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Under the past leadership, Darius and I wouldn’t have been allowed inside. The old coven leader had been a bit of a racist against demons, and those prejudices got her killed by one of her own people.
Kids race back and forth in the main entry hall in everyday clothing, which is a far sight better than the robes they were forced to wear before. The new headmaster doesn’t want this place to look like a cult. It’s a school like any other. They just teach magic here in addition to English and Math.
We find Xander and Reese in their office, and Reese’s ugly little dragon familiar lets out an alarmed squawk when we enter.
“Don’t worry, Flint’s not with us,” Pen assures the alarmed beast.
Reese and Flint’s familiars donotget along, which is entirely Anny’s fault, as she tries to eat the ugly thing every time they’re in the same room.
As Reese settles his familiar back on his shoulder, Xander stands from his desk and smooths a hand through his short brown hair. “Hey, we weren’t expecting visitors. What can we do for you?”
While young, Xander is one of the most powerful witches Flint’s encountered in a long time, and his younger brother Reese is a close runner-up. If anyone can figure out the symbol on the hand bone, it’s these two.
Pen steps forward to set the evidence bag on Xander’s desk. “We found this in a pit of bones last night. The bones have since vanished, so this is our only clue as to what’s happening. We’re hoping you can help identify the symbol burned into the bones.”
Curiosity fills Reese’s fae-touched eyes, and he rises from his desk to join us. His gaze sweeps over Darius, the slash of brown across the blue of one eye allowing him to see more than most people.
I always wondered what he saw when he looked at me when Darius and I shared a body. Did he see Darius’s physical form superimposed over mine? Or was Darius only a different ball of fire energy within my body?
Reese’s gaze moves past us to Johannsson, who hovers near the door looking uncomfortable, and he lets out a short laugh. “I remember you.”
We all turn to look at Johannsson, who frowns. “I don’t think so.”
“No, I do.” He looks at his brother. “He arrested us, remember?”
“Yeah,” Xander says shortly. “We were breaking and entering. We deserved it.”
“Wait a second.” Johannsson steps farther into the room, squinting at them. “You’re those two little punks whose daddy sprung them on a technicality!”
“If by daddy you mean Kellen Cassius, the demon who owned our souls at the time, then sure, that’s totally what happened.” Xander pulls the evidence bag closer. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with here.”
“Hold on.” Johannsson strides up to the desk to grab the bag. “We can’t have criminals touching evidence.”
Reese widens his eyes at him. “But our daddy made sure no charges were ever filed.”
“They’re on the approved list with the JTFPI.” I take the bag back from Johannsson and set it on the table. “Their dip into the criminal side would have come up already if it was an issue.”
Johannsson’s eyes narrow. “TheConservatoryis on the approved list, and it was sanctioned under the previous coven leader. Has it been recertified?”
It’s unlikely anyone has thought of doing that. The city has always had a hands-off approach when it comes to the school, since it keeps to itself and is the only place outside of the Bone Yard to get magical assistance. We didn’t rock the boat when we took it over, and the city just looked the other way.
That Johannsson brought it up shocks me. He’s never been known for being a great detective, but he’s been trying harder lately, and that effort is now getting in our way.
Pen rolls her eyes. “Don’t choose now to be a pain in the ass, Paul. That hand is at least a hundred years old. Whoever killed them is already dead, so there’s no justice that will be obstructed.”
“Pretend I didn’t say anything,” Reese advises. “It’s not like there’s a record, anyway.”
I tap Reese on the arm. “Rule of thumb is that if the officer doesn’t remember arresting you, don’t bring it up.”
He nods and mimes zipping his lips.
“I can’t just ignore—”
Xander pops open the bag and upends it on his desk. “Too late now. Evidence is out of the bag.”
Johannsson shakes his head. “You’rethe pains in the asses, not me. Sign the bag.”
Xander dutifully opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a Sharpie to scribble his name on the plastic.
