Free Blood Magic by T. G. Ayer

she hung the chain around my neck.
    "Keep it on you at all times. It will protect you against most spells."
    "Most?" I frowned, not liking the sound of that.
    She nodded. "There are some spells that this protection will fail against. Like anything that uses your own blood, for example." Natasha raised an eyebrow and I nodded. Then she moved back to her desk. "There is one more thing , of course. Nathaniel will ask for blood. If he asks for a life, then leave. He will call you back because blood, any human blood, is precious to him. It strengthens his magical power and his spells. And since you are a mage, he will be all the more keen for a drop of your blood." She sat heavily onto her chair, and from the creases on her forehead and the bow of her shoulders, I knew she was worried. "The best way to trick him is to not use magic."
    I frowned. That was new. "No magic?"
    "Yes." She opened the drawer in front of her and withdrew a long object wrapped in leather and twisted it to reveal the hollow handle. "This is a trick knife. The kind used by fake magicians. See how the inside of it is hollow? With a little pressure, the point of the knife opens to allow the blood to leak out. It will look like you are cutting yourself." Natasha handed the knife over to me. After a quick inspection I gave it back. "So. Whose blood are we using?"
    Natasha laughed, the tension in her face easing a little. "Don't worry. I am not donating. We will use blood from my milking cow."
    I raised my eyebrows but didn't question her. She knew what she was doing. I hoped.
     
    ***
     

Chapter 13
    The precinct hummed with low voices and the tapping of keyboards as Saleem watched Fulbright make his way to his desk, coffee cup in one hand and a file in the other. Chances were that file was filled with notes on Mel Morgan. Fulbright's face was pinched and red, skin sagging and dark under his eyes. He reached his desk opposite Saleem's, tugged the gaudy orange tie from his neck and unbuttoned his collar. It did nothing to improve the thick lines of his neck. The detective grunted, then took a swig from his cup. He drew the back of his hand across his mouth, slapped the file on the desk and proceeded to rifle through his IN tray with his unoccupied hand. Most of the papers were tossed aside. Then he returned his attention to the file. In all that time, he hadn't looked at Saleem once.
    "Rough night?" Saleem asked, trying to keep the scorn out of his voice. He disliked the odious man but he wouldn't let him know it.
    "Yeah." Fulbright's gaze remained on his file.
    Sure, his rough night was all in his head. As far as Saleem had seen , the tracker hadn't left her house all night. Last night he'd staked out the stakeout, especially curious as to why the detective had told him the watch was canceled. From his position around the corner from Ms. Morgan's house, Saleem had kept an eye on the detective through the night. Nothing had happened which would frustrate Fulbright no end. And seems his decision to keep a closer eye on the cop had been the right one. Fulbright kept too many things too close to his chest. Saleem decided to encourage a better answer. He leaned forward and asked, "Anything happen?"
    Fulbright looked up and studied him for a moment, his expression cold and impersonal. Then he replied. "Yeah, I've got a few things to investigate before I'm sure. I'll let you know." He returned his gaze to the file.
    Bastard.
    Saleem ground his jaw as he stared at the top of Fulbright's head. The man rubbed him the wrong way and that was dangerous. Magic pulsed through Saleem's veins but he tamped it down. He was here to watch the man, not incinerate his ass.
    The phone rang, pulling Saleem safely back to reality. Fulbright glanced up at him, giving the phone a pointed look. Saleem gritted his teeth and picked up the receiver.
    It turned out to be a call from missing persons. A teenage boy was missing. At last a chance to watch Fulbright in action. He took a few notes