Faerie Magic (6 page)

“Not our drugs. Maybe a potion. Might not be connected…”

“It might be,” I said. “This guy lost his shit and stabbed someone.”

“The half-faeries are efficient at policing one another,” said Vance. “Believe it or not. Anyone who lives in their territory follows the Chief’s laws.”

I blinked. “The Chief?”

“The title’s a ceremonial one.” Vance moved in to look closer at the spell, and I was acutely aware of how close he stood to my leg. “The half-faeries came up with their own system of governing when the Mage Lords ordered them to elect a representative in the early years following the invasion. That’s why we gave them the territory.”

“Learn something new every day,” I said. I hadn’t known, because I’d been absent for ten years after the invasion. I still didn’t know everything that had occurred in the interim. “And can you talk to this… Chief?”

“I can, but he won’t be any more accommodating than the others were. I certainly wouldn’t be permitted to use a witch charm on their territory.”

Isabel examined the blood. “Hmm. It’s definitely a drug. I’ll run some more tests.”

Vance and I stood awkwardly side by side as she paced the circle, throwing various substances into it to see if the blood reacted. When she threw a handful of white powder in, the edges of the circle flared up in white light, leaving a burning imprint on my eyelids.

“Whoa.” Her own eyes widened. “That’s… damn.”

“What is it?”

She chewed on her lip. “I’m trying to figure out how to explain it in a way a non-witch would understand, but it’s… volatile. I can’t think of a reason anyone would have
that
in their blood. This was from the murderer?”

I nodded. “So he was drugged, and went on a killing spree?” Wait. “Dammit. We should have used a tracking spell by the second body. Then we might have caught the killer.”

“The half-faeries would never allow it,” said Vance. “However…” Two jars appeared in his hands. “I did take this from the crime scene.”

“You used your displacing ability?” Each jar contained a spatter of blood.

“I’ll get another spell,” said Isabel, apparently unruffled by the jars’ sudden appearance. Damn dramatic mages. Just telling me things was too straightforward for him.

“This one’s from the first victim,” he said, passing it to Isabel. “And the second is from the other victim. I don’t expect you’ll find anything unusual, but you might want to use a tracking spell, if the killer’s at large.”

Isabel nodded. “Can one of you set up the tracker?”

I was already on it, clearing a section of floor. I wanted to be the one to use the spell, so I could see this for myself. Why, I wasn’t sure. I generally tried to stay far away from faerie-related drama. I couldn’t say why it bothered me so much that three had died.

Generally, tracking spells were used to find someone’s present location, but Isabel made a specialist branch of spells which let you see the immediate past of the person you were tracking. In other words, where they’d last been. As the ingredients were so expensive, we rarely used them.

The green tracker circle spread to cover a small section of the floor. Vance handed me the second container of blood. My fingers tingled a little where his brushed against mine. I ignored my reaction and unscrewed the jar. Three drops of blood into the circle. I leaned forward. Green light flared, spreading up my arms. I leaned further into the light.

Using a tracker was always strange. You were thrown into the perspective of the person you tracked like watching a movie in your head, but without sound, and with a weird double awareness of being in two places at once. Vertigo made my head spin even though the images unfolding in front of me remained steady.

Images. Walking through half-blood territory. The colours were muted in the vision, the edges blurred. The person I followed turned a corner.

A figure ran at them, wielding a knife. I leaned closer, willing my ears to pick up the sound. The knife-wielder’s body language spoke for itself. More words were exchanged, then the half-faerie advanced on the other, a manic expression on his face.

The knife slid in quickly. Of course, I didn’t feel it, but I still winced.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blurred figure approach. They—she—came into focus, and she wore a terrified expression on her face. The knife-wielder, I realised belatedly, had disappeared. The female half-faerie spoke. Then she turned her back and walked away.

I blinked, realising why she’d looked familiar. Alain… I knew her. I’d helped her once.

Why had she spoken to the dying half-faerie then walked away?

“Ivy?” Isabel waved a hand in front of my face, breaking through the vision. “You okay?”

I blinked again, letting go of the spell. I shook my head to clear it. The living room seemed unusually bright after the fuzziness of the vision.

“What did you see?” asked Vance.

The last traces of magic faded from the circle. “That was really weird. I saw the victim’s last moments, but… there was this other half-faerie. One I’ve spoken to before… kind of. Last time I saw her, her boyfriend set a kelpie on me.”

“Oh,” said Isabel, who’d heard the story. “Her. What did she do?”

I shook my head. “She spoke to the dying half-faerie. Then she wandered off. Doesn’t seem a normal thing to do when you find someone dying.”

“Unless she went to fetch someone,” said Isabel.

“Did you see anything unusual in her body language?” asked Vance.

“She looked pretty scared,” I said. “Damn. I’d speak to her, but I nearly got my foot chewed off last time I went near her flat.”

“Ah.” Isabel leaned forward to clear the spell’s crumbling remains away. “That’s… yeah. You don’t want to do anything rash.”

“I just did,” I said. “How the hell do we explain what we know to the half-faeries? I saw the killer, but if I told them how, they’d probably flay me alive for stealing blood from recent murder victims and using it to cast spells. I doubt they’d listen to reason.”

“No,” said Isabel. “You have a knack for getting into situations you can’t explain away. Is there anyone… one of the mages, maybe, who can talk to them? They’d never let a witch in.”

“It’s a pain in the ass,” I said. “Your spells are more useful than faerie magic in situations like this. They don’t have an equivalent to a tracking spell. We know more than they do.”

