“If it’s any consolation, Gardner said that she’s really pleased with your contributions to the team. If we’re successful tomorrow, it will ensure the MEA giving the green light on us having a more permanent presence in the Cauldron. And that would mean a spot for you, too. Isn’t that what you want?”
“Of course that’s what I want,” I said, raising my hands. “But how would you feel if the MEA required you to do something you didn’t feel comfortable with to get the job done?”
He laughed as if I’d made a joke. “Sooner or later, we’re all asked to do something we don’t want to do, Cupcake.” His ironic tone hinted it was a more common than an every-now-and-then thing. “Why did you become a cop?”
I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, just walking away from your coven would have been enough. But you walked away and became a cop. Why?”
I wasn’t about to get into my mother’s death or how being a cop was a form of penance, so I just shrugged. “I guess I thought I’d see how the other half lived.”
He shot me a look that told me bullshit wasn’t going to cut it.
I sighed. “Fine. I decided to go to the academy because after so many years of being part of the problem I guess I wanted to make a difference.”
“Did you feel like you were making a difference on patrol?”
“Not enough of one,” I said honestly. He’d smell the lie anyway. “That’s why I talked my way onto the task force.”
“Because you wanted to go after the source of the magic?”
I nodded.
“Well, this is your chance. Do you really want to blow it because you’re afraid to wear a stupid protection patch?”
I raised my chin. “I’m not afraid.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I almost believed it, too. “I’m just worried it’s a slippery slope. Today it’s a simple protection spell. What about next month when Gardner wants me to go undercover and I have to use a glamour potion? Or next year when she asks me to cook because Mez needs help?”
“You’ll have to take it as it comes, I guess,” he said. “For the record, I think you’re making a mistake if you walk away from this. You’re a good cop, and anyone can tell how much you care about this city. Don’t let your pride stop you.”
I crossed my arms and chewed on my bottom lip, thinking it over. If I said no, I’d be put back on patrol once the paperwork clearing me of the Harkins shooting came through. That would mean endless nights trolling the streets for low-level pushers while wizards like Bane and Volos got away with murder—both figuratively and literally. Was I really willing to walk away from the real game? Go back to arresting the same junkies over and over while the real criminals lived it up?
I stood straighter. “No,” I said. Morales’s eyebrows slammed down and disappointment washed over his face. I held up a hand. “No, I’m not going to walk away. I’ll wear the patch. Just this once.”
A brilliant smile lit up his handsome face. “’Atta girl.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I woke up the next morning on a gasp. The dream I’d been having clung to my subconscious with razor claws, but I couldn’t remember the details. All I knew was my skin was coated in sweat and my limbs were sore as if I’d been fighting.
The blue lines on the clock slowly focused to form a seven and two zeroes. I briefly considered trying to go back to sleep, but Danny would be up for school soon and I didn’t want to miss the chance to see him off. With a sigh, I scrubbed my hand over my face and rose to confront the day. I threw on my ratty robe and walked into the kitchen.
Danny wasn’t up yet, so I started pulling out the eggs. As I did, I noticed the pile of mail that I’d tossed on the counter yesterday when I’d arrived with Morales. I flipped through quickly, ignoring the junk mail and bills in favor of a single red envelope, which stuck out from the bottom of the stack like a wound.
It was addressed to Danny in a neat hand. Probably a birthday card. But something about the carefully lettered words made my sensors flare up. I flipped over the card to see the return address and froze. Crowley Penitentiary.
I didn’t hesitate to tear it open. It was a greeting card with a birthday cake on the front. Inside, the preprinted message said simply, “Happy Birthday!” But the handwritten note made my blood go cold.
Danny Boy—
Happy sixteenth birthday! My greatest regret is that I was unable to watch you grow into a man. Maybe one day you can come visit me and we can talk about magic. Has your sister started your lessons? Perhaps not. Regardless, I hope your next year is a good one.
—Uncle Abe
I tore the card up with slow, methodical movements. Tore the pieces so small that even I didn’t recognize the fragments of ink-marked shards as parts of words. Once that was done, I placed the pile at the bottom of the kitchen trash can. Then I gathered the bag, tied it closed, and set it outside the back door.
After washing my hands, I continued to gather the ingredients I needed to make breakfast. The Mundane task felt normal and right. It helped me ignore the nausea in my gut, the residue of fear that Danny might have found that card before I had a chance to dispose of it. But I tried to remind myself that this time, like all the others, I’d managed to keep Danny from knowing that his Uncle Abe had been reaching out to him on his birthday every year for the last ten. And if I had my way, he never would.
Over the years I’d tried to convince myself that I hid the cards to protect Danny. But the truth was, I was also protecting myself. Hatred was an easier emotion to live with than fear. As long as I could keep Abe far from us both physically and emotionally, I could go on loathing him. But if Uncle Abe somehow managed to get a fingerhold in our lives, I would suddenly be thrust from anger’s warm embrace into the frigid waters of fear. Fear that he’d woo Danny into cooking dirty. Fear that he’d take Danny away from me. But most of all, I was afraid that if he came back into my life, he’d be able to pull me back into the place I’d run from all those years ago. Maybe it was silly to credit him with so much power and myself with so little, but it seemed downright stupid to chance it and give him the opportunity to try. So I’d go on intercepting those cards and doing everything in my power to keep him well away from both of us.
By the time Danny joined me, the room was filled with sizzling sounds and the smoky aroma of cooked bacon. His sneakers squeaked against the faded linoleum floor.