“Guess you should have worn more comfortable shoes,” I said with a smirk, gesturing at Swift’s heeled boots.

  She rolled her eyes. “Or we could take the bus.”

  “The buses are slow here. We’ll miss the Rune Rail,” I said, turning and starting down the street. We wouldn’t, but I was not going to suffer through a bus ride at this time of day.

  Swift jogged to catch up and fell in step beside me. “I’m going to get in touch with the contact I mentioned. We should be able to meet with him day after tomorrow. He’s an expert in possessions; he should be able to tell us what is doing this,” Swift said.

  “Who is this guy, anyhow?” I asked as we crossed the street. “We can’t give details of the case to every random person you just happen to know.”

  “Obviously, Blackwell,” Swift said, exasperated. “This is someone I worked closely with for years when I was in Magical Artifacts. He’s an old family friend and he’s trustworthy, not to mention an expert in his field.”

  The scent of coffee drifted out of the door that opened ahead of us. One of the few things I liked about Seattle was the coffee shops on every corner. I had a caffeine addiction that I had no intention of ever quitting.

  I ducked into the store and Swift followed me. “Coffee break already?” she asked, looking around the mostly empty building. Ten a.m. on a Tuesday wasn’t exactly their busiest time, lucky for me.

  “It’s never too early for a coffee break,” I said, stepping up to the counter.

  “What can I get you?” the barista asked. Her fingers hovered over the screen as she waited for my order with a bored expression.

  “Matcha, hot, but at fifty-seven degrees celsius, with almond milk, an extra scoop of matcha, and one pump of classic syrup,” I rattled off, waiting for her brain to catch up.

  She tapped at the screen then squinted up at me. “Sorry, could you repeat that?” she asked.

  I gritted my teeth and repeated the entire order, slower this time. I slid my card across the counter, hoping she had gotten most of it correct at least.

  “I should have known you were the type to have an overly complicated drink order,” Swift said, raising an eyebrow and looking at my perfectly tailored suit.

  “I know what I like. Why should I have it any other way?” I asked.

  She snorted. “I didn’t really take you for the type to like green tea either. That stuff makes me gag.”

  “I spent a lot of time in Tokyo, and I fell in love with it, along with real sushi and wagyu beef,” I said, as I took back my card from the barista. “Japan has great food.”

  “You’ll fit right in on Harajuku now,” Swift said with a smirk.

  I resisted the urge to cover my hair. Even with a hat, I wouldn’t be able to hide the horrendous pink. I hated magic sometimes. “You already knew it wasn’t suicide when you conned me into that bet,” I said, grabbing my hot matcha from the counter. I could tell just from holding the cup that it was way over one thirty-five.

  “I don’t make bets I’m not sure I’m going to win,” Swift said, looking smug.

  I stalked out of the cafe and tried to walk fast enough to leave Swift behind. Unfortunately, that was a lost cause. I blew on the tea; it was going to take forever to cool off. Most mages could use magic to cool it, but I always ended up overdoing it, and then I was stuck with a block of matcha-flavored ice.

  “Is there any other information you’re keeping to yourself?” I asked. “I’d like to get this case solved as quickly as possible.”

  “I bet you would…” Swift let her retort trail off as her eyes focused on someone in the distance.

  “What?” I asked, immediately scanning the area for danger.

  “I think we should run,” Swift said, her voice tense.

  “Why—”

  A blast of arcane energy smacked me across the face. My cup of steaming hot matcha splattered all over my shirt and suit, burning the skin underneath. Before I had a chance to curse whoever had cast the spell, I was hit with a burst of air that knocked me flat on my back.

  Ten

  The world tilted as Swift leapt over my prone form. Her mace collided with an arcane bolt, and the impact exploded outward in a blaze of purple and pink light. My ears popped and all I could hear was ringing.

  “I’ll rip the flesh from your bones you worthless peons!” Swift shouted down the street. Her voice sounded muffled after the blast my eardrums had suffered. She twirled her mace over her head, cackling like a banshee.

