The Day of First Sun (Annie Loves Cham Book 1) Page 10

  His animated eyes sparkled—Braxton Bourne was downright giddy while reporting on the murder of Princess Amelie. Annie found the stories mildly accurate; the reporters did their best to fill hours of air time with little to discuss since the Wizard Guard had only issued a one-page press release.

  The television switched from Braxton to another reporter in the field offering a human interest story about the suspect, Jordan Wellington.

  His preschool teacher. Really?

  Annie switched on her computer as she listened and scrolled through the various articles about Amelie, this time looking for stories on her relationship with Jordan, how long they dated, and places they visited. The lifestyle of the princess engrossed her. Her face contorted first in concentration and then confusion. Annie couldn’t find any pictures of the pair prior to their trip to America.

  Did they just meet? Annie wondered. As she scrolled further, the phone rang. Annie reached for it absently.

  “Hello?” she answered, still focused on the screen in front of her. Amelie’s parents didn’t approve of the boyfriend and told Amelie he couldn’t go with her on the trip, according to the first article. Huh? Jordan had met the family, it seemed. She clicked on a different link.

  “Big news, huh?” It was her sister, Samantha.

  “Yeah.” Annie continued reading. Sources claimed Jordan picked fights in bars and had been arrested for theft and drug possession, shut out of his trust fund, and estranged from his parents. What sources knew that?

  “Are you okay?” Samantha asked.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Annie!”

  Annie pulled her attention from the screen, mildly irked by the interruption. “What?”

  “You’re not paying attention to me. I’m asking about the case.”

  “It’s fine,” Annie mumbled. As Samantha continued to talk, she clicked on a different website, a chronological review of the princess’s visit in pictures. The screen loaded slowly.

  “We’re all set here when you need us in law. I’ve been reviewing legal procedures…”

  Party photos of Amelie and Jordan loaded, and a man Annie recognized appeared in one of them. Wolfgange Rathbone stared at the camera, his lips upturned—not in a smile though not exactly a smirk, either. Oh crap! Annie thought as she stared at the man who all in the wizard community believed killed her father, and yet there was never an indisputable proof.

  Ignoring that feeling of dread, she moved on to pictures of Amelie and wondered to herself, how did Amelie get an invitation to see Rathbone? Is Rathbone that connected in the nonmagical world, or was this connection through Jordan and his father? But Jordan’s father kicked him out… What the hell…

  “Annie!”

  “Well, what? I’m trying to do research and talk to you at the same time,” she said, exasperated. She put her computer on the floor.

  “Did you hear anything?”

  “You said something about the law.”

  “We were told to accommodate you on anything you need.”

  Annie smiled. Had Samantha been there to see it might have made her uneasy. She had just given her sister the keys to the magical kingdom.

  “Really? Memory modification, transmogrification, turning the murderer into a stone and throwing him into a rock quarry, even?”

  “You’re so weird.” Her older sister’s clear, lighthearted laugh made Annie laugh too. “I also wanted you to remember American laws. You know, searching and evidence collection, arrests.”

  “That’s what Jack’s for.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  Do I trust him? Jack, who cleared the crime scene, allowed them to tamper with evidence, and remove it for their own use? Jack, who gave them the case to solve? But Samantha was right—Annie didn’t know if she should. “He understands the consequences. I think. And I know all this. Why are you really calling?”

  Silence on the other end of the phone, though Annie knew Samantha was still there. “I’m worried. Very worried.” Samantha paused, her voice shaky. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. You worry too much.”

  Annie, always more adventurous, rolled her eyes at her sister’s more cautious nature. Samantha fussed with anxiety, but in reality, the sisters complemented each other just as much as they irritated one another. Samantha kept Annie grounded and Annie could get Samantha to let down her hair every once and awhile.

  “Yes, I promise I’ll be careful,” she finally said. Surfing the phenomenon of the tabloids, of the ridiculous stories they printed, the privacy they invaded, Annie gained a sense of Amelie. As much as the princess tried to be a responsible member of the royal family, her real purpose in America appeared to be a shopping and partying trip. What would my life be if I didn’t have to be responsible? Annie thought.

