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  The sirens grew louder and two cop cars pulled into the nearby parking lot with their lights on, outshining my little mage reading light. I put my hand up to shield my eyes as Sargent Jenkins got out of the car with some real firepower.

  “Et abiit in horreo! Ite in quodam loco ab secure mecum,” I read from the magazine, adding my own choice for where it should go, and pointed at the troll. It promptly shrunk to the size of a Labrador Retriever and poofed out of existence.

  Chapter Three

  “Whoa, what the hell?” Jenkins said. “What the hell was that, Cabbage?”

  “That, was a troll. I shrunk him and sent him to a city jail cell,” I said. “Look, Douglas is hurt.”

  Jenkin gave me a look like, not again. He had scooped up my last partner who had barely survived our exploits. Jenkins ran past me and where the troll had been to see to Douglas. I walked over feeling about a hundred years older than I actually was.

  Douglas lay unconscious with ugly scratches and bruises. His arm bent the wrong way and he sounded gurgly as he breathed. Jenkins spoke into his radio mike for an ambulance, which somehow worked where mine didn’t.

  No dampening field? I tried my waterlogged radio and…nothing. Well, crap. Even so, I was feeling pretty chuffed over my handling of the troll when I walked up to Jenkins. “I could try to transport him to the hospital.”

  Jenkins shook his head. “If it’s all the same, I think we should wait for the ambulance.”

  “Suit yourself.” I shrugged.

  Two other officers that I didn’t know appeared. “Come on,” Jenkins said. “Let’s get a perimeter set up in case there are other trolls.” Jenkins called dispatch for the Denver Wizard Task Force while I joined the other officers searching for more trolls. I spent the better part of a half hour walking the length of Grasmere Lake hoping I wouldn’t see anything else.

  I had just walked back to the patrol cars when a van with huge DWTF letters turned in with its lights flashing. The ambulance had already arrived, picked up Douglas, and left in a hurry. Thankfully, neither of them had their sirens on. Geez, that’s all we need were a bunch of lookie-loos where the troll had been.

  The DWTF driver pulled up next to the other patrol cars, effectively blocking them in. A man jumped out of the passenger side and strode forward, his uniform gleaming gold with magic. Tall with non-regulation long blond hair, golden boy raised his chiseled jaw haughtily as he surveyed the scene. Then, his gaze landed on me.

  I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. A bad night had just gotten worse. I turned my back to him and became interested in some moss on the ground, but he had already seen me. “Cabbage…” His voice drew out my nickname with disdain. “When I heard an officer was down, I should’ve known it’d be your partner. You’re getting quite a reputation.”

  “Winter,” I said. Coldly, I might add, but I was addressing the man, and not the season. “No need for the task force to show up. DPDS has it all handled. Go back to your lair or wherever you work.”

  Frank Winter glared. Despite outranking me, being a wizard and a cop, he looked about twenty-four, which meant he was the same age as I was. Only he had enough cred to get into the Denver Wizard Task Force while I didn’t. He came from one of the Ivy League wizard schools back East, though why he came out West to Denver was beyond me. Word had it that his grades weren’t that hot and that this was the best he could get when the FBSI—that is, the Federal Bureau of Supernatural Investigation, the sister organization of the FBI that handled supernatural crime—wouldn’t take him. “Go back to the station. You’ve got some paperwork to handle.” With that, he turned and called Jenkins over to fill him in.

  No thank you; no nothing. Just like that I was dismissed. Instead of going back, I spent the next hour running police tape that said “Police Investigation. Do Not Cross,” and looking for more trolls that didn’t appear. In the meantime, I heard that Douglas was still alive, but a hurting unit. Probably would be on leave for a while. Looked like I was getting another partner.

  When my fellow officers were certain that nothing was going to destroy Washington Park any further, they started filtering out. I was looking to catch a ride with Jenkins, only to find his cruiser gone. My own cruiser had been towed to maintenance, but I suspected it was a write off. Just as I was going to ask one of the other guys for a ride, he drove off. Since I didn’t have a car, it left me to hoof it back to the station. There was no way in hell I’d take a ride from Winter.

