Patrick frowned, dodging around a dolly someone had left unmanned on the sidewalk near a delivery van. “It’s not contained in the apartment.”
“What isn’t?” Jono asked.
“The taint residue from the attack. It was only present where the bodies were for the last two murders. Now it’s spread out across the street.”
“I take it that’s a bit out of the ordinary?”
“It’s different. Means the MO has changed, and that’s not good.”
“Or maybe the cops were notified of the body earlier?”
Patrick shook his head. “What’s been left of the spell doesn’t work that way.”
He dug out his badge as they approached the police line, flipping the thin wallet open to show the policeman on watch duty. They ducked under the police tape once the officer cleared them and headed for the apartment building.
Allison stepped through the entrance as they approached, squinting at them. “Glad to see you made it. We got a mess up there.”
“You got a mess out here,” Patrick told her. “The taint has spread to the street. You’ll need to quarantine the area and get someone to scrub everyone’s souls.”
Allison gave him a surprised look. “The magic at the prior crime scenes has never done that before.”
The taint had always been contained to the apartments where the sacrifices had died. This was more than fading residue or a spell gone wrong, because someone was still dead up there.
This, Patrick knew with grim certainty, was a distraction. One that still needed to be dealt with.
Patrick drew out his magic, wincing a little at the way it made his nerves burn. A tiny mageglobe spun into existence against the palm of his hand, the dull blue glow mostly hidden from sight. He formed the searching spell in his mind, casting it through the mageglobe to help better focus his magic.
He dropped his shields and expanded his awareness, the taint easier to sense this way. Patrick walked past Allison, following the pull of his magic toward the end of the block where more curious onlookers stood. Patrick’s gaze skimmed over faces, barely taking a second for each one, until someone caught his eye.
Caught his magic.
Dark eyes in a thin face met his for a split second before the stranger ducked his head and ran off like hellhounds were nipping at his heels.
“I fucking hate it when they run,” Patrick said to no one in particular.
He ran after the suspect, taking the most direct path he could. It meant dodging around the curious crowd, feet pounding against asphalt as Patrick followed the taint of hell trailing after the man on the run.
Patrick had cleared the crowd and had eyes on the guy when the hellish taint faded beneath a different sort of magic. The man reached the corner of the block before skidding to a halt long enough to thrust his arm in Patrick’s direction and snarl out an incantation. The full-sleeve tattoo on his left arm seemed to move. The spiraling form of a serpent dragon exploded away from the man with a thunderousboomthat rattled windows all around them.
The dragon filled the street in an instant, a monstrous creature of bright red and matte black, the heavy stylized lines of the tattoo disappearing beneath seemingly solid flesh and glistening fangs. It dug its claws into the street but left no damage behind as it advanced.
People screamed as the dragon opened its mouth in a roar that ripped through the air, the hint of fire in the back of its throat impossible to miss. Patrick ran right toward it, ignoring Jono’s furious shout from close behind him.
Patrick had seen dragons before.
This wasn’t a dragon.
It lacked the gravitas of those beings, the depth of age and shrewdness in the eyes. Patrick hadn’t felt the subtle shift of power that came with the sloughing off of whatever skin they hid in before emerging whole and powerful in their original bodies. The physics involved in calculating the mass displacement always made Patrick’s head hurt just thinking about it. The Old Man he once served under had made it look seamless.
Patrick ran into the dragon’s gaping mouth before the flames burst forth, flinging a pair of mageglobes into the structure of the spell ahead of him. Raw magic exploded around him, ripping through the illusion and turning it into nothing but colored smoke that made his eyes and nose burn. Blinking the sting away, Patrick kept running, still following that thin presence of tainted magic mixed with the signature of a practitioner that felt like a sorcerer to his senses.
The illusion drifted away on a muggy breeze, nothing more than a fading smokescreen now. Patrick got clear and kept his eyes on the target when he wasn’t scanning the buildings around them for any overwatch threats. Up ahead, the sorcerer had reached the next intersection and wasn’t stopping; neither was the traffic. The guy ran across the street, heedless of the moving vehicles around him, and made it to the other side without getting run over.
Which was an utter fucking shame.
When Patrick made it to the intersection, the lights had already changed—but he raced into the street against a red light anyway. Horns honked at him as the screech of brakes filled his ears. The shouts and swearing coming from the drivers were easily ignored.
The car that didn’t stop demanded his full attention.
