Chapter 15. Annette #2
“What is it?” When I joined her, she wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This one has the strongest sulfur scent so far.”
I started to work on the lock, but Jenny stopped me.
“Annette . . . this is Morgan’s locker.”
My thoughts stalled. Why would there be sulfur in Morgan’s locker? This had to be a joke. Was I supposed to laugh?
“Are you sure?” A stupid question, I knew. Jenny was a Hunter. She didn’t make mistakes when tracking people.
“I know his scent.” She stepped aside to let me open the lock.
My hands were unsteady. It took longer to get this one open. Once I did, a single look inside confirmed what she’d found. Morgan’s green-and-black spring jacket hung from a hook. Blake was always grumbling about Morgan forgetting to bring it home after school.
Morgan kept his locker neater than the others I’d checked. I searched it from top to bottom. I found a single loose pill in his jacket pocket.
Jenny took the pill and added it to the envelope with the others we’d found.
“Damn it, Morgan.” I slammed the locker. The sound echoed down the hall. I punched the door, leaving a large dent in the center.
Morgan had so much going for him. He was handsome, confident, and bright. He was smarter than this.
“I’m sorry.” Jenny put a hand gently on my shoulder.
“Me, too.”
We stood in silence for a minute before Jenny asked, “What can I do?”
I gave her the same answer she’d given me. “Help me end this.” I hit the locker again. “Sage probably got his pills from Morgan’s room. He’s over at their house all the time. Maybe he was snooping around, or maybe Morgan gave him a sample.”
Which would suggest Morgan wasn’t just taking drugs, he was dealing them.
“There are more lockers to check,” Jenny said quietly. “If you’re not ready, I can—”
“Our next step should be to question the subject.” According to the clock in the hall, it was almost midnight.
“We don’t have to—”
“Morgan is our best lead, and we know where he lives.” I started walking toward the chemistry classroom. “Let’s go interrogate my grandson.”
· · ·
I wasn’t in a talking mood, so Jenny explained what we had found as we exited the school.
“Your own grandson?” Ronnie shook his head. “That sucks. He’s the one who started to get in my face the first time I came to the shop, right? I liked him. He was fiery.”
I didn’t answer. I concentrated on walking to the van as wave after wave of alternating anger and fear crashed over me.
“Alex has been busy,” said Temple. “Summoning-type magic, mostly.”
“Tell me he didn’t conjure up his own pet shoggoth,” said Jenny.
“Nothing that powerful,” he said. “The spell he and his after-school sorcery club cast most often was a version of Nabu-rihtu-usur’s ritual but smaller.”
“How small?” asked Ronnie.
“He couldn’t have summoned anything bigger than a Smurf.”
“Morgan can tell us what they were doing,” I said quietly.
“Alex cast a different spell a couple of months ago,” Temple continued. “He did this one solo, and something came through. I couldn’t see exactly what it was, but it was humanoid and significantly larger than a Smurf.”
Ronnie adjusted his katana. “Whatever it is, we can handle it.”
“I also picked up a whiff of surveillance magic,” said Temple. “I didn’t have time to track it down.”
Jenny’s breath hissed between her teeth. “Meaning there’s a chance Alex knows we’re onto him.”
I wasn’t worried about that. Alex would have found out sooner or later. Especially if Morgan was feeding him info.
I climbed into the back of the van. Let Jenny drive. She knew where Blake lived.
I pulled out my phone and texted Blake to let him know we were on our way over. He didn’t answer, of course.
I was supposed to be a detective, but I’d missed the signs from my own grandson.
Blake had done everything he could to give his kids a normal life. I, on the other hand, brought them over every Saturday to hang out with a wizard and a Hunter in a shop that literally lived on magic.
Had I been too open with Morgan, whetting his appetite for the supernatural? Or had I not been open enough, leaving him frustrated and curious and unprepared for the dangers?
Would Blake ever speak to me again after this?
When we arrived at my son’s house, the windows were dark and the street was quiet.
Jenny twisted around in her seat. “What’s the plan, Annette?”
