Black Truth, White Lies (Black Hat Bureau 3)

“I don’t like this.” I craned my neck for a better view. “Do you sense anything?”

“Magic.” Clay gripped the wood until it creaked. “Tons of it.”

“Um.” Colby peeked over my forehead. “There are a lot of magical creatures here, right?”

“Yeah.” I saw where she was headed but waited to hear her spin on it. “What are you thinking?”

“That maybe the daemon, and Clay, sense that. Maybe it’s not a single big magic. Maybe it’s a lot of little ones.”

“Not bad, Shorty.” Clay tipped his head. “It’s possible.”

As the daemon spent longer and longer underwater, I began to sweat, and my chest ached with strain as if I were down in the muck with him, struggling to drag oxygen into my starving lungs.

“What if there is big magic?” The tips of my nails lengthened to claws that bit into the wood. “What if the creatures, their magic, the whole sanctuary, is meant to conceal that?”

“Rue.” Clay rested a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”

Air slipped past my lips, but I couldn’t breathe. “I…”

There was no internal debate. No external explanation. Only crystalline understanding.

The daemon was in trouble. Asa was in trouble. And I was going in after them.

I leapt over the railing into the murky water before Clay could stop me, and swam for the last place where I saw the daemon and dove. I kept my eyes open, not that it helped, and swallowed half the swamp in a scream when a clawed hand closed around my elbow.

Gentle pats on the head assured me I had found the daemon, but when I pulled on him, he didn’t budge.

He was stuck.

And his grip was growing weaker with every heartbeat.

With the daemon anchoring me, I swung my free arm in a widening circle to determine the problem. I didn’t brush against the expected tree or root or debris. I hit magic. Black magic. A blistering wall of it.

A hard zap left me tasting ozone as it traveled through my body, its flavor somehow familiar.

Shaking off that peculiar sensation, I homed in on the heart of the spell, identifying a potent ward beyond my skill set. Whoever crafted it was a true master. It wasn’t budging unless they decided it should budge.

But I didn’t need to tear it down. I wasn’t sure I could, even with Colby’s help. I just needed it to let go.

Hands braced on the daemon’s shoulders, I fed power into him, drawing from Colby, until he glowed beneath me. The ward shied from that white magic and spat him free. The brightness stung my eyes, but in the deepest shadows, I made out bleached bones picked clean and piled high.

Nails biting into the daemon’s skin, I dragged him up after me until his head broke the surface.

“Rue—” he gurgled, “—save me.”

“You’re going to drown if you don’t shut your mouth.” The dope was actually smiling, like he was having fun. “Back to the boardwalk with you.” I swam with him still latched on to my elbow, and he kicked his feet to keep pace. “Clay?” I spat foul-tasting water. “Can you give us a hand?”

“Rue.” Colby glided over me but yelped when a fish jumped out of the water. “I’ll, uh, wait over there.”

That kid would be the death of me. The more she ventured into the world, the more it tried to kill her.

“Sure thing, Dollface.” He flattened his stomach on the boardwalk and reached down for my arms. “Careful.”

The daemon sank up to his ears as I gripped the rail and hauled myself back over it to safety.

A few grunts, an inventive swear, and a bellow of daemonic rage later, he landed beside me.

“Do you need CPR?” Clay towered over me. “A shower? Fresh clothes? A cookie?”