Coven of Dolls

By Jeremy Varner

Summer afternoons in Seattle's Fangtown are generally peaceful. Longer days and more sunlight tends to make a nocturnal population stay inside, after all. So what Agent Nathaniel Leone expected was to get his usual order from Ahab's, catch up on the local news, hope that no one had encountered any hulking behemoths out in the woods, and ease into his "day". What he didn't expect was to have a gunshot shatter that peace right outside the shop in his very own neighborhood. Even more unexpected was what he found at the murder scene right outside.

With a crowd gathered around to gawk at the grisly scene, Nate discovers a shooter in an eerie trance. Snapping out of it, the shooter has no memory of what happened or anything else in the last day. Worse, she's not alone, dozens of cases like her have been appearing all across Seattle and beyond and have caught the attention of the Alter Control Task Force. Driven to murder with no apparent motive, people are killing friends, coworkers, and even complete strangers with no idea why and no memory of how they even got there. Someone is clearly pulling the strings, and the lines seem to lead back to a familiar face.

Something always stood out about Marionette Corvid, the right-hand woman to the owner of the most popular club in Fangtown. Something about her felt different and her readings were never quite right, but she was never a priority. Now, as the mysteries of the recent murders unfold, Nate finds Marionette was hiding a lot more than her aura. Now, with her secrets exposed, she leads Nate into a darker place and puts him at odds with those he trusted most.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeremy Varner
• Release date: Dec 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9780983623182

Jeremy Varner

A longtime fan of science fiction and fantasy, Jeremy Varner has been writing speculative fiction for most of his life in one form or another. First introduced to the genre through his father, a huge fan of sci-fi and fantasy from the days when that wasn’t very cool, some of his earliest memories formed around watching aliens, creatures of legend, and robots of all shapes and sizes. It wasn’t long before Jeremy wanted to create his own worlds and tell his own stories. From fan-fiction to original works that he dare not ever show the public, Jeremy’s childhood notebooks were littered with fantastic worlds inspired by the works of greats.It was during a particularly rough time that Jeremy realized that he didn’t want to just dream anymore. After years of treating it as his secret, geeky hobby, Jeremy eventually decided to take his work professional and bring his own quirky brand of world building to the real world he was often escaping. Shards of Glass, originally released in 2011, was his debut novel and the first book of the Agent of Argyre series – a series he hopes will someday inspire someone else to take the same journey.

Book preview

Prologue

Everything went dark after a flash of light and pain. Rough, thick skin rubbed my cheek raw as a heavy fist did its best to rearrange the bones in my face. My visor shattered into a dozen little pieces and scattered through the room as I spun on my heels. Wobbling, distorted masses of color danced around me as the darkness passed. When my vision cleared, I made eye contact with Marionette, the side of my face seized with pain.

Being punched by Commissioner Alston was like being hit with a brick.

The sympathy across Marionette’s face felt disingenuous. If she felt anything at all in that moment I would have been surprised. For all I knew she’d caused all of this and I was acting as a pawn in her little game. And right behind me was a rook ready to bring his stone-faced wrath down on top of me.

He was on me again before I could have a chance to recover. Powerful arms wrapped around me and started to squeeze for all they were worth. It was the worst hug I’d had in my life and soon I was helpless to do anything about it as he lifted me effortlessly off the floor. Kicking and struggling against his hold, I managed to plant a foot against a table and pushed at it to no avail, sliding it away from us as Alston’s footing didn’t change in the slightest. All the while, Marionette just watched on.

I couldn’t help thinking of the first time this happened.

Back then, there were a lot more blurred faces, partially hidden behind bright lights and a chain-link fence. It was almost impossible to focus on them, what with the man across from me pounding my face repeatedly with jabs I could hardly see. The speed of his punches and the weight behind them felt unreal. Dazed and confused, I regretted all of my life decisions for a solid five minutes as that man handed me my first real beating in a mixed martial arts match. There weren’t a lot of life decisions to regret at 20, but there were enough to fill those five minutes since I kept losing my place whenever he made contact again.

