Missing Magic Read online

  He could have been a movie star, or romance novel cover model, with his thick hair, hair so dark it was almost black, tumbling all the way to his shoulders. On some men, this might signal trouble, but on him it looked… just right.

  The rest of him was just right as well. His physique was amazing. At the gym she’d seen men work for years trying to obtain such a build. He had broad, muscular shoulders, a narrow waist with, she was willing to bet, a set of pecs and abs that would make a champion bodybuilder jealous.

  Not to discount his face. Good Lord, no. His gorgeous high cheekbones, ruggedly chiseled features, and amazing eyes the color of molten chocolate made him so beautiful that looking at him almost hurt.

  Almost.

  She sighed as the elevator doors slowly opened. Yep, Cenrick of Rune was absolutely mouth-watering. If, she amended hastily to herself, one was in the market for a man. Which she wasn’t.

  Hastily, she averted her eyes.

  “Something wrong?” he asked, stepped aside to let her exit first.

  “Nope.” Pushing past him, she cleared her throat, slightly embarrassed to be caught looking, and gave him her best detached look. The frozen, don’t mess with me stare she’d spent years perfecting in foster home after foster home. Girls that looked like her, even when she was still a child, learned quickly how awful men could be. Only around Mick was she able to relax. And later, Peter, who’d teased and joked his way past her defenses.

  The Ice Princess, they called her around the precinct. Dee had always been proud of her ice princess moniker. Hell, being aloof was the only way an attractive woman could make it in law enforcement, or any male-dominated career, for that matter.

  All her life she’d had to play down her looks. She’d taken care to ensure that words like Barbie Doll and advancement-by-couch were never applied to her. Though her blonde hair was thick and healthy, she kept it cut short, wearing it tucked neatly behind her ears. She chose loose, non-descript clothing to hide her admittedly curvy figure, and saved the dangly earrings and heels for out-of-town weekends with Peter, the man she’d thought loved her.

  Obviously, she’d been fooling herself. Both about Peter and her job. And about Mick, her pretend-brother.

  She forced her thoughts back on track. Mick and her job – two monumental problems, somehow intertwined. Though she’d become a cop because of Mick, she’d always given her job one hundred and ten percent. She was a good, no, an excellent cop, and all the guys respected her.

  Or, they had respected her. Now the taint of false accusations would flush her career right down the toilet, unless she could clear her name. Odd how the word of a known prostitute was enough to make the department open an investigation. The hooker had accused Dee of roughing her up and demanding a cut of her income. Dee barely even remembered the last time she’d arrested the woman. The lies were no doubt part of some elaborate scheme to get even.

  When the first instance occurred, her direct supervisor, Lieutenant Cowell, had told her the suspension was only a formality.

  “Of course we have to open an investigation. You know the drill. Take a few days off, let Internal Affairs look into it, and this will all be over before you know it.”

  She’d believed him. After all, Dee was an honest cop. She’d never done anything even skirting the borders of unethical in her life.

  Taken her boss’s advice, Dee had gone shopping the first day of her paid suspension. She imagined she’d be back at work by the end of the week.

  Then a second civilian came forward. This time, his accusations were harder to dismiss. A respected business owner, his coffee shop was near her patrol area. His accusations of Dee demanding protection money were so ludicrous, she couldn’t believe anyone would take them seriously.

  Unfortunately, the police department had no choice.

  This time, Lieutenant Cowell had referred Dee’s questions to Internal Affairs. Police Chief Ferguson had left a message on her machine, asking her to avoid the press until the situation was resolved.

  She supposed she could count herself lucky they hadn’t made her turn in her badge or her service revolver. Yet. Everyone knew once that happened, your career was over.

  Still… it wasn’t as if she ever could ever regain her old standing in the department. These types of accusations, even once disproved, could hang over a cop’s head forever.

