Untouched magic, p.7
Untouched Magic, page 7
They needed me. I reached for Jonathan’s beefy fist. I expected him to pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he slid his fingers between mine and held fast. “I’m going to try and extend the clean air I’ve got,” I said.
I felt magic ripple up my arm as he gave me the support he could. I held out my other hand to Molly. Her palm was gritty against mine as I envisioned my little bubble expanding further to protect them. Molly’s coughing lessened and she was able to breathe again.
My vision blurred as we made our way toward the exit. Jonathan’s hand dropped from mine, but I held fast to Molly. As the open door came into view, a high-pitched whistling filled the air around us. Whether it was a valve about to blow or something else compromised by the fire, I couldn’t see. I just took off at a sprint, dragging Molly along with me.
A violent popping sound followed us out of the bar and something collided with my back, knocking me face first onto the sidewalk. I relinquished my grip on Molly’s hand as I tried to brace myself. I only succeeded in scraping my palms against dirty pavement. A heavy rush of hot hair cascaded over my body as glass from the front doors shattered.
All around me, sirens blared and people shouted. The raucous became unintelligible as my adrenaline faded and the soot and grime caught up to me again. I sensed a presence standing over me and managed to look up into the face of a firefighter, mask already obscuring their face.
“Anyone else in there?” they asked.
“Don’t think so,” I coughed out as I fought to drag myself to my feet. Again.
The crew of firefighters rushed into the building with hoses and moments later I could hear the surge of water feeding through them from the nearby hydrants.
Finally able to get to my feet, I turned to look at the building as it burned. Despite the negative connotations associated with this place and my past, it still hurt to see it in flames.
“Kayla!” Duncan’s voice rang out among the crowd, and I turned to find him racing toward me.
He wrapped me in a fierce embrace, so tight I could barely breathe. It sent me into another coughing fit, and he eased off a moment later. “Come on, you need to be checked over by the paramedics.”
“Jacquie? Avery?” I rasped.
“They’re fine. Helping with crowd control,” he answered and steered me toward a line of ambulances.
“If you’re not careful, someone might think you’re trying to set some new world record,” J.T.’s voice said from behind me.
I pivoted slowly to find him standing beside an empty gurney. “Believe me, I’m really not trying,” I said, my chest tightening as it became more difficult to breathe.
He patted the gurney and helped me lay back. The gurney sat propped at an angle and the exertion sent me into a coughing fit. The world swam before me as my center of balance shifted. I sucked in the fresher air as I tried to fight back nausea and vertigo. J.T. positioned an oxygen mask over my face like he’d done yesterday and eased the gurney into the back of the ambulance.
“You can ride with us.” I heard J.T. address Duncan as the sheer exhaustion of being nearly blown up twice in as many days caught up to me.
“Kayla, you need to stay awake,” J.T. said from my right.
“I feel … weird …” I mumbled before everything went dark.
I couldn’t quite pinpoint what roused me, but when I opened my eyes, I found myself in a private hospital room. I tried to sit all the way up and found myself tangled in wires and tubes. A bevy of machines hummed and clicked beside the bed, monitoring me. I turned to my left, toward the window, to find Duncan slumped over in a chair.
“Hey,” I called, my throat sore.
He sat bolt upright at the sound of my voice and practically launched himself across the room in the same motion. “You passed out in the ambulance.”
“Sorry …” I replied. Swallowing only made the sandpaper feeling in my throat worse.
He handed me a cup of ice water with a straw and I sucked down some of the cool liquid. It soothed my vocal cords and I settled back against the pillows. “How long was I out?” The words were difficult and slow. Or maybe it was just the ache in my head that made it seem like they took an eternity to come from my mouth.
He checked his phone. “It’s almost midnight. We got here maybe an hour and a half ago.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“Can you forget for a second that you are working a case and just acknowledge the fact you nearly died … Twice?”
“I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.”
“As far as we can tell, there were no deaths. Some smoke inhalation and a couple of burns. But we got everyone out.”
I took another few sips of water before managing to push myself up onto pillows. It was only then I realized I was in a hospital gown. In a panic, I groped at my hip for my gun. We might have convened at a bar, but we were working at the time.
“My gun,” I said, my voice ratcheting up an octave.
“Take a breath,” Duncan said.
“Where’s my gun and badge?”
He pointed to a bag on the table beside the chair he’d vacated. “All your stuff is there.”
My heart thudded against my sternum in an erratic rhythm for a moment more before it finally settled down. “Did anyone see how the fire started?”
“Kayla, what did I just say about focusing on you?”
I waved off his concern. “Working makes me feel better.”
“I didn’t see much,” he admitted. “I was more focused on Avery explaining what she’d found.”
“Me, too.” My ears began to ring and I flashed back to that keening sound—t he wards. “Whatever it was it had to be magic based. Jonathan told me that god-awful sound was his wards.”
“I thought those were supposed to stop bad magic?”
“Not exactly. More like a warning, alerts him to what’s going on and he can decide what to do about it.” I set the water down and rubbed at my temples. “I think whatever set off the fire was near the bar proper. I remember it coming from that part of the building.”
