Legacy of the Mad Mages Page 6

  “How’re your classes? Finish up all your papers and whatnot?” Point asked.

  “Just turned in my last paper the other day, and had my second-to-last exam yesterday, so unless something has gone tragically wrong, I only have my math exam on Monday and I’m all done for the summer. Grades come out in a few weeks, though, and I’m moving out of the dorms and back in with Julia this weekend.”

  “Excellent. So you’ve got some time to spare. I want a list of every possible target for these thieves. I know that’s a pain in the ass assignment, but between you and Shakes, I have confidence that you can manage.” Point pointed at the door in the direction of the stairs. “Now all of you get going. Zanna, go take a nap before you fall over. And call a noise complaint on your neighbors if this keeps up.” He sighed and Caroline could hear the reluctance even in that breathy sound. “Now I have a phone call to make. Never thought I’d miss skulking around cheap dive bars with you, Greg, but damn. I might join you for a drink after this.” He sighed again and picked up the phone as they filed out the door.

  10

  Caroline put the last box down on the floor next to the closet and stretched her back out. Moving sucked, and she’d just as soon never do it again.

  “I don’t see why you had to stay in the dorms this year anyway,” Julia grumbled and flopped backward on Caroline’s bed, her arms stretching loosely toward the pillows. “You should just stay here next year. I’m way more fun than your roommate was.”

  Julia was tall and very blonde thanks to her elven mother, slim and fit thanks to her gym membership, and was wearing grey sweatpants, a baggy concert t-shirt from the early 2000s and a vague air of smudged makeup thanks to a late-night at a club. Caroline’s parents had only met the woman Caroline thought of as Workplace Julia– the very sharp, successful business executive– and as a result, felt that she was a perfectly responsible adult and could be trusted with their daughter.

  They had never met Weekend Julia who knew every club in three states and had a love of just having fun. Not that Julia was ever wildly irresponsible, but she wasn’t quite as straight-laced as expected at a first, weekday glance, and Caroline thought of her more like an older sister figure than anything else since she kept trying to set Caroline up with dates or send her out to parties.

  And, of course, Caroline’s parents had never met Peaches, the hand-to-hand combat trainer at the Agency, either. Sweet as his name implied, Peaches was the last person you ever wanted to come after you in a fight. Caroline had a brief mental image of Peaches and Julia dating and wasn’t sure if she was terrified or relieved at the idea.

  “You are definitely more fun than Rebecca was, but I think I needed the experience of living on campus,” Caroline flopped down to sit on the bed next to her landlady-slash-roommate. “But I think I will consider staying next year. I loathe moving.”

  “Ugh, no kidding,” Julia groaned in sympathy. Caroline’s bedroom in Julia’s condo was cozy but felt cluttered with all the boxes from her dorm room. She needed to sort through them and put her books back on the shelves, and the clothes back in her closet. All the knickknacks and stuff she’d collected over the year were in the box next to her foot and she nudged it open and Julia rolled her head over to inspect the contents without actually moving.

  “Is that a new hoodie?”

  Caroline smiled and picked up the jacket in question. “Not really. Lucas lent it to me last fall and never got it back before he disappeared after that human trafficking case. I just kind of kept it.”

  Julia grinned wickedly. “Lucas is the hot bad boy, right? The one you think is skirting the law, but is really a good guy, especially shown by the fact that he gave you his hoodie when you were cold and helped you take down those kidnappers?” Julia waggled her eyebrows, and Caroline only roll her eyes. The modern-day Robin Hood to your Maid Marian?"

  “What? Ugh. Julia, he’s the guy from the human trafficking case. Like I just said,” Caroline scowled at the box she was rummaging through and avoided even looking in Julia's direction

  Julia sat up and waggled her eyebrows again. “Have you called him lately? Maybe he’s in town for some hijinks and can make some time for you.”

  "I've emailed him a couple of times," she shrugged. In fact, she emailed him every few weeks, and he answered her more often than not. Just chatty random stuff, short notes. The longer one about Greg from the other day had made her nervous though.

