“That’s too bad.” He took a too-casual sip from his can of Excalibur, the most popular brand of energy potion.
I frowned up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “Just figured you’d feel at home down there with all the other Sinisters.”
Sinister was derogatory slang for someone born with a genetic predisposition to do magic. A lot of cops didn’t trust any Adepts, period, because they didn’t believe anyone could wield magic without being corrupted by its power. Plus, since laws made any evidence gathered through arcane means inadmissible in court, a lot of cops didn’t want any Adepts on their teams because they didn’t trust us to do things by the book. Therefore, as an Adept cop who had grown up in a coven led by a known criminal mastermind, I was doubly damned in the eyes of bigots like Hanson. So I’d gotten used to being called everything from “Lefty” to the middle-of-the-road “Gauche” to my personal favorite, “Freakshow.”
I pinned him with a pitying glare. “That the best you got?”
His eye flared at the challenge. “No, this is.” His hand cupped his balls.
“According to Alice in Dispatch”—I lowered my gaze to his crotch and winced—“there ain’t much magical about that wand.”
In addition to being a prejudiced dick, Hanson also had a fetish for Adept chicks like Alice. He’d never hit on me, which told me he had either some sort of intelligence or at least a healthy sense of self-preservation.
His face went pale and then flared red. Heavy silence loomed in the background where the peanut gallery looked on.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m kind of in the middle of something.” I turned back to the window and dismissed him altogether.
“Bitch,” he muttered and stormed away.
Inside the office, Gardner was standing with her back to the window. Her shoulders and head obscured my view of the captain’s face. Whatever was being said, it was clear they were wrapping up.
A loud racket behind me sounded like Hanson kicking a chair. I was saved from having to turn and face the disapproving looks of my colleagues when Gardner opened the door. She walked out without sparing me a glance. I rose slowly, watching her go. I wanted to call out and ask what was going on, but pride prevented it. I did, however, notice a thick folder tucked under her arm.
Eldritch came to the door. “Prosper—” The yell cut off when he saw me standing ten feet away. He shot me a look dripping in annoyance. “Come on.”
When I walked in, Eldritch’s expression gave me nothing to go on.
“Well?” I demanded, watching him for any hint of what was coming.
He blew out a breath and tossed a pen on his desktop. “She said she’d be in touch.”
My mouth fell open. “That’s it?”
He nodded and dropped into his chair. The overtaxed vinyl sighed in resignation.
“Was that my file she had?” I asked.
“I gave her the down and dirty, but she wanted time to review your performance records.”
I chewed on my lip. My record was pretty good despite the lack of promotions, so that wasn’t my concern. Instead, it was the background search she’d also find in there. “You told her about … everything?”
He took a sip of cold coffee and nodded. “Yep,” he said after he swallowed.
“And?”
He looked up with a warning glance. “And what, Officer?”
I relaxed my tense shoulders and tried to look contrite. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m just trying to figure out if I have a chance at the task force.”
He grimaced and sat back in his chair. “If it makes you feel better, she didn’t seem scandalized that you’re related to half the coven members in the Cauldron.”
I let out a relieved breath.
“But,” he continued, “I also told her you’re a pain in the ass.”
I tilted my head but didn’t take the bait. “I doubt that scandalized her, either.”
“True enough.” Eldritch chuckled, but then he blew out a deep breath. “You want my advice?”
I didn’t but nodded anyway.
“Go home and get some rest. You look like hell.”
Chapter Three
Tinny music and rapid beeping greeted me the next morning when I stumbled into the kitchen. The morning news droned from the small countertop TV near the fridge. Danny didn’t look up from his battle against zombies or mutant ninjas or whatever foe the kids were killing these days. A snack cake hung from his lips and an open soda on the table revealed his idea of a nutritious breakfast.
“We’re out of milk,” he murmured around the mouthful of refined sugar.
“Good morning to you, too, Sunshine.” Opening the fridge, I removed the carton of milk I’d grabbed on my way home from the precinct the night before. My hand slammed it on the table next to his soda, and my hip shoved his dirty gym shoes to the floor. “And how many times have I told you shoes don’t belong on the table?”
He looked up then. “Hey! What happened to your eye?”
I cringed. After sleeping like the undead, I’d totally forgotten about the shiner. I chuckled and shrugged it off. “It’s nothing.”
“Right,” he snorted. “If I came home with a black eye like that you’d call out the National Guard.”
I paused because he was right. A lot of my overprotectiveness was a hangover from the violence I’d seen as a kid, but Danny’s fears for me were justified given that my job required me to wear weaponry. He deserved some sort of explanation.
“No biggie. Got it from a perp who didn’t want to be arrested.”
He eyed me suspiciously and I was suddenly thankful the long sleeves of my ratty, green chenille robe hid the bandage. “Well, did you get to use the salt-cannon on him?” Danny was always fascinated by the salt charms I used in the line of duty.
“I did,” I said, leaving out the bullet I’d also used. I rummaged in the fridge for breakfast but came up uninspired. Eyeing the box of snack cakes, I decided they weren’t so bad. Cake had eggs and milk, right? Plus they went really well with coffee.
Luckily, the perky news anchor’s voice covered the damning crinkle of cellophane.
“Last night Mayor Owens hosted a fund-raiser for his reelection campaign.” The TV flashed a shot of the mayor’s five-hundred-watt politician smile and polished suit. His eyes were too bright and his skin had the too-smooth texture that could be achieved only through expensive, clean magic elixirs. “Babylon real estate developer and major contributor to the mayor’s campaign, John Volos was also in attendance at the event.” The image jump-cut to one of the mayor glad-handing a disgustingly handsome man in a tux that cost more than most people made in a month.