Boundary Crossed (Boundary Magic #1)(60)

As the mouse died, its spark didn’t just fade out—it changed into that same sickly, yellowish-brown, concentrated mist that had drifted toward me from the dead mouse in the hayloft. And I had a realization.

“As it turns out,” I told Quinn now, “I’ve been feeling these sort of sparks of life, but they’re more than just little blips on my radar. They’re containers for the death-essence. Or at least that’s how my brain interprets it.”

Quinn considered that for a long moment, then asked, “What happened to the essence when the mouse died?”

I shivered. “It drifted toward me. It was . . . attracted to me.”

“Wow,” Quinn said, impressed. “You really do have death in your blood.”

After that epiphany, if I really concentrated during my practices, I could actually feel the death-essence within each blue buzz of life. After all, the potential for death is in all living things. I didn’t say that to the undead vampire beside me, though.

“Can you do the same stuff that the other witches do?” Quinn said idly. “Protection spells and healing and whatnot?”

“No,” I admitted. Simon had tried to teach me a very simple charm to clean something. I’d seen him use it on an old grill behind the cabin, forcing the dust and grime off it in one small, potent burst of magic. Then he’d reached down and picked up a fistful of dry dirt, depositing it on top of the grill. I hadn’t been able to clean off a speck. “Apparently, if it doesn’t have to do with death, I can’t access it.”

“What about your niece?” he pressed. “Did you ever ask Simon about a connection between nulls and boundary witches?”

I eyed him suspiciously. “What is this, a quilting bee?” I retorted. “Do you really expect me to believe you tracked me down just to play catch-up?”

A long moment ticked by with Quinn’s face frozen on neutral. “Yes, I asked,” I muttered.

“What did he say?”

“He’s looking into it,” I said tiredly. This particular subject had been an ongoing source of disappointment for me. “Apparently there aren’t many witches who study the scientific or historical connections between different types of magic, or if there are, they don’t talk to each other. Simon’s been doing research, but he said it isn’t easy to find records of nulls, and the ones that he’s found show no particular connection to boundary witches.”

“What about the other way around?” Quinn asked. “Has he found boundary witches who have connections to nulls?”

I shook my head. “That’s even harder, apparently. Nobody’s wanted to admit to being a boundary witch since the Inquisition.” Not that I could really blame them.

“You could ask Maven,” Quinn pointed out. “She’s known a few nulls.”

I considered that for a moment, then shook my head. “Maybe after Simon exhausts all his options. Right now I’m still trying to get her and Itachi to see me as a useful employee. I’m not sure asking for favors is the right way to go about it.”

We sat there in silence for a few more minutes, staring at John’s house. “What exactly is your plan with this?” Quinn said eventually. “You’re hoping the bad guy makes a run at her during the three hours a day you happen to be watching?”

I thought of the dreams I’d been having. “It’s not that,” I told him stiffly. “It’s just that these are the only three hours of the day when I’ve been getting any peace.” He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, I added tartly, “See, some of us actually have a hard time letting a murderous kidnapper get away with it.”

Quinn didn’t meet my eyes, just stared straight ahead out the windshield. His jaw tensed and untensed, as if he was trying to decide whether or not to speak. Finally he sighed and reached into the breast pocket of his leather jacket. He pulled out a wad of paper and tossed it to me.

“What’s this?” I clicked on the car’s reading light and unfolded the bundle, scanning the top few lines. “Phone records?”

He nodded. “For Victor, Darcy, Kirby, and Nolan. Those weren’t easy to get, by the way. Vampires almost exclusively use prepaid cell phones.”

“You pressed some people,” I summarized. I looked down at the list of numbers, but nothing jumped out. “Is there anything here?”

“Not really. They all mostly called each other, like a closed loop. And Itachi and Magic Beans. Kirby contacted his fraternity brothers, of course. Darcy called a few clothing stores.”

I let my hands rest in my lap and stared at Quinn. “Do Maven and Itachi know you’re doing this?”

He shook his head. “And I could get in a lot of trouble if they found out. Technically, neither one ordered me not to pursue the case, but if they knew I was following up on my own, they’d probably be pissed.”

“Then why do it?” I asked.

He finally turned his head to stare at me, his cool eyes assessing mine. “Oh,” I said stupidly. “You did this for me.”

“Some of us have a hard time letting a murderous kidnapper get away with it,” he said, throwing my own words back at me.

At that moment John’s hybrid car finally pulled into the driveway, and with a breath of relief I watched as my brother-in-law stepped out of it, wearing his denim jacket, and opened the back door to pull out Charlie’s car seat. I caught a glimpse of the familiar tuft of dark hair as he swung the car seat around the door. John reached back into the car and pulled out something else, too, and I found myself leaning forward a little as I tried to make it out: a wide, thin package on a hanger.