Rich Boy: Awakening - 18. Chapter 18

“This place is cool.” Barry, the current leader of the ‘gang’ said as they entered the mining building. “Is there any beer?”

“We have to ride back down the mountain, remember?” Brandon’s voice was filled with derision at the thought of drinking and riding.

“Oh, yeah, but it’s still pretty fucking nice.” Barry said with a smile. He was tall, and had sun-bleached hair. All ten of their group was here, including their newest member, Jamie, who had finally managed to pass his driving test, and even managed to get his own motorcycle license. No one had mentioned that his bike was almost an exact duplicate of Worthington’s. Ducati had been able to build another one in less than a month, albeit at a princely sum. The bike had been Worthington’s gift to Jamie for passing his driving test.

“Nice.” Was all Billie said as he sat down on the couch and punched the leather next to him. All of them were dusty from the ride up the mountain. Spring was right around the corner, and the gentle weather of winter was stirring into something more, a reminder of the heat promised during the summer. “We can come up here in the summer and beat the heat.”

“You sure we won’t get in trouble up here?” Barry asked Worthington.

“Trouble?” Worthington shrugged. “I own the place.”

Worthington had purchased the abandoned mine to create his own mage’s workroom. He now owned all that property at a cut-rate deal. The site had too much environmental contamination to be useful for most purposes, and there wasn’t enough ore left in the ground beneath it to make it profitable for renewed mining operations. For pennies on the dollar, the mining company had been glad to unload the property. If he ever wanted to use it for more than what it was now, it’d cost him a fortune in environmental cleanup fees, but as long as it sat mostly unused, he’d be fine.

“Man it’s nice having rich friends.” Barry laughed.

“Except rich friends have enemies.” Jamie murmured as his eyes met Worthington’s and they released the spell in unison. Ben fell to the ground as his eyes rolled up, and the ones who were sitting all fell over in various positions.

“You were supposed to catch anyone standing.” Worthington said to Tom who looked slightly embarrassed.

“I didn’t expect you to do it right then.” Tom shot back while he bent over to pick up Ben, who was a little heavier than him. Red-haired Josh easily picked up Barry and carried him to the middle of the room while Tom staggered with Ben. Brandon just sighed and began dragging Billie over by the arms. It was a good thing Richie didn’t regularly scan the mind of his best friend, and what they were doing would not set off any of the wards Richie had placed there. Besides, at this range, Jamie was certain they could block the wards from warning Richie, and that he could reset them in such a way that Richie would never know the difference.

This time they cast the joining spell before the circle, and so they were able to make the circle around the group once everyone was in place without taking up too much time. Brandon stayed outside again, but Tom and Josh stayed inside the circle once it was set. The joining spell was even more powerful this time, and Jamie and Worthington really were one at that moment.

“Damn.” Josh said softly as he looked at them in the weird non-light. The affect was almost like a blacklight being put in a room, the electrical kind, except it was both dimmer and brighter than the mundane equivalent.

“What?” Worthington/Jamie asked.

“You two really look like twins in this light.” Josh answered. “I mean, we’ve all noticed differences in the last couple of months. You’re both taller, I mean both of you had to order new riding gear because the old stuff was too short, right? Your faces are different too, more similar, and your hair is almost the exact same color now.”

“Their shoulders are different too.” Tom added. “Mike’s are stockier, while Jamie’s are narrower. Mike’s got more muscles though, from all the wrestling workout I think.”

“Let’s get to work.” Jamie/Worthington said, and they woke up Barry first.

“What’s going on here?” Barry shouted as he leaped to his feet, ready to fight. “What the fuck?”

“This is for your own protection.” Worthington/Jamie said as they put Barry under a gentle control spell. He calmed down, stopped fighting, and took the blood when they put a finger in his mouth. Then he went back to sleep, forgetting all about the experience. It was easier this way, although they felt they were sure their friends would have agreed to this if they had asked. It was just easier.

