Shifty Magic (17 page)

"Special invention of yours?" I asked.

He glared at me. "All humans have magical
potential," he answered indignantly. "I have dozens of successes to
prove it. People the covens unfairly shunned. After a year or two
at my school, they can work the subtle energies like a pro."

Tasson risked a glance at Cooper and the
color drained from his broad, flabby face. "We have a stellar
record," he finished, a defensive note in his voice.

People like him made me sick. It wasn't hard
to convince desperate people with tricks and technology when they
wanted something to be true. Like all the snake oil shysters before
him, Tasson had shamelessly taken advantage of that weakness.

"You have a nice little setup here, don't
you, Tasson?" Cooper said as he straightened up.

"We're working off our loans," Police Girl
chirped. She popped a grape into her mouth, avidly watching the
drama unfolding in front of her.

I could almost see Cooper's hackles bristle
up and was impressed that none of his anger showed through. "Know
any of these other people?" he asked, holding his iC up.

"Nope....Nope,..." Tasson said, watching
pictures flash by. "No—wait. Go back." He squinted at the screen
and Cooper straightened his arm to bring the device closer.

"The girl that got away," he said, sounding
surprised. "What'd she do?"

Cooper flashed the front of the iC at me.
Marla's ID picture filled the screen. "How do you know her?"

"Tagged along with her friend to check out
the school almost two years ago. I was willing to give them a
discount if they came as a package, but she backed out. Never
caught her name."

"And the other one?" I asked.

He got a dreamy look on his face. "Crazy
weird. But worth it."

"Her name," I ground out. "What was her
name?"

His focus snapped back to me. "Carly,
Crystal, Susie, how the hell should I know?" he said irritably. "I
don't memorize the names of all the girls who come through
here."

"You really are a pig, you know that?" I
said.

"When was Gregory Frost here?" Cooper
asked.

"About the same time."

"And?"

Tasson scowled, obviously hating having to
give away so much to save his skin. "He signed up for the
three-year curriculum. Worked hard. Was willing to do anything to
bring out his magical powers."

"He's legendary," Police Girl threw in, and
Tasson scowled at her.

"Anything unusual about him? Strange habits?
Friends or family we could contact?" Cooper asked.

"Palled around with a few of the girls I
think, but mostly kept to himself. He'd show up when I summoned him
and left when I told him to."

I ignored the nausea this guy inspired and
tried to focus on the case. I had a feeling that if we could
understand what kind of person Gregory was, we could figure out who
our current murderer might be. "Was he easy-going? Moody?
Crazy?"

"You really have no idea what I have going
here, do you?" Tasson said. "Let me spell it out for you. I. Don't.
Care. It's. All. About. Me."

My right palm started itching again. "I'm a
good enough shot to just graze him," I offered to Cooper.

He eyed the smarm bag with distaste. "I'll
let you know."

"I heard about that Gregory guy from Donna,"
Police Girl piped up. "She's the harem girl. We don't get a lot of
boys, so when we do they kind of stand out. Plus, they were sort of
an item when she was first here."

"Shut up, Becky," Tasson growled, "or I'll
make you shut up."

Cooper flexed his right hand into a fist and
his knuckles cracked. Closing his nasty mouth, Tasson slouched
deeper into the padded headboard and glared at the girl.

"Anything you can tell us might help," I
said to Becky.

"Well, he was kind of quiet at first. Real
serious, you know? But ambitious. Then toward the end, he started
having a lot of trouble. Lost his temper in meditation class when
the instructor told him he wasn't breathing right and smashed up
the room."

The delight that only
top-level gossip can give sparkled in her eyes. "Donna said that
night he talked about getting his powers and how he'd get revenge
on everyone who'd ever treated him bad. Two days later, he was gone
and the instructor had hanged himself.
Legendary
," she finished.

"We'll need to see all your student
records," Cooper said.

Tasson smirked at him. "I lost them."

A cat-like smile of satisfaction touched
Becky's mouth, echoing the expressions on the faces of the girls in
the lobby. "There's a safe behind that painting of Dionysus and the
nymphs."