  “I’ll hold you to it,” Samantha responded. After mushy goodbyes, Annie finally ended the call and found herself once again lost in articles and information, printing and filing them away in an envelope. The more she searched, the more obsessive her quest to find out about the princess became.

  Annie couldn’t shake the fact that Amelie had gotten so close to so many powerful and dangerous wizards. She wondered if Amelie knew—and if she did, did she care.

  Chapter 9

  Sturtagaard barely escaped the Wizard Guards and may not have been so lucky had it not been for their inept fighting skills. Still, part of him was impressed by their ability to hide themselves from him so precisely and for so long.

  His latest commissioned task made it difficult for him to remain hidden, so the vampire snuck back into the black market and purchased additional potions.

  “Back for more, eh?” questioned the stallkeeper.

  “Yeah, sure.” Sturtagaard threw the money on the table and glanced around the market. It teemed with wizards. Sturtagaard snarled, showing his contempt for humans. Once the booth owner returned with the potions, he exchanged the vials for the money.

  “Your plan is a big hit,” the stall keeper said. “Lots of wizards looking to hide from the demons.”

  “How do people know?” Sturtagaard growled.

  The old man backed away. “I didn’t say. Another couple came in looking for those same potions. That’s all. They wanted to stay hidden, too.”

  “Short woman with dark hair? Tall man?”

  The booth owner looked at the vampire thoughtfully and decided that telling the truth was his best option. “Yeah, that’s them.”

  “Talk to anyone else, and I’ll come back and enjoy draining you dry.” The demon left and hid in one of his many locations, downing the vials of protection potion. Once Sturtagaard felt securely hidden from the wizard guard, he stepped out of the warehouse and followed the sullen boy, the one whose face was plastered all over the television as he was asked to do by his employer. As it turned out, this young wizard was sloppy and incapable of the simplest tasks, which helped the vampire keep a close eye on him. They spent most of the day walking aimlessly through the city.

  Long after dark, the boy came back to the hotel, sticking to the back alleys and side streets. Sturtagaard, expecting his return, waited behind a tree watching the boy as the crowd assembled outside. From his hiding spot, he watched as Jordan glanced upwards and disappeared to receive what Sturtagaard knew was an item of great importance, left behind when he escaped. The boy desperately needed it to save his life. Though Sturtagaard longed to steal that item and force the wizard to beg for his life, there wasn’t time for that. Instead, the vampire slunk away to wait patiently for Jordan to return to the warehouse. And the boy would—because he had no other place to go.

  *

  Jack sat back in his desk chair, reading the list, crossing out and adding items. As he reviewed his task list, two agents arrived in England, prepared to search the Wellington family properties for Jordan.

  The expense already high enough, so Jack also authorized a search of Jordan’s hometown and his known hangouts in Chicago. Jack regretted the waste of manpo
wer immediately, several times nearly calling off the hunt, but he needed to appear as though the FBI was doing everything necessary to find Amelie’s murderer. Why haven’t they found Jordan yet?

  His thoughts turned to Annie, who was far more pleasant to imagine than Jordan and his whereabouts. Jack contemplated the thoughts behind those chocolate brown eyes, imagined the taut figure, the warm smile—and Cham. What is his deal?

  After switching off his computer screen, Jack twirled in his chair and faced the bustling city below. Bright lights twinkled and burned his tired eyes. Impatient, he checked his cell phone again, scrolling through his missed calls.

  Why hasn’t she called?

  Without understanding magic and the procedures they followed, Jack felt useless and restless, fueling a need to remain close to work in the event of any news. The clock on his desk read 11:00 p.m. A lack of sleep and food left his brain a muddled mass of thoughts and unanswered questions. Pictures revolved and flashed through the evidence… the tampered evidence. He thought again of Annie and her team.

  The disjointed images were too much for Jack; he shut off his desk lamp and sat in the quiet, waiting for news.

