“Shark was so hopped up that nothing could get through to his addled brain, not even world-class pheromones like yours.” I sighed, thinking of the work that needed to be done still. “Do you have enough energy left to help me put a spell of protection on the deli? I cast one here when I started at med school and until now it worked - no robberies, no violence. But something stronger is needed. This shouldn’t happen again.”
“Good idea. As I said before, I’m particularly good at shielding, so I’ll take the lead.” She cocked an eyebrow at me, clearly waiting to see if I was going to go gorilla on her and insist that I shape the spell.
“Good. I’m only middlin’ at shielding and repulsion spells.”
Maggie nodded approvingly. “Plus, you must be tired to the bone after that healing work.” She took my hand, long cool fingers interlacing with mine.
I drew a shaky breath as lightning jolts of Maggie energy swept through me. I forced myself to relax and flow, putting my energy at her disposal. She wasn’t kidding about being good at shielding. The protection she built was a thing of beauty, like the work of a first-class architect. No armed thugs would enter the deli any decade soon.
But she allowed nothing personal to show. I’m not as good at shielding, so she must have picked up some of my feelings. She gave me a spooked stare when we finished the spell work and released hands. I let go of her reluctantly, but figured I had to if she was going to believe that I wasn’t a crazed stalker.
Before I could ask for her phone number, the cops came over and separated us to take statements. Yes, officer, there were three robbers. Shark was the one who shot Rajiv. They deserved some credit for allowing me to save his life. Yes, I’d put Shark out of commission with canned goods.
I was so tired I was weaving on my feet by the time they had finished with the questions. Mercifully, they said I could wait until later in the day to go to the station and sign my statement.
As soon as they finished with me, I looked around for Maggie. No enchantresses in sight. My pulse spiked with alarm as I asked the nearest policeman, “The woman, Maggie Macrae. Where is she?”
He shrugged, his attention elsewhere. “She left after giving her statement.”
I wanted to howl that she couldn’t leave, we had unfinished business. I was heading for the door when my brother David showed up, looking even scruffier than I did. He’s an NYPD cop, the best detective in the city because he’s a Guardian enforcer and not much gets by him. “Jesus, Charlie!” He gave me a bone-cracking hug. “I heard about this robbery on the radio and had a hunch you were here.” Being Dave, it would have been more than a hunch. “Whose blood are you wearing?”
I stared down at my gory sweats. “Rajiv’s. But he’ll be OK, I think.”
“Because of you?”
I nodded. Dave knew enough to guess the rest. I’d used my healing abilities on him often enough. He had a talent for getting banged up. “I need to get moving,” I said numbly. “There was a woman here, Maggie Macrae, and I have to find her.”
“Macrae?” He recognized the Guardian name, of course.
I nodded again. “She persuaded two of the yahoos to drop their guns. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .”
Dave blocked my way. He can read me pretty well. “You liked her?”
“For me, she’s why men fight,” I said impatiently. “Now get out of my way!”
His hand locked onto my arm. “You’re dead on your feet, little brother. And don’t you have a final exam later today? Go home, get some sleep, take your exam, clean up so you don’t look like a fugitive from a slasher flick, and then find her.”
“I need to find her now, David,” I growled. “Will you remove your hand before I break it?”
He looked startled - I don’t lose my temper often - but let me go. “Want me to find her for you?”
Which he could easily, since enforcers are always brilliant finders. “Hell, no,” I snapped. “Women are suckers for the tall, dark and dangerous thing you have down so well. I’ll find her myself.”
“Would that you were right about the tall, dark and dangerous thing,” he said wryly. “Go left, then left again for half a block. And good luck.”
As I said, he’s a great finder, and I’ll admit that it saved some time to have him point me in the right direction. But that still left a long avenue block of apartment buildings. I followed his directions. Left, then left again. My brain felt wrapped in cotton wool and I wanted nothing more than to collapse anywhere, a bed by preference though concrete would do. But I had to find Maggie Macrae before I could sleep.
Some senses operate better when you’re tired. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift as I looked for Maggie’s bittersweet Belgian chocolate energy signature. Chocolate and the smoothest Highland whisky, yesss . . .
I headed into the third apartment building on the right. A sleepy doorman was on duty. He came awake fast at the sight of my bloody self, and he was six and a half feet of frowning disapproval.
Before he could call 911, I said reassuringly, using all the persuasive magic I had, “Could you ring Ms Macrae in apartment 30D?”
Glad I’d been able to pull the apartment number out of the ether, I continued, “I’m respectable, really. Ms Macrae and I were both in a convenience-store robbery and I want to check that she’s OK. Tell her it’s Doctor Charles Owens.”
It must have been the magic that persuaded him, because it sure wasn’t my appearance. He rang up to her apartment. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Ms Macrae, but there’s a fellow here who calls himself Doctor Owens. Shall I let him in?”
There was a long pause and my heart sank. If Maggie said no, I didn’t have the energy to storm the building. Not tonight, anyhow.