Free Undercover Magic by Judy Teel

guard stopped trailing around after us," Falcon said.
    We approached another intersection of halls and I glanced toward the corner of the
     ceiling. I wasn't surprised to see another one of the tiny security cameras. They
     were all over the place.
    I slipped my hand into the front right pocket of my jumpsuit and wrapped my fingers
     around the tube hidden there. A quick press of my thumb on the base released an invisible
     pulse, both electric and with a tint of dimensional magic to it. The pulse expanded
     around us like a bubble to a circumference of about twelve feet. When it hit the camera,
     the light stopped blinking and stayed on.
    "How long did you say the recording loops?" I asked Falcon.
    "About twenty minutes. Maybe fifteen."
    I gave him a sour look. "That's a big difference."
    "You want prototypes, you get estimations. Here's the principal's office."
    We stopped in front of a door and I looked at the sign at the top that said "Principal".
     "Master detectives at work. That's us." Reaching in my left gynormous front pocket,
     I fished out my new handy-dandy retro camera based Spell Detector. I aimed the device
     at the doorknob.
    "Press the red button," Falcon said, looking over my shoulder.
    After I did, he peered at the readout screen on the back of the device. "No energy
     anomalies or fluctuations."
    "Meaning?"
    "No witchy poisons. Should be unlocked now."
    Dropping the refitted camera back into my left pocket, I retrieved the zapper, aka
     Video Disrupter something-or-other, from the right. I aimed the silver tube at the
     top of the door, roughly in the direction of the ceiling in the other room, and pressed
     bottom.
    "Cameras are looping. We have ten minutes," I said.
    "Fifteen."
    "Humor me."
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SIX
     
     
    Cooper crouched in the shadowed ruins of a collapsed building. He pretended complete
     focus as he roasted the large rat he'd caught over a tiny fire.
    At one time, this section of town was where banks and commerce ruled. Now residents
     of the city called it the Dead Zone and the smart ones avoided it.
    His hair was messy, his clothes stained, and he'd smeared dirt on his face, hands
     and arms to complete the picture of pathetic desperation. Catching the rodent to cook
     had been a particularly inspired touch that had actually startled a laugh from Marc.
     He hadn't thought that was even possible.
    Behind the subterfuge, Cooper was keenly aware of the assassin slinking across the
     second story floor of the half blown-out building several yards away. The vampire
     moved toward the half-destroyed exterior wall so he'd have a nice, clear shot and
     got into position.
    Cooper took a second stick and poked at the cooking rat as if to test it for doneness.
     He'd eaten worse. Though not in a long time.
    The temptation to look up and determine how close the assassin was to taking a shot
     pulled at him, but he resisted. Any tip-off and they'd lose another opportunity to
     get the information they desperately needed. Just one capture and they'd have a chance
     at finding out who was trying to kill him. With that information, they could form
     a clearer idea of who was behind the VR production.
    He heard a small rustle of sound and imagined the vamp stretching out on his stomach
     and easing his slim rifle out of the sheath strapped to his back.
    It wouldn't be long now.
     
    *  *  *
     
    I'd seen a few principals' offices in my time, both before and after the attack, though
     admittedly they had less time to harass me after. Once the news about paranormals
     was out of the bag and the government started welcoming them into society, principals
     had bigger problems than a smart-mouthed foster kid who skipped school on a regular
     basis.
    There were lots of details to work out when society turned upside down and had to
     rebuild. Small things like, "How can our kids possibly compete in sports with Were
     children?" Or, "That little witch, Sally,