each hand; they could be used to detect the presence of water and other energies. They had also proven to be helpful in tracking the natural flow of magic beneath the ground.
I wasn’t close enough to see, but I bet those rods were glyphed up the wazoo, and it was magic, not water, she was searching for.
“You can see for yourself where the spell was located,” Stotts said as we climbed the stairs to the gazebo.
Julian whistled. “What was it?”
“Might be Conversion,” Stotts said.
“Might?”
“It dissolved before Allie could get a strong read on it,” Stotts said.
Julian arched an eyebrow and looked up at me. “Is that so?”
“Fell apart when I touched it.” That was almost the whole truth.
“Do you need anything else?” Stotts asked.
“Nope.” Julian slipped off his backpack and pulled out a pair of leather gloves and a spray can.
“Then keep the spell use to a minimum,” Stotts said. “We’re already up against the wall with Proxy costs this month and I don’t want to fight with the suits to justify an overage.”
“Tell them to cut us a bigger budget.” Julian shook the can and began marking a circle around the entire inside parameter of the gazebo.
Stotts just grunted. “I’d rather not lose any more men.”
Julian shook his head. “Speaking of which.” He held up the spray can. “You might want to step back.”
Stotts nodded at me and we both walked out of the gazebo, passing Garnet and Richards on their way up the stairs.
The three of them recited a mantra, and the air suddenly felt a lot heavier.
I paused, but Stotts pulled me forward so I couldn’t watch anymore. I could still feel the magic they were using. The air was heavy with it, the rain so thick that for a second I wasn’t sure there was enough air between drops for me to inhale. Then they cast the spell-a spell I’d never experienced-and the rain broke free, a cloudburst, colder than natural rain, with a disinfectant smell to it.
“They clean up after magic by using more magic? That’s a smart idea.” I could not keep the sarcasm out of my tone. Probably because I didn’t try to.
“Funny,” Stotts said, “you don’t seem like the kind of person who should tell me how to do my job.”
“Don’t I?” I blinked innocently. “If that’s a problem, you might want to reconsider that job you offered me.”
We’d made it to the car by now. “I might. Get in.” He didn’t even wait for my reply before opening his door and sliding in out of the rain.
I took another sniff of the air, sneezed at the soapy chemical stink that filled my nostrils. No fireworks, no flash or sound came from the gazebo. I hesitated a moment more, heard what sounded an awful lot like a handheld vacuum cleaner whir to life. A vacuum cleaner? To clean up unquantified and possibly dangerous magical residue? Seriously?
Today was just full of surprises.
I pulled the door open and got in out of the rain.
Chapter Seven
Instead of taking me to the station, Stotts let me give him my statement in the car while he drove me home. Which was good. Because it hadn’t stopped raining, I hadn’t eaten since this morning, and the coffee at the police station wasn’t fit for human consumption. Using magic always made me hungry, and I was tired. Plus, that Disbursement I’d set to pay for Hounding the spell-a nice juicy headache-was in full force.
Stotts dropped me off in front of the building with a promise to contact me if he needed further information. I promised him I’d think about the job offer and let him know soon.
I trudged up the three flights of stairs to my apartment and paused at the top of the third-floor landing. A whiff of onions and beef and bacon made my mouth water. I didn’t know which of my neighbors was cooking, but I seriously considered tracking them down and inviting myself in for a bite.
I stopped at my apartment door, put one hand on the smooth surface, and without drawing on magic, listened for movement. It was a habit I picked up thanks to my less-than-calm last few months in the city with a variety of magic users trying to kill me.
More than movement. I heard singing. A woman’s voice. Nola.
Duh. I had company.
I unlocked the door, feeling like I’d jumped on the idiot train a day early, and walked into my home.
The delicious smell was stronger here, and my heart did a happy little leap in my chest, even though it made my head hurt more. Nola had been cooking!
She stood on tiptoe on a chair at the round table in my living room, her back to me. Her hands were full of vines from the potted plant that was now draping over my no-longer-plain vinyl blinds and white sheers.
On the other side of the wall-sized window was a bushy tree-plant thing-did I ever mention that I do not have a green knuckle in my body, much less a thumb? — which took up the empty space in the corner.
There were other touches that told me she’d been busy. A couple candles, three new throw pillows, and all the roses that had been in the kitchen sink now arranged and placed throughout the house in every vase, mason jar, and wine bottle I owned, plus a few more containers I could only guess she’d bought today.
I didn’t want to startle her, but wasn’t sure if she’d heard me come in. So I made some noise opening the door and shutting it more loudly behind me.
“Welcome back,” she said without turning. “I heard you come in the first time.”
I laughed and hung my soggy coat on the back of the door. “I didn’t want to send you tumbling to your death,” I said. “How was your day?”
“Good. I did some shopping. Hope you don’t mind.” She finished adjusting the vine, some kind of philodendron, I think, over the valance, where it obliged her, as all green living things seemed wont to do, by draping in a perfect waterfall of leaves like an interior-decorating magazine photo shoot. “You really needed some living things in here.”
“You didn’t pay for all this, did you?”
“It’s not that much,” she said as she stepped off the chair, flashed me a smile, then walked far enough back so she could look at her handiwork. “I found a nice secondhand store just down the street for the little things.”
“They were selling plants?”
“No. But the flower shop around the corner was. Think of it as payment for putting me up on such short notice for a few days. Soup’s ready. Did you have lunch?”
“Didn’t have time. I’m starving.” I headed into the kitchen, where I found on the stovetop soup filled with veggies, and bread wrapped in a dish towel on the counter beside it. Heaven. I filled a bowl, took a couple pieces of bread, and headed back into the living room.
“How did the job go?” Nola asked. She sat on the couch, and I sat at the cafe table. Nola had opened the blinds enough to let in the dull afternoon light. And with the cascade of green leaves in the corners of the room, the light no longer seemed as dreary.
“Good,” I said around a mouthful of the best beef veg gie soup I’d ever put a spoon to. “Any luck with Cody’s stuff?”
She folded her hands in her lap, and I realized I had rarely seen her that still, no knitting in her hands, no bills to pay, no charity items to sort, no chickens to tend, alfalfa to bale, heck, not even her dog Jupe’s big head to scratch.
It was the first time I’d really thought about how lonely her life might be.
“I went down to talk with the supervisor. She wasn’t available, and no one else seemed to have any information except that he was in the care of a psychologist for tests he needs before he can be released. They said that’s customary with cases that deal with the handicapped and their misuse of magic.”