  Her neatly ordered world had been turned upside down. None of this made any sense. Sometimes she found herself wondering if she’d inadvertently stepped into an old episode of the Twilight Zone. She even caught herself looking around corners, half expecting Ashton Kucher to jump out and yell “Punked!”

  In short, she wanted to wake up from this bad dream.

  She glanced at Cenrick, who appeared lost in his own thoughts. Instead, things had gotten even more surreal. Now she had to deal with alternate realities, a Fae prince, and the knowledge that a horrible, atrocious act had been committed against his people. Possibly by her Mick, her best friend.

  Keeping ahead of Cenrick, Dee pushed through the double glass doors feeling like a one woman cyclone. She hated this unfocused feeling. As a cop, she was used to taking action.

  “One dead end.” Cenrick’s slightly accented statement made her start.

  “True.” She wiped her suddenly damp palms on her jeans. They reached her car and she pressed the key fob, unlocking the doors. “So we’ve got to think of something else.”

  Sliding in the car beside her, Cenrick nodded. “Any thoughts?”

  “Not yet.” She forced a smile, turning the key in the ignition. “I’m thinking we should circle back and check out the house. Maybe do a stake out.”

  “Stake out?” .

  “Watch the place, without Mick and his new friends knowing. Maybe they’ll leave him alone long enough for one of us to get in and talk to him.”

  “Sounds good.” He rewarded her with another one of his breath-stealing smiles. “Let’s go.”

  She drove the speed limit, taking care not to break any laws. The last thing they needed was for one of her former co-workers to pull them over.

  “Look.” Cenrick pointed at the horizon in the general direction of Mick’s place. “What’s that?”

  A soft glow lit up the sky.

  Damned if she knew. Light like that usually meant spotlights and crowds. If there’d been smoke, she’d have suspected a fire.

  She pushed the accelerator harder, gradually picking up speed.

  When they reached the end of the Mick’s block, she pulled to the curb. Though they were still four houses down the street, Mick’s place appeared lit up from within, lit up so brightly it positively glowed. A quick check assured her there were no spotlights, or exterior lighting of any kind.

  “What the—?” She pressed on the accelerator, moving forward, one hand on the butt of her gun. The weapon felt wrong, the size and weight of it different than she was used to. But that was because she was carrying her personal gun rather than her service revolver.

  “Hey, what are you doing? We don’t want to attract their attention.” Cenrick’s husky voice brought her back to reality. Even though her adrenaline was high and her heart was pumping, she wasn’t a cop, not right now. She couldn’t just pull up in front with a squeal of tires and barge in there with her weapon drawn.

  No crime had been committed. No one had called for help. Even if they had, some other uniform would have to answer. Dee was suspended. She had no right.

  She eased off the gas pedal.

  “Sorry. Habit.” She flashed Cenrick a quick, sheepish smile, deliberately unclenching her fingers from the steering wheel. “You’re right. We’ll drive by slowly and then circle the block.”

  As they passed in front of Mick’s, the brightness was almost blinding.

  “Don’t you think the neighbors would notice?” Even once she’d turned the corner, Dee could still see the light in her rearview mirror.

  “Not if it’s only visible to those attuned to magic.”

&
nbsp; She felt obliged to point out that she could see it. “And I’m quite possibly the least whimsical person you’ll ever meet.”

  “You’ve been to Rune, using magic to travel across the veil. That alone may have made you attuned to magical vibrations.”

  Dee shrugged. “Whatever.”

  As they turned onto the street again, she pulled over to the curb and parked, killing the ignition.

  “What are you doing?” Leaning forward, Cenrick squinted through the window towards the glow. “We’re too far away to see anything in detail.”

  “This is as close as we can get. That’s the point of a stake-out – to observe without being noticed. If I park across the street, they’re bound to notice two people sitting in this car. Either they’ll investigate, or call the cops.”

  “They wouldn’t call the cops.” Cenrick sounded positive.

