Devon Monk - Magic in the Shadows

“That’s great,” I said, with a lot less sarcasm. “Dinner’s ready. Come on out and we’ll eat.”

“Eat?” His face clouded over.

“After dinner you can have a cookie with a secret note in it.”

“Cookie?”

“That’s right.” I held out my hand for him.

He stared at my hand, then patted Stone’s head and took my hand.

At his touch, magic stirred in me.

“Pretty,” Cody said. “Magic. Like me.”

“Think so?” I asked him. He nodded and nodded.

I led him out of the bedroom and shut the door. Nola had already set the food out on the little table for the three of us. Stotts was gone.

Once he saw the food, Cody didn’t need any more encouragement. He sat down and contentedly began eating it with a spoon.

“So,” Nola said, as I took my seat to one side of her. “How was your day?”

“You don’t want to know.” I got busy with the chop-sticks, and for just a little while, pretended like everything in my life was back to normal.

We made up a place for Cody to sleep on the couch, and Nola slept on the living room floor on an air mattress she’d been smart enough to buy.

I slept in my own bed, alone except for the gargoyle who was silent and still by my window.

When morning rolled around, I heard Nola and Cody get up. Heard them each take a shower. Smelled coffee being made. But I pulled a pillow over my head and ignored it all. I was every kind of tired that had a name. And it wasn’t nearly light enough outside for me to drag myself out of my warm blankets.

A soft knock at my door, and then Nola’s voice. “Allie? Cody and I are going to go out to breakfast with Paul. After that, I might get Cody some clothes to take to my place. We won’t be home for a while. Coffee’s fresh in the kitchen.”

Then I heard her patiently coaxing Cody into his coat, and a knock on the door that I could only assume was Detective Stotts. His voice was low and gentle in greeting, and then Nola and Cody and Stotts were all gone, the door shut and locked behind them.

I pulled the pillow off my head and rolled over on my back, hogging the bed. It had never felt this good to be alone in my life.

Bliss.

Something shook the bed. That something was the size of a Saint Bernard and made out of rock, with opposable thumbs.

Stone shook the bed again. When I didn’t respond on the third try, he made himself busy opening and closing my dresser drawers, then opening and shutting the closet door. Repeatedly.

Oh, sweet hells.

I propped up on my elbows. “Can’t a girl get some sleep?”

Stone twisted his head to look over his wing at me. He crooned, but did not stop opening and closing the closet door.

I moaned and got up.

“Fine. You want out? Try using your thumbs on this door.” I opened the bedroom door.

He trotted over and made a happy glass-marble clicking sound, then headed straight for the bathroom.

“No way,” I said realizing there was about to be a half ton of rock between me and my morning shower. “Go talk to the kitchen sink.” I maneuvered around him in the small hallway, which gave me the willies and made it hard to breathe for a second. There was so not enough room in the hall for me and him at the same time.

Still, it was worth it. I made it to the bathroom first and shut the door on Stone’s curious snout.

“Kitchen,” I said through the door. Just in case that wasn’t a word the gargoyle knew, I locked the door.

The shower woke me up the rest of the way and reminded me that I was full of aches. A headache-probably part of my payment for all the magic I’d been throwing around-started up at the back of my neck. There would be more to follow that. I tried to remember all the Disbursements I’d set. Fever, body ache. Head cold? Migraine? Too many to remember. I guessed I was just going to have to wait and find out.

I got out of the shower and took a couple aspirins. Maybe I’d go out today and buy some of those glyphwork painkillers, some cold medicine, and chicken soup.

I took my time drying off. Paid attention to my injuries and scars, a habit that was becoming a ritual. Besides the puncture wounds on my shoulder that seemed to be healing pretty well, I had a variety of scrapes and bruises.

But it was the thin silver arc beneath my navel that really caught my notice. I tried to rub it off, but it didn’t so much as smear. A delicate symbol of eternity, the figure eight on its side, traced across my lower stomach, and in the light, silver touched with blue, rose, and green washed across it as I moved. It was like the marks down my arm, but different.

I traced it, and remembered Zayvion’s fingers against my skin.

I wondered if it would fade, or if this new mark was a part of me now.

I wrapped my towel tighter around me and wandered off into the bedroom. I dressed, then headed into the kitchen for some of Nola’s coffee.

Stone was not in the kitchen. He was, however, in the living room, his forehead pressed against the window, his batlike wings curved umbrellas over his shoulders as he stared out at the city.

I walked over, coffee in one hand and patted his shoulder. “Nice, isn’t it?”

It was raining outside, but a rainy day in Portland felt comfortable as an old pair of slippers.

Stone clicked in agreement and continued to watch the people who walked the streets below.

My thoughts wandered to Davy. Maybe the city only looked nice on the outside. On the inside, it found an awful lot of ways to hurt people. I decided to call the hospital to see how he was doing. The nurse on duty wouldn’t give me any information, which made sense since I wasn’t related to him. She could only confirm that he was still there, still in ICU. I thanked her and hung up. I’d just have to head down there and see if I could find anything out.

But before I went anywhere else and did anything else, I needed to record the last few days in my book.

I padded, barefoot, over to my coat and pulled out my little notebook. I took it and a fresh cup of coffee back to the table and worked on writing down everything that had happened in the last few days. It took a while, even though I was fast at this. And looking back over it, all I could do was shake my head.

“I need a vacation,” I muttered. And from my notes, it was also clear I needed to call Violet and talk to her again about turning my dad’s company over to her.

Better now than never.

I dialed her number. Violet picked up on the second ring.

“Beckstrom residence,” she said.

“Hi, Violet. It’s Allie.”

“I’m glad you called,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about your offer for me to take over as CEO of Beckstrom Enterprises.”

A soft flutter brushed against the back of my eyes. Not as weak as before. Growing stronger. I had a sinking feeling in my gut that my father was recovering.

I rubbed at my eyes to try and push the flutter away. No luck.

“Great,” I said to Violet. “And what did you decide?”

“To accept.”

I exhaled with relief. I’d really been stressed about having to run my dad’s company, or handing it over into incompetent hands. “Good,” I said, trying to be nonchalant about it. “How do we make this happen?”

“Leave that to me. I’ll get everything together and let you know when and how we’ll handle the transfer.”

“When you need me, just call, okay?” I said.

“I will. And Allie?”

“Yes?”

“I tested the material.”

I had to think for a second to come up with what she was talking about. Then I remembered she had taken a sample from the ring of ash in the park.

“It is from the disks. The signature is there. But we never had these kinds of results in the laboratory. Someone has found a way to use the disks with”-she paused, thinking-“Blood magic, I’m fairly sure, and some form of magic I’ve never seen.”