“There’s all kinds of things that could have set it off.”
“Like a magic bomb.”
“You think this is related?”
We’d have to wait until the scene was cleared before we could be sure. “It’s as good a theory as any.”
“If it was the same person, this feels like a massive escalation. The others were at least three days apart and done at times there weren’t that many people who could be injured,” Duncan pointed out.
“I know Notre Dame feels like it doesn’t fit, but we still haven’t found a connection between the other two scenes, either.”
“Well, either way, it’s going to be a mess in there for a while.”
“Jonathan is going to be so pissed his place burned down.”
“Damn right I am!” Jonathan’s voice drew my attention.
He stood in the doorway, filling up the space just like I expected he would. His clothes were filthy. He had soot streaks on his forearms and face, but he looked relatively unharmed.
“Shouldn’t you be getting checked out, too?” I noted.
“Mr. Tough Guy here refused medical treatment,” Jacquie said, squeezing in around him. She gave me a smirk. “Don’t worry, J.T.’s agreed to give him the once over before he leaves.”
“I didn’t agree to that,” Jonathan argued.
“If you don’t want me to drag you to a bed and handcuff you to it to make sure you aren’t going to keel over, you will.” Molly’s voice was clear and authoritative.
I couldn’t see her behind Jonathan’s hulking figure. But just hearing her voice eased the nerves that had been tightening my stomach into knots. It meant she was alive, and we’d all made it out. Jonathan and Jacquie each took a few more steps into the room and I stared at the empty hallway behind them.
Where’d she go?
“What are you looking at?” Molly’s disembodied voice came from the direction of the doorway.
“Uh, not to sound alarmist, but is anyone else hearing this?” Duncan’s voice came out strained.
“I’m hearing it, but I’m not seeing it,” Jacquie said in a hushed tone.
Jonathan turned and his brow knit together. “How in the hell …” He trailed off as he studied the empty space in front of him. With a determined look in his eyes, he waved a hand in front of him, like he was dispersing smoke. I felt the air pressure shift around me, making my ears pop. I winced, my eyes scrunching shut in an involuntary reflex. Between one blink and the next, Molly appeared. She was as grimy as the rest of us, but she had an aura around her. She looked just as confused as the rest of us.
What the actual fuck was going on?
November 17, 2019
Nine
“Can someone please tell me what is going on?” Molly demanded.
“Boss, you were invisible,” Duncan said bluntly.
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Molly, you were,” Jonathan confirmed.
This didn’t make sense. The thrum of the machinery around me grew more pronounced and my head ached in time to the beeping and clicking. I turned my focus inward, trying to call up my magic to ease the pain.
Nothing happened.
I tried harder. Kick this headache. No scent of chamomile. No surge of energy through my body. I looked down at my hands, willing them to turn invisible against the coarse hospital blankets. Except the dirty pale flesh remained perfectly visible.
“Kayla, what’s going on?” Jacquie’s voice was soft.
I looked up through thick, unshed tears. “Something’s wrong with my magic. I can’t feel it anymore.”
The room fell eerily silent at my words and in short order, Molly and Duncan had descended upon me. “Maybe you’re just worn out from everything that’s happened?” Duncan suggested.
I shook my head, the tears falling down my cheeks. “It’s not exhaustion or the smoke. It’s gone.”
“I’d ask how that’s possible, except we know it’s been done before,” Molly said.
Two years ago, the Order had stolen magic from the Authority’s Council. They’d stripped magic from entire bloodlines. Ezri had been able to save some of them, but not all. I hadn’t been involved in that case, but I remembered the turmoil the Order had caused.
“But I remember everything that happened tonight. Didn’t the people who were attacked not have any memory of what happened?” I countered.
“I’m not saying it is the exact same situation,” Molly replied.
Across the room, Jonathan stood, staring intently at Molly. Her attention was on me, so she didn’t notice. “What is it? What are you seeing?”
He turned his gaze to me. “She’s got an aura and it’s not fading.”
“What does that mean?” Duncan interjected.
“No idea,” Jonathan replied. “But there is definitely something off.”
There were so many questions swirling in my brain as I lay there in the bed. Who could have taken my magic? Was this actually connected to the case? What does Jonathan know if it was in fact linked? And how had Molly turned invisible?
There were too many to try to answer at nearly twelve thirty in the morning. And just then, a nurse walked in, giving everyone, but me a disapproving glare. “Visiting hours are long over.”
“They can stay,” I said.
“You need to rest,” she retorted.
“We could all use some sleep. We’ll be back in a few hours,” Jacquie said, forcibly grabbing Duncan’s arm to guide him around the foot of the bed and toward the door. She eyed Jonathan. “You’re going to see our mutual friend. I’ll drive you.”
Molly looped an arm through his and tugged him along. He didn’t protest; instead, he followed silently behind Jacquie and Duncan. The nurse busied herself with checking my vitals.
“You know, I saw your chart. You were just here yesterday for similar injuries,” she noted.
