Free Stray Souls (Magicals Anonymous) by Kate Griffin Page B

know!”
    “And last night I went to the place where the spirits were and heard—”
    “Its howl, of course you fucking did, it’s been howling for weeks now and you’re just too fucking ‘boom’ to do anything about it, aren’t you?”
    “Its footsteps—”
    “Burn the earth, I know, I know!”
    Silence. Then the man whose blood was fire and whose eyes were an endless storm, said, “Sammy, in all the many things you know, and I get that there’s a lot, has it occurred to you that sometimes it’s just plain good manners to let the other guy finish?”
    “I’m a busy goblin, I can’t sit around for everyone else to catch up. Besides, you’re the Midnight Mayor–what you going to do about it?”
    The man addressed as the Midnight Mayor sighed. “I’m trying. It’s hard.”
    “Fucking lame.”
    “I’ve found someone I think you should meet.”
    “You wanting favours now? Bad habit to get into, needing favours.”
    “She’s a shaman.”
    “Any good?”
    “Maybe. Maybe very. But she needs training.”
    Sammy spat, a single globe of green-tinted spit flying across the floor. Where it hit concrete, it began to smoke, giving off a thin acrid white vapour. “Can’t be handling kids.”
    “It’s important.”
    Sammy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, a finger waggling towards the other’s face. “You…
scheming,
Midnight Mayor?” he asked.
    “Me? Scheme?”
    “Don’t get me wrong, I think you look like a thicko in a bin bag just like everyone else, but then that got me thinking, maybe you
want
to look like a thicko in a bin bag, maybe that’s all part of the game, pretend to be a thicko so that when you stop being a thicko everyone’s so surprised that no one notices you’re not that bright anyway.”
    “I can see you’ve thought this through.”
    “Too right.”
    A silence stretched like the screech of chalk across a blackboard.
    Then, “She’s founded this thing, this society. It’s called Magicals Anonymous.”
    “Shit name.”
    “Dog’s killings aren’t random.”
    “Course they ain’t.”
    “He’s targeting a very specific group of people, all connected to a very specific operation.”
    “Course he is! But you’re too tied up with the cash thing to do nothin’ ’bout it!”
    “The four greatest killers the world has ever seen are in town.”
    “What’s new?”
    The man addressed as the Midnight Mayor said, “I think they were hired by a wendigo.”
    Silence again.
    Then, “You pillock.”
    The man called the Midnight Mayor grinned. “Thought you might say that.”

Chapter 20
To Understand Others Is to Comprehend Yourself
    There were a lot of messages waiting for Sharon when she got home. Her shift had been long, occasionally stressful and frequently dull, all beneath the shadow of her boss, judging his employees without raising a finger to contribute. Three months she’d worked in the coffee shop, and that was two and a half months too long. But where else was she to go?
    She sat down in front of a tiny laptop, her leaving-school present to herself, and flicked through the logs. Most of the messages were via Facebook, and nearly all were from members of Weird Shit Keeps Happening to Me And I Don’t Know Why But Figure I Need Help. Some were nice. Sally the banshee wished to thank Sharon for her initiative and enthusiasm in chairing last night’s meeting; Gretel the troll had attempted to express her delight at Thai food and wondered if maybe next week they could try Mexican, but unfortunately the size of her fingers had crunched the keys and most of what emerged was an unintelligible medley of letters. Chris the exorcist had attempted to post an ad on Facebook for Exorminator–Exorcism With Love –which Sharon removed with a firm little note requesting that all promotional material be kept off the group page.
    One was from a stranger, requesting permission to join the group. There was a message attached, which read:
    Sorry to run off last night, but there was a