Death Magic (22 page)

Read Death Magic Online

Authors: Eileen Wilks

“Damn.” Rule’s lips tightened. “That moves it from ‘maybe’ to ‘almost certainly.’”
He referred to their suspicion that the hate group knew where the main clanhomes were in the United States—and intended to make them known to the public. Nokolai’s clanhome was already widely known, of course, but the others weren’t. At first they’d hoped that planned demonstrations in San Diego and Albuquerque was coincidence. Though there were clanhomes near those cities, there were none near the other places where rallies would be held. But Albany was only about eighty miles from Wythe Clanhome. Adding it to the mix suggested intent, not coincidence.
“I’m afraid so.” Ruben stood. “Rule, you can’t discuss our plans with Lily, but I won’t ask you to keep this visit from her unless you feel it’s necessary.”
Rule hesitated. “I think she suspects I’ll communicate with you, but would rather not have her nose rubbed in it.”
Ruben nodded. “How do you think she’s dealing with my revelations from Saturday? She seemed to accept the need for the Shadow Unit, but that’s several steps away from joining us.”
“I wish I could say I was optimistic, but understanding why we’ve chosen to act outside the law isn’t the same as doing so herself. It’s not like bending a regulation or overlooking a minor crime in order to prevent a major one. We’re asking her to give her allegiance to something other than the law.”
“To something in addition to the law.”
“I’m not sure she can see it that way.”
“I’ll continue to hope you’re wrong.”
So would he. Because he hated keeping secrets from his
nadia
, yes, but also because Ruben said they needed Lily. Needed her to go beyond tolerating the existence of the ghosts. Needed her to be one of them. This certainty came from Ruben’s visions, though Rule didn’t know the details. When asked, Ruben waved a vague hand and said sometimes disclosure altered the course of events. He also said they had to at all costs avoid putting too much pressure on Lily, that she had to come to this commitment on her own.
Ruben Brooks didn’t use language carelessly. When he said “at all costs,” that was what he meant. So Rule couldn’t tell Lily that unless she joined the Shadow Unit, the chances were excellent that over half the lupi in the country would be dead within three months.
FIFTEEN
 