The circle was opened, and the joining broken less than twenty minutes after it had begun. They remained at the ‘clubhouse’ for several hours, exploring, laughing, and drinking non-alcoholic beverages before they headed back down the hill. Everyone agreed that they’d enjoy coming up here during the summer, but none of them realized they’d only remember or think about the place in very controlled circumstances.

While everyone else kept on riding, Brandon, Jamie, and Worthington turned off when they reached Scottsdale and headed for Jeremy’s trailer park. They parked their bikes in front of Jeremy’s trailer, and knocked on the front door. Jeremy was grim when he opened the front door.

“So, you really want me to come with you?” He asked. “I mean I’m just a mundane, right?”

“You’re part of this, love.” Worthington said firmly.

“Hey, you spotted him.” Jamie added. “C’mon, Jer, we need your support if nothing else.”

“Fine.” Jeremy said with a shake of his head. “It’s over this way.”

Jeremy led them across the trailer park to another doublewide trailer that was about the same size as the one his family owned. He’d spotted the family moving in there two weeks ago, and had remarked on the family’s kid, a blond-haired angelic looking thirteen year old who now went to the same school as his brothers. He’d told Worthington that he was worried Carl was going to try to seduce all three of his brothers from the looks he gave them, and that had set off the chain of events leading to this moment, including the forced ward setting on their friends. That had been the last that needed to be protected, at a level deeper than normal wards. None of Jamie’s four current girlfriends were important enough to him to warrant more than a few wards. Neither was the baseball player he was sleeping with once or twice a month. All of those were based on physical attraction, not anything emotional.

It was Worthington who knocked on the door, and wondered if there was anyone home. There was no response at first, and so he knocked again. Jeremy had said the parents had left, but he hadn’t seen Carl leave with them. Still, Carl could have left earlier, or…

“Oh, it’s you.” Carl said as he opened the door. He had a towel wrapped around his body, and his blond hair was dripping wet. “Who are these… wait, Jeremy?”

“We need to talk.” Worthington said, and Carl sighed before opening the screen door and moving backwards.

“Let me get some clothes on.” Carl said before disappearing into his room. He came out moments later with a pair of shorts on, and a tank top while he used the towel to dry his hair. “So you guys found me. I didn’t even have to go looking for you. I could feel the residue of magic on Jeremy, but didn’t know it was you. Who are these other guys?”

“This is Jamie, Richie’s brother.” Worthington introduced him. “You should remember Brandon from school.”

“Yeah, your pet.” Carl scoffed and shuddered. “God, how can you stand there and look so calm. I’d die if I had to–”

“I’m not you.” Brandon interrrupted with a shrug.

“What are you doing here, Carl?” Worthington said sternly. Carl looked at him and sighed, letting his shoulders droop.

“I don’t suppose telling you how my father finally got a job and we just moved here is going to work?” Carl asked. Last month, Carl’s father had finally gotten a job offer with a company in Phoenix. Carl’s punishment by the school had included his father not being able to find work, but the man had gotten this job offer and leaped at the opportunity.

“What do you think?” Worthington retorted.

“I can’t tell you.” Carl replied, lifting his chin and challenging Worthington.

“Can not, or will not?” Jamie asked.

“Are you sure you’re Richie’s brother and not his?” Carl asked. “I mean, you two look a lot alike.”

“Carl.” Worthington said sharply, and when the boy’s eyes met his, he surged his mind across into the boy’s. Carl’s shields tried to stop him, but he poured over them like floodwaters over a dam, and soon was in his mind. The sense of relief was a surprise, but the wards inside were not. The tattletale ward that was screaming away was of no concern. Jamie had shielded as soon as Worthington had swarmed into the boy’s mind, and that ward would fail to warn its creator. He dug deeper, finding all the wards and blocks in Carl’s mind. It was like a rat’s nest, with three or four people having been in there before. It was obvious Carl had not let these people into his head, especially the one he recognized as being a student at the boarding school, but they had all gone in there, and guarded different things.

