***
We walked to the edge of the parking lot. The skeletal remains of a building rose from a vacant slab of land at least the size of a city block. Scrubby trees, half-demolished walls, piles of broken concrete, ripped-open trash bags, discarded tires, and broken furniture cluttered the landscape. I bent to lift a sodden sheet of cardboard draped over a large lump. Troy kicked a syringe out of the way and grabbed my hand.
"Not a good idea," he said. "Better use a stick."
I peered across the field, in one glance picking out a score of places where Jacob could lie low and wait for help.
"Should we try calling him?" I asked.
Troy shook his head. "Might attract the wrong kind of attention. Jacob knows me, but he's a smart kid. If he's hiding out here, he's not going to answer us until he sees my face."
Though none of us said it, there was another reason for not just calling his name and moving on. He could be injured, unable to answer. Or worse.
"The rain is easing and Paige's ball casts sufficient light for us all to search," Lucas said. "I suggest we split up, each taking a ten foot swatch, and make a thorough sweep." He stopped. "Unless . . . Paige? Your sensing spell would be perfect for this."
"A spell?" Troy said. "Great."
"Uh, right. The only problem . . ." I glanced at Troy. "It's a fourth-level spell. Technically, I'm still third-level, so I'm not . . ." God, this stung. "I'm not very good—"
"She's still refining her accuracy," Lucas said. That sounded so much better than what I was going to say. "Could you give it a try?"
I nodded. Lucas motioned for Troy to follow him and start searching, giving me privacy. I closed my eyes, concentrated, and cast.
The moment the words left my mouth, I knew the spell had failed. Most witches wait for results, but my mother had taught me to use my gut instinct, to feel the subtle click of a successful cast. It wasn't easy. To me, intuition always seems like some flaky New Age thing. My brain seeks the logic in patterns; it looks for clear, decisive results. As I move into harder spells, though, I've been forcing myself to develop that inner sense. Otherwise, with the sensing spell, if I didn't detect a presence, I wouldn't know whether it was because no one was there or because the spell had failed.
I recast. The click followed, almost as a subconscious sigh of relief. Now came the tough part. With a spell like this, I couldn't just cast it and leave it on, like the light-ball. I needed to sustain it, and that took concentration. I held myself still and focused on the spell, measuring its strength. It wavered, almost disappeared, then took hold. I resisted the urge to open my eyes. The spell would still work, but I'd rely too much on what I was seeing instead of feeling. I turned slowly, and sensed two presences. Troy and Lucas. I pinpointed their location, then peeked to double-check. There they were, exactly where I'd sensed them.
"Got it," I said, my voice echoing through the silence.
"Good," Lucas called back as they headed my way.
"So how does this work?" Troy asked.
"If I walk slowly, I should be able to detect anyone within a twenty-foot radius."
"Great."
I inhaled. "Okay, here goes."
I had two choices. Be led around with my eyes closed, like some wack-job spiritualist, or open my eyes and keep my gaze on the ground. Naturally, I went for option two. Anything to avoid looking like an idiot.
Lucas and Troy followed. After a few yards, I felt the spell waver. I told my nerves there was no need to panic, no pressure here. They called me a liar, but agreed to fake it for a while. I relaxed and the spell surged to full strength.
Weak presences tickled at the edges of awareness. When I focused on them, they stayed amorphous. Small mammals, probably rats. An image flashed through my mind: a novel a friend and I had "borrowed" from her older brother when we'd been kids. Something about rats going crazy and eating people. There was this one scene with . . . I forced the image back, my gaze skittering across the ground looking for rat turds.
The spell fluttered, but I kept walking. We finished one twenty-foot strip and started up the next. I weaved through a minefield of beer cans and around the black scar of a campfire pit. Then I picked up a presence twice as strong as the others.
"Got something," I said.
I hurried toward the source, climbed over a three-foot wall remnant, and startled a huge gray tabby. The cat hissed and tore off across the field, taking the presence I'd sensed with it. The spell snapped.
"Was that it?" Troy said.
"I can't—" I shot a glare at Lucas. I knew he didn't deserve it, but couldn't help myself. I stamped off to the end of the swath, grabbed a stick, and poked at a pile of rags.
"Paige?" Lucas said, coming up behind me.
"Don't. I know I'm overreacting, but I hate—"
"You didn't fail. The spell was working. You found the cat."
"If I can't tell the difference between a cat and a sixteen-year-old boy, then, no, it's not working. Forget it, okay? I should be looking for Jacob, not field-testing spells."
Lucas moved up behind me, so close I could feel the heat from his body. He dropped his voice to a murmur. "So you uncover a cat or two along the way. Who cares? Troy doesn't know how the spell's supposed to work. We have a lot of ground to cover."
Too much ground. We'd been here at least thirty minutes and barely searched a thousand square feet. I thought of Jacob being out there, waiting for rescue. What if it was Savannah? Would I be plodding through the field, bitching at Lucas then?
"Can you guys keep up the manual search?" I whispered so Troy couldn't overhear. "I don't want . . . I don't want you relying on my spell."
"That's fine. We'll cover ground faster that way. We have my light spell, as poor as it is. You take yours, go to the opposite side of the field, and start there."
I nodded, touched his arm in apology, and headed off with my light-ball trailing after me.
This time the sensing spell worked the first time. Or, I thought it worked, but something was wrong. The moment I cast, I felt a presence, a dozen times stronger than the cat's. I broke the cast, and tried again. Failure, then success. But the presence was still there, down a narrow alley between two buildings. Should I alert Lucas and Troy? And what, drag them over to help me uncover a whole litter of cats? This I could check myself. No sixteen-year-old boy would be scared off by the sight of me.
