The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) Brad Magnarella (ink book reader txt) 📖

as though to gather himself. “Penny remains in a coma, but her doctors say she’s stable. In fact, they’re telling me I should talk to her because she can probably hear what I’m saying. So I’ve been telling her a few things. First, that what happened to her is my fault.” He raised his hands to the murmured protests. “No, listen, listen. All you’ve been told was that she fell into a coma, but you don’t know how she ended up there. I think it’s time you heard.”

“Here it comes,” Arnaud said above his glass.

“What?” I asked nervously.

“The Big Reveal.”

“My wife was attacked,” Budge announced.

The blood fell from my face. He’s going to out me, I thought. He’s going to implicate me in his wife’s attempted murder. Probably Vega, too. And with all of the sympathy pouring toward Budge and his wife, the city will eat us alive. My eyes shot toward the door.

Arnaud’s cold fingers rested on my forearm. “A moment.”

On the television, Budge patted the air, assuring the press he would answer their burst of questions after he finished his announcement. “Yes, she was attacked,” he continued. “But here’s the thing. The entire City of New York is under attack. I’d heard the rumors and reports. But I ignored them. It took what happened to my dear wife to finally see the light. I’m talking about supernaturals. Beings that shouldn’t exist. But I’m telling you, they do exist, and they’re here. They’re in our city. And they threaten each and every one of us.”

Instead of quieting the reporters, Budge used their swelling voices to bolster his own voice, like a preacher at a tent revival. “Many of you have seen them. Some of you have been pursued by them. A few of you have lost loved ones to them. But not any more. Not in my city.”

In recent months, I’d observed an increasing number of ghouls scavenging the East Village garbage piles, a story even serious papers were starting to pick up. The monsters had graduated from the tabloids.

“Hey,” one of the barflies said, “you remember that thing that chased us down Avenue C a couple months ago?”

“Yeah, yeah,” his buddy replied. “Big and ugly with long arms. Think it was one of them supernaturals?”

The bartender shushed them.

“That’s the second thing I’m telling Penny while she’s fighting for her life,” Budge continued. “That the monster who attacked her isn’t going to get away. We’re going to hunt him down, along with every other supernatural that has infested our city, and we’re going to eradicate them.”

“Damned straight,” the third barfly said.

“So I stand before my city today to announce the creation of a one-hundred person force within the NYPD.” He turned and opened an arm toward a late middle-aged black man with a somber face and thick mustache. “Headed by Captain Lance Cole, the Hundred will lead the effort to root out and destroy the supernatural scourge on our city. The monsters are the true root of evil. Not taxes or the lack of city services or any of the peripheral issues my opponent would have you believe. Once the monsters are eradicated, once the streets and parks are safe, I promise you, the people and businesses that fled will come storming back, restoring our great city to glory.” He threw his arms out with this final pronouncement.

“So now you see,” Arnaud said as Budge began to take questions.

I swallowed and tried to find my voice. “Yeah, but he spoke of monsters, not wizards.”

“You know as well as I that he’s not going to distinguish between the two. Not after what befell his wife.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Be that as it may, the question now is how you plan to negotiate the new terrain.”

I looked down the bar to where the bartender had wandered over. He and the patrons were huddled in conversation. As I turned back to Arnaud, my head ached with the beginning of a migraine.

“I feel an offer coming,” I said.

“Or perhaps a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“Let me guess, a new pact between wizards and vamps.”

“Aligning to defend our rightful place in the city,” he said.

I shook my head. “I’m not getting mixed up with you again.”

“I don’t see that you have a choice, Mr. Croft—that is, unless you elect to flee. But I sense that would be difficult for one whose power derives from the unique energies of the city.”

He was correct to the extent that a wizard’s power adapted to the environment where he practiced, to the particular pattern of ley lines. One could relocate, sure, but it took time to shape the new energies fully to his purposes—especially for a relatively new practitioner like me.

“If you do remain,” Arnaud continued, “I am the only one with a fortification and sufficient personnel to defend it.”

“Then why do you need me?”

“Because in the fever of war, favors are called in, strange alliances take shape, the opposition swells. Just look at any of history’s great conflicts. We might soon find ourselves at a disadvantage.”

“And you think I can do, what?” I said. “Round up the local wizards and march them to the Financial District? Tell them, hey, we’re joining Team Vampire?”

Though I picked up magical auras around the city, I had no idea who did and who didn’t belong to the Order. My organization was highly compartmentalized, either to protect its secrecy or to decrease the chances of magic-users banding together to rebel. Both explanations made sense. I was sure I wasn’t the only one to have questioned the Order’s authority.

“It’s above my wizarding level,” I said.

“Very well,” Arnaud replied curtly. “I suppose it will take circumstances to convince you. Until then…” He finished his drink, dropped a twenty in front of me for the promised cab fare, and slipped off his stool. Before I could say anything, the door to the bar opened and closed in a flash of sunlight, and Arnaud was gone.

I moved my untouched drink around a small pool of condensation, the class I