“Get out.” Carl whispered, but there was something in his mind that begged for something different. No, his wanting Worthington out of his mind was because of that ward; a nasty piece of business which must have cost a lot of pain on Carl’s part as it was put in there. Well, it was far easier to unravel, and hurt Carl a lot less. The others he dealt with as well, drawing on Brandon’s power in order to handle the one that was supposedly set by Byron Jones, but he knew that power signature very well. That ward crumbled too under a blast of massive power that was invisible, but left Carl crying out in pain, his heels thumping on the floor as he kicked wildly. Tears streamed down his face, but no one moved to touch him.

“That’s it.” Worthington said gently after checking through the boy’s mind again. The last ward worried him, and he tested its residues again. It had been created by someone who wanted him to think it was Byron Jones, but the memory connected to it was gone, wiped clean. Instead it had protected orders to watch Worthington and report on those he associated with. He ran the residue over again, and compared it to his memory of his last encounter with Byron Jones.

The power was Byron’s signature, in a way. There should have been no difference between it and what he knew as Byron’s signature, except there was a difference. He linked with Jamie, who was mystified as well, and then he brought Brandon into the link showing him what he’d founded. Carl’s breathing was returning to normal, and while he must have felt them in his head. He was also smiling.

I know what it is. Brandon said with certainty. It is Housemaster Jones’s magical signature, except it’s his from at least a year ago. Remember his lessons on the spell that absorbs the life of another human, extending the life of the mage? It changes the power signature. What if he’d done that in the last year?

I hope you never intend to do that. Jamie’s mental voice was rock-firm.

I don’t. Worthington assured him. Some things came at too high a price. I do remember noticing the change in Byron’s signature, though. So, if this was his old signature, whoever placed it knew him. How long has it been since the last time he did the spell?

Who knows? Brandon asked.

Jones does. Jamie offered the obvious answer. I doubt he’ll tell us if we ask, though.

He might. Brandon suggested. Whoever did this is powerful, and has enough knowledge of Housemaster Jones that he could fake the signature of his power. It has to be someone who was a student of his.

That narrows it down to a few dozen. Worthington pointed out.

But most of those can be eliminated because it requires a strong gift. Brandon had a good point. He could have never set this.

“You’re free, Carl.” Worthington said aloud as he ended their mental conference. “I hope you don’t expect me to make a habit of breaking compulsions placed on you.”

“Well, if Mr. Jones didn’t want an eye kept on you, I wouldn’t have to worry, would I?” Carl asked acerbically.

He wants us to believe it was Jones. Jamie said.

Or he believes it was Jones. Worthington replied as an idea came to him. “Carl, I want you to get undressed.”

“What?” Carl cried out with surprise.

“What’s going on, Michael?” Jeremy asked. “Is he the one or not?”

“He’s not the one committing the murders.” Worthington said.

“What murders?” Carl demanded suspiciously.

“Someone’s been murdering mundanes with Dark magic.” Brandon answered him.

“And you thought it was me?” Carl exclaimed with a horrified look on his face.

“We had to make sure.” Jamie said with a shrug.

“No, I just had those bastards come back into my life and set me on you like a fucking watchdog.” Carl said angrily. “I swear I wish I’d never met you Worthington Sinclair.”

“The feeling might be mutual, now undress.” Worthington growled.

“No.” Carl said as he stood up and looked Worthington in the eye. “I’m not going to bare my ass to you again.”

“Get undressed.” Jamie said. “He’s not going to touch you.”

“Why?” Carl asked in a whine. He was shaking with fear.

“Just do it.” Worthington said forcefully. Carl turned pale, but began to comply, and in moments his clothes were on the floor and he was standing nude in front of them. Worthington stepped up to him, ignoring the way he flinched, and the look of fear in his eyes and leaned down so that his face was right in front of the boy’s chest. Yes, right there, it was healed, but it had left just a little bit of a mark, an indentation right above, below, and to each side of the nipple. “Turn around.”

“What are you doing?” Carl demanded weakly.