I couldn’t have been happier to hear the bell ring and end the round. My body practically moved on its own to get the hell away and shamble to the safety of my corner. Though, what was left of my coherent mind was trying to tell my feet to find the exit instead. The corner men guided me to my seat before that part of my brain could win the debate. Waiting for me, a warm voice welcomed me to that place, even if it wasn’t saying anything helpful.

Oh my god, the sweet voice strained over the noise, You look horrible!

I turned enough to see the small, delicate old woman trying her best to get close enough for me to hear her. She was wearing one of my team shirts and one of the jackets we made when I started to book semi-professional fights. Silver hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, a stray lock still falling over her cloudy aquamarine eyes as she tried to hold back tears over my condition.

I smiled weakly and tried to ignore the pain as the side of my face gradually swelled. Thanks Gram, I said sarcastically, trying to sound nonchalant, "that makes me feel way better."

I’m not trying to make you feel better, she snapped, jabbing a finger through a gap in the cage. This is why boys your age are usually in college instead of being punched in the face for a living!

Trying not to wince as my guys did their best to piece me together, I drank some water and looked at my grandmother, unsure how to respond to her. My opponent was dominating me and it was hard to argue with her logic at the time. My trainer buzzed in my ear, becoming background noise as he tried to tell me how to get hit less in the next round. I was drifting into a world of my own.

Then, floating through the crowd and hovering a couple rows behind my grandmother, another woman caught my eye. Brilliant green eyes caught my attention even as my vision blurred. It was the woman I would eventually know as Marionette.

Even then, that familiar feeling gripped me. In fact, back then I’d say it was stronger than when I met her again years later. She had that same concerned look on her face, that false face I realized I couldn’t trust now. And that feeling like I knew her, like I was supposed to know her, seemed to make everything else fade for what was apparently too long.

Leone! My trainer cried out in a harsh, gravelly voice, grabbing my chin and turning me to look him in the eye. Get your shit together, kid. You don’t got that long before this guy destroys you.

I took a deep breath and glanced past my trainer at my opponent, Aaron The Boulder O’Brien. He was untouched, pristine. His alabaster complexion and bright red hair looked almost ethereal against the sea faces around us. Feeling the ache of his assault settling into my bones, I knew how grim my situation was.

O’Brien’s an Alter, I muttered, I can feel it.

Without missing a beat, my trainer, in his gruff, sharp voice of experience, snapped at me, No shit, kid. Even the Irish aren’t that pale.

I shook my head and tried to ignore his tone. Maybe I was the last one to catch on but the rest of them didn't have to be punched in the face by the pale slab of meat across from us. I averted my eyes and gazed out over the crowd again, watching the mysterious woman that was drifting ever closer to the ring. My trainer's voice continued on, trying to tell me how I could manage to break stone with my fists as it tried to break me. But it was moot; I had given up and was doing my best to distract myself with the mystery girl locking eyes with me.

Gesturing with a nod out to the girl, I asked, Is it just me or is she familiar?

My grandmother glanced over her shoulder into the crowd, shook her head and gazed back at me, gripping at the cage and giving me the most steadfast tone I'd ever heard from her. Her voice reached through the haze and grabbed my attention as she scolded me, You don't have time to worry about her. You have more important things to worry about right now. That boy over there is going to hurt you if you don't stop him.

Pulled back into the moment by the power in her normally faint voice, I frowned and replied, I can't win against this guy, he doesn't have any weaknesses. He shouldn't even be in my weight class!

Calmly and with one of the most confident voices I've heard in my life, my grandmother said, Sweetheart, everyone has a soft spot somewhere. You just have to find it and abuse it until he begs you to stop.

Memories of that gentle voice followed me through the years, reaching me as I struggled in the arms of Omero Alston as he brought the full strength of a Golem down on me. Even if he was hard as a rock, there was a soft spot somewhere. Catching sight of our reflection out of the corner of my eye, I realized how near to his face I was and threw my head back into his nose as hard as I could.

A pained groan and a powerful crack escaped the both of us as our heads came together. But for as hard as he was, I knew it did him more harm than me. So, I did it again.

