Outwit: Spellslingers Academy of Magic (Enforcer of the East Book 1) Page 9

  “Shayla, this is Callan and his associate.” Angus paused to look at me. “What’s your name, little darlin’?”

  “Cerys,” I replied, resisting the urge to kick his shin under the desk.

  “My friends are asking about a group of young men drinking here last Thursday. Twelve of them. Some might have used fake IDs.”

  “They’re members of the same group from Scoggins. I can show you a few of their photos,” Callan said.

  Shayla blew a raspberry. “No need. I know exactly which group you mean. The frat pack. They’ve been coming in here for weeks. There’s a real cutie by the name of Dan. Tall and full of delicious sexual energy.” She slurped.

  Shayla had fed off Dan? So much for his devotion to Jennifer.

  “Dan’s dead,” Callan said. “Along with all his buddies. We’re hoping you can help us figure out what happened and why.”

  Shayla’s expression crumpled. She shuffled into the office and leaned her bottom against the console table. “Dead? All of them?”

  Angus offered a sympathetic smile. “Not to worry, sweetheart. There’ll be other strapping young lads to enjoy.”

  I forced myself not to react to the angel’s insensitive comment. No wonder he was fallen.

  “Do you remember whether they spoke to anyone here?” Callan asked. “Did they stick to themselves? Did any of them appear to have the Sight?”

  Shayla’s brow creased. They were the only wrinkles she’d have for most of her life. Witches lived long lives, but they aged faster than succubi. Well, succubi that fed anyway, which Shayla clearly did.

  “Now that you mention it, they definitely didn’t all have the Sight,” she said. “Dan didn’t. He had no idea what I am.” A smile tugged at her lips. “It was pretty adorable.”

  “You think they’re all adorable at that age,” Angus said, slightly miffed.

  Shayla scooted back on the console table and swung her legs back and forth. “I won’t disagree.” A scowl suddenly marred her beautiful features. “Except that short one. What was his name?” She snapped her fingers. “Warren.”

  “Warren Jenkins?” Callan asked.

  “Yes, I remember his ID,” Shayla said. “He lived on Honeycomb Drive. I remember thinking that was a cute name for a street.”

  “His ID was genuine,” Callan said. “Warren was twenty-two.”

  “He’s one of the dead?” Shayla asked.

  “Yes,” Callan said.

  “I’m pretty sure he was the only one who possessed the Sight,” Shayla said.

  “What didn’t you like about him?” I asked.

  Shayla groaned. “He had an attitude, like he was better than everyone. He was rude to me and the rest of the staff. What do humans call it when short guys have a chip on their shoulder about their height?”

  “A Napoleon complex,” Angus said. He sounded bored.

  “That’s what he had. Big time.” Shayla giggled. “Or little time, as the case may be.”

  “Would you say he was the ringleader of the group?” I asked.

  “Definitely,” Shayla said. “He would order shots and make everyone do them. He dragged one kid out of the bathroom to join in. I was pretty sure the poor guy was hiding in a stall to escape it.”

  “They kept to themselves?” Callan asked.

  “Hard not to with a group of that size,” Shayla said. “Warren kept them on a tight leash, too. He didn’t like Dan disappearing downstairs with me, that’s for sure.” Probably because of his loyalty to Jennifer.

  “To your knowledge, they didn’t meet up with any paranormals here?” Callan pressed.

  “Not that I ever saw,” Shayla said.

  “Thanks, Shayla,” I said. “You’ve been really helpful.”

  The succubus glanced at her boss and he dismissed her with a nod. Their interaction turned my stomach. First a dog whistle and now this? Was she an employee or a slave? It reminded me of my time in the underworld—the way I’d been treated. A wave of nausea steamrolled over me.

  “Are you feeling unwell?” Angus asked.

  I straightened. “Must be the cider.”

  Callan produced a vial of green liquid from his pocket. “We could also use a little help identifying this.”

  Angus angled his head to study the vial. “May I?”