  She supposed he was right. Criminals never wanted the law around. “Either way, anything that attracts attention to us will ruin this. I don’t see any other option.” With a sigh, she settled back in her seat, trying to make herself comfortable. Unlike television, real-life stakeouts were frequently long and boring.

  “I think we should leave the car here. We’ll go on foot and just stroll by the place, as though we’re neighbors taking our evening walk.”

  “Won’t work.” She shook her head. “If Mick sees me, he’ll know damn good and well I don’t live in this area.”

  “You can always be trying to visit him. You would, if things were normal.” He gave her a grim smile.

  “He told me to stay away.”

  “Normally, would that stop you? Besides that, do you have a better idea?”

  He had a point. A damn good one.

  “We can try it,” she said grudgingly, one hand already on the door handle. “If blondie is watching, there won’t be a problem. I don’t know her. I’ve never met the other man either.”

  Cenrick took her arm, making her jump.

  He noticed. “Part of the camouflage. We need to look like an old married couple.”

  She didn’t bother to point out that most old married couples rarely touched.

  The first pass was unremarkable, other than the way the house appeared. If she’d had a poetic bone in her body, she’d have said it looked otherworldly, like an intergalactic UFO about to blast off.

  They managed a nonchalant saunter to the stop sign, crossing the street to continue down the other side. From there, they had an unobstructed view of Mick’s house.

  Other than the neon yellow glow, the house looked unremarkable. Nothing stirred, no breeze, no curtains, not even a bird sang or a single squirrel scampered up one of the oaks that ringed the lawn. The same vehicle, combination SUV and truck, was parked in front of the garage. She saw no sign of Mick’s Ford Explorer. She dug in her pocket, located a scrap of paper,

  “Even the insects avoid the place.” He pointed at the house next door. It had the front porch light on, drawing a small cloud of moths and assorted other small, flying insects. Mick’s house, illuminated a hundred times brighter, was completely a bug-free zone.

  “Strange,” Cenrick murmured, as though speaking to himself. “What kind of magic could do this?”

  “Or machine.” She felt obliged to point out that magic wasn’t behind everything. “I still think the glow comes from some sort of machine.”

  “Machines and magic don’t mix. Whoever is harming Fae is stealing their magic. I doubt any man-made machine could do that.”

  She didn’t, but saw no reason to tell him so. Not without proof. If machines such as CT scanners and MRI’s could exist, who could say someone hadn’t invented a magic-stealing machine?

  Someone evil.

  “One more pass.”

  As they turned to head back, another car pulled up, in front of the house.

  Two men got out.

  “Not men,” Cenrick said, as though he’d read her mind. “Fae. I can see their auras, though they’re weak.”

  Not wanting to be noticed, Cenrick and Dee slowed their pace to a virtual shuffle, though they had to keep moving.

  The two visitors didn’t even glance at them. Instead, they walked up the flower-trimmed sidewalk towards the house. No, walked didn’t even begin to describe the way they moved. They marched, moving stiffly, like Ken dolls provided with bendable legs.

  Something, some sound or intuition, drew their attention. They froze, swiveling their heads to look at Dee and Cenrick.

  Now Dee got a good look at them. Her skin crawled as she realized what had happened to them. Oh, they were beautiful, to be sure. Much more up Mick’s alley than the blonde, sharp-faced woman. But they looked like poor imitations of men – or Fae – empty of spark, empty of life.

  They looked like robots.

  They were well on their way to becoming one of the soulless.

  Dee made a strangled sound.

  Cenrick growled, low in his throat.

  After the one disinterested look, the men continued forward. The front door opened as they approached. Even brighter light spilled out, illuminating the sidewalk like some giant, malevolent spotlight. Looking neither left nor right, the two stepped inside.

  When the door closed behind them, Cenrick cursed. “Did you see that? They’re becoming soulless.”

  “I know.” Dee answered truthfully. “However and whatever, the process has already begun.”

  “Lothar’s plains!” His arm tensed under her hand and a muscle worked in his jaw. “But how? How is this being done?”