  My clothes were mostly dry now due to Colorado’s lack of humidity. The cool Denver night air felt good, despite the constant brown cloud that cloaked it throughout the year. At one time, the brown cloud only showed up in winter, but now with the influx of new inhabitants, it became a year round thing, despite stricter air quality measures. Denver’s air ranked right up with the big cities for pollution.

  Thankfully Precinct 3 was only a few blocks away. I wasn’t the fittest in DPDS, but I was in damn side better shape than Jimmy Dean Douglas. I almost stopped walking as I thought about him. The fool could’ve gotten himself killed with that stunt he pulled.

  I wasn’t relishing the thought of partner number six. Word gets around when your partners end up in hospitals. Douglas only took me because he was a total loser nobody wanted to partner with.

  I was thinking about how my first two partners had been decent, if they hadn’t ended up in the hospital. George Talon, my first partner, was senior and experienced. Word has it he was still in rehab and might end up on permanent disability. No matter what anyone says, that dragon was in no way my fault. How I got out of it unscathed is beyond me.

  I tried my radio two or three times before resigning myself that the lake water shorted it out. I had just turned the corner of Louisiana and York when my magic senses alerted. The closest I could come up with what it’s like is when Spiderman’s spidey senses tingled, warning him of impending danger. It wasn’t yet trash day out in the Washington Park neighborhoods, but one house had its mini Dumpster out early. Just the thing to call out the trash pandas, stray dogs, and the occasional supernatural scavenger. Code enforcement would have a field day with these yahoos, I thought, but seeing it was on the other side of the street, I didn’t feel like being an asshole cop and writing it up.

  The lid flipped open and something dark perched on the rim. Too big to be a fairy and too small to be a goblin, kobold, or some other scavenger I knew, it looked like a gargoyle had sprung to life from one of the older Denver buildings. Against my better judgment, I sent a mage light toward it. It stopped what it was doing and looked up at me.

  Horns sprouted from atop the creature’s head. Its misshapen face twisted in a grimace as the light hovered over it. Its cat’s eyes narrowed at me and it flapped its bat-like wings once before neatly folding them along its back. It lashed a pointed tail back and forth in obvious annoyance at being disturbed. It wore a grimy orange Denver Broncos T-shirt, belted at the waist with a rope that hung down to its clawed feet. It swatted once at the light, but I managed to move it out of its reach.

  “You mind?” the creature croaked. “Trying to get a meal here.”

  “Sorry,” I said, and dismissed the light. “Try not to make a mess and I won’t be back.”

  “Hmmph,” the creature replied. I continued walking and it added, “Nice bit with the troll.”

  I stopped in surprise. “You saw?”

  “Yeah, over by the lake? Quick thinking with the ice.” From what I could tell, it nodded with approval. “You a wizard or something?”

  A smile crept over my face. “No, just a cop.”

  “A cop with magic, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “What are you? A gargoyle?”

  The little creature laughed. It sounded like coughing. “A gargoyle? I’d be insulted, if it wasn’t so funny.”

  “Okay, I give. What are you?”

  The little guy drew himself up all two and a half feet. “I’m a demon.”

  I laughed. “No shit?”

&
nbsp; He glared at me, his red irises glowing in the dark. “What’s so funny?”

  “Aren’t you a little short to be a Stormtrooper?”

  “What?” the demon said.

  “Nothing.” I couldn’t help myself. “Move along. Move along.” I chuckled as I walked down the sidewalk. Pocket demons. What would they think of next?

  Unlike the demons of Christianity and many other religions, demon was a term for creatures that lived in other planes of existence. They didn’t come from the depths of hell or any of that nonsense. They were usually spirits, although they could take physical forms in our world. Their bad reputation came from when they were summoned. Like us, they didn’t care to be someone’s slave and do their bidding, and usually took their anger issues out on the person who conjured them, if the person couldn’t bind them to their will. I had heard of summonings that went wrong and the demon was so angry it killed the wizard. Seeing a little unbound demon like this without an apparent summoner suggested that the demon wasn’t what the wizard wanted. The mage probably didn’t want to waste the energy and bother to send him back to his plane. Some wizards are hose bags.

