Grave Dance

The collector had moved to the next skimmer. She held her arms above her head as if reaching for the Aetheric energy helped her draw more of the excess magic that was poisoning her body. Despite the fact that she’d exceeded her overload point, the only expression on her face was pure and unadulterated ecstasy. I don’t think she even noticed when the collector thrust his hand through her sternum and jerked her soul free.

No, she isn’t dying. Not yet anyway. I marched forward—my bubble of empty space had opened a path all the way to the fence—without ever looking away from the collector, who now gripped a soul in each fist. Who is he? I’d never seen a collector strike before the cause of death guaranteed an end to life.

A hand wrapped around my arm, jerking me back. “This is what you consider keeping your head down?” Falin asked in a voice that had turned gravelly with anger. “Do you want to be dragged off to Faerie? Because if that’s your goal, I can take you there myself.”

I blinked at him and then my gaze snapped back to the scene beyond the fence. “She wasn’t supposed to die.” Or at least it hadn’t looked like she was supposed to die.

“What? What are you talking about? Jeez, Alex, your eyes are glowing like lanterns.” Falin lifted his hand as if blocking a glare and green light reflected off his pale skin. Light from my eyes.

I didn’t have time to worry about that.

“He took her and she wasn’t dead yet.” I pointed at the knot of skimmers, but no one except me realized the woman was dead—apparently not even her own body noticed it was now unoccupied.

The collector—or reaper, as Roy had called him and maybe that was a more appropriate name—looked down at the souls he clutched. He still hadn’t vanished the man, whose screams had given way to begging. The woman’s soul just looked confused, as if she still didn’t understand. Then the reaper vanished, taking the souls with him.

The woman’s body finally collapsed, hitting the ground without her ever making a sound.

A frenzy had already stirred the crowd outside the gate, but now it lifted to a new pitch, bordering on chaos. With two bodies on the ground, the police didn’t have to wait for warrants. They stormed the lot, pulling the skimmers away from the rift by force, dragging them when they wouldn’t cooperate.

The skimmers might have been blissed out of their minds from contact with the Aetheric, but they noticed being dragged from the source. They struggled, screaming, fighting, and cursing. Filled with raw magic, their curses and their very anger, took shape. As an officer attempted to restrain one woman, a black and red cloud of unfocused rage lifted out of her and engulfed him. The officer jumped back, beating at his arms and chest as if swatting dozens of stinging insects. Another officer fell to his knees, grasping his throat as a sludgelike bubble of magic encased his head.

The anti–black magic unit officers were better prepared. Their personal wards and charms helped them shrug off the unfocused spells, and now that the skimmers were using magic against them, they retaliated in kind. The first skimmer went down, unconscious under a spell. Then another. A third one got caught in a circle.

The remaining skimmers glanced at each other, and then scattered, Bell among them. Three officers went after the large man, and he turned. Magic pooled in his palms. A lot of magic.

“Look out,” I yelled a moment before Bell flung the raw magic at the closest officer. Not that anyone besides Falin heard me.

The officer might have been warded against a lot of different spells, but nothing can ward you against an assault of raw Aetheric energy. It slammed into his chest, knocking him off his feet, and the smell of burned flesh spread over the lot. Bell ran for the river and threw himself into the current. The officers chasing him stopped at the edge of the rushing water, the beams of their flashlights skittering over the choppy surface.

“He’s gone,” Falin said, shaking his head.

I scanned the water, waiting for Bell to surface for air. He didn’t. “Think he survived?”

“The current isn’t too dangerous here.”

True, and Bell had gone into the water absolutely bristling with magic. With that much raw Aetheric energy at his disposal, who knew what he was capable of? Unless the overload had completely addled his brain, which was possible. One way or another, he was gone and the skimmers’ claim on the crime scene was broken.

Four people left the vacant lot in body bags, nine more in ambulances, and five in handcuffs. The rest of the skimmers escaped.

“It’s a little higher,” I said from where I stood outside one of the ambulances. “Like a cloud around his head and torso.”

The man in question groaned as another pus-filled blister burst open in an angry welt on his forehead. The healer leaning over him lifted his hands a couple of inches and glanced at me. I nodded to let him know he was now in the center of the cloud.

“Can you sense what color strands of Aetheric were used?” he asked.