 
DENNIS
Parrott lived up to his name—lots of pretty feathers, and now and then something he said was actually pertinent. He was in his early fifties but looked younger—a slim man with a narrow face, perfect haircut, rimless glasses, pleasant voice, pleasant smile. Interviewing him was like talking to a magazine ad.
Glossy, Rule had called him. So far Lily hadn’t gotten so much as a peek beneath the polish. “But you don’t know anything about any of those crank letters the senator received.”
“I’m sorry, no. We never discussed that sort of thing. But you have copies, you said.”
“Of those that were turned over to the Secret Service, yes. There could be more.”
“You’d need to ask Nan about that. I’m afraid this is all the time I can give you today, but Nan will have passed on my request that the staff cooperate with you fully.”
Nan was Nanette Beresford, the senator’s secretary, a handsome older woman with a thick drawl and the proverbial steel-trap mind. She was arranging for Lily and Mullins to use a small conference room to question staffers.
“Just one more question.” Mullins smiled vacuously at the glossy Parrott. “Won’t take but a moment. I know you’re busy—very important job, and with the senator’s passing, you must be buried in work as well as grieving the loss of a friend. I really appreciate the time you’ve given us.”
“Of course.” The pleasant smile made a brief appearance on Parrott’s thin face. “I’m very eager for you to catch whoever did this terrible thing. But we do have to make it quick.”
Mullins had seriously surprised Lily. As they rode up in the elevator to see Parrott, he’d transformed into a snub-nosed Colombo with a whiff of Andy Griffith. The funny thing was, he was good at it. His bashful, bumbling version of a TV detective set Parrott at ease.
“I just wondered . . . couldn’t help wondering, really, it’s the way this job gets you thinking, you pick up on any little discrepancy, even though it’s probably meaningless. When we were talking about the senator’s work, his campaign against the misuse of magic, you said you weren’t Gifted yourself. I wondered why you said that.”
“Because I’m not.”
Mullins looked confused. He glanced at Lily. “But you gave me the sign—when we all shook hands, you signaled that he . . . but he says he isn’t.”
“A minor Gift, I think,” she said, “though the charm he’s wearing to conceal it does a pretty good job, so he might have more power than I think. A Water Gift, I believe. Isn’t that right, Mr. Parrott?”
No smile now, and at last Lily got that peek beneath the surface. Way down deep in those pleasant brown eyes lurked a predator who was not happy with Lily. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She shook her head sadly. “That’s not going to work. Sometimes people don’t know they have a touch of magic. When it’s not a strong Gift, it’s not that hard to suppress without knowing you’re doing it. But people who are unaware of their Gift don’t make or obtain a charm intended to hide it.”
Mullins blinked, looking stupider than ever. “I didn’t know you could do that. Make a charm like that, I mean.”
“I didn’t, either. It’s quite a remarkable thing for someone who opposes magic to possess.”
The pleasant expression stayed stuck to Parrott’s face like gum to the sole of a shoe, but he ran a hand over the perfectly styled hair. One with a plain gold wedding ring, again like the one the ghost had worn. Did all men’s wedding rings look identical? “This could ruin me. I’m asking you not to say anything, anything at all, about it.”
“I don’t out anyone unless I have to. Unless it’s essential to the investigation, whatever Gift or trace of the Blood people are concealing is their own—”
“I am
not
of the Blood.” His lip curled in disgust. “As for my Gift . . . yes, it’s quite minor. But I am not a hypocrite, Special Agent. Magic is wrong, an essential weakening of the tie between humans and our Creator. I had the charm made years ago for religious reasons. I wanted to suppress my Gift. Not to hide it, but to suppress it.”
That was . . . entirely possible. Maybe. When she’d shaken Parrott’s hand, she’d felt . . . not his magic, exactly, but the pressure of it, as if buried magic coursed beneath a null skin. The sensation of something flowing beneath an artificial skin was why she’d guessed at a Water Gift—a hidden one. But it was possible to suppress a Gift. Lily knew an empath who did just that with a spell. Parrott’s magic hadn’t felt the way the empath’s did, but maybe his charm operated differently. “You’d have to have the charm renewed from time to time.”
He grimaced. “Unfortunately, yes. I dislike it intensely, but I . . . I don’t feel I have much choice. I’ve been told there is no way to rid me of magic entirely, so I have to renew the charm.”
Mullins shook his head. “That’s tough. And working here with the senator, who disliked magic as much as you, maybe more . . . shoot, I bet he’d have fired you in a heartbeat if he found out.”
“He knew.”
Lily’s eyebrows climbed. “You’re claiming Senator Bixton knew about your Gift and kept you as his chief of staff?”
“I’ve been with him for fifteen years. Of course he knew. I confessed it to him years ago. He also knew about the charm. Bob is—was—a compassionate man. He respected the choice I’d made to suppress the trace of magic I’m cursed with.”
Naturally Lily tried to convince him to let them take the charm with them and have it tested. She wasn’t surprised when he refused. Either he was lying and it didn’t do what he said, or he was telling the truth and was worried about the state of his soul if he were parted from the charm.
He wouldn’t tell them where he went to have the charm renewed. That was a tad more suspicious, but he might not want to provide additional evidence of his Gift. He might even be protecting the practitioner he used the way he claimed. Lots of practitioners were wary of authority.
Lily left that interview unsatisfied. They let Bixton’s secretary know they were ready for the space she’d cleared for them, and she showed them to a small conference room. No windows, but it did have a pot of coffee. Lily headed there first. “Want a cup?”
“Never touch the stuff. What do you think?” Mullins pulled out a chair and sat. “He really tell Bixton his nasty little secret?”
“Maybe. If he didn’t and Bixton found out, it would make a dandy motive. Especially if he isn’t as suppressed as he claims.”
“How’d you know about the charm?”
“I guessed, based on experience. It could’ve been a spell—”
“Isn’t a charm a spell?”
“They look a lot the same to the rest of us,” she agreed, “but practitioners consider them quite different. A charm is the product of a spell, and not all practitioners can make them. I’m told the main difference is temporal, whatever that means. For me personally, charms and spells don’t feel the same. Charms are usually weaker, and their texture is, uh . . . more repetitive, maybe.” She shrugged. “Different, anyway. I thought you were going to say, ‘aw, shucks’ any minute there.”
He pulled a pack of gum from his jacket pocket. “I’m good.” He nodded, agreeing with himself. “You weren’t completely idiotic yourself. Picked up my pass right on time.”
“Better watch it with the compliments. I’ll get all fluttery.”
He unwrapped his gum slowly, looking as dour and dull as ever. “You going to have trouble working with me now that you’ve discovered my massive intellect, charm, and sex appeal?”
“My God. You’ve got a sense of humor.”
“All part of the package.” He put the gum in his mouth. “Have to fight you women off with a stick sometimes.”
 
 
SENATOR
Bixton had a large staff. They talked to four of them before Lily had to leave to get checked out by the Leidolf Rhej.
She was thinking about appearances and first impressions as Cullen pulled into the garage behind the row house. Doug Mullins wasn’t the unthinking, self-important prick she’d thought. Oh, he was a bit of a prick, but he was not stupid, and he was self-aware enough to know that people underestimated him and use that. He was damn good in interview.
Was she making assumptions about Dennis Parrott the way she had Mullins, based on dislike?
“Tell me more about the difference between charms and spells,” she said to Cullen as she got out of the car. “It’s something to do with time, right?”
He shut his door. “A charm is a spell held in stasis.”
“Like a ward? Wards don’t do anything until they’re activated, either.”
“Not exactly. A ward doesn’t act until it’s triggered, but then the action is immediate and complete. With a charm, part of the spell remains suspended even when the charm is activated. If it didn’t, the charm would work only for a split second.” He glanced at her as they started for the house. “Spells act in the now. In the moment. Charms can act over a period of hours or days or weeks, depending on the skill and intent of their maker.”
“Weeks? The sleep charms you made last month lasted a couple hours.”
“I made those in a hurry, and they needed to knock someone out immediately. I’ve got sleep charms that would keep someone asleep for a week, but they’d doze off gradually, which was not what we needed at the time.”
True. “What’s the upper limit on how long a charm can work?”
“Theoretically there isn’t one. Practically, it depends on what kind of charm you’re making, how it’s powered, and how good you are. But for reasons we don’t understand, charms don’t last beyond a single moon cycle. You’d have to be an adept to make one that lasted longer, and then what you’d have would be called an artifact.”
Startled, she paused just short of the deck Rule had added at the back of the house before Lily met him. “So an artifact is like a charm on steroids?”
“Pretty much, yeah. Or so I think. Since no one knows how to make an artifact anymore, I can’t prove it.”

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