“I’m not going to touch you.” Worthington said firmly. “Turn around.”

Carl complied, and Worthington saw what he was afraid of seeing. They were very faint, and had been well-healed, but there were still signs that could be seen if you knew what to look for. When Worthington told him to bend over and spread his butt cheeks, Carl’s shoulders shook with a sob, but he did it and there it was, the only real mark that the process left, and only two people in the world knew it existed.

“Get your clothes on.” Worthington snapped.

“There’s a car pulling up.” Jeremy warned.

“Damn.” Worthington exclaimed and looked over at Carl.

“It’s my mother, probably.” Carl said with tears still in his eyes. “Please don’t hurt her.”

“Carl, who are…” The woman started to exclaim in surprise, but Jamie reached out and took her mind under control for a moment, and started swearing. Someone had put wards in her too.

“I got her, and the shield stopped the warning.” Jamie murmured. “If they get her again, though, they’re going to know I’ve been in here.”

“Don’t hurt her.” Carl repeated.

“We won’t.” Worthington assured him. “Any of them dangerous to us, Jamie?”

“No.” Jamie murmured. “Just tattletales, really. She’s had a few memories erased and they didn’t bother to cover their tracks.”

“Well, clear her mind out of us being here, she just came in and Carl was in his room.” Worthington said and Jamie nodded before putting that into place. “Carl.”

“Yes?” The boy whispered. “What do you want?”

“I’m really sorry this happened to you.” Worthington softly. “I thought if I left you to your own devices, you’d be fine. Apparently, though, people think I care enough about you to make you useful to them.”

“Lucky me.” Carl did not sound happy about that.

“In a way, it does make you lucky, because I do care enough about you that I don’t want you used as a pawn.” Worthington said. “So, whether you like it or not, we’re going to be friends.”

“How nice.” Carl murmured angrily. “I don’t get a choice, do I?”

“You have some choice.” Worthington said. “Jeremy has said you’re becoming friends with his brothers.”

“Yeah, and how do you know him anyway?” Carl asked.

“He’s my boyfriend.” Worthington answered honestly and smiled when Jamie cleared his throat. “Well, one of them.”

“One of them?” Carl laughed. “Typical. I suppose Jeremy knows there’s another?”

“They’re both in this room.” Worthington said and Carl laughed.

“Only you could get away with something like that.” Carl said. “I remember how everyone at school treated you like you were a prince or something.”

“Or something.” Brandon murmured, and Worthington smiled.

“Look, all I’m interested in doing is making sure you’re protected.” Worthington said as Jamie sighed and finished what he was done. “I’m not going to put any compulsions or blocks on you, unless you give your permission first. I’m not even going to touch you without your permission. Anything beyond what’s necessary to keep you and your family safe will be up to you.”

“You promise?” Carl asked suspiciously.

“I promise.” Worthington said and Carl sighed.

“Fine, what do you want me to do?” The boy asked with a resigned tone.

“Do you think you can get permission to visit?” Worthington asked. “Maybe next weekend?”

“All of you are little too old to be my friends.” Carl chortled.

“That’s true.” Jamie concurred.

“How about a sleepover?” Jeremy offered.

“We can’t put the protections in over just an hour or two, and your trailer is a little too cramped.” Worthington commented.

“No, at your place.” Jeremy said. “Invite my brothers, and tell them they can bring a friend. You know how they love your pool. It’ll give my parents two days and a night without any kids in the house. They’ll love that.”

“That might work.” Carl said.

“Fine, that’s what we’ll do.” Worthington said. “Now, Carl, if any trouble happens until then, just open up your mind and yell for me with as much power as you can. I’m not that far away.”

“I will.” Carl promised. Worthington gave him a nod before they all left the house, and headed back across the trailer park to Jeremy’s home.

“You’ll put extra protections on my brothers, right?” Jeremy asked later that night when he was in bed with Worthington, alone.