I ended the sensing spell and directed my light-ball to stay around the building corner. There it would cast a dim glow, enough to see by, but not enough to spook a kid who likely knew little about the supernatural.
I slipped into the alley. The presence had come from a few yards down, along the east side. Less than ten feet away I saw a recessed doorway. That'd be it. I picked my way through the refuse, making as little noise as possible. Beside the doorway, I pressed myself against the wall. A smell wafted past. Cigarette smoke? Before I could process the thought, my body followed through on its original course of action, swinging around the doorway. There, in the shadows, was a teenage boy.
I smiled. Then I saw another boy beside the first, and another behind him. Something rustled behind me. I turned to see my exit blocked by another bandana-wearing teen. He said something in rapid-fire Spanish to his friends. They laughed.
Something told me this wasn't Jacob.
The Local Wildlife
Attitude is everything. Therefore, when faced with four—oh, wait, there's another—five inner-city gang members, the worst thing you can do is turn tail and run. And why should you? Well, the presence of lethal weaponry might answer that question, but that's not how I see it. These are kids, right? People, just like everyone else. As such, they could be reasoned with, so long as one took the right stance. Firm, but polite. Assertive, but respectful. I had every right to be here, and furthermore, I had good cause. A cause that they might be able to assist.
"Hello," I said, standing tall and looking up to meet the eyes of the one I assumed was the leader. "I'm sorry to disturb you. I'm looking for a teenage boy who went missing around here. Have you seen him?"
For a moment, they just stared at me.
"Yeah?" one in the back said finally. "Well, we're looking for some money. Have you seen any? Maybe in your purse?"
A round of snickers. I turned to the speaker.
"As you've probably noticed, I'm not carrying a purse. I—"
"No purse?" He turned to his friends. "I think she is hiding it, under her shirt. Two big purses." He made the universal male gesture for large breasts.
I waited through the inevitable guffaws and resisted the urge to tell them that, as boob jokes went, this was one of the lamer ones I'd heard.
"He's sixteen," I said. "Tall. Dark hair. White. Someone was chasing him. He may be hurt."
"If we saw him, he would be hurt. No one comes here and just walks out again." He met my gaze. "No one."
"Ah," a voice said behind us. "Well, perhaps this evening you gentlemen could make an exception." Lucas took my arm. "We apologize for the misunderstanding. Please excuse us."
The thug behind me stepped up to Lucas and flicked open a switchblade, keeping the knife down at his side, a covert threat.
"Nice suit,
pocho
," he said, then dropped his gaze over my skirt and blouse. "Where did you two come from? The fucking mission?"
"Out of town, actually," Lucas said. "Now, if you'll excuse us—"
"When we're done," the knife-thug said. "And we aren't done."
He smirked at me and reached out his free hand toward my breast. I started murmuring a binding spell, but before I could cast it, Lucas lifted his hand and blocked the youth's.
"Please don't do that," Lucas said.
"Yeah, and who's gonna stop me?"
"I am," a voice rumbled.
Everyone looked up—way up—to see Troy. He plucked the knife from the thug's hand.
"The mission bodyguard," I said. "Sorry, guys, but we have work to do. Thanks for your cooperation, and don't stay out too late. It's a school night."
A chorus of muttered Spanish, none of it complimentary I'm sure, followed us from the alley, but the kids stayed in their doorway.
When we were out of earshot, Lucas glanced over at Troy.
"You realize, of course, that you robbed me of a rare opportunity to display my martial prowess, and win untold weeks of feminine appreciation."
"Sorry 'bout that."
I grinned and squeezed Lucas's arm. "Don't worry. I know you were mere milliseconds from blasting them with an energy-bolt spell."
"Absolutely." He glanced over his shoulder at Troy. "You'll have to forgive Paige's overenthusiastic attempt to befriend the local wildlife. Not many of their type where she comes from."
"Hey, we have gangs in Boston."
"Ah, yes. I believe they're particularly bad down by the wharf, where they're liable to descend upon the unwary, surround him with their yachts, and shout well-chosen and elegantly elocuted epithets."
Troy laughed.
Lucas continued, "When dealing with gang members, Paige, it's best to treat them as you would a rabid dog. Whenever possible, avoid their territory. If you inadvertently run into one, avoid eye contact, back away slowly . . . then blast them with a good energy bolt."
"Got it."
"Shall we continue—"
Lucas's cell phone beeped. He answered it. Fifteen seconds later, he hung up.
"They found him?" Troy said.
Lucas shook his head. "Just checking in to see if we had."
"Like we wouldn't call if we did." Troy gazed around the field. "Aw, fuck this. He's not here. You know what? I think you're right. I think he's lying low at a buddy's house. Griffin knows all about the other attacks. That's why he gave Jacob the cell phone, and told him to report anything unusual. Jacob probably spotted one of the neighborhood bad boys, panicked, and phoned it in. Then he felt stupid and took off."
We looked at one another.
"So," I said. "Do you guys want to take the north end again and I'll cover the south?"
They nodded. We were just about to split up when Lucas's phone buzzed. Another brief conversation.
"Griffin showed up in the second sector," Lucas said.
Troy winced. "Oh, shit."
"Precisely. He's making things difficult for the searchers. Unintentionally, of course, but he's quite distraught. They're understandably concerned, considering his abilities."