Julie L. Kramer - Of Curses and Scandals

Of Curses and Scandals

Julie Kramer

Of Curses and Scandals copyright 2019 Julie Kramer

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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There were many, many perks to being a sorceress. I could heat up lukewarm food with a snap of my fingers, sketch out a quick tracking spell to find my favorite scarfthe one that somehow ended up under my bed and could heal a paper cut with barely a thought. Magic did have its drawbacks, though, just like anything else. Building a tracking spell for anything bigger than a housecat ever failed to make me mildly nauseous and, trying to locate a person using the same spell, was a sure sign that a long nap would soon follow. Like, within ten minutes, fifteen at the most. And not just a short nap, either, or a quick power nap to recharge my batteries. No, this kind of nap could be better compared to a bear in hibernation, where I was so deeply asleep that it would take physical pain or a massive disaster to wake me up. Also, working any kind of magic required absolute focus, which was difficult to obtain when the person sitting directly next to me would. Not. Stop. Talking.

Detective, I said quietly, trying to hide my growing irritation. Detective Cara Kane paused in the middle of her tirade and swiveled in her chair to look at me, one of her long legs crossed over the other. She cocked her head like an inquisitive pigeon.

Hmm?

Please stop talking. She arched one dark brow and did as Id asked, making a courteous go ahead motion in my general direction. I turned back to the map sprawled out in front of me, my hands placed flat on the dark lines of the citys grid. With quiet, it was much easier to concentrate. I closed my eyes and tugged gently on my magic, letting it slip through my fingers like a dog leash. It was centered somewhere around my heart, in my chest, tucked behind my ribcage . Or at least, that was what it felt like. Really, my magic was everywhere, spreading throughout my body, and rushing through the blood in my veins. It warmed my fingers as I sought the signature I had been told to look for. I heard Cara mutter Purple , so I knew the glow must have been spreading around my fingers. My magic filled the grid, snaking down alleys, and filling empty tunnels beneath the city. There was a taste of something familiar in an empty warehouse. I pushed harder and gasped as my magic reeled back to me. I cracked my eyes open, only to flinch as my vision filled with the Detectives face. Cara leaned back slowly.

You make me nervous when you do that, she grumbled, but there was a reluctant smile on her face. She pulled the map toward her on the polished surface of the table. One spot was glowing: a dark purple dot pulsing in the warehouse district. By the time I stood, albeit shakily, Cara was already passing the map to the uniformed officers standing at the door, waiting patiently for me to finish my work.

Can I go? I asked. I already knew what the answer was going to be, but I had to ask, on the very off chance that she would change her mind this time; it was a matter of principle. Not this time.

Cara sighed darkly. No. We go through this every time.

I reached for my sweatshirt, tugging the soft material over my head, rearranging the hood so that it didnt pull on my long ponytail. The hair was so thick that I had to use two hair ties to contain itit swayed between my shoulder blades like a black wolfs tail .

Yeah, well, I have to tell you to be quiet so I can concentrate every time , too, so I guess were even, I shot back. Over the hoodie went a black leather jacket. The shakes that accompanied using magic always made me feel like I was freezing to death from the inside out. Cara knew that very well; she handed me a thermos of hot chocolate, like she was rewarding a puppy for a well performed trick. I accepted it with a miffed thank you and guzzled a few swallows. The warmth burned the back of my tongue and throat, just shy of being painful.

What am I even here for, if I cant ever leave the station or go out in the field? A bloodhound can do the same thing that I can.

Not as fast or as well, and you know it. Besides , who needs a bloodhound when I have an enchantress? Cara picked up the manila file folder and closed it. Now that the uniformed officers had the location of their man, who was a suspect in the armed robbery of a nearby gas station, all we had to do was wait. I sat back down in my chair with a discontent grumble, nursing my hot chocolate, and settled down to wait.

Scandal, wake up. When I didnt move, Cara shook me more insistently. Now, Scandal, or youll miss it. Dont make me pinch you.

That got me up in a hurry. When Cara pinched someone, it left a mark. Not a little pink mark that faded in less than an hour, but distinct nail marks, surrounded by a dark bruise that ranged from the size of a dime, to a quarter, depending on the pinch. Unfortunately, I had a lot of experience with her pinches. I knew she loved me anyway, but she had a funny way of showing it. The room we were in was almost entirely made of glass. There was a great view of the front doors, so we had an excellent purview when the uniformed officers brought in the suspect, whom I recognized from the pictures in his file. His hands were cuffed behind his back, his shoulders hunched, and head lowered to stare at the tiles. Cara opened the glass door into the hallway, tugging me along by my sleeve.

And another one bites the dust, one of the officers said cheerfully.

Cara patted my arm proudly. And its all because of Scandal here.

The criminal glared, the cops congratulated me on a job well done, and that was the end of another day at the office.

Cara drove me back to my apartment and climbed all three sets of stairs to the front door. My still-shaky fingers couldnt fit the key into the lock, so Cara intervened and did it for me. I stumbled inside and dumped my bag on the floor, then flopped face first onto the couch. The door didnt close, which meant that Cara hadnt left yet. I rolled over reluctantly, squinting balefully out of one eye. She was watching me, her fingers twitching. If I didnt know better, I would have said that she was nervous, but it was more likely that our shared social awkwardness was kicking in, and she just didnt feel like sharing her feelings.

You did well today. Get some rest so you can do it again tomorrow. Do you need anything before I go?

I shook my head and then buried my face in the crook of my arm. I still needed another hour or so of sleep before I would be back to full strength. I couldnt get that amount of sleep, or any amount for that matter, while she was here. Her motherly obligations complete, I heard the door close behind her, and a click as she locked it with the spare key. I didnt feel like getting up to flip the deadbolt, so I buried my face in my arm once more, rolled onto my side, and eased myself into a magic-induced sleep.

I woke up two hours later, so I wasnt far off on the sleep requirement. I took off my jacket and switched my jeans for a pair of black pajama pants with pockets and blue and purple paw print designs. A text had come in while I was asleep : the owner of a local dog rescue, with a plea for help with a lost dog. That I was a sorceress was a loosely held secret, if that made any sense. Few knew about my magic, and I didnt go out of my way to increase that number, but those who did discussed it openly. I had helped with finding lost dogs and cats a few times in the past. I didnt mind. Most of the time, the animals on the posters were found long before news ever reached me. If it did, then the situation was dire.