Courts and Cabals by G. D'Moore (top 10 ebook reader .txt) 📗

else to say as I gave her a final bow and backed away, careful to not show her my back.

Jerome looked even more shocked than when they’d enter the plateau, and not even Chloe’s naked grace could hold his attention anymore.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Cam,” Chloe’s smile was pure intimidation as she followed us down the hill to the carved entrance. “Second times the charm.”

“That’s not how the saying goes,” I shot back.

“I don’t care,” she continued to smile. “You’ve got until midnight tomorrow,” with that, she pushed us through the glamour entryway, and back into the hall.

The changeling I knew gave me a sad shake of the head. “Sorry, Cam. Next time I see you I’ll be compelled to kill you.”

“Fuck my life,” I growled and stomped down the hallway. Everything was going to shit, and I only had one way out of it.

***

The investigation was a bunch of bullshit. Vernon had put the professors, and even the Dean, through everything he could think of. There were only so many ways to conceal something you’d done with magic, and the tests he’d done should at least indicate something. He had jack shit.

“Well,” the Dean had a smug look on her face.

“Wait,” Vernon didn’t add a please, he was that frustrated.

He backed out of hearing range, and Wood followed him. “Well?” she asked the same question.

“I’ve got nothing,” he ground his teeth in frustration. Granted this type of investigation wasn’t his bread and butter, but with his skill, power, and artifacts, he should at least have a lead on something.

“Maybe the data was bad,” she offered helpfully. She could see he was pissed, and was at least trying to be nice. A night between the sheets didn’t exactly make them friends, but the brotherhood of law enforcement connected them at some level.

“Maybe,” he conceded, but it would be the first time the data crunchers got something wrong on this level. There were stringent algorithms, filters, and criteria an incident had to meet before reaching an agent’s hands. They were a limited resource, and wasting their time was bad for everyone.

“I’ve got one last thing and then I’m all out of ideas,” he started to head back over to the Dean. “Thank you everyone for your time this morning. I know it’s the last place you wanted to be,” that got a few appreciative chuckles. “You’re all free to go. Dean,” he called as the stately woman turned to leave. “I just need the data from the student’s physical, and to survey the scene of the incident. After that, I’ll have everything for my report, and I’ll get out of your hair.” The last statement seemed to be the magic words.

He had the medical data on his tablet in under five minutes, and a member of the maintenance staff was taking him to the scene right away. The school grounds were beautiful, and even though it was Saturday, students were walking around with their backpacks slung over their shoulders. They all looked him over with questioning eyes, and most spotted the gun on Wood’s hip. Along with her badge, they gave her a wide berth; some even turning around and walking the other way as they approached.

She inhaled deeply. “Like I’m going to bust a billionaire’s kid for marijuana possession,” she laughed as the man leading them came to a halt.

“This is it.” The man looked tired. His weathered face unhappy that he was probably in on his day off.

“Sorry, I’ll be quick,” Vernon felt worse for this working fellow than the teachers and students whose lives he’d interrupted.

“Stupid,” he mentally slapped himself. “I should have come here first.” Within a second something wasn’t adding up.

“Excuse me,” he gestured the man over. “This is where it happened?”

“Yeah,” the guy gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m the one who found the kid. He was right here,” the man drew an outline on the grass.

“Thank you, you’ve been incredibly helpful,” Vernon dismissed him, and pulled out various artifacts.

“What, do you have something?” Wood bent down next to him and sniffed, engaging her shifter senses. His were probably better, but hers were nothing to scoff at.

“What do you smell?” he asked, as he waved the devices and enacted a few quick rituals.

She took her time and took several deep breaths. “Nothing,” she concluded with a shrug.

“Exactly,” he was grinning like he was about to get laid again.

“What?” she hadn’t put two and two together yet.

“A day ago, this was the sight of a lightning strike,” he explained. “We should be seeing dead grass, blackened soil, remnants of a fire, and everything else that comes along with a billion volts of energy hitting the ground.”

“I guess,” she chewed on the issue. “But knowing this place, they probably used magic to clean it up. I wouldn’t leave a blackened crater if people were paying me forty grand a head.”

“True,” Vernon nodded, “but I’ve got no magical traces. No one came here to regrow the grass, repair the land, or dispatch the stench of burnt hair and ozone. If we didn’t have data suggesting it, medical reports, and eye witnesses who are attesting to it, I wouldn’t think there was a lightning strike at all.” Now he had her attention.

“What does that mean?” she looked as intrigued as he felt.

“It means we need to talk with Cameron Dupree.”

Chapter 12

I didn’t waste any time. Aveena had made her decision. Chloe would be gunning for me at 12:01 Monday morning, and I wasn’t going to sit around vulnerable like this. The Fae noble had decreed that I was safe until then, but I didn’t trust her farther than I could throw her. This could be the perfect ruse to lure me into a false sense of security, and give Chloe the opportunity to strike.