Veiled Magic by Deborah Blake Page B

rose out of his chair again and headed for the door. “I wouldn’t expect much of anything to come from it, though. Most of these things turn out to be dead ends.”
    â€œBut, Chief—”
    He looked back over his shoulder. “Let it go, Santori. You did good. Better than I expected, to be honest. I’ll probably be putting you out into the field again soon, see if we can find some ways you can be useful that don’t involve sitting in this hellhole.” He grimaced as he glanced around the room one more time. “If the other cops eventually get used to having you around, maybe we can find you an office upstairs. Something with windows, even.”
    He gave her a stern look. “In the meantime, just be patient, do your job, and stay out of trouble.” With that parting remark, he walked out and shoved the door closed behind him.
    Donata sank slowly back into her chair.
    The Chief had just given her great news: at last she was going to get a chance to really do her job, become a real cop . . . maybe even eventually be accepted by the other cops she worked with. If she did well enough, she might even
finally
get out of this damned basement. All she had to do was keep out of trouble.
    So why did she have the sinking feeling that there was no way on earth she was going to manage to do both?
    *  *  *
    It was next to impossible to juggle two pizzas, a purse, and a briefcase full of case notes and open the front door at the same time. Especially when the door in question was old, slightly warped, and had a cranky lock.
    Donata tried it anyway and nearly dropped one of the pizzas. Then the doorknob slid out from under her hand and she almost fell into the living room. Small fingers lifted up to steady her and grab the pizza boxes.
What the heck?
    â€œAbout time you got home,” Ricky the Kobold said cheekily. “A fellow could starve to death in this apartment.”
    He plopped the boxes down on the scratched wooden table that sat in front of the couch and went to hang up her black leather jacket in the closet. Donata just stared at him in amazement.
    â€œDid you know that the only things in your refrigerator are a jar of mayonnaise and a few slices of old cheese?” he continued, ignoring her gaping mouth. “Oh, and you’ll need to get more cheese.”
    Donata finally found her tongue, if not her wits. “What are you still doing here?” she asked the Kobold. “I thought you were going to leave when Farmingham moved on.” Wasn’t her life complicated enough? Now she had a Kobold too?
    He shook his head and lifted the cover of one of the boxes to peer in at the pizza. “Nah. I decided you needed my help. One Witch against the Council
and
the Cabal? Hardly seems fair. So I figured I’d stick around and give you a hand. You know, help fulfill the old guy’s last wish, and all that.” He made a face. “What is this, white pizza with broccoli? Who the hell eats white pizza with broccoli?”
    Donata didn’t bother to mention that she didn’t figure a Witch and a Kobold had any better chance at success than aWitch on her own; Kobolds weren’t known for their penchant for logic.
    â€œI eat white pizza with broccoli,” she responded instead. Always choose your battles, that’s what her father taught her. “And you can have some, too, if you want. But leave the other one alone.”
    Ricky flicked open the second lid with one gnarly finger and let out a cry of joy. “Now that’s more like it! Tomato sauce, extra cheese, peppers, onions, sausage . . . this is a pizza!”
    Donata slapped his hand away (gently) and handed him a slice of the white pizza she’d gotten for herself. If she’d known she was going to share, she’d have gotten a larger pie.
    â€œSorry, but that one’s not for us. You’ll just have to make do with this one.” She made an