  *

  Annie loved Wizard Hall before dawn—when low, dim lights cast spectacular shadows across the floor and the hall was silent with no office machines churning and humming, with no curses or spells flying and no creatures roaming free. It was perfect for early morning work without intrusions and interruptions.

  After grabbing several large maps from the library, Annie returned to the large, open space in the middle of the Wizard Guard department and laid out a world map. She stared ruefully at the paper covering the floor. They had given Jordan plenty of time to run, to find a secure place to hide where he would lower his guard, allowing them to find him. But the daunting task of finding a needle in a world-sized haystack loomed as she wrapped the silver chain of her scrying crystal around Jordan’s passport and held it over the first possible location, watching the crystal dangle and swirl.

  “Hey.”

  Annie jumped.

  “Sorry. Sleep at all yesterday?” Cham asked casually, sitting on the floor beside her.

  “Some.” The smell of bitter black coffee and a spicy breakfast sandwich wafted up to her; he must have brought it in from their favorite place down the street.

  “You lie. You’re biting your lower lip. How long have you been here?”

  “Just got here. Bring me anything in that bag of yours?”

  Cham opened it for her to see; she reached in and grabbed the second sandwich. Steam rose up and tickled her nose. “I’m not sure we’ll find him today,” he said

  “Did you see the news yesterday? All those stories about nothing. They talked to his preschool teacher.”

  Cham took a bite of his meal and watched Annie maneuver the crystal over another possible location. The silver chain twirled absently. While the crystal searched for Jordan, Annie took a bite of her sandwich. The spicy meat burned her tongue.

  “Sometimes I want to laugh. The nonmagicals really have no clue. Sometimes I wonder what it’s like to not know,” she said.

  “Yeah. What would you do if you were without magic?”

  Annie had only ever wanted to be like her dad—a Wizard Guard. Since she had never known anything other than magic, it never occurred to her to think about life without magic.

  “It’s kinda weird thinking about it. Ignorance is probably bliss.” She turned toward her best friend. Magic brought them together and bound them together. “I guess I’d still want to help people, so I’d probably be doing the same thing I’m doing now. Who knows, maybe I’d even be an FBI agent.”

  Cham tensed beside her.

  He doesn’t like Jack.

  “What if you weren’t magical?” she asked him.

  “I wanted to be a Wizard Guard because of you. If I didn’t know you, I guess I’d have ended up as a lumberjack or something.”

  Annie burst out laughing. “Ooh, all muscley and kinda sexy.” As the words flew from her mouth, her cheeks blushed a deep red. Breaking her gaze, she returned to the crystal, leaving a deafening silence between them. The crystal continued twisting above the map.

  Cham’s my best friend.

  “Which location are you checking first?” Cham broke the silence.

  “I figured Jordan would go home to get money and supplies, since he left everything at the hotel. It came up blank.” Annie took a bite of the spicy sausage sandwich, coughed, and reached for Cham’s coffee, drinking the rest. “You could’ve bought a second, you know.”

  “Or you could steal mine. So where next?”

  “Home seems most likely. A stop for supplies. He left everything in the hotel room. I’m wondering if he might be down here. There seems to be camping in this area.”

  But the article said his parents kicked him out. Maybe only one parent kicked him out; would his mother still help him?

  Annie hung the scrying necklace over the map, working the string until it swayed on its own. Lost in thought, she barely noticed as several strands of hair fell around her face. Cham reached over, tucking them behind her ear.

  “It keeps falling out of the clip.” Her unsure smile felt unfamiliar on her face as she glanced over at him. The crystal swayed faster above the map.

  “Yaga Baba’s playing at the Witch’s Brew this weekend. I thought everyone could get together,” Cham suggested.

  The scrying crystal twisted and turned under Annie’s guidance as it searched for Jordan’s magic. As she worked, the Witch’s Brew popped in her mind: an all wizard bar safely hidden in a nonmagical residential neighborhood. The establishment was owned by the famed magical explorer Douglass Rand, who had turned his home into a hangout for the local magical young adults.