I refocused on the present. I wanted to kick down the front door, march up the steps, drag Morgan out of bed, and shake the stupid out of him. Instead, I pointed to a second-story window. “That’s Morgan’s bedroom. Ronnie, stay outside in case he tries to sneak away and make a break for it.”
“You really think he’d do that?” asked Jenny.
“Fuck if I know.” I was so angry, I was shaking. “Fuck if I know anything about that boy.” To Ronnie, I said, “If he runs, yell for us. If you hurt him, I will personally drop you on Hell’s doorstep, understand? And take off that stupid sword.”
He nodded hard. “Yes, ma’am.”
I left the van and started up the driveway. Jenny intercepted me before I reached the porch. She stood between me and the door, facing me with a stern expression.
“What?” I snapped.
“Look at your hands.”
I looked down. My fingers were curled, and my claws were partially extended. I forced my hands to relax. Slowly, the nails receded. “Satisfied? I’m fine.”
She didn’t argue or raise her voice. But she didn’t move out of my way, either. She just tilted her head and watched me with those sad brown eyes. “Are you?”
I didn’t answer. Which was answer enough.
She took my hand and squeezed. “We’re here. Morgan is our family, too. Just like you.”
“You are so fucking cheesy.” I swallowed and returned the squeeze.
I waited for Temple to join us, and for Ronnie to get into position in the side yard. Then the rest of us walked up to the front door together.
I knocked hard. After a minute, I knocked again.
“They’re waking up,” Jenny assured me. “I hear Morgan and Blake stirring.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “Ava’s snores are pretty ragged. Blake should probably get her checked for apnea.”
A light came on inside. My son opened the door, wearing nothing but loose pajama pants. I was happy to see he’d regained most of the weight he’d lost after the divorce. He stared at us, and the weariness vanished, replaced by fear. “What is it? Did you find Sage?”
“I take it you didn’t see my texts,” I said. “Can we come in?”
For once, there was no argument. He stepped back and waved us into the living room. “What’s going on?”
“We haven’t found Sage yet,” said Jenny.
I paced the length of the room. “We have to talk to Morgan.”
“Why?” he asked.
I didn’t want to tell him. I wanted to protect him from this, like I’d tried to protect him as a child. We’d both seen how well that had worked out. “We learned more about the pills Sage took. The police are calling the drugs black magic.” I was stalling. “We found one in Morgan’s locker.”
Blake stood there for so long, I started to question whether I’d spoken out loud. Finally, he raked a hand through his hair and said, “You’re supposed to be finding Sage. Why were you poking around in my son’s locker? Mom, did you break into the school?”
“We all did,” said Temple.
“Blake, please.” I reached out, but he pulled away.
“Maybe you made a mistake,” said Blake. “How do you know it was Morgan’s locker?”
I reminded myself that I’d reacted the same way. “Jenny recognized his scent. And Morgan left his jacket in his locker again.”
His lips were tight, his fists clenched, and if I knew my son at all, he was about three seconds from trying to throw us out of his house.
Please don’t make me do this the hard way, I pleaded silently.
“The drugs are coming from Morgan’s chemistry teacher,” said Jenny. “Alex Barclay. He’s . . . someone I used to know.”
Blake wavered slightly. It hurt that Jenny could get through to him in a way I couldn’t.
“How dangerous is he?” he asked.
Jenny hesitated. “We don’t know yet.”
“Dangerous enough,” I said firmly. “Morgan’s in trouble. Please let us help him.”
He looked past me to Jenny and Temple, then bowed his head. When he spoke, he sounded broken. “I’ll get him.”
“There’s no need.” Jenny turned toward the stairs. “I know you’re there. You can come down now, Morgan.”
“You thought I wouldn’t see you snooping around my classroom, Jenny? Did you forget about the mirror witch we fought at the fun house down by Alameda? I was the one who figured out how she was watching us, remember? Not you or Kayla or Raj or any of them. Me.
“All I needed were a few tiny mirror shards positioned throughout the classroom, and I could see everything. My students are convinced I have eyes in the back of my head.
“I suppose this means the game is afoot. And it’s my move.”