My partner on the other hand loomed over the small man like some sort of vengeful Aztec god. “Cops eat donuts.” He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and flipped it open. “I’m MEA. We prefer a nice Danish.”
“Magic Enforcement Agency?” O’Lachlan’s eyes widened. “Thought you guys went after the big wizes.”
“Apparently, we also go after little assholes.” Morales used his left hand to rub his eyes. The scars webbing across the knuckles were from a fire that had killed his Adept father and little sister when he was a kid. After that trauma, he’d chosen to leave the Lefty world behind and present himself as a Mundane. Usually he did everything with his right hand—until he got stressed or overtired. Then he forgot he wasn’t naturally a Righty.
Dispatch came on, so I turned back around and gave her our approximate location. “We need a squad car to pick up the perp from the Pioneer Square attack.”
“Hold on a sec,” she said, “I need to see if I can find a free car.”
“Can’t you reroute one from the festival?”
“After your perp hexed those cops, a riot broke out. It’s under control, but every available car in the area is there for all the arrests.”
“Shit.”
“Amen, sister. Gonna get worse the closer we get to Halloween, too. My advice?” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Take him in yourself. Gonna be an hour, two maybe, before we can get someone to you.”
I hung up and turned back to Morales. “We’re gonna have to take him in. This fucking Blue Moon is a pain in my ass.”
O’Lachlan crossed his arms and grumbled something like, “Ain’t seen nothing yet.”
“You want to hang here while I go get the car?”
Morales shook his head. “I’ll get it.”
“Understood.” I jerked my head back toward the square. “See you in a few.”
An adrenaline-spiked cop plus a shit-talking perp made a dangerous enough combination. But when you added a hefty dose of full-moon-batshit energy to the mix, you had yourself a recipe for a real shit sandwich. As a lapsed Adept, Morales was more susceptible to the erratic energies of double full moons than other Lefties. Better for me to babysit O’Lachlan than to put my partner in the position of facing a battery charge because he kicked the wannabe leprechaun in the shamrocks.
After Morales jogged off, I grabbed O’Lachlan off the ground. “Why did you hex all those people?” I spun him around and pressed him against the wall for a frisk.
“You owe me two hundred bucks.”
I tilted my head. “Like hell I do.”
“Your fuckin’ partner tore my jacket when he tackled me. I’ll never get my deposit back now.”
“Oh yeah?” His tights had large holes and runners from the asphalt. “Maybe you should be more worried about coming up with bail than paying the costume shop.” I made quick work of patting down his undercarriage.
“Don’t be shy, lassie,” he said, falling back into his unconvincing brogue. “That clover’s lucky, if ya know what I mean.”
I didn’t rise to the bait. “You didn’t just decide to hex cops at a carnival for shits and giggles. It took some planning.”
“Hmm.”
In his right jacket pocket, I found a lump. Sticking my hand inside, I grabbed the item and pulled it out. “Well, lookie here.” I turned him around and held up an ampoule of glittery golden powder so he could see. “Who sold it to you?” Since he was right-handed and high off a potion when we first saw him, I already knew he wasn’t an Adept. Mundanes couldn’t cook real magic, and from the spectacle I’d witnessed in the square, this magic wasn’t just real—it was real dirty.
“Would tellin’ ye help my case?”
“Maybe I’ll put a good word in if I think you’re honest.”
He lips made a sound like a fart. “Bullshit you will.”
“Try me.” I raised a brow.
His expression tightened into something approximating wounded pride. “I’m no snitch.”
“Maybe some time in the can will help you tune your singing voice.” I pushed him back to the ground. “Stay.”
I looked at the powder. An overwhelming, forbidden urge rushed through me to skip the red tape altogether and read the potion. Not all Adepts could read energy signatures, but it was one of my gifts—or curses depending on your perspective. Still, evidence gained through Arcane processes wasn’t admissible in court. Besides, when it came to magic, I was supposed to be firmly on the wagon.
But it would be so easy to just open that bag. So easy to read the potion’s secrets. So easy to target the guilty coven.
Despite the chill in the air, my left palm was slick and trembling. Something in my gut opened, like a black hole that wanted filling.
A throat cleared next to me. “You all right, lass? You’re looking kind of… off.”
I jerked my head up, realizing too late I’d been about to take a running leap off the wagon.
Again.
The sound of an engine signaled Morales’s impending arrival.
Time to remind myself that magic might be easy, but it was never simple.
My pulse did a little soft-shoe in my chest. I stuck the ampoule in my pocket and swallowed to cleanse the tarnish of guilt from my tongue. I grabbed O’Lachlan’s arm and pulled up and toward the curb. “C’mon.”
Since his hands were bound I had to hoist him up into the SUV. He wriggled across the seat, and I followed him. Morales glanced back over the seat. “Everything okay?” He was frowning like his instincts were telling him otherwise.
I wiped my damp palm on my jeans. “Yep. Why?”
“You’re all flushed.”
I tilted my head and prepared to verbally punt. “Morales, I just spent the last fifteen minutes chasing down a leprechaun. Sorry I’m not looking spring fresh.”
I worried I’d overplayed my sarcasm. But he blew out a breath. “All right then.” He turned back toward the steering wheel. “Settle in, Mr. O’Lachlan, we’ll have you at the Hoosegow Hilton in no time.”
The perp spat on the floor. “May the devil cut the head off ye and make a day’s work of your neck.”
“First of all, don’t spit in the car. It’s disgusting,” I said. “And second, the devil can do his worst so long as he buys me dinner first.”