didn’t even know the plot, were a popular form of entertainment. And despite my own perception that I’d been in real danger when fighting the gargoyles, I hadn’t been hurt at all—just scared.
I looked at Lopez, feeling a little embarrassed now. “I guess I really got played, huh?”
He smiled and smoothed a strand of hair away from my shoulder. “Well, it sounds like they put on a hell of a show.”
“It was so real, ” I murmured. Even now, I couldn’t shake off my shocked fear upon confronting those growling gargoyles, or my horrified panic upon seeing Darius’ severed hand.
After a moment, Lopez asked, “Can I take you home now?”
I nodded and turned toward the squad car as he took my elbow. But after a few steps, I halted, recalling Darius’ prone, helpless body and his dazed voice. I closed my eyes, struggled with myself briefly, then gave a sigh and let my shoulders sag.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t go. Not yet. I have to . . .”
“You want to look around for him?” Lopez guessed.
“Yes.” I said again, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” he said. “This was upsetting for you. If searching the area will make you feel better, then that’s what we’ll do.”
“Thanks.”
He gave my arm a gentle squeeze, then told the two cops that we were going to have a look around. They declined to assist us.
I started walking down the dark street, with Lopez at my side, looking in every stairwell, poking around every garbage can, and peering under several SUVs, as if I might find Darius’ large frame concealed there. Rather than merely watching me, my companion looked in stairwells and under SUVs, too.
Given the various strange problems that had beset our short-lived relationship, Lopez was so often exasperated with me that I sometimes forget that patience was actually one of his virtues. He was obviously convinced there was nothing here to find, but nonetheless willing to poke around the dark street as long as it would take for me to feel more comfortable with the bizarre images that the night’s events had inflicted on me.
And considering how rattled I still was, I appreciated his calming presence.
Lopez and I had first met when he was a precinct detective handling a missing persons case; Golly Gee, a surgically-enhanced, D-list pop star had vanished in the middle of an off-Broadway musical that I was in.
During those events, I had also met Dr. Maximillian Zadok for the first time. Max was Manhattan’s resident mage and local representative of the Magnum Collegium—a secret, worldwide organization dedicated to fighting Evil. (Yes, Evil.)
The circumstances of Golly Gee’s disappearance were deeply weird—and the ultimate explanation for her disappearance even weirder. Eventually, Max saved half a dozen lives—including mine—by defeating the demented sorcerer who was causing a series of supernatural disappearances throughout New York City.
As one might suppose, those events drastically altered my previously mundane worldview.
Lopez, however, thought Max’s theories about the case were crazy. He also thought that I was crazy—or at least alarmingly gullible—for believing those theories.
A lot had happened since then (such as Max and I subsequently getting involved in a series of supernatural mob slayings in Little Italy shortly after Lopez was transferred to the Organized Crime Control Bureau), but one thing remained constant: Lopez thought that Max was dangerous—especially to me —and that I might be insane.
This had put quite a damper on our abortive attempt to have a relationship.
Meanwhile, when I say that Max “defeated” the sorcerer who had tried to make me, Golly Gee, and a number of other performers vanish in a permanent and fatal way, I mean that Max killed him. And I helped.
This was something that I was perpetually anxious to keep secret from Lopez.
In fact, what Max had done to Hieronymus, the demented sorcerer (and, incidentally, Max’s
I looked at Lopez, feeling a little embarrassed now. “I guess I really got played, huh?”
He smiled and smoothed a strand of hair away from my shoulder. “Well, it sounds like they put on a hell of a show.”
“It was so real, ” I murmured. Even now, I couldn’t shake off my shocked fear upon confronting those growling gargoyles, or my horrified panic upon seeing Darius’ severed hand.
After a moment, Lopez asked, “Can I take you home now?”
I nodded and turned toward the squad car as he took my elbow. But after a few steps, I halted, recalling Darius’ prone, helpless body and his dazed voice. I closed my eyes, struggled with myself briefly, then gave a sigh and let my shoulders sag.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t go. Not yet. I have to . . .”
“You want to look around for him?” Lopez guessed.
“Yes.” I said again, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” he said. “This was upsetting for you. If searching the area will make you feel better, then that’s what we’ll do.”
“Thanks.”
He gave my arm a gentle squeeze, then told the two cops that we were going to have a look around. They declined to assist us.
I started walking down the dark street, with Lopez at my side, looking in every stairwell, poking around every garbage can, and peering under several SUVs, as if I might find Darius’ large frame concealed there. Rather than merely watching me, my companion looked in stairwells and under SUVs, too.
Given the various strange problems that had beset our short-lived relationship, Lopez was so often exasperated with me that I sometimes forget that patience was actually one of his virtues. He was obviously convinced there was nothing here to find, but nonetheless willing to poke around the dark street as long as it would take for me to feel more comfortable with the bizarre images that the night’s events had inflicted on me.
And considering how rattled I still was, I appreciated his calming presence.
Lopez and I had first met when he was a precinct detective handling a missing persons case; Golly Gee, a surgically-enhanced, D-list pop star had vanished in the middle of an off-Broadway musical that I was in.
During those events, I had also met Dr. Maximillian Zadok for the first time. Max was Manhattan’s resident mage and local representative of the Magnum Collegium—a secret, worldwide organization dedicated to fighting Evil. (Yes, Evil.)
The circumstances of Golly Gee’s disappearance were deeply weird—and the ultimate explanation for her disappearance even weirder. Eventually, Max saved half a dozen lives—including mine—by defeating the demented sorcerer who was causing a series of supernatural disappearances throughout New York City.
As one might suppose, those events drastically altered my previously mundane worldview.
Lopez, however, thought Max’s theories about the case were crazy. He also thought that I was crazy—or at least alarmingly gullible—for believing those theories.
A lot had happened since then (such as Max and I subsequently getting involved in a series of supernatural mob slayings in Little Italy shortly after Lopez was transferred to the Organized Crime Control Bureau), but one thing remained constant: Lopez thought that Max was dangerous—especially to me —and that I might be insane.
This had put quite a damper on our abortive attempt to have a relationship.
Meanwhile, when I say that Max “defeated” the sorcerer who had tried to make me, Golly Gee, and a number of other performers vanish in a permanent and fatal way, I mean that Max killed him. And I helped.
This was something that I was perpetually anxious to keep secret from Lopez.
In fact, what Max had done to Hieronymus, the demented sorcerer (and, incidentally, Max’s
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