  Caroline shoved Julia and laughed. She grabbed the hoodie and slung it over the back of her desk chair and swore that she wouldn’t tell Julia that she liked to snuggle in it while working.

  “Hey, any luck with the robbery case?” Julia asked, pausing on her way to the door. “You haven’t talked much about it and that’s usually a bad sign. When everything’s going right you tell me all about whatever you’re in trouble for this time.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me. Darien, Greg, and Zanna get to go out to bars and have a little fun while listening for rumors about the guy we’re looking for, and I get to sit at my computer and track down any possible targets in four states. Shakes has set up a search program or something to do the same thing, but it’s still a ridiculously big job and Point wants it done, like, yesterday.”

  Julia scrunched up her delicate features and pulled a face Caroline didn’t know she was capable of. “That sucks. You should get to do the fun stuff, too!”

  “Yeah, well. Being only nineteen kind of puts a damper on hanging out in bars.” Caroline shrugged.

  Julia scoffed and shook her head. She was muttering on her way out the door about Point, and rule-following bosses, and other such things. Caroline just laughed. Opening a box of books she started the tedious job of unpacking.

  Lucas,

  I moved out of the dorms this morning and I think I’m just staying here with Julia next year. Moving has got to be one of the major punishments in Hell, I’m certain of it. It’s actually got a close second in trying to find other possible targets for this stupid theft ring.

  Anyway, while I was unpacking I found your hoodie, in case you’ve ever looked for it. You left it with me back in the fall. I’ll keep it handy if you ever swing back through town. Drop me a line sometime if you do!

  -C

  There. That was pretty reasonable, right? She let the cursor hover over the ‘send’ button, unsure. Ever since Julia had gotten on her case about the man who was probably a thief himself— if she was being completely honest with herself about it— Caroline hadn’t been able to stop wondering what Lucas was doing.

  “Hey, C. What’re you up to?”

  Caroline squeaked and flinched, sending the email in classic sitcom style.

  “Dammit Darien, keep your damned vampire sneaking garbage to your stakeouts!” She groaned at him. Darien just grinned.

  “Now I really want to know what you were doing,” he laughed. “I wasn’t sneaking at all, though I’ll grant it’s hard to tell over the bullpen noise.” He put a cardboard cup of coffee down on her desk by her elbow.

  “Thanks,” She picked up the cup and sighed while he settled at his own desk. He shrugged out of his leather jacket and rolled up the sleeves on his button-down shirt before picking his own coffee back up and looked back up at her, eyebrows raised in nosy inquiry.

  “I was emailing Lucas if you must know. I found his hoodie in my stuff when I moved.”

  “Don’t even pretend. You’ve known where that thing was since the day he left it behind,” Darien’s smile faded, replaced slowly by a small frown. “I know he was a big help on that case, but I still don’t trust him. Shakes checked him out pretty thoroughly, but didn’t come up with so much as an outstanding parking ticket.”

  “So… he’s a decent, law-abiding citizen and, what? That’s why you don’t trust him?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. He didn’t have to tell her that he didn’t trust Lucas. It was communicated clearly to her with every word Darien spoke.

  “Look,” Darien sighed and ran his free hand through hi
s hair. “I never got to meet the guy, but he was clearly not your average, law-abiding citizen.” Darien used his free hand again to make air quotes as he spoke. “I just don’t want to see you get taken in by a con artist because you think he’s cute and he helped you out once.”

  “I sincerely doubt that someone who put himself in danger to help take down a human trafficking ring is such a terrible bad guy.” Caroline turned back to her own computer and clicked out of her email program to open up the case file and see if the adults added anything useful to it last night.

  “Caroline, that’s not what I—”

  “Good morning!” Greg pulled his chair over and plopped into it, his new mug full of what looked like coffee and whipped cream.

  “What on earth is that?” Darien peered at the big man.

