Page 7 of The Reluctant Incubus
There aren’t many actual magical items in the world. Stryker says they are exceedingly difficult to create and wizards like her have scooped up most of the old ones. The power on this candle is subtle and fading fast, little more than just residue at this point. Even my boss might have missed it. But I can just make out its metallic tang. I can’t really explain why, but it tastes likeconnection, making me think of a door or window, so it’s possible this could have been used as some kind of communication device, at least before its connection was severed.
“You can tell it’s magic?” she says, looking more relieved than surprised.
I nod. “Or at least that it was. It feels broken. Even lit, I don’t think it would work now.”
“Good. I wish I could say I reacted as calmly as you. That I thought before I confronted Emma about it. My parents were religious and I was raised to see witchcraft asevil. When Emma got interested in this stuff, I tried to dismiss any fears I had around it as superstition, but this wasn’t some trick. And there was something about that voice. Smooth, cloying, commanding. There’s no other way to put it—it sounded like the voice of the devil. I immediately blew out the candle, and when Emma got home, I told her she needed to throw it away. The books, the pentagrams, the altar—she needed to throw itallaway!”
“How did she take that?”
“Badly. We fought. Our first real fight in years. She said this was something she needed, that the man was teaching her, that she couldn’tlivewithout magic, and that made me more sure than ever that I had to keep her away from it. She got really upset and then all the pots in the kitchen started to shake and rattle, like something from a movie. It scared me and I—” She brings her fingertips up to her lips in hushed, anguished regret. “I told her she couldn’t stay in our apartment if she was going to keep learning about spells. I thought that would get her to stop, but she wailed like she was in pain and ran out the door. And I didn’t follow. I didn’t go after my baby!” She squeezes her eyes tight and twists her head away, like she can’t even bear to think of it. “That was last Wednesday. The last night I saw her.”
My gut tightens with realization. “Which means she’s been missing for over a week.”
Nicole nods, retrieving the tissue and dabbing the corner of her eyes with it. “About an hour later, once I calmed down, I called her friend. She hadn’t seen her. And Emma wasn’t at school the next day. When I went to thepolice, they took a report, but they say they haven’t found anything. I don’t think they’re looking that hard. They think she’s just a runaway.”
The policearethe experts. The only thing I know about missing persons comes from the used private investigation textbooks I bought from Amazon, and nationwide statistics show that 90% of teenagers who leave voluntarily are back within a month. Considering the circumstances, it makes perfect sense why the police wouldn’t assume foul play, especially of the supernatural kind. I know firsthand from working with Stryker how rare actual paranormal activity really is—reports to the authorities are almost always going to turn out to be something else.
But I can see for myself the candle had real magic. And from what happened in that kitchen, it sounds like Emma might have access to some, too. Mom’s always kept me in the dark about the wider paranormal world, but Stryker has encountered human magic users who exploit regular humans for power. And since access to magicisso rare—that could make a vulnerable teen even more valuable. At least to those who knew what to do with it.
“You said she was taken by monsters…”
She indicates the candle with a meaningful tilt of her head. “There’s a building in our neighborhood. The Benevolent Society of San Cipriano. The police say they’re a Christian charity, but where else would she have gotten this thing? Last night, I went there after work.”
Her fingers nervously twist the wad of tissue. “It was just before dark, and it was full of people. The man I talked to at the door, he wanted me to come in. He said he didn’t recognize my daughter from the picture, butmaybe someone else would. But there was something about the way he looked at me… I don’t know why, but my heart started racing…. I just… I just knew something was wrong!”
“How did he look at you?”
“Like someonehungry.”
A chill flutters through me. “It felt predatory.”
She blanches and nods again, steepling her fingertips in front of her mouth.
“I made some stupid excuse, and once I was out of sight, I ran from that place as fast as I could. I know that sounds insane. Everything I’m saying sounds crazy, even to me. The Benevolent Society’s a religious charity, for God’s sake! It’s been around for years and years. But I could tell that man was lying to me about not recognizing Emma. Just like I knew I had to get away from him as fast as I could.”
A paranormal predator usually doesn’t give a victim a chance to escape before they attack. And if this Benevolent Society were a nest of evil human wizards, there are probably a hundred things they could have done to stop Nicole from getting away, if they really meant her harm. I don’t think she’s making all this up, but a gut feeling from a distraught and exhausted mother isn’t much to go on.
But what if she’s right? No one else is going to believe her. The police sure don’t. And in another few hours, the remaining residue on this candle will be gone. Even if she went to the Feds, without any actual magical evidence, they’d probably just dismiss her, too.
Which leaves me.
Nicole’s phone dimmed but never went to the lockscreen. I glance down at Emma’s broad, freckled face, now in digital shadow. Her vulnerable eyes. You could say they are hungry, too, but it’s not predatory. It’s like she’s desperate for some kind of connection, to be understood. Stryker told me that for those who have access to magic, it doesn’t come naturally, and the call to learn is nearly irresistible. You need training to use it and it’s not like you’re sent an owl or anything. I’ve denied my own power for years, and it’s felt like living half a life. But I was lucky enough to run into someone good. Someone at least open to teaching me—and who wasn’t a predator like my mom.
It looks like Emma was found by someone or something else.
The words are out before I realize it. “I’ll help you.”
“You will?” Her lips part in surprise as she leans forward. “You said you weren’t taking on any new cases.”
“That’s true. But I can look into this ‘Benevolent Society’ on my own time and, if they really are evil magic users, I’ll be able to tell. I won’t be able to fight them or anything—I’m no wizard—but I can certainly gather evidence. Maybe even enough to convince my boss to get involved.” I frown and try to think about what Stryker would do now, if she were taking on this case. She’d probably first want to make sure her client was safe. No point in saving the girl if the monsters get her mom! “Look, uh, do you have a place to stay? Not in your apartment. But somewhere else. Out of town, maybe.”
She sucks in a breath. “You think I’m in danger?”
“It’s just a precaution. Maybe these Benevolent Society folks really are just philanthropists. But in case they’re not,I don’t want you anywhere they can find you. At least until Ms. Stryker gets back.”
Her teeth worry the bottom part of her lip as she considers. “I have a friend in Daly City. He has a spare bedroom.”
“Good. I want you to go straight there. Don’t even stop at your apartment, and I’ll see what I can find out. I promise I’ll do my best.” I hand her phone back to her. “Leave me your contact information and I’ll get back to you one way or the other in the next couple days, all right?”