  Callan handed over the vial. “We’d like to know what its purpose is. It was found in the bodies of all the victims.”

  Callan must have decided that Angus wasn’t involved. Otherwise, I couldn’t imagine why he’d turn over the League’s main piece of evidence.

  Angus held the vial up to the light. “I’ll be needing my own assistance for this.” He set the vial on the desk and placed his hands around the warded container. I heard a snapping sound and he raised the lid.

  “Do you know what this is, my dear?” Angus asked.

  I leaned forward to examine the contents, but I couldn’t see clearly. “Should I?”

  Angus plucked a round white object from the container. “It’s called the Eye of God.”

  I balked. “Is that your other eye?”

  “Once,” Angus replied. “The only part of me that isn’t fallen.”

  I shot a look at Callan. “Is that even possible?”

  “Why do you think I’m such a League favorite?” Angus asked. “The Eye of God is more useful than any lab.”

  He removed the lid from the vial and held the Eye over top of the green liquid. “Interesting,” he murmured.

  “What is it?” Callan asked.

  “I can tell you the individual ingredients,” the angel said, “but I suspect you’ve already figured that out.”

  “Yes, the lab managed that much,” Callan said. “What we can’t identify is the mixture or its purpose.”

  Angus continued to hold the eyeball over the potion, scrutinizing it. “Whatever it is, it requires a bucket load of magic to kickstart it.”

  “That explains why they were found at a vortex,” Callan said.

  “Maybe.” Angus withdrew the eye and placed it back in its safe place. “I’ll tell you one more thing—it exacts a high price. I wouldn’t mess with a potion like this, even if it promised to restore me to full angel status.”

  “A high price?” Callan asked.

  “Not money, wolf. I’ve got plenty of that,” Angus said. He fixed Callan with an intense stare. “There’s something else in there. Old magic.”

  A shiver ran up my spine.

  “That’s all you can tell us?” Callan asked.

  “Wish I could do more. Hope you catch the bastard,” Angus said. “Whoever did this robbed me of good customers.”

  “Yes, that’s the sad part,” I mumbled.

  “We appreciate your help,” Callan said, shooting me a sharp look.

  “You’re welcome here anytime,” Angus said. “Especially when you bring a pretty partner along. My one eye thanks you.”

  I turned away before he could see me cringe. I waited until we were safely in the corridor with the door closed behind us to speak. “Doesn’t it bother you that Angus summoned Shayla with a whistle, like she’s a dog?”

  Callan cast a sidelong glance at me. “You have something against dogs?”

  “Of course not, but it was disrespectful.”

  Callan snorted. “The angel owns a paranormal bar in Terrene and trades off humans with the Sight. He employs succubi. He runs an illegal moonshine trade. Disrespect is the least of it.”

  “Then why let him operate this place at all?” I queried. “Why not shut it down?”

  “It serves a useful purpose,” Callan said simply.

  We emerged into the bar area and headed for the door. As we passed near the jukebox, a young man reached out and grabbed me.

  “You look tasty,” he said, and pulled me against his chest. “I know you’re one of them, but I can’t tell what. How about I lick you and find out?” His friends laughed and shouted encouraging words.

  I slammed my head against his nose and whipped the dagg
er from my boot, pressing the blade to his throat. The young man stared at me, completely in shock. His face sent me spiraling. His long eyelashes. His smooth, unblemished skin. The skin of a boy much younger than he actually was. My hand grew sweaty and the dagger slipped from my grasp. It clattered onto the floor and the young man took the opportunity to squeeze out from between the wall and me.

  “You stink like rotten fruit, you know that?” He spit at me, barely missing my boot, and ran straight out the door. Some humans with the Sight also had an acute sense of smell when it came to paranormals. Apparently, this guy was one of them.

  Callan observed me. “I thought you were supposed to be some badass witch training to save the world?”

  I opened my mouth to reply but no sound came out. The room began to spin.

  “Cerys?” Callan studied me and I saw the concern reflected in his dark eyes.

