That cold block of power sat in my stomach, squashing the power I understood. I needed to figure this out, and now, before I faced off with the demon.
I ran over the list of passed-down powers that seemed to have skipped me. My father had been able to pluck secrets out of my mother’s head, but she’d worked out a spell to keep her thoughts to herself. That had tickled him. I was stronger and faster than normal humans, like him, and I could sense magic, also like him, but he could smell where someone had been previously. I couldn’t do that. At all. Then there was the whole “moving things with the mind” thing. I didn’t remember my mother ever mentioning my dad doing that, but I bet he could.
My father had levitated often, sometimes carrying my mom in his arms as he drifted through the air. She’d loved doing that, and apparently, he’d done almost anything to make her smile. But he’d never divulged the difference in the various powers he used. Or maybe she just hadn’t thought to ask.
Whatever the reason, I could do almost half of what my dad could do, and this demon represented the half I didn’t have much access to. I was at a severe disadvantage, since the cold magic it called forth banked the power I could control, leaving me defenseless.
I shook my head. My bad luck, as always.
Pulling in a deep breath, I took out my sword, filled with my fire magic. Now struggling, I focused on my fire magic, fighting to bring it to the surface. I gasped as I felt the two powers swirl around each other, coexisting but not blending. I had no idea if that was right or wrong.
“Here we go,” I said, ignoring one of the cops when she asked why I was getting ready to stab the wall with a sword.
Edging closer, I felt that throb, beating in time to the cold power within me. The spell was amplified by the demon’s magic, dull yet vicious. I closed my eyes, focusing on the currents as they teased my senses. Getting a feel for what the spell was supposed to do. Another moment, and the intricacies of the spell revealed themselves to me.
It wasn’t what I’d expected.
The spell would explode in a rush of frost. Usually it would be a blast of heat, but the demon’s power had turned it wintry. So a smack of cold to the face that would result in temporary frostbite for exposed human skin.
They had dumped the body in clear view, ensuring it would be found immediately, decorated the crime scene with plenty of “evidence” for the police to fret over, and left a useless spell just out of the way so it wouldn’t easily be disturbed, but would be noticed by the magical person who had been sent to analyze the crime scene.
“Shiznit,” I said, backing away as a pattern emerged. I turned slowly toward the mouth of the alley where that cop still stood sentinel. “They’re trying to keep me here.”
“What?” Oscar asked, walking closer.
I put a hand out to keep him away. “They lured me here with the intent of keeping me busy.”
“Why you?”
“Because I’m the one working the case and trying to find them.” I took a few quick steps back down the alley and sliced through the spell. The magic opened up in a void, a maw of cold, potent power that raised my small hairs. It attached itself to me, like little suction cups spreading across my skin.
Fear shot through me. I hadn’t expected that little number hiding within the spell. Or maybe this was the normal effect of the demon’s magic. Whatever it was, it was not good.
My heart sped up and a sheen of fire rolled over my skin, weak because of the other power but thankfully still effective. Bye-bye, magical suction cups.
“What the—” Oscar half fell over himself in his eagerness to back up.
“Do you feel the suction on your…” I let the words trail away as I realized his eyes were glued to my exposed skin. He’d seen the fire. “Ah. Yeah, that. That was a spell. An experimental one that my cousin created. The Canadian cousin. Haven’t I told you about him? Anyway, don’t worry about it. It’s illegal.”
I grimaced and walked by him. I would need to disappear for a while after this. I was getting careless where my power was concerned. Also, there were too many demons and vampires in my life. That needed to stop.
Oscar yelled something after me, but I didn’t catch it. I turned toward him and made my way back to the mouth of the alleyway. When I reached it, the cold power started throbbing in my middle again, increasing in potency, pushing my useable power even more.
“Not good,” I mumbled, ducking out from under the tape. I put my hand on the sentinel cop, who jerked but didn’t entirely move away. I’d startled him. “Keep your wits about you. Things aren’t as they seem.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“Reagan,” Oscar said, catching up. “Where are you going?”
“I was lured here for a reason, detective,” I said. “I best find out what that reason is.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The crowd had increased as the day turned old. Shadows stretched across the street and made countless puddles of black. Someone to my right, an older woman with a canvas bag slowed her already slow pace. Her head swung toward me, and even from the distance, I noticed the inhuman glitter of her eyes.
The canvas bag fell to the ground.
A male teenager stepped out of the crowd and into the street, right in front of a car. Brakes squealed. The car careened. The teen didn’t notice; he only had eyes for me.
As the old woman and teen both started my way, two more people in the crowd shifted in a creepy way, their shoulders suddenly straightening as they turned toward me and started moving steadily, though at half speed. They pushed their way forward, knocking people out of their way like tanks. Down the street, someone screamed. I could barely see a person fall to the ground. Someone else descended on the fallen, fists lashing at the person.
The sentinel cop jerked, having seen it too. His hand went to his gun, but he didn’t start forward. I wasn’t sure why.
The teen started to run at me, a strange glint in his eyes, a wide smile on his face. He swooped down next to one of the cop cars and picked a hammer up off the ground, barely breaking stride.
“What the hell is a hammer doing just willy-nilly behind the cop car?” I demanded.
The sentinel cop didn’t have time to answer me.
“Freeze,” he shouted, taking out his gun. “Put down the hammer. Freeze!”
I stepped into the path of the gun, ran forward, and ducked under the swing of the hammer. The kid’s speed hadn’t increased as a result of whatever spell or magic had infused him. I rammed a punch into his stomach, brought that elbow across his jaw, and then grabbed his hammer arm and knocked his wrist with the hilt of my sword. His fist relaxed, dropping the hammer. I had probably cracked his bone, but he didn’t cry out. I gave him a solid punch to the nose, knocking him out cold.