Harley Merlin and the Secret Coven Read online

  “Like I said, there was an incident eight nights ago, on 55th Street, just past the casino parking lot,” Wade explained. “There were no police involved, just two of our agents. Unfortunately, I cannot disclose more information at this time, but we require access to your CCTV cameras, particularly the ones covering the parking lot.”

  Malcolm was happy to oblige, and escorted us to the security room, where a multitude of TV screens were mounted on a wall. Most of them were focused on the interior parts of the casino, but there were twelve cameras installed outside, with three in the parking lot. I knew each very well, remembering their coverage areas and blind spots.

  We watched the footage from that fateful night, and I saw myself at the poker table… the dealer incident, where the image got slightly blurry, as if the cameras were suddenly out of focus. Wade frowned as he saw the entire scene, then gave me a concerned look. I responded with a shrug, then pointed at the screens covering the parking lot.

  “There I am,” I said.

  “What were you doing on the other side of the parking lot?” Malcolm asked, squinting as he looked at the footage. I was just a black stick from that angle, but we could still see my car shake a little from the gargoyle impact. Wade and I could see the creature, but, judging by Malcolm’s expression, he couldn’t.

  That’s interesting. I get to see these monsters on camera, too, but the humans are spared the nightmare.

  “I heard noises, but I didn’t see anything,” I replied, then looked at Wade with an innocent look on my face. “Was this when the incident happened?”

  “Yes.”

  Wade wasn’t a man of many words at that point, his gaze fixed on the screens.

  “I didn’t even see the footage until now,” Malcolm said. “Had the police been involved, I would’ve had to pull it up sooner. This is strange. Why’s your car moving like that, Harley?”

  “I… I have no idea,” I replied, unsure how to gloss past that particular anomaly. He couldn’t see the monster sliding into my car to produce that nudge.

  “Probably a gust of wind,” Wade said. “So, you’re saying no other Homeland Security agent came in to check the footage the night after the incident?”

  Malcolm shrugged. “No one. I had no idea something had even happened so close to our establishment.”

  Wade straightened his back, and I could sense he was upset. From what I’d learned so far about him and the coven, the protocols did involve scrubbing any CCTV footage related to a monster incident. And yet, there we were, a loose end of the gargoyle affair slapping our faces. Ugh, someone’s going to get reprimanded for this.

  “Harley, can you please go outside for a minute?” Wade asked. “I need a word in private with Malcolm.”

  I nodded, then gave Malcolm a warm smile and left, closing the door behind me.

  Two minutes later, Wade emerged from the room, his rings still glowing blue as he adjusted his tie. “I’ve wiped the CCTV footage for the entire night, just to be sure no one catches on to your little card tricks, either. I’ve also adjusted Malcolm’s memory regarding the footage. As far as he knows, the cameras glitched that night, and all the footage was lost.”

  “You tampered with Malcolm’s memory?”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. The technique itself was manipulative and invasive. But in the end, it was in Malcolm’s best interest if he didn’t remember anything. Something else bothered me, though—it wasn’t my issue, but Wade’s. “The magicals in charge of the first round of cleanup did a very poor, sloppy job. That camera footage should’ve been scrubbed the morning after,” Wade said, glaring ahead as I followed him out of the casino. “The fact that no one checked the casino left us with a dangerous opening.”

  “Do you know who was in charge of cleanup?” I asked.

  We reached El Cajon Boulevard, and Wade looked both ways before crossing the street, his gaze fixed on the shops facing the casino. The wide building held a number of businesses, including a Vietnamese grocery store and a printing shop.

  “Poe Dexter and a couple of other magicals from his clique. I knew he was a Mediocre, but this borders on incompetence,” Wade replied, gritting his teeth. “This means we have to go around this side of the block, too, and ask around, in case that imbecile didn’t think to check the neighboring area at all.”

  “Shouldn’t there be a report?” I offered with a shrug.

  He stared at me for a couple of seconds, before a smile stretched his lips. “You’re not that useless after all.”

