Better start believing. I not only do judge. I am a judge. Also jury and executioner.
Think about that the next time you’re tempted to buy a pair of snakeskin shoes or boots.
You never know who that snake once was.
Or is.
Remember, Mark Twain said that a lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes. A trickster can make it all the way around and steal truth’s shoes before the laces are tied.
And we are everywhere, finger-painting the world red with the blood of the wicked.
Wait.
You’re not wicked, are you?
Sugar, where are you going?
Well, be that way. Bye-bye, then.
For now.
See you soon.
Sooner than you think.
Smooches.
RUBY RED
A Darque Files Story
BY KALAYNA PRICE
Set in the world of the Alex Craft Novels
I shucked my singed jacket and dropped it on the cheap hotel carpet. Ruined. Damn. My pants weren’t any better. The acrid scent of scorched leather engulfed me. Wrinkling my nose, I considered stripping and hitting the shower without acknowledging the man sitting in the obligatory armchair found in every hotel room across the country. The blinds were open behind him, which allowed him to read the document in his lap with the final rays of evening sun.
“You could have warned me about the fire elemental,” I said as I checked the condition of my boots. Salvageable.
Derrick Knight, my partner and fellow investigator in the Magical Crimes Investigation Bureau, looked up for the first time and grimaced. “You’ve handled elementals before.” He frowned. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
“No.” I unlaced my boots. They had a little scorching, but would clean up okay. “But if you want one Briar Darque, extra crispy, I know where to look.”
“I didn’t know about the fire elemental, Briar.” The words lacked both sympathy for my situation and amusement at my last statement as Derrick went back to reading the document in his lap.
Well, if he was going to sit in my room and ignore me, I was losing the charred pants. I stripped and tossed the pants on the floor with my jacket. The charms in the clothing had protected me from the flames, but damn, I was really going to miss that outfit. Now I’d need to tweak the spells worked into my backup jacket.
Across the room, Derrick cleared his throat. I turned, still pantless, and found his gaze locked on his document—desperately so, judging by the tightness on his face. He’d seen me half-naked—or worse—before, but I took pity on the guy and grabbed a pair of yoga pants from my luggage.
Derrick was doubly wyrd, which meant that on top of normal witch powers, he had two abilities he couldn’t completely control. It was rare to have two wyrd abilities. And in my business rare usually meant one of two things: The MCIB recruited you or they sent someone like me after you.
The first ability was premonition, and as he’d recently celebrated his thirty-first birthday without going bat-shit insane, he was considered to be well above the curve. The second ability was more difficult. He had been born with touch clairvoyance, which was why it was cruel for me to show off a lot of flesh around him. The clairvoyance was a little spotty, but when he touched an object or person, half the time he flashed into their history or memory. Occasionally useful on cases, it was typically only a hindrance to, well, living. Anything he planned to touch had to be either new—thus no strong events or emotions tied to it—or his. Which meant he always carried a pair of gloves, he brought whatever he might eat with him to restaurants, supplied his own bedding at hotels, and special ordered his clothes. And skin to skin contact? Nope, definitely not. With all the travel, my dating life was minimal. His dating life? About nil. Of course—who knew?—maybe he had a long-distance thing going on. We didn’t really talk about personal stuff.
I glanced at him once I’d pulled on the pants and then stopped. “Oh, no. You’ve got that look.”
He didn’t bother asking me which look—he damn well knew.
A case.
I stepped to the bed and meticulously removed my weapons, checking each before placing it with the quickly amassing collection spread over my comforter. “I guess any chance of us getting our promised vacation is slim?”
“If we keep catching emergency cases, probably.”
Right. I held the title of investigator, but my real job was to intervene when a witch went off the rails and the shit hit the proverbial fan—that typically involved a witch pulling something out of one of the other planes of existence. I’d already eliminated two elementals and arrested a witch who fancied himself a summoner since my attempted vacation began. Couldn’t the bad guys take a break long enough for me to take one?
Removing the last of my knives, I left the bed and my rows of weapons as I moved to the open space in the room. Taking a deep breath to center myself, I spread my legs to a shoulder-width distance before hanging my torso downward so I could hug my legs in a deep stretch.
“So, what’s the case?” I asked, still upside down.
Derrick flipped back to the first page of the file. “Recently there was an outbreak of what was originally assumed to be an unknown contagion that reduced the victim from healthy to comatose in under twelve hours. A virus or bacteria has been ruled out as the cause, and it is now clear that a spell is responsible for the victims’ conditions.”
“So I’ll be looking for an unknown witch who for whatever reason is causing an epidemic.” It sounded easy enough. In fact, it probably should have gone to a different team—a team not on vacation.
“There’s more,” Derrick said as he flipped a few pages. “There have been reports of ‘smoke creatures’ in the shadows at night.”
Despite his finger quotes, I couldn’t help repeating, “Smoke creatures? What are we talking about? Air elementals? Djinn?”
Derrick shrugged without looking up. “I haven’t found a more concrete description—just that they have magical signatures consistent with a human witch, so they fall under our purview.”
I processed that as I changed from stretching to yoga and moved into warrior pose. “They have a sensitive working the case?”
Derrick shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard. All these readings came from detector charms. Also, I visited the hospital and gathered what information I could about the victims. I’m working on a time line to find where they might have encountered our unknown witch.”
“You started a new case before I’d tied up the last?”
“I looked into it just a bit while you were out.”
Out. Yeah, out meant I was risking my life hunting bad guys Derrick encountered only through research done at a safe distance. But Derrick had his job, and I had mine. And I wasn’t complaining. After all, mine came with a kick-ass crossbow, top-of-the-line weaponized spells, and a killer wardrobe—well, the last had had some recent casualties, but I’d remedy that the first chance I got.
I nodded to my partner, showing I held no hard feelings.
“It sounds like you’re still in the first steps of reconnaissance.” Which meant I wouldn’t be hunting yet.
Maybe I’d get a day or two of vacation after all.
I didn’t get that vacation.
The next night I found myself sitting in a parked rental Hummer wishing there was a Chinese take-out place nearby. But no, the case put me in Central York. According to the signs, the town was a “Suburban Paradise.” I could see why someone would make that claim; Central York was mostly houses. Streets and streets of rainbow-colored houses and perfectly manicured lawns turned the town into a carefully designed grid of homes. The “rebels” in the town had added an extra flower bed to their yards, making them stand out fractionally. Home Owners Associations were bad enough, but to move anywhere in this town you had to practically sign away your personality. This place looks more like Suburban Hell.