Cat Adams - The Isis Collar

“You need us. Glinda’s going to be using magic that’s the equal of mine, plus whoever else she’s robbed. Every mage you have is on duty at the hospitals on zombie watch,” Creede said calmly. “But you’re in charge. I get that.” It drew my attention to him. He looked better than he had. Not good, but better. His physical injuries were less obvious, and he held himself with more of his usual confidence, and I could sense magic in him. That surprised me.

He heard my thoughts, and answered them, even though he still had eyes locked with Rizzoli. DeLuca helped me. We worked closely on the rift. He knows my signature. So he gave me a … transfusion. If he hadn’t, my magic would be gone for good. I’m not myself, and there are some control issues. But, I’ll eventually heal up.

That was … awesome. There are plenty of people who wouldn’t have been willing to share their powers like that, even if they could. But that was Bruno. He has his faults, but he’s one hell of a guy.

Yeah, he is.

“Glad you realize that.” Rizzoli gestured for us to gather around. He spread the blueprints he’d been carrying out on the examining table. Plopping a box of latex gloves on one end to hold it flat, he pointed out specific features of the building where they thought she was.

“We traced the number Jean-Baptiste called to a prepaid cell phone that is currently at this address. It’s on the border of the warehouse and red-light districts.”

I didn’t smack myself on the head, but I wanted to. I remembered now. I’d seen that staircase the night I was bitten and half-turned. I’d been guarding a demon spawn posing as a prince who’d taken us on a tour of the seediest, bottom-of-the-barrel strip clubs in the area. This one had been in a converted warehouse. The main bar and club were in an open area spanning all three floors, with the storerooms and dressing rooms on the north wall of the first floor. The “lap dance” rooms had been on the second floor. There were catwalks leading to the lighting fixtures attached to the ceiling beams. Clubs like that come and go pretty quickly. I wasn’t surprised she’d been able to buy the place. Probably for a song.

“Celia?” Bruno’s voice brought me back to the present with a start.

“Sorry. Just remembering. I just realized I’ve been here.”

Male brows raised all around.

Jeez. “Get your minds out of the gutter. It was on a job. The night I was attacked. But she may have done some remodeling since then.”

Kevin got closer. “You’re right. That’s the alley where I found you. I know a back way to get there … where they won’t see us coming. I never made it inside, but I can get the second group there without a soul seeing.”

Rizzoli nodded. “I’ll take any advantage we can get. And here’s another advantage.” He opened his hand to reveal tiny dots about the size of BBs. “We’ll be using technology and magic to get intel on the layout. All we know so far is the place has some major shielding.”

Magic and technology that can get through shielding. I immediately thought of a gadget John had invented that could turn the tide in our favor.

But he was already shaking his head sadly. “Can’t. The fly is gone. They stole it along with my car. All that was left of the Ferrari by the time the cops closed in on the chop shop was the section of the frame with the tracer on it.”

Aw man. That car had been his baby. I remember flying down the interstate with him, wind in my hair at speeds that were well past illegal … except during a magical crisis, which made even cops change lanes to give way. And the fly, a prototype of a magical device he’d invented himself. Both gone.

It reminded me I wasn’t the only one who’d been having a crappy time of it lately.

I touched his forearm to find it tense. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“Yeah.” Man, he really was choked up by the way the sound crawled out of his throat.

“Ahem.” Rizzoli looked from John to me. “Focus, people. Celia, since you’ve actually been here, and fairly recently, walk us through the layout.”

It didn’t take long. Other than the rooms on the one wall, the place was mostly a big open box. Which would make it seriously hard to do anything sneaky. Glinda was definitely going to have the advantage when it came to terrain.

I suggested I go in alone, as though I’d been enthralled by Dr. Jean-Baptiste. I could play dumb pretty well. People sort of expect it from a natural blonde, so I practice. It’s good to keep people off-balance by living down to their expectations. The others could follow while I kept her distracted and we could overwhelm her with sheer numbers.

Not unexpectedly, Bruno, John, and Kevin didn’t like that idea. Not at all. They explained in the finest detail and strongest wording why it was unworkable, illogical, and … well, that pretty well said it all.

Only Rizzoli nodded. “There are six entrances on the ground floor, one fire escape attached to the office areas on the second floor, and skylights on the roof. It could work. Yeah, she’s got shielding and there are lookouts and guards, but really—our best option is to go through with Celia’s plan.” The boys turned as one and looked horrified, which was flattering. “At least partially,” Rizzoli amended. “I think I can go one better, though, so I’ve brought in a very special agent from Dallas.”

On cue the woman who had been waiting in the hallway walked in. Tall, slender, she was like a carving of a goddess done in ebony. She could’ve walked any fashion runway and made a fortune, and I wondered why she’d chosen a career with the Feds.

The boys’ reaction was less favorable. Bruno was fine. But Creede took a step back, his eyes narrowing, and Kevin gave a barely audible growl.

“Can it, Fido,” she warned impatiently. “I’m on your side.”

“What’s up?” Bruno asked. He didn’t seem to know what was bothering them any more than I did, but he was alert, and I could feel him gathering his power.

Rizzoli sighed. “Special Agent Matumbo’s mother was human, a witch. Her father was a demon.”

She was a spawn, with magic ? Oh, crap. There were spawn working for the Feds? That was disturbing on so many levels.

“She is a trusted field agent”—he glared at each of us in turn—“and has the ability to shape-shift convincingly and produce powerful shields. Her magic is primarily defensive. She will be going in with Celia in the guise of Jean-Baptiste. You”—he pointed to Bruno—“and I are going to be his hired thugs. That will get us in the front door so we can find and disable the source of the shield.”

Bruno nodded. “It has to be an artifact. A shield as powerful as you say is hard to maintain for any length of time. It takes constant attention for things as stupid as mice and bats—the outdoor kind that eat bugs. They really mess up a building shield. A single person would spend all their time sensing problems in the shield and correcting them, so it only makes sense to give the task over to an object that handles the dirty work. If it’s an artifact, I can find it. It’s what I do for a living.”

Creede started to protest that he should go in with us, too, but Rizzoli silenced him with a gesture. “The rest of you will be waiting outside the perimeter. We have to have a second mage in case the first wave is killed. Once we’re in, we might not have communication. It’ll be Celia and Matumbo’s job to keep Glinda distracted. You”—he pointed to Bruno—“have one job. Get that barrier down. Don’t worry about me or Celia. This witch can’t be allowed to keep that collar. What the demons and the rift couldn’t accomplish in destroying the city, she just might.”