Prologue
Hunting coffee, Sandra slid into one of the duct-taped booths near the front window of Dot’s Diner. Out of habit, she checked for the faint threads of power that usually hung in the air.
Nothing. There was a void in the city’s rhythm. That wasn’t too unusual. And it tracked. The headache pounding behind her eyes made more sense now. Drumming her fingers on the sticky laminate, she shrugged. These things happened.
Dawn backlit the City Market outside with a ruddy glow some might consider eerie, but tricks of light didn’t unnerve her. She’d seen too much for that.
Where was her coffee?
This diner was her Sunday sanctuary—a place to recover from the night before and steel herself for the week ahead. Jasmine, the diner’s petite powerhouse of a waitress, always had a steaming cup waiting the moment Sandra sat down.
But this morning, Jasmine stood near the back talking to a customer, brimming coffeepot in hand.
Someone beat her here? She could count on two fingers the number of times that’d happened, including the homeless man who’d camped overnight in the bathroom. These days, Sandra checked corners by reflex. She took a closer look at Jasmine’s customer.
He was off.
It wasn’t the mismatched clothing, five o’clock shadow or hollowed-out eyes. That was downtown typical. Leaning forward, Sandra sharpened her senses and took a deeper look.
Everything slowed. The world behind the man warped. Walls bent inward, light twisted at unnatural angles, as if reality tried to fold around him. The air shimmered.
Then, with a sound like tearing fabric, he was yanked backward into nothing.
Gone.
No flash of light. No portal. No spell residue. Just gone.
Jasmine’s knees buckled. Sandra watched as she grabbed the edge of the table, mouth open, eyes locked on the empty space. The coffeepot tilted in her grip.
Sandra crossed the distance in four strides and caught it before it hit the floor. She set it on the table, then she made sure Jasmine was okay. After that, she went to the front door, locked it and flipped the sign to Closed.
Only then did she open her second sight. Still no trace of a spell. No shimmering after-effects. Nothing.
Shit.
Sandra came back and crouched beside the shaken server.
“Take a breath,” she said, gently squeezing Jasmine’s shoulder.
“What the hell was that?” Jasmine whispered.
Shock. Maybe something worse. Either way, nothing useful yet. She’d get a full statement later.
Right now? Coffee.
Sandra stood and grabbed a mug from behind the counter. Magic or no magic, she wasn’t starting Sunday without coffee.
Behind her, Jasmine’s voice shook. “I don’t… I don’t believe it.”
Sandra slowly took a sip, phone already in hand. “Yeah, well,” she muttered over her mug, “looks like the universe believes enough for both of us.”
It took three rings.
“Nathan speaking.”
“Director,” she said. “We just got a case.”