  And there was the crazy. I crumpled my empty cup and tossed it to the side. My ears were still ringing, but other than a sore backside, I was uninjured. I pushed up to a crouch and slapped my hand against the ground.

  A force field rippled out with me at the epicenter. Swift leapt forward and bounced off the shield. It kept magic and people out, but kept us trapped in here as well, as long as it was active. It could be broken, but it would take a lot of power and at least a few minutes. I needed a second to figure out who was attacking us, and why. Assassins had already come after me this morning; it wasn’t normal to be attacked twice in one day. I hadn’t pissed anyone off that bad recently.

  A mage approached, blue flames crawling up her arm as she eyed the shield around us. A long black trench coat billowed around her legs. Her head was shaved and inked with runic designs.

  “Let me out of here,” Swift snapped, whirling on me.

  “What the hell do you want?” I demanded, stepping between Swift and the other mage.

  “Move away from the girl and you may live,” the bald chick threatened.

  “You’re after Swift?” I asked, incredulous, and a little insulted. My name was pretty well known among the undesirable types. Why would they be after Swift and not me?

  “Hiring an inept bodyguard was a bad choice, Lexi,” the mage said. The flames around her arm grew until they were too bright to look at directly. “You will both die, today!”

  Swift shoved me to the side. “Let me out of here, Blackwell. This isn’t your fight.”

  “I’m not going to just lower the shield,” I snapped.

  The mage lifted her hand and blue fire raced toward us. The initial impact sent splinters cracking across the force field. I stepped back, my eyes going wide. I had never seen a shield damaged from one blow before.

  The second blast shattered it. The kickback from my magic imploding knocked me flat for a second time. Swift shouted something unintelligible as she rushed forward. Pink flames whipped out from her mace, smashing into the other mage.

  They clashed, sparks flying between them. Swift caught a kick to the stomach and flew backwards. She used her mace to slowly drag herself to a stop and ran forward again.

  I drew my sword and rushed in from the other side. A second mage I hadn’t noticed before jumped into my path. I lifted my sword just in time, cutting through the arcane energies they cast. I swung quickly, going on the offensive before they could follow up to their original attack.

  The guy looked like a rocker reject with the same trench coat and tattooed, bald head as his partner. He was fast; I’d give him that, but he wasn’t as powerful as the chick.

  I snapped my fingers and flames circled my hands. It was a defensive spell that packed a punch. Most mages didn’t know what the flames did either. It was old school, something my master had taught me when I first started training under him.

  The mage surged forward, sending a blast of arcane magic straight toward my face. Fire flared around my fist, acting as a guard, and I smacked the arcane magic out of the way with one hand before slashing at his midsection. He blocked the strike with a crackling line of pure arcane energy. The flames that circled my wrists billowed out in a bright gust.

  The mage faltered and I twisted my wrists, ready to skewer him, when a blast of blue fire caught my attention. I lifted one arm to fend off the attack, but the blast hit me like a battering ram.

  I groaned and lifted my cheek off the grimy concrete as I regained consciousness. Swift grabbed me by the shoulder and lifted me back onto my feet one-handed. She still had her mace in the other and was looking down the street suspiciously. The two mages that had attacked us lay still on the ground, but I couldn’t tell if they were dead or not.

  “We need to go,” Swift said, her tone urgent.

  “Who are those people?” I asked, wiping away blood that dripped from my nose.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Swift said.

  I jerked my shoulder out of her grip. “Don’t worry about it? Seriously?” I exclaimed. “We were just attacked in broad daylight by two well-above-average mages. That is not a don’t-worry-about-it situation, Swift.”

  “Look, I won’t tell everyone you got knocked on your ass if you don’t tell everyone we were attacked,” Swift said, glaring at me.

  “This is not going to go unnoticed,” I said, waving my hand at the crowd watching from a safe distance.

