A Criminal Magic

“Holy smokes,” Ben gasps. “Pop could never manage that in a million years.”


I wipe away the small beads of sweat that have collected along my hairline. “I’ve just been practicing.”

“She’s being humble,” Gunn says evenly. “I’ve seen a lot of sorcerers in my line of work, have searched for the strongest and the best. Your cousin is a rare breed.”

A thick lump forms at the base of my throat. This time I manage to answer, “Thank you, Mr. Gunn.”

“You should really see this place when it’s open during a performance,” Gunn says to Ben and Ruby in this secretive little voice, like they’re old pals. He studies my dove, now perched in the rafters. “It’s unlike anything you’ve ever imagined.”

“I can’t believe we’re really here,” Ben says dreamily. “Thank you, Mr. Gunn. I hope I get to stay long enough to see one of your performances.”

Gunn throws a look my way. “Well, we’re working on something major right now, but when it’s over, the Den will be open again, and I always need good stagehands.”

Ben, in this world, working under this roof? Not on your life. “Mr. Gunn—”

“It’s a low-level job, I know,” Gunn talks over me, “but if you prove yourself, Ben, you’ll work your way up, just like your cousin. I’m a firm believer in rewarding those who deserve it.” Gunn shoots another glance at me. “And keeping good people once I find them.”

Another veiled threat, another two-sided message, like a double-sided trick.

I’ve been attached to Gunn pretty much morning through night this past week, trying to ensure his deal with Colletto goes down without a hitch. I need time away from him, with just my family. I need to remember who it’s all for.

I glance pointedly at the clock. “It’s almost ten, sir, and they’ve had a long day. Think it’s time we all turned in.”

“Aw, not yet, Joan, one more trick. Please?” Ruby cries.

Ben laughs. “I’m with Ruby.”

Gunn stares at me for a while. “Come on, Joan knows best,” he tells Ruby. “We’ve got plenty of time for tricks.”

The four of us cross the show space together, walk down the hallway to the back stairs that lead to my room. Gunn stops in front of his office. “You want a nightcap?” he asks Ben suddenly. “Maybe a shot of shine, to chase away the day’s cobwebs?”

As Ben’s eyes grow wide as saucers, I cut in with, “He’s fine, Mr. Gunn, thank you. Again, it’s been a long day.”

“Some other time then.” Gunn opens the door to his office, throws me a triumphant look. “Good night.”

“Good night, Mr. Gunn,” Ruby and Ben say in unison.

When we get into my room, I immediately push Ben and Ruby back from the door and focus on its wooden frame. I hold out my hand, and the door’s wood crackles. The frame begins to disappear, the white wood bleeding into the plaster of the wall—and then there’s only one thick sheet of white in front of us, studded with the doorknob.

“Did you just lock us in?” Ben says.

“I don’t want you going downstairs, and I don’t want Gunn coming up.” I rustle through my bureau, pull out Ruby’s sole pair of pajamas. “This place isn’t safe. He isn’t safe.”

“You know, I don’t get you,” Ben says. “I know you’ve made your own way here, but Gunn’s the one who gave you the chance. He practically saved us. Besides, he’s treating us like royalty. Treats you like a queen.”

“Well, appearances can be deceiving, Ben.” I kneel down and help Ruby into her pajamas. “He’s dangerous. If you don’t see that, you’re a fool.”

“I’d rather be a fool than paranoid and ungrateful.”

“And just who’s being ungrateful here?” I snap, before I can stop myself.

Ruby worms her little arms through her pajamas. “We don’t have to leave, do we, Joan?” she whispers. “I don’t want to leave you again.”

I sigh, collect myself. The last thing I want is them thinking they’re a burden being around. “I don’t want you to leave either.” I ruffle the top of Ruby’s hair, then steal a glance back at Ben. “But Gunn is not what he seems, all right? I need you to remember that. I need you to be careful, keep your head about you—don’t go getting all mixed up with magic and shine so you forget where we came from, and who we are.”

“Like you have?” Ben says softly as he plays with the edges of my cotton sheets.

His words cut right through me. “Excuse me?”

He closes his eyes and lies back on the bed. “Parsonage was as much a prison for me as it had been for you, Joan. I never want to go back. I want what you have, I want a new start.”

I can’t fault him for that, can I? “Then you get a real job, outside of this hellhole. There’s plenty of honest places to work up here in DC, plenty of opportunity.”

“For someone who’s worked in a shining room since he was nine?” Ben says. “If this place is good enough for you, it’s good enough for me.”

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