Repeatedly, I threw my head back against his, making louder cracks in his nose with every swing until the massive arms released me. In a moment of adrenaline, I managed to drop to my feet and not collapse to the floor, spinning to face him and throwing a fist into his face as hard as I could manage, dedicating my whole body to the motion and putting my weight behind that one strike.

His head turned, blood splattered from his nose, and the towering man began to teeter as I stumbled into him and nearly fell over myself. To my shock, as I collided with his chest, I felt no resistance as he fell away from me, collapsing to the floor with a heavy clap. Staring down at him, watching his massive chest rise and fall, I was both relieved to see he was okay and disappointed I couldn't join him on that floor.

Turning to her again, I met with Marionette's bloodshot eyes. I walked away from Alston as steadily as I could manage, churning the situation through my head and coming to a simple understanding:

Grams was right about everything.

Chapter 1

Perfect Trance

The beginning of a case is usually in some cold, dark corner. Normally you receive the call and go to find something has gone wrong in a place where few wish to tread. Every once in a while, though, you find the darkness seeping out of those corners into the rest of the world. Every once in a while, you find yourself standing at the scene in what was once a warm and safe place before.

On a warm Friday evening, I was where I usually was before the beginning of a shift, sitting in the comforting embrace of the Ahab's coffee shop, nursing a cup of coffee so black it could drive mere mortals insane. The usual Alter jazz played in the background and the news of the day scrolled by on a tablet I only recently purchased so I could stop browsing the news off of my phone or my neighbor's tablet. It was comfortable and familiar, a place to collect my thoughts.

It was a good place to relax and try to catch up with the world in a little peace and quiet. Idly swiping through news stories, I lazily watched for any strange sightings or incidents out in the woods. Part of me was always ready to see mention of a giant homunculus lurking in the mountains or prowling the streets. But the more time passed the more I started to consider that maybe that particular homunculus just wanted to be left alone. It was strangely comforting that the only mention of hulking creatures in the Pacific Northwest had to do with the local Sasquatch commune trying to open a co-op. It gave me that all clear to just settle in, sip my coffee, and try to forget I had to get to work soon.

And then a small voice pierced the room and startled everyone out of their stupor, crying out, Uncle Nate!

A short figure bounded through the shop doors and darted between the tables. Elven ears perked and bright eyes sparkled as Amelia practically lunged at me, smiling ear-to-ear with a sheet of paper gripped in both hands. Presenting a test to me with a great big A scrawled across it, Amelia cheerfully announced, I got an A! She has to take me with her to Argyre now, right?

I smiled and nodded. That’s how I remember it.

Amelia beamed and shot a look back at the door, waving the paper over her head back at the slender Elf entering the room. Dulaf Nénharma, Amelia's guardian, walked through with a small eye-roll and a grin. She was dressed more conservatively than usual, almost dressing her age, if that was even possible for her anymore. Given the outfit and Amelia's frantic waving of a test, I figured the two of them had to have come straight from Amelia's school.

The kid and I had formed some camaraderie. She’d seen some shit and was still rolling with the punches. Orphaned at a young age and dealing with trauma that would probably mean therapy for years to come, it was kind of amazing how cheerful she was. And, much as it surprised me, that seemed to have a lot to do with the other Elf in the room.

Okay, fine, Dulaf said with a hint of mischief, I'll be taking you to the science conference with me.

The little girl's ears folded back like a cat as her nose wrinkled. I don't want to go to the science conference, she muttered, glaring.

Yeah, I think it has more to do with visiting Peaches and something in the submerged sectors, I mused, sipping at my coffee and returning to my news feeds. What was it again, manatees?

Glancing over, I saw the little girl give me the same look of death she'd been giving Dulaf. I knew exactly why the kid wanted to go to Argyre. But it was still entertaining to watch the little spitfire react as we shined her on.

Mermaids! She cried out, slapping a hand onto the table in front of me to try to command some respect. I want to see the Mermaids!

Dulaf walked over and sat across from me, shaking her head as she commented, She insisted we come down here so you could be her witness.