  “Wow, you sure know how to make a girl like you,” I said, crossing my arms.

  He checked his phone, then quickly typed a text message. “Astrid has access to the reports. I’ll have her send it over. Now, let’s go in. There’s more to check out in the meantime.”

  Wade walked into the Vietnamese store first, stopping by the main counter. “Hi, Homeland Security,” he said, flashing his badge again. “I need to see your CCTV footage.”

  The store clerk, a middle-aged Vietnamese lady who was half his size, looked up at him. I could feel she was afraid—either wary of government employees or simply wary of strangers in suits with badges. Whatever it was, it worked as a defense mechanism, as she started speaking in Vietnamese.

  Wade was confused. Obviously, does not compute.

  I picked a random magazine from a rack and walked up to the counter next to him, with a warm smile on my face. “Hi, can I get this, and two packs of gum, please?”

  She nodded, her brow furrowed, as she scanned my stuff and pressed various keys on her electronic cash register.

  “Ma’am, I need to check your CCTV footage,” Wade said again, slightly irritated. The woman deliberately ignored him, flashing me a crooked smile.

  “Do you want mint or fruity gum?” she asked. Wade’s patience was wearing thin, fast.

  “Mint, please,” I replied softly. “Do you remember me?”

  She looked at me, narrowing her brown eyes as she sifted through her memory, then offered a brief nod. “You work at casino, don’t you? Pretty girl, always in black dress, right?”

  I chuckled, pleased to have made an impression on her. As much as I enjoyed my anonymity, it served no purpose in this case. “Yes, ma’am, that’s me. Listen, I wanted to ask you for a favor.”

  “Anything for you, sweetie. Eight dollars and twenty cents, please,” she replied, drawing my total. The one thing that made it out of the apartment with me, besides my father’s note, was my wallet, which I’d stuffed into the inside chest pocket of my leather jacket. I handed her my credit card, which she swiped through the card reader. “What do you want, pretty girl?”

  “Well, first of all, I need you to ignore this stooge here,” I said, nodding in Wade’s direction. “He doesn’t have any people skills. The only thing he’s good at is flashing that stupid badge around. But I do need to check your CCTV if possible. Someone stole my car eight nights ago, and I need to see if your cameras caught anything. It’s really important. My insurance company is busting my ass.”

  The woman listened quietly, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes whenever she glanced at Wade, who was fuming by my side, but kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t getting anywhere with her, anyway. It didn’t hurt to try a classic con, instead. Besides, I knew this area well. Most of the people here didn’t take kindly to badges and uniforms. Even casino security made them jittery.

  “If I show you, will he go away?” she replied, her gaze fixed on Wade.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Is he really Homeland Security, though? He’s too young!” She frowned at him.

  “What, him?” I laughed wholeheartedly. “No, no, he’s in drama school, first year in acting. Badge is a fake. He’s just trying to help, but like I said, zero social skills.”

  I purposely avoided looking at him during the exchange, but I could feel my blood boiling on his behalf. The woman chuckled, then motioned for us to follow her behind the counter. “He’s a lousy actor, then,” she quipped, and guid
ed us through a small side door, leading into her back office, which was cluttered with cardboard boxes and accounting folders.

  CCTV footage didn’t show too much to the human eye, but both Wade and I could clearly see ourselves—two small black sticks in the distance, wrestling the gargoyle. Wade worked his magic on the Vietnamese lady, wiping her memory and the DVR’s hard drive, and leaving her with a similar story about a CCTV system glitch.

  “We were never here,” he said to her, and she offered an absent nod in response, a faint yellow glimmer in her eyes as she watched us leave.

  I ran back to the counter and took the chewing gum packets.

  “You forgot your magazine,” Wade said as soon as we reached the boulevard again.

  “I only needed it as an excuse to get to the counter and stop that disaster you’d probably call an ‘undercover sting,’” I replied. “You are absolutely terrible at dealing with these people.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, slightly offended. I kind of felt sorry for him. He was a typical elitist drone who followed rules and didn’t seem to understand that people in these parts of San Diego were… different.

