Law abiding citizens typically trust police. Like them even. OK, maybe not traffic cops, but these are people with the training, authority and inclination to protect the general welfare. We’re taught from a young age to trust them, and some of us had extra reason for our trust. Sia’s father was a detective, and her oldest brother comprised half of a K-9 unit. The other half of the unit was equally likeable.

They were good people. Good cops. But they didn’t know what I was, could never understand what I did. While I trusted them, and even hoped they would show up, I could count on them to act as cops. Usually that would be a good thing. Tonight it could be disastrous. Ever-faithful, Sia knew that a cop would tramp right into the middle of my magical constructs. Thankfully she was thinking, because my mind was totally preoccupied with fear.

I never thought of myself as a girly girl. I’m a computer programmer, I have good visual-spatial skills, and I can parallel park. At some level I was quite embarrassed to find myself lying in a puddle of my own tears for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. When one of Éan’s beholden had broken my circle earlier I thought I was going to die. This time I only wished I could. In the distance somewhere behind my sobs I could hear Sia. She worried the edge of my consciousness like a dog with a bone, calling me back from the dark place the Draft had drawn me. Thankfully she had enough of her wits to remain outside the circle, otherwise I would have been in a truly dire condition. She was trying to tell me something, something about the police. If they found me like this…

I tried to release the protecting circle, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop Intending. Without a circle I would be naked, unable to defend myself, or Sia. Not like I could defend us curled up on the floor. Standing up was a challenge of will. I had stopped screaming, but tears streamed unbidden down my face. If standing had been difficult it was nothing next to thrusting out tendrils of Draft, probing blades that cut through the illusions of this world. The truth hurt and I was on my knees again, but this time upright. I risked a small smile of pride. I had what I needed, and the evil that took Éan was no longer here. I abandoned my circle.

"What happened?" Sia asked wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. "You’re shaking like a leaf."

"Féileacáin bán," I swore quietly. A deep breath helped but didn’t stop the tremors. "I know what took Éan."

"What took her? What could have done this? Trolls? Elven warriors?"

"No, nothing from Otherworld. They were human, at least biologically. Spiritually they abandoned their humanity long ago. Éan was taken by a coven of Midnight Clerics. Midnights are men and women who, having some magical acumen, choose to use their talents to create chaos and unrest. They believe that man can only evolve through conflict."

"Well, kidnapping a Witherwraith will certainly let them cause some conflict." Sia spat. "So they’re like you? Some sort of evil draoi?"

"Not exactly. I’ve studied magic. They are like high school dropouts: mean, bullying, and dangerous because they don’t really know what they are doing. They run in packs, and obviously can muster some power. Taking down Éan almost put me in a coma, but several of them working together were able to abduct her."

"Where’s the police?" Sia wondered aloud.

"It’s good they aren’t here yet. We need to decide what to tell them."

"The truth?" Sia offered.

"Of course, but how much truth? Sia, I have to protect normals against magical threats. That includes the police. If your father or your brother knew that we had a friend abducted tonight, what would they do?"

"They would try to track her down of course."

"They are great policemen. They would probably find her. But they aren’t equipped to combat a coven of Midnights. Besides, what are we going to tell them about Éan? What’s her last name? Next of kin? Phone number? Where does she live or work? How do we answer those questions without putting her at risk? There’s a world out there completely outside their experience."

"You trusted me with knowledge of that world."

"You are talented at Faith. Things I tell you keep you safe. Anything I told the police would simply put them at risk."

"So no mention of Éan then," Sia agreed grudgingly. "What do we say?"

"There was a break-in. Thankfully we weren’t home. We haven’t yet determined what objects might be missing."

"I can do that."

"Good, because they’re here."

A squad car, lights flashing but sans siren, had pulled into the drive followed closely by a non-descript Impala. Two officers disembarked, exuding confidence as they adjusted their heavy belts. Detective Went exited his car like a bullet and beat them to the door.

Max Went was a tall man, but his broad shoulders and thick build made him seem less so. He hunched a little, and appeared soft around his middle, but his looks and quiet manner belied a brilliant criminalist as strong as an ox. His gait was lumbering, but it moved his bulk with an efficient speed.

"Are you girls alright?" He asked, scooping Sia into a great bear hug.

"We’re fine Dad," she wheezed, "but I can’t breath."

"What happened?"

"I was up late working," I indicated the laptop, "I decided I needed some late night coffee and Sia went with me down to Java Mama’s. we found the place like this when we came back."

"Thank goodness you weren’t here. Anything missing?"

"We haven’t done a full inventory yet. We didn’t want to mess up the crime seen too much."

"Don’t worry about that. Your fingerprints are already all over the place. Besides, we’re not exactly the same as those crime labs you see on TV. Not really much we are supposed to do here, and unlikely they’ll call in the state unless someone gets hurt, or the burglars turn this into the first of a serial."

Sia and I both nodded, relieved on some level. Until he continued.

"But don’t worry, there are some tricks we detectives use to track down criminals, even without the fancy gadgets you see on CSI. I’ll get the guys who did this."

"Really Dad, that’s not necessary"

"That’s right Mr. Went, nothing here was valuable enough to risk tracking down these people. What Sia and I really need right now is a landlord willing to help us get that door back on its hinges."

"That shouldn’t be a problem," he nodded as he gracefully shifted from cop mode into father figure, "looks like we may need to patch up the frame. I’ve got some lumber that would do the trick, but the hinges are pretty twisted. Need to go to the hardware store for that. Too late for that now, you girls want to crash at my place until we get this fixed tomorrow?"

"Sounds great Dad, just let us grab a few things."

"Where’s Valentine?" I hissed under my breath as we packed a change of clothes, and I grabbed my gear bag. "He should have been here fifteen minutes ago."

"I’m sure he’s fine. Did you try his phone again?"

"He’s not answering."

"I’m sure it’s nothing. We’ll hear from him soon."

"I need him Sia. I toasted my wand yesterday, I haven’t had a chance to replace it, and I didn’t even get any raw materials at the market earlier. Éan’s been kidnaped by Midnight Clerics. I can track them if I act fast, but I can’t take them on by myself. Probably not with a wand, but definitely not without one. If I wait, I may not be able to track them at all, or worse, they might crack Éan. She’s wounded and tired. She needs to feed. If she gets too desperate she might trade them for some of her power, just like those kids up in Green Rock. If the Midnights are amped up on Witherwraith power…"

"You’re talking worst case scenario. It won’t be that bad."

"No. Worst case is if they kill Éan. That will kill Valentine as well, and if the Midnights are devious enough they can still get a power boost from the life-force run off when the pair dies. I need help."

"What are we going to do?"

"You are going to check on Valentine. I’m going to go dancing. I’m going to the damhsa sídhe."

Next Chapter: Chapter 7