  As an explorer, Douglass traveled throughout the magical world; pictures of famous locations like the lost library of Alexandria, the temple of Apollo at Delphi, and the Caves of the Dead lined his walls. His shelves were cluttered with ancient daggers, crystal skulls, and cursed diamonds, all kept safe in plastic containers protected by powerful spells. Annie longed to be safely tucked away in the bar at Witch’s Brew, sitting in the comfortable chairs—almost like home, but not quite.

  “It sounds fun,” she said to Cham. “I haven’t thought of going there in ages.”

  While she pondered life outside of work, the crystal abruptly stopped and hung limply from her fingers. “So, with the entire world looking for you, where would you hide?” Annie asked under her breath.

  “I’ll check outside city limits,” Cham offered.

  He worked outward from the center in circles, checking the perimeter of Chicago. The scrying crystal, still jagged and sharp, rubbed against the map. “Crap!” Cham said. He turned the rock upside down, imprinting the sharp edges in the palm of his hand.

  “Get a new crystal,” Annie suggested.

  Cham grumbled under his breath, making larger circles outside of Chicago and slowly working his way out.

  “If his magic is weak and not working well, we might not be able to find him. It also would mean he can’t get very far. I say he’s still in the city. How about I take the south part of the city and you take north? We’ll meet somewhere in between.”

  They readjusted their locations and moved the crystals in circles, examining the city in more depth. Finally, Cham’s crystal lit up.

  “Why now, Jordan Wellington? Getting tired, dude?” Cham asked.

  Annie switched maps, using a more specific map of that part of the city. Starting in the same location, Cham’s crystal picked up the magic; it glowed brightly over a warehouse district of Chicago.

  “That’s weird,” Cham said.

  “That’s where we looked for Sturtagaard…” Annie stopped. “It has to be a coincidence, right?”

  “How much do you believe in coincidence?”

  *

  Jordan glanced over his shoulder with a slight sound. His muscles tensed, his dry tongue stuck to the roo
f of his mouth, and his stomach lurched. Though the warehouse teemed with mice and rats and possibly a shape-shifting dunnie spirit feeding on the magical energy, Jordan worried more that the vampire who nested here would return or—worse—that Rathbone’s men would find him. The fugitive stared into the darkness before returning to his task.

  Alone, scared, and reduced to hiding in the dilapidated warehouse, Jordan believed he’d be better off caught by the FBI or Wizard Guard. At least in prison, Rathbone’s men couldn’t get him.

  While he packed, Jordan’s thoughts turned to Saturday night: the party in the bar, the romantic evening Amelie prepared that never took place. The candles. So many candles that he thought they’d burn down the bathroom. The thought for a moment made him smile, and then Jordan pictured Amelie. His hands shook.

  Long locks of hair fell across his face, but he ignored them and shoved a pair of pants inside his bag. Jordan could almost feel the chill of the champagne as he pulled it from the refrigerator, the anticipation of Amelie beneath him, the sounds of shuffling coming from the bedroom.

  Jordan ran, but Amelie lay across the bed already dead, her face frozen, her life gone.

  How do I fix this?

  Jordan barely escaped the ambush and the lopsided duel, teleporting away from the hotel suite with limp, weak magic. He spent the rest of the night walking until he finally found a quiet street and this abandoned warehouse, the only building with an unlocked door.

  Loose air ducts rattled above him. Jordan turned and stared into the darkness.

  I’m getting paranoid.

  The rattling stopped, leaving the silence to ring in his ears. Jordan shoved his fake passport and the last of his money into the false bottom of his shuffle bag. His fingers trembled, missed the opening and bills slid out of the pocket.

  “Damn it!” Jordan wrapped his fingers around the rest of his money and thrust them inside the pocket.

  His fingers grazed against one of four candy bars he managed to steal the night before, and he realized he hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours. His stomach rumbled between hunger and nausea. Taking the bar out, he took a bite; it tasted bitter in his mouth. He threw the rest in the bag.