  “No one knows it was us, and if we get out of here now, no one will. Do we have a deal or not?” Swift asked.

  “Fine,” I ground out. She was coming out on top in way too many of these deals. “But I’m not taking the blame for this, and you’re explaining this to me later.”

  “Fine,” Swift snapped. “Let’s go.”

  Eleven

  Swift was waiting for me outside the men’s locker room when I emerged in a fresh suit. Getting the coffee stain out earlier hadn’t been a big deal, but matcha, skid marks from the asphalt, and the giant tear on the sleeve of the jacket were beyond my skills. I’d have to take the suit to my tailor.

  “I told you I was calling it a day,” I said, stopping in front of her.

  “I was waiting to escort you home,” Swift said, pushing off the wall. “You might be a target now, and I'd feel better if I knew you got home safely.”

  I laughed until I realized she was being completely serious. “You are not walking me home,” I said shaking my head. “But you can explain who hates you so much that they would want to kill not only you, but anyone who happens to be associated with you.”

  “I have to get permission from Chief Bradley to brief you on those details,” Swift said, jutting out her chin stubbornly.

  “So you’re not going to hold up your part of the deal?” I asked, irritation turning into justified anger. If Bradley knew she was being targeted for assassination, he should have told me. She should have told me.

  Swift looked away. “I said I would explain, I never said when.”

  I shook my head and scoffed at her weak attempt at deflection. “You knew what I meant.” When Swift remained silent, I decided that I had put up with enough ridiculous crap for one day, turned on my heel, and walked away. If she was going to keep secrets that put my life, and my best suits, at risk, then I would have to get the information on my own. Tomorrow, though. After a good night’s sleep.

  My apartment in Kichijoji was a thirty-five minute train ride from the Tokyo Rune Rail station. I held onto the handrail overhead and tried to ignore the press of bodies all around me. Other than the occasional handsy pervert that I had to smack for trying to grope a woman, everyone was polite and quiet despite being crammed together. The efficiency of the Tokyo train system was why I hated public transportation in every other city. Nothing else compared, and I had no patience for it.

  The train came to a gentle stop and I squeezed out with the rush of other passengers. I hurried up the escalator and out onto the bustling street. It was the middle of the day in Kichijoji, even though it was well past dinner back in Seattle. My sleep schedule was a mess, to say the least. Since I did most of my work in North America, I had hung black-out curtains in my windows ages ago so that the sun didn’t bother me while I slept.

  The tension in my shoulders relaxed as I walked down the familiar streets. No one knew where I lived except the HR department. Every time I made it here, some of the constant wariness lifted. Not all of it, of course. I wasn’t stupid. No one was ever completely safe.

  I shoved my hand in my pocket to see how much yen I had on me. My favorite izakaya was on my way home, and I definitely didn’t feel like cooking; but they only took cash.

  I stopped mid-step as an alarmingly strong sense of magic tickled the edges of my senses. Most people suppressed their magical signature. It was considered rude to go around broadcasting your level of power, kind of like walking around with both middle fingers in the air.

  The street ahead was mostly empty. I turned slowly, putting my back to the wall so no one could creep up behind me. A woman, not Japanese but possibly American, with long black hair and thick bangs, walked slowly toward me. The power I was feeling came from her; of that I was certain.

  “Logan Blackwell,” she said, looking me up and down before dismissing me as uninteresting. “I’ve come as a courtesy, to warn you to stay out of our way.”

  “You’re going to have to be more specific,” I said, lifting an eyebrow. “I’m in a lot of people’s way.”

  The woman did not look amused. “I am going to kill Lexi Swift, and if you try to stop me, I’ll have no problem killing you as well.”

  What was with that chick? Everyone and their uncle seemed to want her dead. I couldn’t deny that I was a little insulted that no one had ever put out this amount of effort to kill me. I had worked really hard to be a pain in the butt to every major criminal organization I came across. Yet, no one had sent mages of this caliber to kill me.

