Whisper of Shadows (The Diamond City Magic Novels) (3 page)

“Maybe it makes them feel like they’ve worked hard,” Leo said with forced calmness, taking a seat at the bar. “Earned their money. How about another drink for me?” he asked Taylor. “I think I need it.”

“Me, too,” said Jamie, sliding into a seat. Red flags rode high in his cheeks. “Make it quick. They won’t be long.”

The battering ram slammed the door once again. Leo’s jaw tightened, the muscles visibly knotting.

“Another one and they’ll be inside,” Jamie said, taking a strong pull on his drink.

Mel joined them at the bar.

“What do you suppose they want?” Taylor asked as she slid a neat glass of scotch over to Mel. “Think they came because of Dad?”

“Or Price,” I said tightly. “Or me.”

That caught their attention.

“You?” Jamie asked.

Just as I thought—they hadn’t quite gotten around to putting that particular two and two together. “I’ve not exactly been Miss Clean lately,” I said. “You know, interfering in an FBI investigation. A whole lot of breaking and entering. Trespassing. Theft. Consorting with a known Tyet kingpin. Not to mention generally having a magic talent that everybody seems eager to get their hands on, including the cops.” I listed the highlights, but there were a lot more crimes the FBI could scrape up to throw at me, many of which I was actually guilty of.

Mel, Jamie, Leo, and Taylor exchanged looks.

“I don’t like this,” Mel said, the corners of her mouth deepening into a frown.

I hadn’t liked the situation before she said that. But now that she had, my level of apprehension went zooming into the stratosphere.

I didn’t get a chance to wallow in it. Just then the doorjamb finally splintered and the ornate double doors banged against the tables on either side of the entry. Incredibly expensive knickknacks shattered on the marble floor.

Agents dressed in full riot gear and carrying automatic weapons at eye height came thundering into the room and circled around us.

“FBI! Throw down your weapons! Down on the floor, legs crossed, hands behind your back!”

It was surreal. None of us moved.

“Get down on the floor!” a man bellowed again.

Someone grabbed me and jammed their knee behind mine, forcing me down. I landed on my stomach. My chin bounced off the floor. I’d have a bruise later. Price thudded down heavily beside me. In about two seconds, we were both handcuffed.

Pretty quick, the rest of my family joined us, even Mel.

“What the hell is going on?” Leo demanded. “Do you know whose house this is? Mel Hollis is one of your top readers. Your bosses are going to have your asses on a platter.”

Nobody answered. I wasn’t sure they were required to. Legally, I had no idea what our rights were, except to shut up, and I meant to do that. Besides, my experience with cops of all stripes said that they didn’t feel bound by the law. If it got in their way, they’d mow it down and stomp it into an early grave. Finding an uncorrupt cop in Diamond City was a lot like finding a four-leaf clover in the desert.

“Don’t say anything,” Price said to me. His face was scary. I’d seen him go all stone-cold dangerous before, but this face was a new level of stone. “If we’re separated, go get Gregg. Promise.”

Luckily, I was saved from an answer by someone kicking at our feet. “Shut the fuck up. No one talks. You’ve a right to remain silent, so do it.”

Well, that was one way to handle suspects. The question was, what did they suspect us of?

Abruptly, someone grabbed Price’s collar and yanked him up off the floor.

“Get him in the van,” a man growled. I could smell the stench of stale cigarette smoke emanating off him.

“What about the rest of them?” A woman this time.

“Talk to Vilcott. Clayton Price is the one we were sent for. Now, move.”

“I want to see your warrant,” Mel declared.

Paper rustled. I heard the rev of an engine, and a vehicle drove away. A minute or two passed. They felt like years. Finally Mel spoke.

“The warrant’s in order.”

Panic twisted my gut. Even though I’d known he could be a target, I hadn’t really thought they’d come for Price. Deep down, I thought they were after my dad. It seemed logical, given the timing. What did they want with Price? I forced myself to lie still even as adrenaline surged through me, demanding that I
do
something.