  “Waving a badge around won’t get you anywhere in El Cerrito, my friend.” I smirked. “Nobody likes a cop asking for camera footage, not with the gangs working in the area. You know what happens to snitches.”

  “You seem to have a very good understanding of gangsters and interlopers, I see,” Wade replied.

  I gave him a brief shrug. “I’ve worked in that place for long enough. I’ve met all kinds of people in there. I know this area like the back of my hand, and I’m telling you, next time you want to do a cleanup mission like this, ditch the suits and badges. Simple lies work better. Hell, breaking and entering works better!”

  We moved farther down the boulevard, repeating the pattern—checking CCTV, asking people if they remembered anything from that night. Some had had their memories wiped by the previous investigators, based on Wade’s assessment, but plenty had slipped through the cracks.

  Two hours later, we were back on El Cajon, the casino just eighty yards away to our left. Wade was thoroughly displeased with the amount of memory wiping he’d had to do. “Poe barely did anything,” he grumbled, then checked his phone. “And based on what I’m reading from Santana’s and Tatyana’s texts, the rest of the block is just as bad.”

  “Did Astrid send over Poe’s report?”

  “Yes, I’m looking through it now,” he replied, swiping through the pages on his phone and shaking his head with disgust. “It’s full of vague notes and several lies. I know for a fact he didn’t check certain places he says he did.”

  “You should definitely tell Alton about this,” I said, gazing around.

  Astrid came into view, as she turned the corner and walked toward us from the north side of the block.

  “You bet I’ll tell Alton about this,” Wade muttered.

  “Guys, this whole block was a mess!” Astrid exclaimed as she reached us, holding up a computer tablet. From what I could see on the screen, she was operating some kind of CCTV software with several windows open. “I had to tap into the main network and do manual overrides to wipe out multiple recordings. What the heck did the cleanup team do here last week?”

  “Apparently, nothing,” Wade said, putting his phone away.

  “What’s that?” I asked, looking at her tablet.

  “This is Smartie!” Astrid beamed at me, holding the device up and pointing at various parts of the screen. “It’s a proprietary software I put together. State-of-the-art AI, to be specific. Named him Smartie because he’s brilliant.”

  “Him? It’s a he?” I chuckled.

  “Absolutely. My soulmate.” Astrid giggled, then flipped over several screens. I could see footage from all over the neighborhood through a live feed, and I was officially impressed. “Smartie taps into any system, basically. I’ve fitted him with several encryption and decryption algorithms, to the point where all I need to do is tell him where to go and what to do, and he does it. Flawlessly, I might add!”

  “That’s pretty cool,” I said, unable to take my eyes off the screen. Even the software design looked good, warm white graphics against a charcoal background—elegant and discreet. She tapped a couple of controls, then pulled out a list of cameras in a separate file.

  “These are the systems I’ve cleared, all the way up to the Golden Stiletto Bar, on a half-mile radius,” she said. “Where are the others?”

  “They’re on their way back,” Wade replied. “We should get back to the casino, too. We’re done with this side.”

  My blood chilled as I looked up and noticed movement on top of the Catholic church across the street from us. We were five minutes away from the casino—two minutes if we ran. That’s how long it was going to take the rest of our team to reach us.

  I tapped Wade’s shoulder and pointed at the church roof, where several black figures slithered across the red tiles. Their bat wings and long, spiky tails confirmed what I already knew, deep in the pit of my stomach. “Gargoyles,” I whispered.

  Wade stilled, then followed my gaze. Astrid couldn’t see them, given her human nature, but she was quick to tap a few icons on her Smartie tablet. “I may not have eyes for these suckers, but Smartie can read energy levels in the atmosphere. Monsters have exceptionally high body temperatures. They stand out like bright red spots once I get Smartie to look for them, and… there they are. I see them. Oh, crap.”