“Yes.” Worthington laughed, and sighed as Jamie got really serious in seducing another girl into his bed. It took a little effort to block him out, but he managed it. No offense to his brother, but Jamie enjoyed women just a little bit too much for his taste, and they always seemed to complain about Jamie’s cock being too big. One of these days he’d probably give up trying to sweet talk them around and just compel them.

“So what is it about Carl that you do not want to talk about?” Jeremy asked. They’d already had their fun, and Jeremy was one of those that liked to talk afterwards, not before sex.

“He’s been conditioned.” Worthington said softly.

“What does that mean?” Jeremy asked. “Remember, I’m not the mage here.”

“It’s something that supposedly only a Sinclair is capable of doing.” Worthington said with a heavy sigh. “Basically you take someone and implant magical conditioning so deep inside him that they don’t even know it is there. You reduce them to being little more than a pawn, a tool for whatever you want. There is no way to undo it, and magically it leaves no mark whatsoever. There are a few physical signs, though, and Carl has those.”

“So it had to be you, your Uncle, or Jamie.” Jeremy said. “That leaves you and Jamie out, right? I mean, Jamie didn’t even know he was a Sinclair so he wouldn’t know how to do it.”

“Right.” Worthington said, but his mind was elsewhere, moving a mile a minute at what Jeremy had said.

“But it can’t be undone, right?” Jeremy continued. “So, that means whatever your Uncle tells him to do, he has to do.”

“It can’t be undone, no.” Worthington said softly.

“So what do we do?” Jeremy asked.

“I have an idea, but I have to talk to Jamie first.” Worthington said, not really wanting to go into details right then and there. His stomach churned just thinking about it, and he knew Carl would flat out refuse, even if he could be trusted with the details. That would be the sticking point. He had no problem breaking his word to Carl. The boy was no longer his own person, so any word he had given him was null and void. If Worthington could do it alone, he would, but he couldn’t. It would have to be Jamie, and as much as Jamie had changed, he still valued free will, and would not want to do this.

“You’re not going to tell me what it is yet, are you?” Jeremy sounded unhappy about that.

“It’s for Jamie to decide, and if he says no, well it won’t matter anyway.” Worthington explained.

“We’re still no closer to finding the murderer.” Jeremy said. “Not that I’m not glad it wasn’t Carl, mind you. I mean, it wasn’t, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t him.” Worthington said. “Still, he’s the only other potential Dark mage known to be in the area, and all the victims have been killed with Dark magic.”

“So that fuckwad has to stay here for who knows how long.” Jeremy was definitely not happy. Rob McKenzie was staying here, and well no one but Rob was happy about that at all. Brandon was probably the most upset, because he had to share a room with him. Jeremy hated even seeing him, and so did both Stacy and Elizabeth.

“Yes.” Worthington said softly. “You know why it’s necessary. The Light mage who works as a detective suspects all of us, because we’re known to be Dark, or at least use Dark magic. As long as we’re in here, under wards she trusts, set by Stacy and Elizabeth, we’re not suspects.”

“I hate this.” Jeremy shuddered, and Worthington pulled him in tight.

“I like it no more than you.” Worthington said. They stayed like that until Jeremy fell asleep. It was about an hour later that the door opened and Jamie slipped into their room. He took off his boxer-briefs before climbing into bed and curling up on the other side of Jeremy with that goofy grin on his face.

“You better not have gotten her pregnant.” Worthington teased Jamie.

“I used a rubber.” Jamie laughed softly so as to not wake Jeremy.

“Well, good night.” Worthington said, laying back and closing his eyes. He was soon asleep, having decided to wait until morning to discuss his idea with Jamie.

“Worthington, wake up.” Stacy’s voice woke him out of a sound sleep, and he blinked his eyes at her. The only light in the room came from the hallway light filtering in through the open door, and outside the windows he could see the lights of the city still twinkling in what were the early hours of the morning.

“What’s up?” Worthington whispered to his aunt.