  “Lady, I have no idea who you are, or why you want my partner dead; and I hate to disappoint new friends, but you’re not killing Swift,” I said, resting one hand on my katana. I didn’t exactly like Swift, but she was still my partner and I couldn’t have her wind up dead on my watch.

  My fingers itched to blast this chick, but for once I wasn’t sure it was a fight I’d win. Well, I could definitely kill her, but I didn’t count a fight as a win unless I got to walk away alive.

  “So be it. I have fulfilled my obligation to warn you. The consequences of ignoring this warning will be on your head,” the woman said, turning to walk away.

  “Hey,” I said, shouting after her. “Who are you?”

  She glanced back over her shoulder and snorted. “There’s no point in explaining that to you when you’ll be dead in less than twenty-four hours,” she said. Black smoke drifted around her, and she disappeared.

  I stared at the place she had stood and shoved my hands in my pockets. Things just got a whole lot more complicated.

  Twelve

  I needed to know who Swift was. She had enemies that made mine look friendly, and that was not an easy feat. Besides, she had read my file; it was only fair that I read hers.

  Records that weren’t available in the System were kept down in what the department fondly referred to as The Cave. It was in the back of the IMIB building, at the end of a narrow hallway; and for some reason, there was always a light out.

  Sergeant Patrice Jackson was the woman to schmooze if you needed something. She was sweet as Southern apple pie if you treated her right, and vicious as a moccasin if you pissed her off. She liked me for reasons I’d never understood.

  Her office was the barrier into the rooms that held the old paper files and evidence. There was no door on this side of things — I had no idea how she got in and out — just inch-thick, bulletproof glass and runes that’d smoke you if you tried to throw magic at her. Not that she couldn’t beat you into a pile of mush on her own if she wanted to. There were rumors that some idiot had tried once, and that she kept his remains in a jar in her desk drawer.

  “Patrice,” I said with my most charming smile. “How are you today?”

  Patrice wiped a stray smear of mustard from the corner of her mouth and gave me an unimpressed look. “Sugar, when are you going to stop trying to flirt with me to get what you want? You know it never works,” she said with a thick drawl. Her black hair was going gray at the edges, but the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth kept her from looking stern.

  “A man has to try,” I said with a more genuine smile.

  She snorted and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “All right, what do you need?”

  “Any information you have on Detective Lexi Swift, recently transferred from Magical Artifacts,” I said.

  Patrice tapped away at her keyboard as I drummed my fingers on the counter impatiently. She pursed her lips, her wrinkles deepening as she frowned. “What have you gotten yourself into?” she asked, eyes still locked on the screen.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “This woman’s file is locked down so tight you’d need Magister Level clearance to view it,” Patrice said, twisting her monitor around so I could see it. Sure enough, everything was blacked out, and a password was required to view any information about Swift.

  I ground my teeth together. “Thanks for trying, Patrice. I owe you a Coke,” I said, pushing off the counter.

  “You better bring me a bottle of Jack with that Coke the way you’re always stressing me out,” Patrice said, shooing me away. “Get out of here before you get me in trouble for trying to hack the system or something.”

  I snorted but left as instructed. None of this made any sense. If her history was such a big secret, what was she doing working as a detective?

  Swift held out a cup of something hot. I sniffed and the distinctive scent of matcha filled my nose.

  “Are you bribing me now?” I asked.

  “It’s a peace offering,” Swift said, holding the cup out closer to me.

  I snatched the hot tea and took a sip. It was perfect. She had remembered my order despite complaining about how complicated it was. What was she, some kind of stalker? I frowned; that didn’t mean her secrets suddenly no longer mattered. “Should I send you my dry cleaning bill as well?” I asked, taking another long sip.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t push your luck.”

  “Instead, maybe you can explain why I got a visit from a Shadow Mage last night when I was less than three blocks from home. In Kichijoji,” I added for emphasis.

 

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