"Jesus Christ!" Tasson burst out, sitting
straight up. "I haven't treated you that bad, have I? You like the
V. I feed you. Thanks for turning on me, you ungrateful c—"

"Enough," Cooper said. He didn't raise his
voice, but something in it slashed out with an authority that even
got through to Tasson.

"Got incriminating pictures in that safe,
Xanny? Or maybe those lost records?" I asked in my best overly
sweet, threatening tone.

His mouth tightened up, and he reached for
his robe.

"You recommended Frost to speak at a
practitioners' conference in New York," Cooper added. "Why?"

"I got nothing else to say to you
people."

"He passed all his tests the day before he
left. He was a full practitioner," Becky piped up.

"This betrayal is giving me chest pains,"
Tasson complained. "Arrest me and deal with my lawyer, would
you?"

"Glad to." Cooper put his iC to his ear and
sauntered to the far side of the room.

"Now what?" Becky asked.

I shrugged. "Raleigh police, FBI, search
warrants, court, prison. How many other underage girls has Tasson
slept with?"

"A couple here and there, but it's hard to
say. If you have a fake ID, you generally don't shout it around,
you know?"

Cooper marched past me and headed for the
door. "I'm going to talk to Donna."

"Bet you aren't," Becky said, casually
picking up another cookie.

He opened the door to a deserted lobby and
let out a long-suffering breath. I couldn't say I was
surprised.

"After eighteen, the cops classify this sort
of thing as unlicensed solicitation. Something I'm sure this
butt-ugly jerk also used to blackmail them," I commented.

"Hey!" Tasson protested, in the process of
shrugging into his satin robe—not a pretty sight, let me tell you.
"My butt is not ugly."

Cooper shot him a look sharp enough to cut
through steel and got back on his iC.

* * *

By the time we pulled up in front of the Magical Gardens
apartments, dusk was creeping across the city, turning the air a
velvety dark blue. Our badges got us in without an argument and in
no time we were in front of 303.

"FBI, we need to speak with you, Ms.
Beaufort," Cooper called, knocking on the door for the third
time.

"Looks like we missed her," I said. "Do we
break the door down now?"

A look of pain crossed his face. "This isn't
a cheesy cop show. Innocent until proven guilty ring a bell?"

"Doesn't seem very efficient to me."

Cooper pounded on the door. "Open up, Ms.
Beaufort. We need to ask you a few questions."

"She's not home," a timid, elderly voice
said behind us.

I jumped and spun around.

A round, dumpling of a woman with a full
head of snow white hair looked at me from the doorway of the
apartment across the hall. "My stars, I've never seen anything like
that before. Where did you get it?"

The cool weight of my gun in my hand crawled
into my awareness. I straightened up, my face heating. "Sorry," I
muttered, holstering the weapon.

"That's all right, dear. It's the most
exciting thing that's happened to me in years." Her watery blue
eyes sparkled with humor that turned to appreciation as she took in
Cooper's broad shoulders and long legs. "He's quite nice, too," she
added.

I rolled my eyes. "What is this magical pull
you have with females?" I asked him.

"Animal magnetism." He winked at me and then
turned a seriously charming smile onto Marla's neighbor. "You don't
happen to know where she is, do you ma'am?"

"Well," her soft, papery cheeks flushed a
delicate pink, "as a matter of fact, I do." She moved out of her
doorway and closer to Cooper. "She's been keeping company," she
whispered.

"Medium height, buzz-cut black hair, lots of
tattoos?" I asked.

Her pleasant face compressed into a grimace.
"Oh goodness, no. I never did like him. 'Marla, you deserve
better', I used to tell her. This is her new boy. The one she took
up with about three months ago."

Three months? Plenty of time to decide that
Danny was a liability. Cooper and I glanced at each other.

"What's he like?" I asked.

"Tall fellow. Blonde hair. Good looking like
you, young man," she said, nodding to Cooper. She studied his face
a moment longer. "You could be related."