“You got what you wanted. Release us and get off my property. Now.” Mel’s voice was cutting. “If you don’t move your asses in the next ten seconds, I’ll have your badges. And trust me, I can do it.”

Her threat was met with silence, then I heard the sound of someone moving and the clicking of her handcuffs coming off. She stood up, and a second later I heard her talk into her phone.

“Give me Director Erickson, please. Tell him Melanie Hollis is calling. It’s urgent.”

More sounds of movement and clicking. At the same time, I felt the binders go down. I guess we weren’t a threat anymore. I was released last. A pair of boots settled on either side of me as a man bent down to unlock the handcuffs. The choking scent of stale cigarettes let me know just who he was. He twisted the cuffs and yanked, bruising me in the process. I made no sound, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt me.

“Director, are you aware that your agents just broke down my door? They didn’t bother to knock.”

I sprang to my feet, shoving against the asshole agent who’d freed me. He fell back a step. Swearing, he raised a hand to hit me. It never landed. His gun dissolved, along with every other bit of metal he was wearing or carrying. It flowed together into a thin cage around his hand that circled his waist so he couldn’t move his arm.

“What the hell?” he said.

“You don’t touch her,” Jamie growled, his face gone feral.

“You’ve assaulted an agent. Your ass is going to jail,” cigarette man snarled back.

“Not today,” Jamie said. “You and your asshole crew are leaving. Without any of us.”

“Fuck you.”

“Director Erickson wants a word with you,” Mel said, extending her phone so that the trussed agent could take it in his free hand.

For a moment he didn’t move, then he took it, holding it to his ear. “Who is this?”

He listened as the director spoke. Yelled, really, though I couldn’t make out the words. I glanced around. The other agents were equally trussed up. A really good use for their guns. They waited in hot silence for the phone call to end.

Finally, stinky cigarette man handed back Mel’s cell phone. His lips curled back, his eyes hardening into chunks of ice. “I apologize for the damage we caused in executing our legal warrant,” he said, spitting each word like it stung his tongue. “The FBI will compensate you for repairs. We will now be on our way.” He glared at Jamie.

The metal cage around his hand dissolved, but the band wrapping his waist remained. It tightened so that the agent would have to cut it off. One by one, the other agents were released, each retaining part of their shackles. A spiteful reminder from my brothers not to fuck with our family.

They all went to the door. Cigarette man paused, turning as the others went down the steps and got into the vehicle. “This isn’t over,” he said.

“You’re damned right it’s not,” Jamie retorted. “Don’t forget it.”

The agent gave a thin smile. “See you soon.” With that, he trotted out the door, and a moment later, the squad of vehicles retreated off our property.

“Can you help Price?” I asked Mel.

“I’ll try,” she said, dialing her phone again.

“What about you two?” I asked Jamie and Leo.

They both shook their heads.

“Maybe if he was closer,” Leo said.

“Maybe if he wasn’t moving,” Jamie said at the same time.

In close distances, they could work metal without having to touch it, or have some physical connection. Long distances, they at least had to be able to find a conduit to the metal they wanted to work. The rubber in the tires provided insulation from their touch. On top of that, moving targets were almost impossible to hit.

Everything inside me told me to go after him. He’d told me to call his brother and leave everything in Touray’s hands, but I couldn’t. I needed to go be with him. At least provide moral support. Maybe I could find out some detail that would help free him. Like the actual charges against him. I’d call Touray on the way.

“I’m going after him,” I declared, heading for the door. I stopped short. Price had the keys to our car. I took a breath. That was okay. We had our bodyguards out there. Not that they’d been much use. But then again, going to war with the FBI was in no one’s best interests. Likely they were already on the phone to Touray.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Taylor said, seeming to read my mind. “I’ll grab my coat and keys.”

“Wait, Riley,” Mel said, then spoke into her phone, “get back to me as soon as you can. I need all the details you can find.” She hung up the phone. “We all need to talk. Now.”

She turned and walked away. Jamie, Taylor, and Leo looked at her and then at me, and went after her. I hesitated before following. Mel led us into a small sitting room, shutting the door after we filed in. It was deliciously warm inside. I hadn’t realized how cold it had been out front with the door kicked in.