Chuckling, I sat back and looked between the two of them. It'd been a while now since Dulaf had taken the little girl in, rescuing her from what we found to be the nest of a quarter-ton fruit bat now living as Peaches in Argyre’s special holding. The longer I saw them together the more natural it started to feel. The little girl was enough like her new mentor that it was sometimes easy to forget they weren’t blood relatives.

It was still surreal to see Dulaf responsible for someone else. Watching her torment Amelia with good-natured ribbing, it even seemed to echo some of Dulaf's attitude towards me. She didn’t quite take it as hard on the kid, not quite reaching the level of hazing, but it had that same energy behind it. Though, the implication she put me in the same category as an elementary schoolgirl was irritating in itself.

You did tell her you'd think about it, I said. You wouldn't want to go back on your word, would you? You also promised her you'd never leave her with someone else.

Dulaf shot me a dark look and said dryly, "I was planning on leaving her with you. Then again, I don't know if I want to expose the kid to whatever's in your fridge."

Hey, I cleaned that fridge, I said, doing my best to ignore her attempted jab, nodding and grinning at Amelia. Besides, if she was with me, we'd just order out a lot.

Amelia giggled and pulled a chair from another table to sit with us. Climbing up on it, she chimed in cheerfully, But the last time I looked in the fridge it was like Xander's lab experiments.

Leaning over and lowering my head to look the runt in the eye, I murmured to her, You know you're not supposed to cap on the guy that just backed you up.

Her cute little smile somehow managed to grow broader as she reached up and poked at my nose. I already got what I wanted, she said whimsically. But Xander's experiments are pretty sometimes, so it's okay!

Faking a sigh, being melodramatic for the child's sake, I sat back and accepted defeat. It was a little surreal to be sitting around and having such a laid-back conversation before a shift. Normally I’d be too stressed or sleep deprived to be able to fake a smile, let alone tease a kid. But it was getting to that time of year where my shift rolled back just enough for me to catch up on sleep and have two cups of coffee before I’d start. The coming summer months were bringing longer days, making the ACTF's busy shifts shorter with every passing day.

While that meant that people on the day shift like Dulaf were free to go to conferences in Argyre, guys like me were left to stare into space until sunset. When at least half of your jurisdiction is confined indoors while the sun is out, you start to have a lot of time to catch up on your reading in the summer months. Really, it was kind of nice being able to sit back, relax, and enjoy the company of my Elven tormentors.

None of us expected the crack of a gunshot blasting through the neighborhood like a thunderclap.

Everyone around us moved on instinct, bolting away from the doors and the windows. Trey, my friend behind the counter, yelled to the crowd to stay calm as I bolted to my feet and everyone else dropped to the floor. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dulaf's figure lunge over Amelia and pull her in as close as possible, taking the little girl beneath the table before I could circle to the exit.

My hand was already on the grip of the Helios pistol at my side, ready to draw in case the shooter was just outside. It didn’t seem far from the shop, echoing off the nearby buildings as people scattered in a panic. But as I reached the door, the front of the shop was clear. Wherever the shot came from, it was further down the street than the echo made it seem.

I looked down at Dulaf and nodded. Keep her down, I'm going to check it out.

She met my gaze and nodded back, holding Amelia as close as she could and shielding the child from the window behind her. Putting on my visor, I saw the flashes of colors around them as Dulaf's strength seemed to radiate into the little girl and calm her. I wasn't sure if it was training or if she'd just had a lot of experience ducking under tables over the years. But, whatever it was, I didn't have the luxury of ducking with them.

When I made my way outside it was easy to see just where the sound came from. People were practically stampeding away from the corner down the block. Normally, under daylight, the street is fairly easy to walk. There isn't a thick crowd at that time of day in Fangtown. But with all of them pushing at each other to get away from the gun, I was faced with a wall of people moving like a shockwave.

Pushing through, I found a break in the crowd and ran down the block as fast as I could. Expecting whoever pulled the trigger was going to be in a fight or flight state, I drew my gun and ensured it was in crowd control mode. But the scene I found wasn’t quite what I expected. Standing in morbid curiosity, a small group gathered around the scene of a man on the ground and a woman standing over him with a gun.