  I felt a soft tap on my shoulder as I walked under a streetlamp on York. I spun around, my Glock out, ready to shoot.

  “Whoa, dude!” The demon raised both hands and backed up in the air. “You’re tetchy today.”

  “I didn’t hear you sneak up on me.” I holstered the weapon. I prided myself on being situationally aware. Either I was losing my touch, or the demon could move silently.

  “Sorry. I forgot.” The demon looked fairly contrite. “I didn’t catch the name.” He peered at my badge. “Ironspell? Ironspell-Ca?”

  “Officer Robert Ironspell-Cabas,” I said, annoyance crept into my voice. “They thought my last name had too many letters and docked the last three.”

  “Ironspell and Cabas?” the demon mused. “Interesting.”

  “What is?”

  “Your names. In case you weren’t aware, we demons are always interested in names.”

  “Really?” I said. I knew that they were, and I knew that demons often had ulterior motives. Often to the summoner’s detriment. But I hadn’t called this demon. I certainly didn’t know how—it was way beyond my skill level. And even if I were inclined to summon a demon, I’d hope I’d conjure one with a bit more…size. “I suppose you won’t give me yours?”

  The demon hesitated for a moment. “Tuzren,” he finally said. “You might want to remember it, because it’ll come in handy someday. Just don’t spread it around, okay?”

  “Tuzren, huh?” I said. “So, Tuzren, what’s so interesting about my last name?”

  Tuzren cocked his head. “I’m assuming it’s a combination of your parents’ names, yes?”

  “Yeah, that’s what the hyphen usually means.”

  Tuzren chewed his lip for a moment. “Your parents are both magic users?”

  I shrugged.

  “You need a familiar?” He waggled his eyebrows.

  I grinned. “Go back to your Dumpster. I’m a cop, not a mage.”

  “Hmmph.” Tuzren snorted. “Look, if you change your mind, just call me.”

  “Right,” I said. I watched as the little demon flitted back to the Dumpster and dug into the contents.

  I turned around and walked the last few blocks to the police station. I expected it to be quiet since everyone was on shift. Instead, cops were everywhere and it looked like some extra on-calls got pulled for duty. I walked into the station, wondering what the big deal was.

  Everything and everyone in the station got quiet. All eyes turned to me. I hesitated. This can’t be good, I thought.

  Chapter Four

  Nobody said anything for a long moment, making me wonder what the hell happened. Did they hear how I managed to banish a troll from Washington Park? More likely they heard Douglas was in the hospital, making him my fifth partner to end up on injury leave. That had to be some kind of record, even in this department.

  “Ironspell-Cabas!” Captain Lewis shouted. “In my office, NOW!”

  Definitely not a promotion. I did the walk of shame through the station. I could feel 50 eyes on me as I went into his office and shut the door. This was going to be loud.

  Captain Lewis loomed over his metal desk, the muscle in his jaw twitching as I walked in and shut the door. I’m not the smallest guy around, but the captain positively dwarfed me. Despite the cool air in the office, sweat dripped from his shaved head that darkly glistened under the fluorescent lights.

  “I just got off the phone from the mayor’s manor.”

  I cocked my head, wondering what that had anything to do with tonight. “The mayor?”

  “Shut up and listen.” He tugged at his collar that was way too tight for someone with that muscular of a neck. “Yeah, the mayor. Seems someone transported a small troll into the residence.”

  “Oh.” I formed the word, but no sound came out.

  “It’s right now trashing the place,” the captain continued. “Luckily, the mayor isn’t home and everyone got out, but…”

  “You want me to go take care of it.” I started to turn.

  “No! I want you to quit fucking up.” Lewis glared at me. “I know you had a hand in getting rid of the troll in Wash Park, but Ironspell, you’re not a licensed magic user. We have wizards and mages for that sort of thing—you should’ve called for the DWTF back up when you saw the troll.”

  “We did. Douglas went after it…”

  “He was your partner!” Lewis slammed down a meaty fist. Everything jumped on his desk. I leapt back a good two feet. “Something you seem to forget when you go out on patrol.” He paused and glared at me. “You know how many partners you’ve been through?”