  “Ten of them,” Wade finished her sentence, examining the rooftop. “Astrid, call the team back. We need to catch these suckers before they wreak havoc.”

  Astrid nodded and quickly texted the others, shaking her head in confusion. “I don’t get it, though. What are they doing out in the middle of the day? It’s completely unprecedented.”

  “It is?” I asked, gathering enough sense and strength to make myself ready and available to intervene if needed. I had a bone to pick with these ugly bastards, anyway.

  “Gargoyles only hunt at night, and never on a full moon,” Wade explained. “They thoroughly dislike daylight. Let’s move in closer; we need a better angle. Astrid, stay back and keep the line open. Put your earpiece on.”

  Astrid took out a small Bluetooth device from her pocket, activated it, and put it in her ear. Wade handed me one, out of the two he had with him. “Put this on and press the main button. It’ll take you directly into our communications channel. Each team has a different frequency. Yours is already tuned in."

  I pressed the button as instructed, and the rest of the Rag Team’s voices came through, crystal clear. “We’re one minute away!” Santana said, breathing heavily as she ran.

  Turning my head toward the casino, I could see her and Raffe darting across the pavement. Soon enough, they were joined by Tatyana and Dylan, who came in from a side street.

  We moved closer, getting a clearer view of the gargoyles. They were all perched on the edge of the roof, but they didn’t seem like they were going to attack anyone—and there were plenty of people out in the middle of the day. My heart shrank to the size of a pea as I watched mothers pushing baby strollers and churchgoers emerging from the building.

  “Why aren’t the gargoyles moving?” I asked.

  “I wish I knew,” Wade replied. “I’m more worried about why they’re all looking at you, Harley.”

  “Huh?” I managed, then realized he was right. All ten gruesomely fierce gargoyles had their big, black, beady eyes focused on me. My blood curdled, but my anger was stronger. One of their pals had destroyed my car, after all.

  The others reached us, just in time to watch the gargoyles stretching their necks and baring their fangs, thick drool pouring out of their gaping mouths. The spikes on the backs of their heads rattled—a trait I hadn’t seen on the other gargoyles I’d dealt with. The sound sent shivers down my spine.

  Tatyana cursed under her breath in Russian, from what I could tell, and rolled up her smart jacket sleeves. “I’ll go set a groun
d-floor net trap,” she said. “You guys keep them on the roof.”

  Without waiting for a reply, she rushed into the building, disappearing in the emerging crowd of people leaving the religious service.

  “Dylan, Raffe, take the other side, behind the parish school,” Wade commanded. “Santana, you’ve got El Cerrito Drive. I’ll put out the ball. Astrid, make some noise somewhere farther down the road. Make it loud enough to get everybody off this block.”

  “Got it,” I heard Astrid through the earpiece. “Would a fire alarm do?”

  “It had better get people running as far away from the boulevard as possible,” Wade replied.

  “Air-raid siren it is, then!” she said.

  “Wait, no—”

  Wade didn’t get to finish, as a fire siren started blaring out of several stores farther down the road. The noise was loud and stringent enough to draw people’s attention. Like moths drawn to a flame, several people walked toward the source of the alarm, while most hurried down the boulevard in the opposite direction.

  “I was kidding!” I heard Astrid chuckle through my earpiece. “Air-raid sirens would’ve brought fighter jets scrambling around on full after-burner. Imagine the joy of the gargoyles to have something with wings to hunt.”

  “Thanks, Astrid,” Wade replied flatly, then moved toward the church with his hands out. His rings lit up blue as he pushed out a much bigger time-lapse bubble. The energy ball spread out, gradually encompassing the entire area around the church.

  Santana started waving at the rest of the people left in the affected area, motioning for them to leave. I figured I could start making myself useful, so I used my Telekinesis to send out a couple of nudges, and push humans farther away and out of the time lapse. They couldn’t see it, but it did slow time on the inside. We just couldn’t afford any weirdness, not when fire alarms were blaring and people were beginning to panic.

  The gargoyles looked up and around, confused by the loud noises and our movements.