The screen indicated that Qenzi was typing. It went on for some time.
“Brace yourself,” Val told the dog. “Here comes a nerdy answer.”
The response came in the form of a text so long Val had to scroll to read the whole thing.
Certainly not. I’m not aware of any such magic, for one thing. For another, animals are amazing when it comes to magic. Unlike humans, most animals can see through the Veil, particularly wild animals. Domesticated animals lose the ability to an extent, but they can still sense magic. They also have an innate ability to feel the difference between good and evil magic. Your dog likes your amulet because it holds great power, significant enough that even his relatively dull senses (compared to the senses of, say, a wolf or eagle) are attracted to it. He can tell that it’s good, pure magic.
Val chuckled. “That’s pretty cool, buddy.” She stroked the dog’s back.
How do we know that it’s good magic?
You got it from the queen.
Val shrugged.
True.
If it was evil magic, he’d bark at it and try to hide from it.
Val grinned.
Makes sense. At least he’ll warn me if dark magic users try to break down my door, right?
Qenzi sent laughing emojis.
That’s unlikely, anyway. We’re in the new Golden Age, remember? Dark magic is rare these days.
Val shivered, remembering the effects Mordred’s black magic had on the land.
Thank Merlin for that.
The sound of metal on tiles drew her attention. The dog had licked the last specks of food from his bowl and was pushing it around the floor.
“Aw, good boy!” Val rubbed his ears. “What a good boy!”
The dog gave a dog grin, and his tail stirred his bed’s soft fluff.
“Want more?” Val grabbed the empty bowl and rose. “I had a feeling you’d like this. There’s another can if you want it.”
She placed the bowl on the kitchen counter and rummaged in her backpack. Before she could find the can, her phone vibrated, the long and insistent buzz of an incoming call.
“Qenzi wants to talk nerdy dog shit,” Val informed the dog.
He barked.
Val raised the phone to her ear. “Hey, Qenz.”
“Valerie?” a man yelped, panicking.
Val stiffened. “Mateo?”
The bodega owner was breathless. “Please, you need to come quickly.”
Val grabbed Genevieve’s keys and strode to the door, ignoring a questioning bark from the dog. “What’s happening?”
Mateo’s voice trembled. “It’s your new tenant. She’s causing shit.”
Genevieve tore up the block. As she drifted around the turn to the bodega, Val saw the upside-down car and the shimmer of police lights, and her heart dropped into her boots.
“Shit, shit, shit,” she growled, skidding into the bodega’s parking lot. The queen’s words filled her mind. Her crimes are your crimes under Eternity Law. Don’t let her get away from you.
What had Tetra made Val guilty of?
Whatever it was, it was bad. Val stepped out of Genevieve and stood beside the Mustang, taking in the chaos. Yelling and distant, howling sirens filled the air. Blue and red lights spun across the little bodega’s façade, sparkling on the broken glass strewn in its doorway. A red sedan with peeling paint lay on its roof in the parking lot. Shattered glass and white airbags added to the scene’s ambiance.
A few yards from the bodega door, two cops struggled to gain control over a bunch of large, tattooed guys sporting gold chains and backward baseball caps, who screamed and waved their fists. A third cop hung into Tetra, who was in handcuffs. A streak of blood painted the faerie’s cheek. She struggled against the cuffs, yelling.
“It wasn’t my fault!” she screamed.
“That bitch tried to kill us!” one of the guys shouted.
A second guy gestured furiously at the sedan. “Look what she did to my car!”
Val saw Mateo cowering behind the counter in his shop, and scarlet fog soaked her vision. Her muscles jumped and trembled with rage as she crossed the parking lot in long strides, hobnails ringing on the asphalt.
“STOP!” she thundered. Her amulet’s ruby eyes flashed like lasers.