  “Six.”

  “Yeah, SIX. Six good men.”

  “It hasn’t been my fault,” I said. Sweat dripped down my own neck, despite being cold from the dousing I received.

  “They were your partners. It was your fault.”

  I stared at Lewis, stunned at his accusations. “Are you saying that I’m responsible for Douglas’s screw up? Or Talon getting torched? Or Michaels and I getting jumped by drunk ogres? How the fuck was I supposed to prevent that?” I paused. “Sir.” I added lamely.

  Lewis stared at me for a long moment and then shook his head. “I know, I know. But six, Ironspell? Seriously? You know what the others are saying about you?”

  “Nobody wants to partner with me.”

  “Yeah, because they think you’re cursed.”

  “Tell Douglas to not go off half-cocked with no backup without knowing what he’s getting into,” I said. “And tell him to quit bumming coffees from his partners.”

  Lewis shook his head again. “This time, you’ve gone too far. You got the mayor pissed at you for dropping that troll in his mansion.” He raised a finger when I started to protest. “Now, I know you have a lot of promise as a cop, but you’re reckless, especially when it comes to magic. You’re not part of the Denver Wizard Task Force here. This is the Denver Police Department Supernatural unit. What does that mean?”

  I sighed. “It means we assess the situation and respond if we have Level One or Level Two threats,” I intoned.

  “And what level is a rampaging troll?” He met my gaze.

  “Level Five.” I muttered under my breath.

  “What was that?”

  “Level Five.” My voice showed my exasperation. “Look, what was I to do? Let the troll kill Douglas? There was no fucking way a DWTF fucking wizard would show up before Douglas was troll hamburger meat. I deserve a fucking medal for taking down that troll.”

  “And putting it in the mayor’s mansion,” Lewis reminded me. “Look, Ironspell, my hands are tied on this. I’ve got to put you on administrative leave until things calm down and the investigation acquits you of any wrongdoing.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Ironspell, but those are the rules. Be glad it’s not leave without pay.” He looked down at the papers on his desk. “Dism
issed.”

  “That’s it?” I protested. “Don’t you even wonder why there’s a troll in Washington Park?”

  Lewis looked up and glared at me. “Not my concern, and it sure as shit isn’t your concern. You’re dismissed. Get out of my office before I have someone throw you out.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay.” There were a million things I wanted to say, but there was nothing I could say to change his mind. I turned and walked out of the door, bracing myself for the ridicule.

  “Heya Cabbage! Got any troll-be-gone?” Jenkins shouted from the back of the bullpen. Chuckles and guffaws followed the comments. I went to my desk to grab some personal items. On my desk sat several of those troll dolls with fluorescent hair. I opened up the drawers to find more troll dolls.

  “Ha ha, very funny,” I replied as I pulled out my latest alchemy and wizarding magazines. Luckily the other officers hadn’t grabbed them to use as toilet paper again. I thought about casting a quick cantrip as a going-away present, but I thought it might be best just to make a clean exit. I could always get back at them later.

  I went to the locker room, grabbed a shower, and changed into my civilian clothes. Luckily no one bothered to follow me in. Word gets around fast and I imagined the other officers thought I was a dangerous magic user. If they thought I was cursed, just antagonizing me beyond the occasional name calling and troll dolls might just bring down my wrath. Hell, I might turn them into a frog or something.

  I pulled my civilian clothes out of my locker. Worn gray jeans, a dark blue T-shirt with a wolf howling on it—a present from my girlfriend—and hiking boots. I also grabbed my Marmot windshell. Denver, for all its sunny days could be cold and windy at night.

  I looked at my watch. It was 5 a.m. The Normal bars would be closed, but the Supernatural bars stayed open until dawn. Truth be told, I was exhausted from the troll fight and wanted nothing more than to collapse in my own bed. I spun the dial on the padlock to my locker and left the station. Most of the other cops had left, and those few who were still here were busy with paperwork. Good. I went to the cop parking lot and climbed into my black Toyota 4Runner.