Magic and Loss

washer balancing a serving platter loaded with bowls of flash-fried crickets and battered dragonflies. The towering restaurateur was almost as tall as his bouncer, with long, ketchup-red hair and a matching beard. He was dressed in a pair of bib overalls and a loud Hawaiian shirt nearly as colorful as the tattoos covering his forearms. Like all Kymerans, he exuded a unique scent that was part body odor and personal signifier, in his case a combination of corn dogs and bananas Foster.

“Welcome back, Serenity! Have you checked out our new merchandise yet?” Lafo nodded toward the small booth under the staircase that was stocked with T-shirts and beer mugs emblazoned with the Calf’s double- headed logo. “Would you believe we’re selling as many T-shirts as we are drinks now? A couple of my old regulars got their noses out of joint over it, but you gotta make hay while the sun shines! Those renovations after the riot set me back quite a bit, even with the insurance. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to replenish the snack bowls at the bar.”

I followed Hexe up the stairs, past the framed lithographs of his great-great-grandfather and the Founding Fathers signing the Treaty of Golgotham, to the dining area, with its dark wood floors and coffered ceiling. While I was no longer the only human to be seen in the dining room, the vast majority of the customers were still Kymeran. Despite the token addition of cheeseburgers to the menu, most of Lafo’s newly acquired human clientele no doubt found it far easier to catch a buzz than enjoy a meal at the Calf.

Captain Horn rose from his seat as we approached. Although he had removed his hat to reveal his maroon crew cut, he was still wearing his PTU dress uniform. As he smiled down at me in welcome, I glimpsed a hint of his son’s mouth and jawline.

“You’re as lovely as ever, Tate,” Horn said as he hugged me. I found myself enveloped by the sturdy and reassuring scent of oak leaves and musk. “Please, sit down. Feel free to order whatever you like—dinner and drinks courtesy of the Paranormal Threat Unit.”

As we took our seats at the table, a waiter with mango-colored hair came forward and handed us menus. Hexe laughed and handed them back without looking. “That won’t be necessary—I’ll have the pork brains in gravy, and the lady would like the filet of herring.”

“Very good, Serenity,” the waiter said, bobbing his head in ritual obeisance as he jotted down our order. “Any drinks before dinner?”

“Yes, I’ll have cod liver oil,” Hexe replied. “What about you, Tate?”

“I’ve got to get up and go to work in the morning,” I reminded him. “I’ll have herbal tea, if you don’t mind.”

As our waiter hurried off, Hexe turned to his father. “So—what’s the reason for inviting us to dinner?” he asked brusquely, ignoring my gentle kick to his shins. “And why is the PTU paying for it?”

The smile disappeared from Captain Horn’s face. “I just wanted you to hear it from me, not the media, that’s all,” he sighed.

“Hear what?” A look of dismay crossed Hexe’s face. “Heavens and hells—you and mother aren’t getting married, are you?”

“No! It’s nothing like that!” Horn assured him, only to fall silent as the waiter returned with a brandy snifter and a small pot of tea.

“What is it, then?” Hexe asked as he swirled his cod liver oil in its glass like a fine cognac. “What else could you possibly tell us that would require cushioning the blow at company expense?”

“The charges against Boss Marz and his croggies have been dismissed.”

I gasped, nearly dropping the teapot in midpour. It was as if the floor beneath my feet had suddenly disappeared, sending me into freefall. I looked over at Hexe, who was equally shocked. He reached out and took my hand and squeezed it. “How is that possible?” he asked.

“That fancy lawyer of his managed to spring him on a technicality,” Captain Horn explained. “Come tomorrow morning, he’ll be out of the Tombs and back on the streets. Son, I know what happened between you and the Maladanti, how they tried to force you to fight your friend Lukas the were-cougar to the death. I also know your biker friends were the ones who put the hurt on Marz before we arrived on the scene.

“I don’t have to tell you that Boss Marz is not one to forgive and forget. You need to keep on your toes once he’s back. If I know him, it won’t be long before he’s up to his old tricks again. If he or one of his croggies so much as looks cross-eyed at you, I want to know about it.”

“I appreciate the concern,” Hexe said stiffly, “but I’m more than capable of protecting both myself and Tate.”

“I do not doubt your abilities,” Horn replied. “There’s no question that you’ve got the strongest right hand in Golgotham. But there’s only one of you, while Marz has a squadron of spellslingers at his command. None of them are half the wizard you are, but add them all together . . . well, you can see what I mean.”

“I can keep us safe,” Hexe said firmly. “I was doing it long before I knew my father was the head of the Paranormal Threat Unit.”

The corner of Captain Horn’s mouth twitched slightly at the barb, but otherwise he remained impassive. “Boss Marz is not above relying on physical force as well as magic to get his way,” he warned. “There’s no glad eye amulet made that will protect you against a well-aimed knife or a cosh to the back of the head. All I’m asking is that you not take any unnecessary risks.”

He fell silent once again when the waiter arrived with our food. As I stared down at my filleted smoked herring on buttered rye, garnished with radishes, snipped chives and raw egg yolk, my stomach did an abrupt barrel roll. I jumped from my chair and ran to the ladies’ room as fast as I could. My fellow diners shook their heads in reproach, smirking at the sight of yet another nump with a glass stomach.

Chapter 3

“I knew there had to be a reason why he invited us to dinner,” Hexe said as he unlocked the front door. “There’s no such thing as a free meal.”

“Ugh! The thought of Boss Marz walking the streets again is making my guts flip-flop all over again,” I exclaimed as I sat down at the kitchen table, holding my head in my hands.

“Stress will do that to you,” he replied. “How about I fix you a nice cup of chamomile and skullcap?”

“Aren’t you the least bit scared?” I asked as I watched him calmly tinker with the teapot. “Boss Marz tried to kill you last time, and he damn near succeeded.”

“Of course I’m concerned,” Hexe admitted. “But I refuse to be frightened by Marz and his croggies. Living in fear of someone like that lets them in your head and gives them control over you. And remember, you’re not helpless anymore—you have the ability to protect yourself, even when I’m not around.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m nowhere near ready to defend myself against the Maladanti!” I protested. “That’s like expecting someone with a learner’s permit to drive a getaway car.”

“One of the most important things about magic—no matter what hand you use—is that you have to be as strong as, if not stronger than, the power you seek to control. That means possessing both will and vision. Anyone who could turn a car transmission into a fully articulated panther, even before it was brought to life, will rock out at being a wizard. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll put Scratch on night patrol for the time being. Now drink up,” he said, pushing a steaming cup of tea into my hands. “This will ease your stomach and settle your nerves.”

Just then Beanie scratched at the kitchen door and began to do his “gotta pee” dance. I opened the door and followed him out onto the back porch, hoping the night air would clear my mind. I wrapped my hands around the steaming cup of tea, savoring its warmth, as I looked out across the garden. My eye automatically strayed to the copper “maternal furnace” I had unwittingly built for Uncle Esau, which now sat in the far corner of the yard, its copper dragon’s head pointed at the night sky, as if baying at the moon. Where once it hatched murderous, bird- footed homunculi, now it simply composted lawn clippings.

Beanie came bounding toward the door, ready to get out of the chill night air now that he’d relieved himself.