  “And why? It’s Mick’s house.” Though she hated to admit it, she’d never been one to lie to herself. “Mick’s involved, somehow. After growing up longing for a family of his own, I can’t believe he’d harm his own people.”

  “After all you’ve seen, do you still doubt?”

  “I’ve been working in law enforcement. It’s my job to question. It’s entirely possible that Mick’s under their spell, you know. He might be in trouble too.”

  Cenrick opened his mouth. Just then, the glow vanished. Mick’s house went dark.

  Chapter Five

  CENRICK LOOKED at Dee. She stared back. Then they both turned to Mick’s house, which sat silent and dark, as if a giant switch had been flicked to cut off the glow. Black, but not empty. He could have sworn the blackness pulsed.

  He shuddered. Though he didn’t like to remember, he’d seen this utter and absolute darkness once before, when helping Alrick fight the Warlord from the future.

  The shadows around Mick’s house danced and swirled and breathed. Evil was at work here. This darkness signified more than a mere absence of light. Cenrick sensed the absence of magic as well. While his mind screamed not possible, the scholar in him couldn’t help but wonder how this could be.

  Everything that lived had some small particle of magic. Even in the human world traces of magic remained in every living thing, from the smallest blade of grass to the tallest, towering oak.

  But now, in the swirling black air around Mick’s house, there was none. No magic. Nothing. Only a complete and utter void, as though someone – or something – had sucked all the magic from the immediate universe surrounding the house.

  If this was true, Mick must be dead. Or worse, one of the Soulless.

  Intrigued and puzzled, Cenrick moved away from Dee, towards the house. Immediately, he fell to his knees as wave after wave of negative energy swamped him, sapping his strength.

  “Cenrick?”

  He could only point towards the house, praying she’d understand.

  She crossed to his side. “Take my hand.” Touching his hand, she threaded her fingers through his.

  Right away, he felt better. Protected. Her touch restored his strength, allowing him to climb to his feet. Her touch.

  How was this possible?

  Experimentally, he pulled free. Instantly, everything went blurry as the thing – whatever it was – hammered at him.

  Again he grabbed her hand, holding on as though
she was a lifeline.

  In a way, she was.

  “Your touch…” He lifted his head. “Helps me.”

  “Let’s get out of here.” Dee moved quickly. One arm under his, supporting him, she helped him get back to her car. With fumbling urgency, they got the passenger door open and, without him touching any metal, he dropped himself into the seat.

  Without another word, she cranked the engine, slammed the car into drive, and took off.

  He felt better as soon as they turned the corner. Better still by the time they reached the main road. One stark truth stood out – anywhere near Mick’s house was extremely dangerous for him.

  Except, he shot her a glance, when Dee touched him. Somehow, she blunted the effects of the magic-stealer.

  He didn’t understand how such a thing was possible.

  “Are you going to live?” she asked. Something, some catch in her voice, made him turn to face her. The streetlights illuminated her delicate features and lush figure and suddenly, he wanted her.

  What the hell? This was wrong. More than wrong, completely bad timing. They were partners, co-workers in a way. She’d freak if she saw his arousal.

  No. He could control this, would control it. He’d survived a magic-stealing attack. He’d channeled the rush of adrenaline to desire. Very natural and normal and, now that he understood, easy to control.

  He hoped.

  Analyzing the why and how didn’t change the way he felt.

  Still, he wanted her. Badly.

  “Yeah,” he managed. “I’m okay.” His swollen body pulsed, despite his attempts to think of something else.

  “I’m not,” she said, her voice shaky. She pulled into a deserted parking lot, driving around the back of the closed store, and parking.

  He tried to concentrate on the fact that she’d left the engine running, but all he could think about was how badly he wanted to touch her.

  The seat creaked as she swiveled to face him.

  “What is this?” Her eyes widened, pupils dark, and he knew she felt the same, overpowering need. “What’s happening to me?”