“I know.” Isabel returned to the spell she’d been using on the containers of blood. “This blood—the victim’s—tests as normal, by the way. No traces of anything weird. Same with the other victim.”

“So the drug was just in the killer’s blood,” I said. “I saw the murderer’s face, but… you know I can’t tell one half-faerie from another. They’re probably hiding.” Guilt gnawed at me all the same. I’d seen a murderer, even if I didn’t know who they were, and couldn’t warn anyone without getting myself locked away or attacked. “Damn. All right. We should go back—” I broke off as Vance pulled his phone out. He tapped the screen then held it to his ear, listening to the person on the other end with a slightly irritated look on his face.

His expression froze. “Yes. I’ll be right there.”

A beeping sounded as he hung up the phone.

“What happened?” I asked.

“They caught the person who killed the leader of the East Midland’s mages.”

“Wait, they did?” I suppressed a shiver at the sudden breeze rising up around him. “A half-faerie? Or human?”

“Half-faerie.” His stormy gaze met mine. “This is no coincidence.”

“I—I do you want me to come with you?” Part of me wanted to run for the hills when he wore his
I’m going to murder someone
expression. “Is the killer alive?”

“For now.”

The threat wasn’t so much implied as emphasised. I shivered for real this time. I had an inkling the killer, whoever it was, wouldn’t last out the day.

CHAPTER FIVE

Vance didn’t say a word as we walked to the door. His hand rested on my arm, and the next second, we stood outside the gates to the manor. A sleek black car was parked alongside the road, mounted on the pavement.

“Why not teleport us to wherever it is you planned to go?”

“Because it’s outside the city,” said Vance.

“And your range only goes so far?”

Drake had hinted as much, but I’d never got a conclusive answer about the limits of the Mage Lord’s power.

Vance, however, didn’t answer. Apparently he’d given orders to his other mages, because two of them approached and handed him the sword I’d seen him use a couple of times. I tried not to stare when he sheathed it at his waist.
Oh. We’re going too far out of range of the manor.
His displacing power only worked up to a certain distance—which at least explained why he hadn’t been able to call me last time, if he’d left his phone behind.

The single most awkward drive of my life followed. Vance’s temper brewed like an approaching thunderstorm, and any ideas for small talk evaporated. I passed the time by messaging Isabel instead, as she uncovered the ingredients in the strange drug she’d found. I only understood half of what she told me, but she’d spoken to the coven leaders and they’d never found a formula like it before.

Weird. A drug that made half-faeries go apeshit and kill people? The Chief of the half-faeries was the person to tell, but it’d be impossible without admitting what we’d done.

I found myself fervently hoping we found out something useful when we spoke to the other killer. There might not be a connection, of course, and to be honest, it’d make my life a damn sight easier if these were random deaths. But nothing was ever random where the faeries were concerned.

An hour later, we arrived in Nottingham. Like where I lived, the outskirts of the city were a mess, a mixture of broken-down houses and overgrown forests which had sprung up when the faeries arrived. The mages never operated from the city centres, mostly because they were in a worse state than the outskirts. Before the war, all the mages had lived in hiding, operating under non-supernaturals’ noses without anyone suspecting there might be people walking amongst them with the ability to conjure fire or start random storms.

We pulled up outside a nondescript brown brick building. Outside stood a group of cloaked figures. Mages, and not ones I’d met. I went tense as they all looked at me, suddenly self-conscious as the one person not wearing a fancy cloak. I met their stares evenly, refusing to be intimidated. I had every right to be here: the Mage Lord had invited me, and it was my job to deal with faerie-related incidents.

Or so I told myself. Whispers followed us inside, as everyone parted to let the Mage Lord through. They made comments along the lines of
who’s she? She’s no mage.
My hands curled into fists. Now I remembered why I’d hated mages so much. Their goddamned superior attitude, coupled with the assumption that they could say whatever they liked and never get challenged. I glared at them all.

Vance spoke with a few of them. Apparently the prisoner was alert and had confessed openly to the crime. A mage led us into a side corridor—it looked like this place was held for supernatural criminals, so it was run by mages rather than the regular police. Interesting. So joining the Mage Lords wasn’t the only career option for mages.

The amount of magic swirling through the corridor, threads in the air only visible to me, told me there was more than one half-faerie in this jail. Blue tendrils floated by, and most seemed to be coming from underneath one particular barred door.

The Mage Lord stopped. Though I’d half expected it, I jumped when his sword materialised out of thin air as the assistant unlocked the door. Vance stepped in, approaching the figure lying on the bed. He didn’t look up when I followed Vance into the room.

“Javis,” said the Mage Lord. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

No response.

“Answer me.” His command sliced the air in two. The half-faerie seemed to become aware there were people in the room and half sat up. His ragged clothes were totally at odds with his elegant, pointed face, but mud smeared him from head to toe. Mud, and dried dark blood. His eyes went wide at the sight of the Mage Lord.

“You’re not—you’re…damn. Dammit.”

“Recognise me?” Vance moved forwards. The half-faerie’s gaze darted towards the door.

“Yes, I killed him,” said the half-faerie, his voice shrill. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was told—I was supposed to…”

“Spit it out,” I said. “Did you mean to kill that Mage Lord or not?”

A moment passed. His head dipped. “I was told I was invincible. Wanted to test it out. The guy insulted me.”

A hissing noise escaped Vance, and all the air in the room seemed to go thick, taut with energy.

“Who told you that you were invincible?” he asked quietly.

“Don’t know his name. He came to the market last weekend.”

“And he sold you something?” Vance had clearly come to the same conclusion as I had. “A substance that enhanced your magic?”