  I couldn’t respond. I hunched over, worried that I might vomit. I felt his arm latch onto my waist. Strong. Supportive.

  No. I stood up and he released me. As calmly as I could, I smoothed my hair away from my face. “I’m fine.”

  “Glad to hear it.” I could tell by his expression that he wasn’t buying it. Didn’t matter. I had nothing more to say. We were only bound together for two weeks. He didn’t need my life’s story. I owed him nothing.

  Angus loomed in the doorway at the back of the bar. “Who dared brandish a weapon in my bar?”

  I scooped my dagger off the floor and tucked it into my boot.

  “We should probably go,” Callan said. “Now.” He took my hand and we fled the bar before Angus spotted us.

  We drove away in mutual silence. I watched the world go by and tried to remember Alana’s tips for coping during difficult moments. I counted the stars as we passed beneath them. Some shone more brightly than others. I counted the brighter ones first and then felt guilty about it. Didn’t the dim stars deserve to be counted?

  Once we were a few miles away from the Spot, Callan hazarded a look at me. “You can talk to me, you know.”

  “I talk to you constantly,” I said. “Kind of unavoidable at the moment.”

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

  I jerked my head away to gaze out my window. “I’m not a great fighter like Bryn and Dani. That’s all. I make mistakes.”

  “Minotaur shit. Something about that guy triggered you.”

  My fingers gripped the passenger door. “I was defending myself.”

  “Rightfully so. He was a punk. He needed to learn a lesson.”

  “I scared him off,” I said.

  “And he seemed to scare you, too,” Callan said. “Your expression…It was almost like you knew him.”

  “I didn’t know him.”

  Callan’s voice softened. “Okay, I believe you. I’m just telling you what I saw.” He paused. “For the record, you smell nothing like rotten fruit. More like freshly falling rain.”

  I knew he was only trying to make me feel better. Although it was a nice gesture, I wasn’t in the mood. “We’ve got another lead to follow tomorrow,” I said. “Let’s focus on that.” I rolled down the window and let the cool night air fill the space between us. It had been a long day and I looked forward to the silence of sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  Fields of flowers in a multitude of colors stretched out before me. I inhaled the fragrant scents that mingled with the earthy smell of the dirt beneath my feet and sighed with contentment. Flowers were a beautiful representation of the circle of life.

  I bent over and sniffed the glowing patch of purple flowers closest to me. Their scent was surprisingly sweet given their appearance. Glowing flowers typically lacked a strong smell because their energy was poured into the light they emitted. As my gaze lingered on the endless bounty of flowers, I realized that I couldn’t name a single one. Strange.

  “What are you doing here?” a voice asked.

  I spun around to see a familiar young man with the faintest hint of hair on his chin and under his nose. “Ben?”

  He smiled. “You remembered. That’s kind of you. I tend to be forgotten. Too vanilla.”

  Something wasn’t right. “You’re not really here,” I said.

  “Neither are you,” he replied.

  The moment he said that, every flower in the field shriveled and sank into the earth. The grass dissolved into grains of rust-colored sand, as though blood had blended with the sand of a golden desert. I felt the strength of the sun’s rays on my back, even though the sun itself was nowhere to be seen.

  I gaped at the innocent young man in front of me. “Is this you?”

  “You abandoned me,” Ben said. “Why?” He wore a pained expression that tore at my heart.

  “No,” I insisted. “I’m trying to save you.”

  “You’re not,” he said, growing angry. “You only want to save yourself.” His face morphed into an even more familiar one. One that I could trace with my finger in the darkness. “You betrayed me.”

  “I didn’t,” I yelled. My voice strained and cracked. “I would never.” I longed to reassure him somehow. Ruffle his hair the way I used to do. But those days were long gone. He was long gone.

  “You never loved me,” he said. Tears streaked his tender cheeks.

  “I did it because I loved you,” I said. “And I would do it again.” I fought back tears. I’d cried enough for one lifetime and I’d chosen a path of puppies and rainbows to compensate for it. I refused to undo my recovery now.

