered his head, a smile curving his lips. “Kiss.”
Erica smiled back. “Sounds good.”
* * *
An hour later, pleasantly relaxed from a couple of Mello Micros, they stripped and settled down in Jake’s big bed. Erica half expected the moment to segue into delicious sex, and headache or not, wasn’t averse to the idea.
He arrested her roaming hands with his larger ones. “Sleep. I promise to make it up to you in the morning.” His voice dropped into that wonderful low register he used. “I want your undivided attention when we make love.”
“Hmmmm. Well, okay, if you insist.” With a sigh, Erica wrapped her arms around him, nestled against his hard warmth, and closed her eyes, listening to the comforting thump of his heart.
A soft psychic rumble sounded in the darkness, and she glimpsed Clarence’s maned head above them in a swirl of golden light. He chuffed at her and vanished.
As Jake’s breathing deepened and slowed, it occurred to her Bobby would never have turned down sex if she’d offered it, headache or not.
Three days. They had three days of administrative leave. Then after that they’d need to work the Humanist protest -- it was going to be all hands on deck for that little party. But in the meantime they’d have three glorious days together. Nobody shooting at them, no Humanist assholes giving them a hard time.
Whatever will we do with ourselves? Erica grinned into the dark.