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“Just a woman who wants her brother back.” She snatched the picture away from me and returned it lovingly to her piano, then paced the floor. “I didn’t know any of this. Not until a few months ago. I’ve spent the last decade thinking my little brother had been murdered by hoodlums or thieves. But a man came to me – an old man. He claimed he was some kind of magician. He showed me the truth that the jinn killed my brother. He said that he was the one who’d put her in that ring, and if I got the ring for him, he would allow me my vengeance.”

Maggie, what is going on?

She remained quiet.

“Why would you trust this guy?” I asked Kimberly. “Some stranger you never met, claiming to know magic…”

Kimberly shifted anxiously. She leaned toward me, as if it were of vital importance that I know she was being truthful. “I just knew. He showed me things. It was like watching a movie in my own brain, like living the events myself.” She blinked rapidly, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “He showed me what that bitch did to my brother.”

I was getting fed up with Maggie’s silence. There wasn’t a lie in Kimberly’s anxious eyes, but I had a hard time believing Maggie was capable of what she claimed. “This magician,” I asked, “did he leave some way to contact him?”

Kimberly swallowed hard, then fetched her purse from the other end of the couch. She fished around inside for a few moments before handing me a white card. It had a phone number on it and the name Matthias in small letters in top right-hand corner. “That’s him. He said not to bother going to OtherOps – that the jinn had power over the cops.” Kimberly paused, staring at Maggie’s ring. Her fingers twitched toward it, ever so slightly, and then her entire body sagged in defeat. “This isn’t my world,” she said, finally averting her eyes to stare into the middle distance. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved. I should have known better.”

“Yes, you should have.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“To you? Nothing. You’re just a patsy. I recommend that when OtherOps comes by you deny everything. All they have is a single phone call.” The last thing I needed was OtherOps sniffing around Maggie’s ring. I held up the business card between two fingers. “I’m going to find your magician friend and smash his face in. You’re done with this business. You get involved again, and there won’t be any second chances. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good.” I felt a swirl of anger and pity. Someone had gotten to this lady – someone who could convince her that Maggie was a killer. Maybe it was one of my enemies, maybe it was one of Maggie’s, but a magician had tried to use this lady to grab the ring. It made my blood boil. I left before I could get any angrier and got in the car. I leaned the seat back, trying to cool down.

Maggie, do you have any idea what’s going on?

There was a long, terrible silence. I willed her to deny everything. To respond. To make any sort of noise.

It’s true, she finally said.

What’s true? I asked.

Her brother. I killed him, just like she claims. Maggie’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

What the hell? I was blindsided. I couldn’t think through my own confusion. This wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. She might not talk much about her past, but I felt like I’d gotten to know what type of person she was over the last ten years, and I couldn’t even imagine her doing such a thing.

He had the ring before you. He was an amateur magician, and he had an artifact he could use to amplify my power and control it. He thought I was his little genie in a bottle. He thought I was a slave to be used and abused. A snarl entered her tone. One year, during my anniversary, I got him drunk and killed him. I took the ring and hid it. And then you found it.

I was speechless. I definitely didn’t know that she could kill the person who was wearing her ring.

Maggie continued, her voice level again. That woman in there has no idea that her brother was a practitioner or a sleaze. To her, he was just her baby brother; an innocent murdered by an ancient evil. I could sense the belief in her words, feel her grief. She let out a long, trembling sigh. God damn it. How is he still alive? Why did he bring her into it?

Wait, who is still alive? I thought you killed him.

Not my last ring bearer, Matthias – the asshole magician who put me in here. He’s still alive, and now he’s trying to get my ring back. Damn it! I’m not going to let him hurt you or take my ring. Alek, you’ve got to get me out of here.

I sat in a deli on the east side, a half-eaten Reuben in front of me, my appetite gone after my confrontation with Kimberly. Maggie hadn’t spoken since, and I didn’t know what to say to her. I always knew she was powerful, of course, but the idea that she could kill the person who carried her ring terrified me. I became aware of a complacency that I didn’t even know was there; I felt like a fool for being fast, loose, and friendly with an ancient creature from the Other.

It also meant that I was now part of whatever game this Matthias was playing. To come after her, he would have to go through me. Maggie was still my best friend. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I would have liked the opportunity to make that choice for myself.

I looked up as the diner doorbell rang, and Ferryman strolled inside. He walked over, paused dramatically, and looked at me over a pair of sunglasses. He took a long drag from his cigarette and crushed it out under his boot, then dropped into the seat across the table.

“You have a pep in your step today,” I said.

He grinned. “Everything is how it should be – the souls are recovered; no more shades are dying; my realm has stabilized; your boss is paid; and the Lords of Hell are happy to have their property back.”

I took a bite of my Reuben even though I didn’t want to. After I swallowed, I said, “I appreciate you telling Ada to give me bank holidays off. It might sound dumb, but… I really do appreciate it.”

“It was nothing. Consider it a tip.”

I hesitated. “I thought we had arranged something else as a tip.”

“Indeed we had. I am a man of my word, after all.” Ferryman rotated his fingers, and one of his business cards appeared between them. He rotated the fingers of the other hand to produce a pen. He clicked it once and scribbled something on the card before pushing it over to me.

I looked down. “Magnus and Anita Johnson,” I read aloud. Saying the names seemed to bring a hush over my body, every muscle frozen as if they were holy – or unholy – things. “Do you have anything else?” I asked.

Ferryman tapped the side of his nose. “The agreed price was two names.”

“Johnson is the most common name in the country,” I said.

“Second-most common name,” Ferryman corrected.

“Are they dead?”

Ferryman considered the question for a moment. “I appreciate everything you did – the risk you took – but you must understand that I, above all Others, am restricted in how I can interact with your world. I’ve given you two names. One of them has passed through my realm. I can say no more.”

“Well,” I said, looking down at the names. Which of them was still alive, and which had passed on? I’d have to figure that out on my own. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “Thanks?”