Solving the Vampire Murders

thirty-three

Torren's body crackled with a magical charge—static electricity lifting the hairs on his arms. Power and anger were buzzing in the bones of his wrists, surging towards his knuckles like a cresting wave. The very air around him seemed to shift as radiant heat issued from his fingers like a downed power line. Torren shook out his hands, cursing as he raked a hand through his hair.

"This isn't working, Mazia. I don't think I can do this."

Mazia said nothing in response. She still had her eyes closed and held her hands out for his. Patiently waiting for him to try again.

In his frustration, Torren hesitated before placing his hands atop hers. Just for a moment, just long enough to take a breath. They had been at it for what felt like hours—unsuccessfully trying to establish communication with the ghost woman—sitting cross-legged on the warm sand, close enough that the points of their knees were touching.

It felt futile. Just sitting here. He should be doing something else. Anything else. Catching up with Jones or letting Mandy know he was alright.

God, how was he ever going to explain all of this to Mandy?

He should call her.

One more try.

A charge began to build in the space between their hands, magic caressing his palms like warm silk. It traveled up his arms and over his chest, a sense of surety and closeness burrowing in his heart.

Mazia opened one eye, a restrained smile puckering her lips.

"We are starting again. Yes?"

Torren tried to wipe the exasperated look from his face. Mazia shut her eye and released her smile. Face returning to that absolute stillness.

Letting his own eyes close, Torren dropped his hands into hers and focused on the magic between their hands.

It was then, as their palms met, that he felt the bond between them open. Mazia curled her fingers around his, and the ambient noises of the lake began to fade. The worry and tension collecting along his forehead released. Torren felt his own heart fall into a syncopated rhythm with hers. Free and unencumbered by the effects of panic.

They were two sides of the same coin. No matter what came next, they would do it together. As one.

The next sound Torren heard was Mazia's low voice. He didn't hear it like he usually would, this sound seemed to be coming from within. Like Mazia was narrating a dream.

"Open your mind's eye."

Letting go, Torren felt a fresh stirring of magic between their palms, warm heat pulsing up his forearms. He waited for the yawning sensation. The stretch and release of power he had felt in Jones' living room. But, there was nothing. Torren shifted his seat on the sand, focusing harder.

Nothing.

Disappointment and frustration crept back in, but he fought against it. Trying to listen to the steady rhythm of Mazia's breath and heart.

The Guild medallion around his neck burned red hot, like a snap of hot grease against the hollow of his throat, and Torren's eyes flew open. The medallion was pulsing with red light again, the color spreading over his skin like a bloodstain.

Mazia flicked her own eyes open, simply staring at the light. A question pulling her brows together. Torren watched as her calm facade faltered, mouth tightening into a line.

"You are keeping something from me, no?"

Swallowing hard, Torren's grip on her hands slackened.