  “It’s a mocha! I brought in a can of whipped cream just for this, now that I have a real mug to drink out of!” He carefully turned the cup in his hands so the glittery writing was aimed at Darien. “Come on man, take some advice from the nice mug! I was up late last night!”

  “Looks like you’re the only one who didn’t add a report last night. D and Zanna struck out, and Zanna got into an altercation when some drunk didn’t like her cold shoulder, so she’ll be in a little late she says.”

  “I’m kind of worried about the other guy, actually,” Darien said dryly.

  “Yeah, well. She’s not likely to put a normal human into traction unless he really tried to attack her, so, I’d wait till she tells us what happened to make a judgment,” Caroline said. “Now, Greg. What haven’t you written up in your report yet?”

  Greg groaned and scrunched his face up. “Nothing useful, really. I heard about another bar I’m going to check out later today, but otherwise nothing of use.”

  “Well, it looks like it’s a day of paperwork, old-fashioned computer work, and seeing if Zanna is going to be dodging assault charges.” Darien shrugged and booted up his computer. Greg groaned again and glanced sadly at Caroline before returning to his own desk. Caroline turned back to her own search for other possible targets and tried not to worry about whether or not Lucas had already seen the email.

  11

  “I don’t want to go in and chat with my advisor!” Caroline wasn’t used to whining anymore, but she felt like it wasn’t the worst moment for it, just now. She re-read the damn email, but nothing about it changed.

  “What’s up, Sunshine?” Darien asked, leaning back from his chair.

  “Apparently there’s some sort of problem with my schedule for next semester and I have to go in and talk about it.” Caroline knew she was pouting, but the last thing she wanted to do with her day was to spend it sitting in the freaking registrar’s office, even though the only thing she had to do here was more mind-numbing sorting through various artifacts in various museums, libraries, public buildings, and known private collections. She scrunched up her face and hit the ‘reply’ button, and started typing.

  It had been almost a full five days of slogging through the results that Shakes’ search program turned up, sorting the results into ‘likely target,’ ‘possible target,’ and ‘not likely’ piles. She felt like she knew enough now about the Mad Mage Wars— both the true history and the cover story version— to be able to teach a whole class on it herself.

  The honest truth was that she was heartsick at the truth of what happened, horrified that people could treat each other like that and feel like they were justified in it. It was the same story, over and over, through so much of the history of sentient creatures on this planet, and it was almost enough to make Caroline lose her faith in other people. It truly was a lack of empathy that was the common thread running through all evil.

  She glanced over at Greg and grimaced. Her sweet, cheerful friend had been through the worst sort of childhood. Born in a lab after what was apparently a long, drawn-out, magic-infused artificial insemination project, Greg was raised for almost ten years in a prison lab and experimented on until he was rescued by the FPAA during a raid. Unfortunately, during that raid, the woman who had carried him as a baby and raised him in their cell had been shot by one of the lab’s guards during the confusion. She died protecting Greg’s life.

  It was exactly the sort of experience that all too many paranormals had at the hands of the Order of Hazel mage sect, the arrogant jerks believing that only humans and elves were worthy of being treated like people. Greg, as a manticore, was not only sub-human by their creed but was no more than a weaponized pet, like a guard dog.

  Caroline looked around the bullpen and noted how many of her colleagues, her friends, would have been locked in cages if the Order of Hazel’s mages had won. It was an easy three-quarters of the room at the moment: good people that simply weren’t human or elf. She couldn’t fault them for wanting to keep the general public unaware of their existence. Mad Mages was too polite an epithet for them.

  “Caroline. Hey! Caroline!” Darien’s voice broke through her thoughts and she blinked back into the present moment.

  “Sorry. I got lost in my own head for a minute.” She shivered, trying to shake off the bad mood.

  “I could tell. Your eyes sort of glazed over and you were staring at Greg. Everything okay? It can’t be just the schedule thing at school.” Darien leaned forward and started to say something when Greg himself rushed over to their desks.