Nothing changed in his friendly demeanor,
but the air around him suddenly became charged with a sharp,
intense energy. "Do you know where they might be now?"

"Where she always is this time of the week.
With her new boy."

"Which is?" I asked, feeling a tug of
impatience. I didn't have a clue why Cooper was upset all of a
sudden, but I was sure the reason wasn't good.

"I don't remember the name
of the club, but I've heard it caters to...well,
all
types if you know
what I mean."

I didn't, so I looked at Cooper, hoping for
clarification.

"The Sagittarius?" he asked.

Her face lit up. "Yes, that's the one. Half
man, half beast. If you know what I mean."

"I certainly do, ma'am," he said, a sparkle
of amusement seeping back into his eyes.

"Are you really with the FBI?" the woman
asked.

"We are."

"How exciting." She turned back to her
apartment. "I can't wait to tell that know-it-all Carly Frigstater
in 300. This will top her 'my grandson's report on corrupt vampire
corporations is on the front page this week'," she mimicked in a
whiny, high-pitched voice.

"You two have made my day," she finished in
a normal tone filled with satisfaction. We returned her cheerful
little wave as she shut her door and then looked at each other in
bemusement.

"Thank the moon for nosey neighbors," Cooper
said.

"I've heard of The Sagittarius. It's that
mixed bar on Freedom Drive, isn't it?"

"Mixed, dangerous and the perfect place to
find everything or anyone that you'd need to kill a vamp and a
top-level practitioner." His gaze swept over me from head to toe
leaving behind a warm flush of energy.

"You're going to make me dress up, aren't
you?" I stated.

"This is one place we don't want to go in
looking like we work for the government."

"That's you, not me."

"You need to look like my date."

Panic shot through me. "Except I'm not."

He stepped closer and grazed the palm of his
hand lightly up my bare arm while he bent his head and inhaled the
scent of my hair. "You are tonight."

My alarm dissolved into riotous temptation
that tumbled straight past the pit of my stomach and didn't stop
until it hit my toes.

Uh, oh.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I stood in front of my apartment building, struggling to
resist the urge to tug down the hem of the only sort of dressy
thing I owned. Even with the black tights that I'd dug out of the
back of my underwear drawer, I felt exposed every time the wind
tried to look under my skirt.

"I hate this," I muttered, already missing
the feel of my Browning strapped to my thigh.

A few brave stars fought against the bank of
clouds looming toward the city from the West, but they didn't stand
a chance. The air already had that wet penny smell of an impending
summer storm. Not the best night to go out. We should call it
off.

I was debating messaging Cooper when he
pulled up to the curb in his tiny, white government car and peeled
himself out of the driver's side. He wore faded jeans, a light
green T-shirt that pulled across his muscular chest the way only
soft cotton can, and a nondescript black windbreaker. A smile
tugged at his mouth as he took in my outfit.

"This was your idea, not mine," I said,
angry and embarrassed.

"No, you look great. The boots make a nice
statement."

I frowned at him and started for the car.
"Where else am I going to hide my knives?"

"What? No small caliber pistols?" Cooper
beeped the car locked before I got to it, and I gave him a
questioning look. "We're taking the hoverbus. Less
conspicuous."

A half hour later we were tramping down
Freedom Drive toward the crowd milling in front of The Sagittarius.
I was surprised at the number of people considering it was Monday
night. I was even more shocked when Cooper grabbed my hand.

The heat of his palm against mine sent
ripples of awareness skimming up my arm and I tried to pull out of
his grip.

"We're together, remember?" he said
softly.

"I'm not good at pretending," I snapped, my
voice coming out rough as it pushed past the nervousness suddenly
constricting my throat.

"Neither am I."

"Not helping," I muttered.

We reached the edge of the crowd, which
saved me from trying to form a snappy comeback for whatever he'd
meant by that. I don't think I could have anyway. Cooper affected
me that way. From what I'd seen, he affected all women that way,
which was humiliating. I liked to think I had more sense than most
girls. Apparently not.