Midnight Mage

4

****

He nodded perfunctorily and growled, "Mind the glass," before disappearing inside.

I stepped carefully-flip-flops had clearly been a mistake-and walked into what looked like a bombed out building in a war zone. Beside the untouched window with its aforementioned view, there was a jagged hole in the wall roughly the size of a basketball. Weak sunlight filtered through the breach and plaster dust hung in the air like a haze. I looked around, my mind skipping details in order to take in the bigger picture. Destruction.

"Where are the cops?" I asked, my voice small.

"I wanted to look around before I called them."

I shook my head helplessly. "Why? Where's Rosie?"

A dark eyebrow rose. "Didn't you call her?"

My stomach clenched. "She didn't answer. Her car's outside, though. Oh, God. What if she was here? What if something's happened to her?"

Mal was across the room in seconds, his hands slamming onto my shoulders. Electricity bottomed out through my feet with an audible snap.

"Sorry," I whispered.

He released me to rub his palms over his face. "No, I'm sorry." He dropped his hands to stare at me. "Your power is outgrowing my spells again." For some inexplicable reason, in the last year my voltage had been increasing. The growth spurts were random, undetectable until something set me off, and always scary.

We didn't talk about it, but both Mal and I knew there would come a time when even his skills would fail to protect me. Or, more importantly, someone else.

"Can you redo them? Even stronger?"

He grimaced. "I have and did. Last night, and again just now. You're neutralizing them faster than I can rebuild."

I blinked dry eyes and refocused on the warped metal blob that had been my father's desk. My lightning-rod issues would have to wait in line.

Clearing my throat, I told him, "I called dad and left a message. Maybe he got sidetracked somewhere without service." I didn't believe it, but it was all I could come up with.

Mal's gaze was heavy on my face, but he finally cosigned my redirection. "Maybe."

He walked across the debris-strewn floor to the only untouched fixture in the room: a stacked filing cabinet. With a pass of his broad hand over the top, runes began glowing on the dull gray surface.

"Open."

Click.

He pulled out the top drawer and began rummaging through files, muttering about what a disorganized ass his brother was. I spent the time taking a longer look around, with no idea what I was looking for. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the ruin.

"It looks like a mage threw a hissy fit," I said.

Mal grunted. "Do you sense anything?"

As a part of my personal Ascension goody bag, I could sense and sometimes see the auras of supernaturals. Vamp auras felt like cool, tickling wind, shifters like a pulse. Only the auras of mages were visible and colorful, reflecting their level of power.

Occasionally, too, I could pick up on residual energies in a space once the owner was gone. Resonance, Mal called it. But only if the subject was powerful. An old vamp, an alpha shifter, or a mage ranked Emerald or higher.

I let my eyes unfocus a bit and scanned the room, then shook my head. Just Mal's aura and dust motes.

"No, I don't." I glanced at the warped desk. "You think it was a shifter?"