  “Guys, that call was from police dispatch. They got an anonymous call reporting some strange behavior. The caller said that they were creeped out by all the doll heads lined up on the guy’s shelf when he delivered a heavy package of enchanting supplies, and the guy asked him to carry them to his workroom. He didn't want to give his name or any details and got really squirrelly, but he was adamant that someone ought to check it out.”

  “If he told the emergency operator what he does, that’s not a good way to stay an anonymous delivery boy,” Caroline said.

  "Apparently he sounded pretty high but was also pretty coherent. His story didn't change over several repeats, so they figured it was at least worth passing on," Greg shrugged. “I suspect that he’s a street kid running illegal or borderline supplies to shady mages. I’d be shocked if half his deliveries weren’t drugs.”

  “Like I said, telling them what he does isn’t a good way to stay in the shadows. I hope he doesn’t get in worse trouble for calling the cops on one of his clients.”

  “Not much we can do about it unless he comes in for protection. Sad facts of life, I’m afraid. Where is this guy?” Darien asked.

  “Blacksburg, apparently.” Greg looked between them. “Well? Either of you want to go with me to check this out? Whether he’s our guy or not he’s sketchy enough to make the borderline-legal delivery boy nervous, so he needs to get looked into anyway.”

  “Sure. Let’s go. Sunshine. You have time, or do you have to go see your advisor?” Darien stood up and shoved an arm into his sleeve, the leather creaking softly.

  “Ugh, don’t remind me I have to deal with that. I have an appointment tomorrow, though.” Caroline stood and grabbed her bag. “I’d much rather check out shady mages in sketchy areas than deal with university admin crap today. Let’s go.”

  The neighborhood was definitely run down when they got there, but not sketchy at all. It was a lower-income working-class neighborhood full of houses that were neatly kept but could use a coat of paint, or a small repair or two, but generally had a friendly, lived-in feeling to it. The four of them drove carefully down the street, smiling at the teenager walking four dogs and the old man sitting in the sunshine on his stoop with a pair of gardening gloves on his knee and a cup of something in his hand, and parked at the curb. It was early afternoon and the air was full of the promise of a Virginia summer. That is to say, it was hot, but not yet uncomfortably so, and it was humid, but not yet soupy.

  “So,” Greg said, clapping his hands together cheerfully. “How do we want to do this?”

  Darien glanced at the house in question. It was a low, one-story place t
hat looked like the ground sloped downward, back past the privacy fence. It might actually have a lower floor in the back with a livable basement. The place was a bit more shabby than its neighbors. Some of the siding was flapping at the corner and needed to be tacked back down or replaced. There were a couple of shingles missing on that corner of the roof as well. The lawn needed mowing.

  “I’d say you and Caroline take the front. You’re big and can be intimidating if the guy gets aggressive, but don’t come off that way at first, and she’s not intimidating on the surface either. If you can charm your way inside instead of things getting nasty here in front, that’s definitely preferable,” Darien said after a moment of thought. “Zanna and I will take the back door to make sure he doesn’t run.”

  “And the local cops are aware we’re here? If it goes bad?” Caroline asked. She and Darien had spent a few hours in the holding cells of a small town in Tennessee before the local cops there finally understood the downsides to arresting federal agents for doing their job.

  “They not only know, but they’re in the neighborhood to provide backup if we need it. They have some techs that are qualified to collect magical evidence if we need them, and Mitch isn’t far behind us to supervise them once we have the scene secured. If it turns out to be a wild goose chase, well. We’ll treat Mitch to lunch and maybe he won’t be too grumpy about it.”

  “At least it’s a nice day outside, and the drive wasn’t too bad.” Greg grinned and clapped a hand onto Caroline’s shoulder. “We’ll wait a minute for you to get into position.”

  “Good luck.” Zanna nodded at Caroline as she passed, following Darien to the gate in the fence.

  “Hope there’s no dogs back there or anything,” she said.