Magical Touch

By Hannah Muldery

My radio buzzed. A body had been discovered in the gray sector. Hopefully it would be a quick study since my shift ended in an hour.

“Officer Toki!” An elf, his face partially obscured by dark hair, flagged me down as I reached my squad car. “Wait up!”

“I’ve got a call.” I patted my radio with a gloved hand.

He jogged up to me. “I know. I’m your new partner.”

So my debate with the sergeant hadn’t worked. Blast. The last thing I needed was to babysit the rookie.

“Whatever.” I tossed him some spare gloves. “Put these on before you touch anything,” I ordered as I slid into the driver’s seat.

“Don’t want me messing with your magic?” He grinned, slipping them on and buckling up. “I learned about you in training. Miss Connect, they called you, due to your amazing reading ability. Natural magic?”

I opened my mouth, but he cut in.

“Why’d I ask? Of course it is. Mine’s natural, too.”

I sighed. “Look, rookie—”

“Chase.”

“Stay out of my way. I work better alone.” I slammed my foot on the gas, spinning out of the parking lot. A lame excuse. But Chatterbox Chase didn’t need to know the details. Bearing the burden of hundreds of tragic experiences wore me out. And the memories stuck. Not just of victims and witnesses, but of the times I’d accidentally touched my last partner, his life instantly playing like a movie in my mind.

“I’ll risk it. After all, I requested to work with you.” Chase turned to me, grinning again.

My fingers dug into the wheel. “You what?”

“As a telepath, I can confirm your live readings.”

So that’s why the sergeant had ignored my request. He didn’t want another failed testimony.

I swerved the police car to a halt behind a trash bin. “We’re here.”

Several cop cars crowded around a warehouse’s open garage door. Stupid, telepathic rookie. I kicked the front tire on my way past.

Chase eased out. “Okay, okay. I’m shutting off my mind reading now.”

Ignoring him, I marched to the cops crowded around a body.

They parted, revealing a dwarf girl splayed facedown on the ground. A gouge in her back oozed blood onto the cement. I covered my mouth. She couldn’t be more than seven years old.

Chase gagged.

Officer Griff, the senior officer of the group, sighed, long and heavy. “No witnesses,” he stated. “You know what to do, Officer Toki.”

I swallowed. How long could I continue this job? Yet, I was her best hope, the only one who could read her past. She deserved justice.

I pulled my glove off and crouched down. With one finger, I brushed her frizzy curls aside and touched her neck.

Closing my eyes, I sped her memory back until I felt her emotions calm, then allowed the memory to roll. A ragged dwarf—her father, I assumed—stood in the kitchen with his eyes shut while he counted down from ten. They’d made a home in this drafty warehouse, pulling a refrigerator and a couple of worn couches together around a coffee table. Stuffed animals lay on the nearest couch.

As the girl crept toward a corner, a massive hand engulfed her face while a strong arm crushed her against its body. Her pain and surprise shot through me. I instinctively sucked in air, then steadied myself.

“Please,” a voice called, “I’ll come back with you. Don’t hurt my daughter!”

“Too late,” a male voice responded.

I tried to focus on the scuffled noises, but her panic gripped my throat, distracting me. Something smacked hard against the cement, then silence. It sounded like a head cracking against the floor. Our stomach dropped. Dad! If only we could help him. We struggled, but the thick arms tightened, our bodies crushed against the creature. We both cried out.

Pull yourself together. She needed me to identify the attacker. I strained to see past the fingers, but no light shone through. I pressed my head forward and felt something rough brushing against our eyelids. Prickly and stiff.

Was that all? It would have to do. I hated this. Living through her memory, but without access to her thoughts. If only—

A sharp pain tore through our back. I gasped. It was over.

My eyes fluttered open as I sunk onto the cement. Chase’s bare hand had pulled mine off. His anguish slipped into my mind.

I jerked away from him. “I’m fine,” I huffed. “The murderer—” I forced myself to think back, chills spreading over me. My stomach lurched. “Thick, short fur covered huge fingers. Incredibly strong. Possibly a minotaur.” I massaged my sore forehead. “I estimate two assailants. But they covered her eyes, so I couldn’t ID them.”

Officer Griff pulled out his notepad.

“I can confirm that.” Chase shifted beside me. “The deceased recognized the voice of the one attacking her father. A half-elf, always accompanied by a minotaur. Unfortunately, she didn’t know their names.”

Nodding, Officer Griff scribbled notes on his notepad.

“How did you—” I steadied myself with my gloved hand.

Chase rubbed the back of his neck. “I should have explained it to you earlier, but I’d never tested it. Normally, I can only read the minds of living creatures. But by touching your hand and the deceased, I could hear her thoughts as you experienced her memory.”

My stomach clenched, anger brewing. He’d just jumped in. So like a rookie.

I breathed in, held it, and slowly let it out. True, he hadn’t asked permission. Yet, if he had waited… My throat tightened, and my head pounded at the thought of reading her memories a second time.

I held my gloved hand out. Chase hesitated, then pulled me up off the cement. “Well done, Officer Chase.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up as I shook his hand.

Perhaps I could use a partner, after all.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hannah Muldery has always loved escaping into stories. Her favorite book is a toss up between Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island or Kidnapped. She spends her time as a freelance artist painting geeky artwork and working on an adventure novel who’s main character struggles with anxiety. When not creating, Hannah can be found watching Stargate SG-1 with her hubby and two cats.

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