I race around her, jumping over boxes and dodging around a food cart. The guy ducks down an alley, and a car comes screeching out, slamming on the brakes at the last second to avoid hitting him. I don’t stop as fast, and my hands slap against the hood as I slide across, sprinting down the alley, which dead ends against a chain link fence.
Realizing he’s cornered, the guy ditches Gemma’s purse and pulls a knife from his pocket, flicking out the blade. Heat tingles the tips of my fingers. I clench my fist to try and quell the flames, but the guy advances and I throw my arms out to block him from slashing me with the knife.
I take a quick step back, fire breaking out along my fingers, and raise my leg up, bending my knee and kicking him hard in the back. He recovers quickly and spins around. His eyes widen when he sees the fire surrounding my hand, and for a split second, I think he’s going to tell me to stop, drop, and roll.
And then he realizes I’m the one controlling the fire.
“What the hell are you?” He raises the knife, stance going from predator to prey, needing to protect himself from me. I’d be lying if I said the power didn’t feel good. Deep down, I know that’s a bad, bad thing.
But right now, there’s a large man with a sharp knife feet from me.
“Freak!” he sneers, and slashes the knife through the air again. The fire burns brighter around my hand. I can feel the heat, but it doesn’t burn me or cause pain.
“Drop the knife,” I order, holding my hand out in front of me just like I would my own gun. “And put your hands on your head. You’re under arrest.”
I slide my feet forward, getting closer to him. The flames rise higher, the heat too much on his face. The knife clatters to the ground and he puts his hands up. Using my foot, I slide the knife away and bring my right hand down, shaking it to get rid of the flames. I need to call this in and have the guy arrested.
Before I can even get my phone, I hear the familiar sound of sirens, and a car door slamming shut right outside the alley. Shit. I clench my other fist, but it does no good. My heart is still pounding, adrenaline still pumping. Motherfucker.
I’m running out of time. I suck in a deep breath and slowly let it out, imagining my hands looking normal again. It’s a bullshit meditation Jacques has had me doing, and it actually works this time.
The flames go away not a moment too soon.
“Who the hell are you?” the guy asks again, oblivious to the officers coming at him.
“That’s something we’d both like to know,” I say pointedly, and step away so he can get cuffed. I’m still unclear on my new identity as a witch.
Once the guy is arrested, I pick up Gemma’s purse, brushing off dirt and gravel, and turn to go back to the street. She’s standing on the corner near the alley, face pale and looking visibly shaken. She looks at me, the purse, and then my hands.
She couldn’t have seen.
Or could she?
No. There’s no way. It happened too fast…right? Goddammit. I need to learn how to control my powers.
“Thanks,” she says, voice weak, and takes her purse. “You just…you just went after him like it was nothing.”
I shrug, never one to be comfortable with compliments. “It’s my job.”
Gemma gives me a blank stare.
“Literally,” I go on. “I’m a detective.”
The officers bring the guy out of the alley and head to the cop car. “Nice work, Bisset. There’s been a warrant out for him for two weeks now,” one of the officers says.
I brush off that compliment too. “I was in the right place at the right time.” I look back at Gemma, and if I thought she was pale and stricken before, I was mistaken. Because right now she looks like she might pass out.
“Gemma?” I reach out for her, thinking I’m going to have to scoop her up before she hits the pavement.
She jerks back, eyes going wide. A weird feeling starts to form inside the pit of my stomach, warning me something bad is coming.
“You’re Detective Ace Bisset?” She swallows hard and lowers her eyes to the ground. “The same one who caught the vampire murderer?”
“Yeah. Disappointed?”
A few seconds pass before she forces a smile and looks up. There’s something in her eyes, something she’s trying hard to repress. I can’t place it, not yet.
“No, not at all. I just, uh, thought you’d be bigger, that’s all. You just look so…so normal.”