The shooter was seemingly a young woman, looking no older than her 20s and dressed like she'd just come from the office in a buttoned-up blouse and a grey skirt now stained red. She was lean, short and unassuming. A simple glance would have looked like she was anyone else in the world. It was only through the auras of my visor that I could see this girl was an Alter hiding in plain sight.

Her victim, an older man in a suit, sprawled across a pool of his own blood, face down as the shot had hit him in the back of the head. Normally when I saw someone like this, I would have had to scour the city to figure out who would have taken the shot. Firing into the back of someone's head was rarely the sort of thing you did impulsively. He didn't see it coming at all; he had no reason to be facing her as she pulled the trigger.

So why wasn't she running?

There were a lot of people around us, murmuring and whispering among themselves as they assessed the situation too. Gawkers had crept closer for every second she wasn't shooting up the rest of the neighborhood, likely as confused as I was in this eerie calm that shouldn't be happening. Unfortunately, none of them seemed to know anything of value as I edged past and heard them whispering questions and comparing notes.

I wished they weren't there. It was easy for the tension to break violently with this crowd of people surrounding us. Normally, I would just aim my weapon at her and try to take control of the situation. But I couldn't risk her opening fire at me and hitting one of the others around us. Luckily, she hadn't noticed the uniform hovering behind the group.

In fact, looking at her face, I wasn't sure she was aware of anyone. Her eyes were practically glazed over as she stared down at him. Her hand was as steady as I'd ever seen after a shooting. In fact, her aura was reading like nothing I'd ever seen at a crime scene before. They taught us what sociopaths would look like through the visor - in case we ever encountered someone the system couldn't read. I just never expected it to look like a 5'2" brunette straight from accounting.

She was so entranced by what she'd done that it was easy for me to circle around behind her. I gestured to the onlookers not to make any sudden noises and slipped between the people as quietly as I could. Raising the Helios, I inched in before leveling it to her back.

Put the gun down, kick it away and put your hands on top of your head, I commanded, startling her out of her trance.

Her aura shifted dramatically and a rush of color radiated up through her like a flame being lit. It was almost like watching her soul reignite as she recoiled at her situation. For a brief moment my finger tensed on the trigger, worried this was the start of one of those incidents where the gunman opened fire on everyone in sight. But when those colors stabilized and her shoulders relaxed again, I watched her head tilt down to the weapon in her hand and the body at her feet.

Her scream pierced the uneasy silence that had covered the block as she jumped away from the pool of blood and whipped her arm up towards the crowd. Her sudden movement scared everyone around us, scattering them like roaches as they did their best to dive into the nearest building they could find. When I was younger, I probably would have fired right then and there. But I could see what was happening as her finger released the trigger before she flung it into the air.

She wasn't trying to fire; she was throwing it away in a blind panic.

That was what washed across her body as the aura was growing stronger. She was terrified, utterly terrified and there was no mistaking it in the visor readings or in her posture. I grabbed for her and turned her to face me, holstering the gun as I realized this woman wasn't looking for a fight. Locking eyes with my visor, she stared in shock and trembled. The light splash of blood across her cheek was starting to streak as tears streamed down her face.

How did I get here? She asked timidly. What happened?

I couldn't figure out what to say to her. The scene was pretty clear to me and without the visor I would have thought she was faking it on the hopes of an insanity plea. But it was there, the readings confirmed her actions were legit and her actions were telling me that she had no clue what the hell was going on.

Finally, I gathered myself enough to reply, We're in Fangtown, just a couple blocks from the Forum. I hesitated for a moment, studying her expression and realizing she needed to know, I think you just shot someone.

She grew pale, her breath quickened. I watched the aura flutter on the display again, her vitals shifting rapidly. Before I could say anything or try to calm her down, her eyes rolled back and she collapsed. It was like someone flipped a switch in her brain and shut it all down. Catching her, I cushioned her head with my hand before it could bounce off the pavement.