“Hazard of the job,” I replied.
“Well this time, we’re going to be keeping you for a bit. The doctor wants to monitor you and put in an order for something to help you sleep if you want it.”
“Sure.”
She nodded and wheeled the vitals machine out into the hallway before disappearing from view. She returned a few minutes later with a syringe that she inserted into the IV taped to my left hand. I tried to get comfortable amongst all of the wiring and waited for the drug to take effect. I could only hope for more clarity when I woke up.
The nursing staff must have checked on me in the early hours of the morning, but I had no recollection of their visits. When I did finally pull myself from the soothing lull of the sleep medication, I felt more alert and in less pain, than when I had since Friday afternoon.
I’d just managed to make a trip to the bathroom when a sharp knock at the door signaled I had a visitor. A white coated doctor with a shaggy mop of dark brown curls walked in.
“Miss Rogers?”
“It’s Agent.”
“Forgive me. Maybe we should just go by first names?” he suggested. “I’m Simon.”
“Kayla,” I responded automatically before realizing he probably already knew that.
“How are you feeling, Kayla?”
“Better. Except I could use a shower.”
“Glad to hear it. Could you tell me how you managed to get out of that building without any burns?”
“Just lucky I guess.” In my mind’s eye, I saw the ceiling beam come crashing down mere inches from where I’d stood. Apparently, the spell had worked as a buffer to keep from serious injury.
“It also wasn’t the first fire you were found at recently. Anything I should know?”
I didn’t like his tone. “I work for the FBI and on an active case. That’s all I can say.”
“I see.” He studied something on the chart in his hands. “Well, while I’d love to keep you longer, I have a feeling you aren’t going to stay put.”
“I’ve got work to do.”
“Do me a favor? When your case is done, check in with your primary care doctor. Just to be sure there’s no lasting effects from your injuries.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. I’d like to see you get some more fluids in you and something to eat. And once you’ve had breakfast, I’ll make sure you get discharged.”
“Thanks.”
He gave me a nod and turned on his heel, leaving me standing by the bed. I shivered as I remembered I wasn’t wearing pants and went rummaging through the bag on the table. I pulled out the pants and coughed at the scent of smoke that clung to the fabric. No way I was wearing them.
“Knock, knock.” Perris’ voice drew my attention. She stood in the doorway with a change of clothes slung over her arm. “I leave you alone for five minutes and you get yourself caught in a fire … again.”
“To be fair, I wasn’t planning it,” I said and hurried as quickly as the IV and wiring would let me to snatch the clothes from her outstretched arms.
“What’s going on?”
I glanced at her as I tugged on the clean clothes. “Uh, we’re working on what appears to be a serial arson case. Well, homemade magic bombs actually.”
“You have all the fun, don’t you?”
“It would be more fun if I had some idea of who was behind it or their motive.”
“You’ve got a good team behind you. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
As she looked at me full of confidence, I couldn’t help but grow teary. She was at my side in an instant, guiding me to a chair. “Did I say something?”
“No, it’s just, things have gotten complicated. After the fire last night at Notre Dame, my magic is gone.”
“Is that a thing?”
“Yes. I don’t know how exactly, but after the first explosion two days ago, my power was shoddy … intermittent at best. Now it’s just vanished.”
“Maybe it’s a temporary side effect of the trauma?”
“I honestly don’t know. And that’s the part that scares me.”
“I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”
The door to the room swung inward and a nurse appeared carrying discharge paperwork. “Well if you don’t mind, I could use a ride back to my place and then to FBI headquarters.”
“You got it.”
Ten minutes later, I followed Perri to her car in the visitor lot. It was a mercifully short trip back to my apartment where I hopped in the shower and let the warm water cleanse away the grime and smell of the fire. When I emerged, Perri loitered in my living room, her phone pressed to one ear.
“I’ll let her know.”
“Who was that?” I prodded.
“Duncan. He’s going to come by and grab you. He said there’s a lead on the HVAC company. I assume you know what that means.”
I grinned. “I do.”
“Oh, before you go, I ought to return this,” Perri said, holding out the extra key I’d given her. It explained the fresh clothes.
I waved her off. “Keep it. You never know when you might be back up this way.”
She pocketed the key before we left the apartment behind. I found Duncan waiting in his car at the curb and climbed into the passenger seat.
“How are you doing?” he asked as he pulled into the flow of cars.
“I’d be better if people stop asking me that.”
“Got it.”
“Perri said you got a lead on the HVAC company.”
“We did. Turns out the same one serviced both the restaurant and the massage parlor.”
“You really think they’re open on a Sunday?”
“I may have called the owner and advised it was in his best interest to meet us at their office.”
“And what about Jacquie and Molly?”
Duncan fell silent for a long time. His knuckles grew paler as he clutched the steering wheel in a vice grip. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Molly turning invisible at the hospital isn’t the only thing that’s happened. She, uh, made something levitate after we left. J.T.’s been with her for the last couple hours and he thinks—”
“Just tell me.”
