Free Dirty Magic by Jaye Wells

years. You’ve barely had any vacation besides a few days you took off when Danny got an ear infection or something. Maybe taking the suspension will give you time to figure out what you really want.”
    “You think I don’t know what I want?”
    “I think you thought you knew.” She leaned forward and put a hand on my knee to soften the emotional gut punch. “But I sometimes wonder if you actually want what you got. Arresting wizards won’t bring your mother back, Kate.”
    “Jesus, don’t pull that shrink shit on me,” I said, my voice rising in a combination of anger and panic. “I worked too hard to get where I am—”
    “Just because you worked hard to get here doesn’t mean this is where you belong.”
    My stomach dropped. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
    She held up her hands. “Settle down, Katie. I’m not attacking you.”
    “You just told me you think I’m some sort of fraud.”
    “Is that what I said?” She tilted her head. “Or is that what you heard?”
    My mouth snapped shut. Time to regroup before I gave her any further ammunition for the commitment hearing. “Look, I’m not saying things are perfect. You know I’ve been struggling to get promoted off the beat for a while now with no luck. There’s never enough money unless I sign up for a lot of overtime, but then I never see Danny.” Saying all that aloud made me short of breath, as if a tide were rising around me. “But if I can prove myself on this task force, everything will be easier. The pay will be better. The schedule a little more flexible so I can be here more.”
    “He’s practically a man now, Katie.”
    “I know,” I snapped. My eyes strayed to the light coming from his bedroom. “Anyway,” I continued in a less combative tone, “I know life isn’t perfect. But I still love the work and this task force is everything I’ve been working toward. Plus, if I had to sit around here in my bathrobe while they finish the investigation I’d go batshit.”
    She raised a brow.
    “Well, bat shitt
ier
.”
    She finally cracked a smile. “Just watch your ass.” My best friend raised her bottle and clinked it with mine. “I’d hate to have to kick it if you got hurt.”

Chapter Eight

    T he next morning, I woke up with a little extra zing in my veins. I’m not usually one for all that today-is-the-first-day-of-the-rest-of-your-life crap, but for the first time in a long time I felt like I might actually make a difference. Not just on the Cauldron’s streets, but in our lives—mine and Danny’s. My new sense of purpose and pride lasted about as long as it took me to walk into the kitchen.
    “What are you wearing that for?” Danny’s mouth was screwed up as though his toaster pastry had gone rancid.
    My lips pressed into a grimace. Guess I didn’t have to ask him how I looked. “Got a meeting this morning.”
    “At a funeral home?”
    I shot him a look but didn’t argue. The last time I’d worn the black suit was at my mother’s funeral ten years earlier. When I’d pulled it out of the back of my closet that morning, it had been hard to miss that the hem was drooping and the color faded with time. But Gardner had said dress for the job, and I imagined MEA types only wore suits.
    Turning to grab the coffee from the cupboard, I reminded myself that I wouldn’t be wearing the frumpy suit for long. The minute that sweet MEA overtime kicked in I’d be able to afford some new duds.
    I glanced at the holes in the knees of Danny’s jeans. Make that new duds for both of us.
    “Seriously, though,” Danny said, “what kind of meeting?” He paused, his face going squinty and suspicious. “Wait—did Principal Anderson call you?”
    “No,” I said dragging out the word. “Why would your principal be calling me?”
    He forced a laugh and fidgeted with the cord of his headphones. “No reason.”
    I shot him my best interrogator’s glare, but he didn’t break. “Anyway, it’s about a new