The moments of silence following her scream were surreal. Kneeling on the pavement, I could feel the eyes of the entire neighborhood leveled on us and peering from every corner and shadow. They were watching for some sign that she'd rise again and begin to take her wrath out on the rest of us. But the fact was we weren't in that sort of situation. Unfortunately, that situation would have been easier to understand.

This was something different, something I'd never seen before. For as much time as I'd been on the force, I'd never seen someone lose their shit so completely and so randomly after committing a crime that appeared to have been premeditated. After all, who takes a gun to work?

Looking down the block, I saw Dulaf's head peek out of the Ahabs down the street and watched a smaller figure poke out behind her hip, their blade-like ears flicking together as they seemed to listen for something like a pair of curious cats watching from the brush. Tapping my badge, I opened a channel to the station and sent in the request.

This is Leone, home in on my beacon, I said loud enough for the two of them to hear, I just witnessed a shooting and the assailant has fainted, send an investigation team, medical crew and the coroner.

Dulaf's posture relaxed and she stepped out from the cafe's doorway, tugging along Amelia in her wake and keeping the little one behind her protectively as she nodded my way.

The response teams only took a couple minutes to arrive with us being so close to the headquarters. I had just enough time to section off the scene and place the woman in my car, handcuffing her and restraining her in the passenger seat. I didn't quite close the coffin around her like normal. Considering she just fainted, the reaction she may have had when she woke up probably wasn't going to be good for anyone.

The onlookers were hovering again by the time the team arrived, curiously drawn to the body lying in the middle of the crosswalk as they murmured once again, safe in the knowledge the shooter was locked away. Though my car was only just down the block, they didn't seem to have much interest in the woman herself. Even the gun, which had landed on the sidewalk and skidded up against a wall, was of little interest to any of them. The morbid curiosity was in the dead man on the pavement, who he was and how he ended up in this situation.

To be honest, I would have liked to know myself. Unfortunately, it wasn't exactly something I could have pulled from the aether and I was sure that I didn't have time to get it from his pockets.

Whoever he was, his death was far from a random act. Even if her trance was entirely genuine, she was carrying that gun and fired on that man for a reason. I couldn't read any signs of drugs on her once her trance broke, her pupils were normal and her biometrics were reading clean. Whatever had put her in that state wasn't directly chemical but it wasn't natural. There weren't a lot of explanations for something like that and none of them would have made this anything other than premeditated murder.

The investigation team hovered the scene and did what they could to catalogue it as quickly as possible. Outdoor crime scenes are horrible for trying to collect information, especially those that are in public or are exposed to the elements. But I couldn't bring myself to join them as they gathered evidence, I'd been there to see who was holding the gun and knew that the true mystery wasn't on the pavement, it was in her head. Watching the medics with the suspect, waiting for a sign she may stir again, I wondered how long I would have to wait to hear the truth from her.

That was definitely not the surprise I promised Amelia, Dulaf said, bemused, strolling up to join me by the car. You need to move to a better neighborhood.

I glanced her way, searching her voice for sarcasm before I replied, I live a couple blocks from headquarters, what neighborhood could possibly be safer than that?

Well, I think that's the fault of the local patrolman then, she said, jabbing at me with her elbow. Why didn't you have her locked down in the coffin?

I looked back at the woman strapped into my passenger seat and said solemnly, You didn't see her when I ran up, it was like she was almost completely blank.

Knife-like ears perked at what I said, Dulaf's eyes darting over to the woman in the passenger seat and quickly studying her. She was blank? Dulaf asked with an edge to her voice, Like she was in a trance?

I nodded, seeing a mixed look of surprise and concern crossing her face. I've heard of two other cases during the day shift like this in the last month, she murmured uneasily. They thought it was just strange coincidence, but...

Three times is a pattern, I interjected, frowning.

Dulaf nodded and looked back over her shoulder at Amelia sitting in another car parked by the Ahab's. Reaching out, she swatted my shoulder and said, I have to get her home, but get to the bottom of this, okay? That was too close for my tastes.

She walked back to the car and got in, flashing a strained smile at Amelia before starting the car and driving away. I watched them go down the street towards the headquarters and disappear around the corner. Despite her jabs, since Amelia and Dulaf lived in the sanctuary under the headquarters, this was their neighborhood too.