“Price has been arrested pursuant to the Magical Crimes Act,” Mel announced abruptly.

We stared at her a moment, each of us trying to remember the details of the law and what exactly Price’s crime could be.

“I don’t get it,” Leo said, shaking his head.

I was impatient. “Okay, so he’s a part of his brother’s Tyet organization. He’s connected to some serious magic. This has to be their way of getting at Touray.”

Mel gave me an unreadable look. “Sit down. All of you. This is important. It affects all of you. All of us. Well, Taylor only indirectly, of course.”

“Of course,” Taylor muttered and went to sit, crossing her legs and arms. “I’m all ears.”

I perched on the arm of the couch, while Leo and Jamie settled on the couch.

Mel gave a little sigh. “I’m going to give you all the short and dirty version of the Rice Act. You probably know some of it, but bear with me. It matters.

“Senator Rice, from Tennessee, has strong religious values. Like a lot of people, that means that he thinks the magically talented are nothing more than demons, abominations made by Satan, and not quite human. So fifteen years ago, when he was fairly new to office, he made a stink over the talented having the ability to skirt and entirely evade the law through magic. Whether by changing a person’s mind—literally—or perhaps destroying all the evidence through magical means, or any number of schemes. Anyhow, he argued that the talented had an unfair social advantage and that the law should offer equal protection to all citizens.

“The first Rice Act went through minus his major cornerstone, which would have stripped most legal protections from the talented. Undaunted, he’s continued to press for tighter restrictions. Then about five years ago, when the Congress last leaned conservatively, he proposed an amendment to account for the difficulty in prosecuting magical crimes. It opened the door to give law enforcement wider leeway in their investigations. That amendment also incorporated elements of the RICO laws and Hobbs law. It was wide ranging and encroached on people’s constitutional rights, so eventually the amendment was trimmed back before it passed.

“Again, Senator Rice counted it a victory, but was determined to keep chipping away at the resistance to his legislation in the name of homeland security. After the attack in Florida on the theme park there—a practical joke, according to the perpetrators, albeit a horrifying one resulting in four dead children—Rice succeeded in passing the cornerstone he’d failed to get through Congress before. The amendment took effect two months ago.”

Mel looked at us expectantly. Two months ago was right about when my life had really hit the fan. I’d found myself in over my head with Price and rescuing Taylor’s then-boyfriend, Josh. Since then, I’d barely had a moment to think, much less keep up with the news. I had no idea what Mel was getting at.

Taylor leaned forward, her head cocked, her eyes narrowed. “All right. But Price has no talent. So how does this apply to him?”

Mel grimaced. “
That
is the twenty-four-dollar question. I don’t know.”

“Unless he does have a talent,” Jamie suggested.

“Never saw any of any hint of it when we went after that scumbag Caldwell. What about you, Riley?” Leo asked. “Does Price have some sort of secret talent after all?”

“No!” I burst out, shoving to my feet. “Of course he doesn’t. He’s as mundane as Taylor.” I drew a calming breath and let it out, making myself calm down. Slowly, I said, “I’ve been fairly busy the past couple months or so. Can you all tell me exactly what I’m missing with this Rice Act?”

“Rice changed the basic legal rights of someone charged with federal magical crime. Once someone is arrested—and the charges need only be approved by a special star-chamber sort of panel and don’t have to meet the usual levels of proof for the mundanes—the suspect is brought in for interrogation. The feds have seven business days to question the suspect before they are required to continue into full due process. Meaning that for that seven days—plus the weekend—the suspect’s rights are suspended. He can’t have a lawyer. He can’t make a phone call. Worse, the Rice Act says that the feds can use any means deemed ‘reasonably safe and necessary’ to get their answers.”

Jamie chimed in. “That last bit means that so long as they don’t do permanent damage, they can pretty much get away with any sort of torture they like. All in the name of protecting the public.” His disgust was palpable. “Once they get a confession, the suspect goes on trial. You can bet they’ll use every dirty trick they can, including magical methods.”