“Only if you know how to use the damn thing,” I replied dryly. “I personally prefer not to carry a weapon that can easily be used against me.”
“Well, in this case, given what we might well be dealing with, I ask you to humor me and take a couple of small throwing knives. I’ve placed a spell on them that disrupts any magic cast at the holder, and that might come in handy.”
It certainly would, although it didn’t actually counter my fears of such a weapon being turned against me. I raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean you have an arsenal in the back of your car?”
“I prefer to call it a small but worthy selection of protections.”
I stopped beside him and looked into the trunk. A lockable false bottom had been built into the base of it. Lifting the lid had revealed a plethora of vials, knives, charms, and even a gun or two. “Why would a businessman feel the need to carry such an arsenal with him?”
“Because one never knows when one will come across a rogue demon or dark witch.”
I glanced at him, my eyebrows raised. “I would have thought you capable enough magically to take care of both.”
“Oh, I am, but that does not preclude the usefulness of conventional weapons.” He reached in and picked up a couple of sheathed knives that had some sort of metal clip attached to the back of them. “These would be a good size for you. They’re short enough that you won’t damage yourself unsheathing them, and they clip directly onto your belt.”
I accepted them dubiously. “I’m not convinced I can draw one of these faster than I can throw a repelling spell.”
“Perhaps not, but it’s never a bad idea to have additional protections when going up against a more powerful enemy. But speaking of protections”—he reached back into the trunk and plucked what looked to be a leather-and-wire-bound bracelet from the small hook holding it in place—“wear this.”
“Do you give all your women handmade silver bracelets?” I asked, amused, though I knew the minute I slipped it over my hand and the magic within it came to life that it was a powerful warding charm.
“Only the ones I don’t want dead.”
Which does suggest, Atticus commented,that there are some women in your life that you do want dead.
René laughed. “Maybe not dead but certainly well away from me. The clingers can be bad when you’re wealthy and considered a catch.”
“‘Clingers’ is not what I’d call a nice term.”
“It’s better than some of the others I could have used.” He took out a half dozen small vials of holy water, handed me four, then slammed the lid. “Shall we go?”
I tucked the bottles into my handbag, then clipped on the knives and wrapped a quick leash spell around the hilts. I might not be able to throw with any degree of proficiency, but at least by leashing them, I could control the direction of their flights and even recall them. I locked the car then shoved the keys into my pocket and followed him down the street. The apartment block’s side entrance was gated and locked, but a quick spell soon fixed that. We walked up the steps and followed the path down to the rear of the property. No one paid us any heed, and there didn’t appear to be any security cameras anywhere, which, while it was odd for any building in an area this wealthy, might have been accounted for by the obvious building work happening within the nearest two apartments.
The wooden back fence was newish looking, with the pickets on this side rather than the posts and rails, which would make it more difficult to clamber over—at least for me. I’d never been very good at hauling my butt over things.
Atticus leapt easily onto the top of the fence, balancing lightly as he studied the property’s rear yard.The spell doesn’t quite reach the rear fence, so you have room to clamber over before you have to crawl.
“And the house?” René asked. “Any sign of movement or additional security?”
There are cameras, but they are pointed at either the right side pathway or the pool area.
“What about additional magic?” I asked. “Anything around windows or sliding doors?”
Not that I can see, though the minute you raise a spell to open either, they will sense it.
“Yes, which is why we won’t be raising a spell,” René said.
I glanced at him. “I’m presuming that means you’re proficient at breaking and entering?”
“Spell work wasn’t the only skill I learned from my father.”
“You obviously had an interesting childhood.”
“You have no idea.” He motioned to the fence. “You want a boost up and over?”
“Please.”
He immediately crouched and cupped his hands. I stepped into them, and he thrust upward, boosting me toward the top of the fence. I grabbed it, swung my legs over, then dropped down to the other side, my fingers sweeping the ground as I regained balance. The rear yard was as shadowed as the front, but it was at least clear of trees. The fenced pool area lay to the right, along with a small building I presumed was a changing room and/or bathroom, while well-manicured grass covered the rest of it. The wall of magic lay three feet away and was roughly six feet high—just the right height to catch intruders and low-flying birds.