“Detective Kendrick called.” She whispered, not looking at Jamie and Jeremy who were both sound asleep. Jeremy’s finger was in Jamie’s mouth, and Jamie was sucking on it like a pacifier. “There’s been another murder and she wants you to come take a look at it. I’m supposed to drive you over there.”

“Okay.” Worthington said, knowing full well he’d agreed to this. He crawled out of bed as she left the room, and managed to get dressed without turning on any lights. He picked out a pair of slacks, a t-shirt, and a dress shirt to go over that, and then he sat at the computer desk to put on some socks and his motorcycle boots. Jamie and Jeremy were still asleep as he left the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he made his way upstairs. Stacy was dressed in a pair of jeans and an old blouse. As she grabbed her keys, she handed him a cup of coffee before picking up her own coffee.

As she drove through Scottsdale and took the 202, he sipped on the coffee and tried to wake up a little bit. It was just after five in the morning, which probably meant the murder scene was still fresh. That was good news. The last two murders hadn’t been found until nearly a day later and the magical residues had been very faint. Kendrick was a good mage, and could tell they had been done with Dark magic, but then given the grisly nature of the murder, Dark magic was something that could be inferred.

Unlike wards, though, the murders had been committed with combat spells. Wards sustained themselves off the normal energy every living thing produced, and thus kept the magical signature of their creator. Combat-style spells began fading as soon as they were cast, and if too much time had gone by, it was impossible to tell which mage had cast the spells. More than twelve hours later, it was usually impossible to tell exactly what spell was used, unless you knew their specific effects.

“How far is it?” Worthington asked as he left the 202 and headed north on the Squaw Peak. They’d changed the name of that freeway years ago, after some female Native American that had been killed in the early days of Iraq, but he only knew it by the name all the locals called the section of freeway.

“We should be there in a minute.” She murmured around a yawn. It was another fifteen minutes before they pulled into the parking lot of Planned Parenthood. That struck him as oddly funny and he chuckled a bit. Stacy gave him an odd look as they got out and headed towards where the police cars were sitting with their flashing lights and yellow tape. “What’s so funny?”

“The murder was committed across the street from an abortion clinic?” Worthington asked in a low voice and she shook her head.

“Only you would find that funny.” She said. “There’s a gay bar over here, and this here is a rehab center.”

“Who puts a rehab center behind a gay bar and across the street from Planned Parenthood?” Worthington asked with a barely suppressed chuckle, and thought there was going to be a second murder if he didn’t shut up.

“Spare me your humor, Worthington.” She said with a shake of her head.

“Sorry.” He murmured.

“Sure you are.” She shot back, but there was a hint of a smile on her face as she walked up to a uniformed officer. “Stacy Atkins and Worthington Sinclair to see Detective Kendrick. She’s expecting us.”

“Oh great, the psychic is here.” The officer murmured. So that was the explanation for their presence at a crime scene. Well, whatever worked. Still, the cop spoke into a microphone and it wasn’t five minutes before Detective Kendrick appeared.

“Let’s get you inside before the press sees you.” Kendrick murmured. She was a short woman, with medium-length brown hair and a pleasant face. Jamie would have said she was pretty, for a woman in her thirties. The Detective was a Light mage of medium strength, and a tremendous amount of skill, the last according to Stacy. Kendrick was also married, and had four children that she said always complained because they never got to see their mother.

“Psychics?” Stacy asked and Kendrick chuckled.

“What other reason?” Kendrick muttered. “Anyone asks, the boy is your protégé.”

“Got it.” Stacy murmured. “Then again, we can just wipe the memory of anyone who saw us, if needed.”

“True.” Kendrick stated. “I don’t like to do that though. I have to work with these people.”

“What happened here?” Worthington asked, returning to business. She was leading them through the rehab center, which had apparently been cleared if its inhabitants. He was surprised that they were all the way through the place before she slowed down, exiting out to a garbage area.

“One of the residents here apparently has a contact outside that has been sneaking her in some smack.” Kendrick explained. There was a forensics photographer taking pictures still, but the scene looked pretty much picked over already by the cops. “Her contact drops the junk over the wall, and she picks it up later. Well, she snuck out here after lights out, and found the body.”