It was easy to get used to dealing with crimes in Seattle, even Fangtown as a whole. But for the first time the crime was right on our doorstep. Well, it was the first time if you didn't count when a monster literally kicked in my door. But this, this was the first time since I moved in that someone had broken the little shred of peace we had without aiming for me.

I felt a little violated by that idea.

Walking over to the car, I watched as the EMT packed up and stepped away from her.

Do we need to transport her to the hospital? I asked.

He shook his head. Her vitals are clean, no sign of injuries, we could take her for observation but the ACTF medical bay is more than equipped for her.

I nodded, closing the door and watching her through the window. Pulse her?

Yeah, one of us could do that, he said, patting a hand over his bag. I think she was just shocked.

Okay, thanks, I said, walking around to the driver’s side, I’ll do it at the headquarters if she doesn’t wake up by the time we get there.

We exchanged waves and I got into the car, thinking about that proximity again. I watched the crime scene investigators for a moment before starting the car and heading back for the headquarters myself. The drive was short, but I knew it was going to take me a bit longer than Dulaf to get inside. The shooter, who I still hadn't gotten the name for, was still out cold. But I couldn't just sit there watching them work through the scene right then, I needed to get her into the station and get her awake so I could try to get to the bottom of this.

The sun was setting as I approached the station, the scarlet-colored sky reflecting off the black, mirrored surface of the oddly shaped building. The increased traffic in and out of the garage below was a changing of the guard without any of the typical ceremony behind such a thing. The day shift was moving out as the night shift moved in. The thought crossed my mind as I entered the underground structure that the day shift's case files were going to be important to figuring out what just happened. The other cases like this were probably in broad daylight too. So, which one of these cars passing me by was going to be the Agent with some answers?

I parked closer to the elevator than usual and took a moment to take the woman's purse out of storage. Opening it, I decided it would probably be a good idea to get her identity before I tried to book her or check her into the medical bay. The purse wasn't anything out of the ordinary, practically invisible in the chaos as she waved a gun. The contents inside were what you'd expect from just about anyone that age: gum, receipts, cosmetics and a card for the bus. Finding her wallet, I opened that and finally got at least one part of the puzzle.

Her name was Kathryn Blake.

Her Alter Registration ID shed some light on what I was dealing with as the holographic photo cycled through various faces she'd had over the years. She was a registered Witch, clocking in at about three times the age she appeared to be and clearly having used her abilities frequently. After a while of living across from an elderly Witch that hadn't used her powers in years, I'd forgotten how easily my landlady could have reversed her age like the woman sitting next to me.

Putting her wallet away and closing her purse, I kept the ID on hand and slipped it into a pocket as I climbed out of the car. Going around to the passenger seat, I fished through a pouch on my belt and pulled a kit from it. I reached towards the side of her head and held a small device the width of a pen by her ear, pressing a button and setting off a tone to stir her awake. It was a little odd in some lines of work to be carrying around the modern equivalent of smelling salts, but in mine it was actually somewhat required.

She startled and jerked, nearly jumping from the seat before the restraints caught her. Her eyes were wild for a moment, darting about as a look of panic crossed her face again. Taking in the scene around us, realizing where she was, she calmed considerably but still looked at me with unease.

I’m sorry, Kate, I said, resting a hand on her shoulder, but I’m afraid you’re under arrest.

Chapter 2

Random Acts

As Kate was being processed, I went to one of the free desks to get a look at the other cases. Whatever had happened in the day shift wasn't just a random coincidence anymore. If what happened to Kate was any indication, I was almost sure someone or something was controlling her, pulling her strings like a puppet. The look in her eyes, the shock of what had happened, even the way her aura appeared were screaming of something other than her at the wheel. Maybe it was just a mental break, but I’d rarely seen someone snap back from one of those so quickly.

The other two didn't really have a whole lot in common with her, either. They weren't working or living in the same areas of the city. They weren't the same age, gender or race. Only one of them was an Alter, an Elf man who had been working as a door-to-door salesman and eventually shot the