I didn’t have to sense it. I hadn’t closed my shields, so I could actually see the mottled miasmic cloud of magic, though that wasn’t a fact I was sharing. “Red, but it’s dark, so more than one color. Primarily red, though.”

The healer nodded and turned toward his patient again. His fingers trembled, and he clenched his hands. His Adam’s apple wobbled as he swallowed, but then he forced his fingers straight again and nodded as if he’d come to some conclusion. His eyelids drooped as his gaze focused inward, and a thin string of energy appeared between his hands.

The string grew slowly, snaking almost unobtrusively through the cloud of magic. I watched, monitoring the curse. The healer’s gently glowing spell wove through the mist, building a spiderweb of green channels. The curse finally noticed and a tendril of magic shot out the side.

“The cloud is dividing. The new section is pooling over his thighs.”

The healer spread his arms, making the thread of magic stretch. Muscles twitched in his face with the strain, but he kept the flow of magic even until his slowly building tapestry of magic disrupted the structure of the curse. The destructive mist shattered.

“You got it,” I said as the spent Aetheric energy dissipated.

The healer’s hands dropped, and he sagged where he sat. “Thank goodness,” he said, even his voice raw from the effort of dispelling the ill-formed curse. “You ever think of going into curse-breaking? You’re definitely sensitive enough to do the diagnostic work.”

“Not really my thing,” I said as I stepped back, out of the open ambulance door. The healer remained behind. I didn’t blame him; he was spent. Besides, I could see Tamara helping another healer with the last officer hurt during the skimmer bust, so there were no more patients to tend.

I gave a wave to the paramedic when he jumped out to shut the ambulance doors. Then I turned away and headed back for the fence and the crime scene beyond. The police had secured the area and once again access beyond the fence was limited. Which meant I still hadn’t gotten to study the ritual space I’d come to see.

“Miss Craft, I’d like to say I’m surprised to see you here,” a familiar voice said, and I cringed. Agent Nori. I turned toward the voice, but when I saw her through my grave-sight, I realized I wouldn’t have recognized her if she hadn’t spoken first.

Nori’s typical glamour resembled her fae mien only in that they shared the same basic shape. Under that glamour her skin was tinged deep blue and her features had a razor edge, her chin and nose ending in sharp points. As she strolled toward me, her wisp-thin body moved as though her hips were shaped differently from those of a human or as if walking wasn’t her most comfortable way to travel. She watched me with large, multifaceted eyes, like a fly’s, and I looked away before she realized I was staring.

“What can I do for you?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and rocking back on my heels.

“Could you stop with the glowing eyes for a moment?”

“No, actually I can’t.” I’d been peering across planes for at least an hour at this point, and my regular eyesight was definitely shot by now. If it had been the middle of a very bright, sunny day, and if it hadn’t been going on nearly twenty-four hours since I’d last slept, I might have been willing to hope my eyesight would adjust once I closed my shields. But it was the middle of the night and I was physically exhausted even without factoring in the amount of magic I’d used. I wasn’t willing to spend the rest of the night in utter darkness. Especially not here.

“Fine.” But her tone didn’t agree. A high-pitched keening sound cut through the air and I glanced around, startled. Nori either didn’t notice the sound or it didn’t concern her because she continued without pausing, “I got word that an anonymous informant clued Detective Matthews in on the presence of a body on the grounds.” She nodded to where the cadaver dogs were sweeping the lot. “I’m going to assume that call came from you.”

As I couldn’t deny it, I decided to remain silent. A search of the abandoned tent city had turned up a single left foot, apparently still encased in a boot. The cadaver dogs were now searching the banks, but I knew they wouldn’t find anything else. Not nearby at least.

When I didn’t answer, the keening I’d heard a moment before sliced through the air again. Is Nori doing that? Or was it coming from behind her? I shuffled sideways and shot a surreptitious glance over her shoulder. A double pair of iridescent dragonfly wings almost blended in with her dark suit where they were tucked tight against her back. The wings sprouted from somewhere near Nori’s shoulder blades and trailed down to her calves like a membranous cape, but I would have missed them completely if the strobing lights from the police cars and fire trucks hadn’t been reflecting off the thick veins. Her wings twitched in time with the fingers she strummed against her elbow as she watched me, and as they rubbed together, they emitted the strange, high-pitched screech I’d heard earlier.

“Should I take a guess how you knew the foot was on the scene? Maybe you placed it there.”