Dirty Magic Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Babylon real estate developer and major contributor to the mayor’s campaign, John Volos was also in attendance at the event.” The image jump-cut to one of the mayor glad-handing a disgustingly handsome man in a tux that cost more than most people made in a month.
    I tried not to choke on the suddenly dry mouthful of cake.
    Unlike Mayor Owens’s elector-granted influence and potion-bought looks, the charisma and power radiating from John Volos existed on a chromosomal level. Even when we’d been kids, he’d been a force of nature.
    The screen switched to tape of Volos smoldering into the camera, a perky redhead on his arm. “I’m proud to put my support behind Mayor Owens. He’s done so much to encourage the redevelopment of the Cauldron, which is an issue close to my heart.”
    “What heart?” I snorted.
    “Huh?” Danny murmured.
    “Nothing.”
    He looked up and saw the TV screen. “Hey! It’s John.”
    I slapped the off button with more power than I’d intended. The TV jumped and the screen went black.
    “Jeez, what crawled up your butt today?”
    “Finish your breakfast.”
    He rolled his eyes and pulled the earphones down. I glared at the screen for a few seconds behind Danny’s back, but a honk from the curb outside tore me away from my foul mood.
    I nudged Danny. “Move it, kid.”
    He grimaced and looked up like I’d just interrupted him performing important surgery.
    “Pen’s out front,” I added.
    Penelope Griffin was my best friend. When we’d met we’d both been waitresses at a crappy chain restaurant while we worked our ways through college. I’d been earning my night-school degree in criminal justice while she worked toward her master’s in school counseling. Now she was a counselor at Meadowlake, the exclusive prep school Danny attended. Without her recommendation to the school board, I never would have gotten him away from Babylon’s public prison-yard schools. Luckily, Pen also had worked a favor from the finance office for a small discount on the astronomical tuition.
    Danny nodded and jumped out of his chair. While I went to the back door and waved at Pen, he scrambled to shove his books into his knapsack.
    “What’s up with the eye?” she called, leaning across the passenger seat.
    “Long story.”
    “I’ll come over tonight for a beer and you can fill me in, okay?”
    I nodded just as Danny brushed by me. “Have a good day!” I called in my best impersonation of June Cleaver.
    This earned me a grunt. After Danny was in the car with his face buried in the game again, Pen pulled away.
    I was turning to go back inside when a “Yoo-hoo” caught my attention. Glancing toward the house next door, I saw Baba limping across her front yard. Her long, gray hair flowed around her angular face and all the way down to her rear end, which was covered in the world’s ugliest housecoat. Her last name was Nowiki, but her real first name was kind of a neighborhood mystery since she insisted we all call her “Baba.” Depending on whom you asked, the Polish word meant either “grandmother” or “witch.” I’d never seen any kids running around her house, but I had seen Baba dancing around her backyard under a full moon. Naked.
    Witches are members of the Mundane pagan religions who use the rituals of magic to worship deities. Their magic could be strong—especially in groups—but not nearly as powerful or useful as the magic used by well-trained Adepts, who are able to harness energies that Mundanes can’t access. It’s kind of how a housewife uses ingredients in her kitchen to create a decent meal. The same items in the hands of a trained chef become culinary art.
    I crossed the yard to meet Baba halfway.
    “What the hell have you done to yourself? Look at ya!” she said by way of greeting. “Is that a black eye? And what’s with the bandage?” She reached for the edge of my sleeve to see more, but I shied away.
    “Just had a little run-in with a reluctant