“So it was dumped here?” Worthington asked. That was no good. Still, he could look at the body. “Um, the photographer?”

“He’s a friend.” She said. “He’ll keep taking pictures while you work. I’ve already done my bit, but I want to see what results you get.”

“Okay.” Worthington said as he went over to the body. Part of him wanted to wretch at the bloody mess, but it was no worse than he’d seen before. As he squatted down, avoiding the pools of blood, he ignored the flashing of the photographer’s camera, and cast some of the few investigative spells he knew. The last two let out visible light, but he twisted the spell slightly so the light they emitted was similar to the flash of the camera. When he was done, his mouth tasted of blood and bile, and strange things he had never tasted in life, but he understood nevertheless.

“Well?” Stacy asked as he stood up and grimaced at her.

“Your victim is Hispanic, twenty-two years old, and had a wonderful night partying.” Worthington said. “He enjoyed his beer, and his cocaine, and left the bar to go to a private party where he had more drugs and sex.”

“That was more than I got.” Kendrick admitted. “So he wasn’t at the bar or in the parking lot when he was killed?”

“Oh no, he was in the parking lot and his body was dumped over the fence.” Worthington murmured softly. He almost felt sorry for the guy. A good night partying was not worth being killed over. “It was at the party that he saw something that scared him, and he almost got lucky. He managed to escape the apartment and got within sight of his car before he was caught, and killed.”

“Do you know who did it?” Kendrick asked with excitement in her voice. “Can you track him?”

“No, there’s no way to track it by its magic.” Worthington said and suppressed a shudder. He sighed, and calmed his mind, preparing the spell before releasing it. His skin itched as the illusion settled over him.

“It?” Stacy exclaimed and then fell silent as she saw his illusion take hold.

“Detective, the apartment is nearby.” Worthington said.

“Impressive illusion.” She commented. He wanted to hurry, holding the illusion like this took a lot of power. He’d only seen the officer whose face and uniform he now appeared as briefly, and it took a lot of concentration to hold it. She’d said there were media out there though, and he didn’t want his picture taken.

“Hold on.” Stacy murmured and she shifted in appearance. The face was still hers, but she now appeared to be wearing a cop uniform. “I can’t hold it long.”

“Let’s go.” Worthington said and led the way. The apartment was less than a block away, but he’d been surprised the victim had made it as far as he had. He must have been terrified, not even feeling the claw marks in him as he ran. It was a ground floor apartment he led them to, and the door was unlocked. Stacy gasped at the sight inside, and Kendrick turned pale.

It had been a massacre inside.

There was more than one victim tonight. The small apartment was littered with body parts, many of them mangled from being chewed on for a good while. All that had happened while the drugged out victim had been in the bedroom, having sex with one of the other party-goers. He’d been surprised when the guy fucking him had been yanked off of him, and even more surprised at the thing with red skin and horns on his head. It had looked like a costume at first, until the thing bit into the other guy’s throat and blood had gushed all over the place. The body was still there in the bedroom, but it was the kitchen that drew Worthington’s attention. The illusion faded as he looked at the marks on the floor.

Some silly fool had summoned a demon, and this time instead of just one victim, the demon had feasted on five people before letting one escape and chasing him down. There hadn’t been time to do anything with the body but throw it over the wall.

“You can’t be serious.” Kendrick scoffed. “No one is stupid enough to summon a demon these days.”

“Someone is doing it detective.” Worthington said weakly. This was a nightmare, and not just for the detective. Demon summoning was proscribed, even to the Dark. No one wanted another Demon War. The last one had been centuries ago, according to the oral histories, and thousands had died. By the time it was over, less than half of the mages that had lived at the start were still alive, Light or Dark. It was also the last time that Light and Dark mages had joined together to fight the last of the Demon Summoners.

“May the light preserve us.” Stacy whispered, and Worthington wondered if the Light could do that, or anyone for that matter.