  His feet were now buried in sand. “You don’t deserve any of us,” he spat. “You should spend the rest of your life alone.”

  “That’s the plan,” I said softly. The Eastern Quadrant would be as alone as I could get.

  The lower half of his legs disappeared into the sand and he seemed to register his dire situation. “Help me, Cerys! Help me, please. Absolve yourself.”

  I reached for his arm but it was too late. My hand grabbed only air as the sand sucked him into the ground. “No!” I dropped to my knees, digging furiously to uncover the top of his head. There was no sign of him.

  I pulled myself into a ball and wept.

  “Cerys.” A hand shook me awake. “Cerys, are you okay?”

  “Callan?” I blinked open my eyes. It took me a moment to remember that I wasn’t in my room at the academy. We’d gone back to Callan’s apartment in Terrene after our visit to the Spot and he’d offered his bed to me and slept the couch. The Spot seemed to have drained both of us.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said quietly. “You were screaming and crying. I thought you were in trouble, so I ran in here.”

  “Sorry about that. I’m okay.” I sat up and wiped the sweat from my brow. My T-shirt was drenched, but there was nothing I could do about that. I only hoped he kept the light off so that he couldn’t see more than a silhouette.

  He continued to hover. “Are you sure? You didn’t sound okay.”

  “I had a nightmare. It’s done now.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me. This case would rattle anybody.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that my nightmares started long before Allegheny. “I dreamed about Ben.” It was partly true.

  “The coma kid?”

  I nodded. “It seemed so real. Like he was right there in front of me, asking for help.”

  “And we’re doing everything we can. Whatever ground we’re not covering, Kendall and Mona are on it.”

  An image of Ben’s desperate face flashed in my mind and my heart hammered the inside of my chest. “We need to save him, Callan. We need to help Ben.” My body began to tremble and Callan placed a comforting arm around my shoulders.

  “Hey, it’s okay. That’s the plan. There’s been enough death in my territory recently. Whatever’s happening, I’m going to stop it. I swear it.”

  “We’re going to stop it,” I said.

  In the darkness, I saw the hint of smile. “Yes, we’re going to stop it. We’ll pay a visit to Jenn
ifer later. See if she can tell us anything about what the guys were doing. In the meantime, try to get more sleep. I don’t need to carry around your groggy husk all day.”

  I gave him a light shove and he released me. “You will never have to carry me, Callan. I’m not helpless.”

  “No, but it’s hard to run from danger when you’re asleep.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Are you planning on running from danger later today?”

  He rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. “Only if we’re lucky.”

  “And if we’re unlucky?”

  “Danger catches up.”

  I flopped on my side. “In that case, I’d better sleep at least another hour.”

  “Throw an extra hour on top for beauty rest,” Callan added. “We don’t want to frighten anyone.” He danced out of reach as I attempted to punch his arm.

  “You’re lucky this groggy husk can’t be bothered to get out of bed right now or I’d beat you with the blunt end of my wand.”

  Callan laughed. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Next time,” I said, and closed my eyes.

  Jennifer Ambrose sat behind a desk spooning Greek yogurt with blueberries out of a plastic container. Despite the dark circles under her eyes and the sad expression, I could see the appeal. She was just the right amount of attractive to make her approachable. Not so beautiful or unattractive that men avoided her all together. The happy medium.

  “Do you think she knows?” Callan asked quietly.

  “Are you kidding? Look at her. Of course she knows.”

  He eyed her curiously. “What makes you so sure?”

  Because I’d glimpsed her expression in the mirror enough times to recognize it. “Women's intuition,” I lied, and knocked on the doorjamb. “Excuse me, Jennifer?”

  Her chin jerked up, the spoon still dangling from her mouth. She pulled it out and placed it on a napkin. “Yes?”

  I approached the desk. “My name’s Cerys Davies and this is my partner, Callan Mulroney.”

  As I got closer, I noticed that her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “Are you here about Dan?” she asked.

  “We are,” Callan said. “Mind if we sit down?”