The spell fluttered, but I kept walking. We finished one twenty-foot strip and started up the next. I weaved through a minefield of beer cans and around the black scar of a campfire pit. Then I picked up a presence twice as strong as the others.

“Got something,” I said.

I hurried toward the source, climbed over a three-foot wall remnant, and startled a huge gray tabby. The cat hissed and tore off across the field, taking the presence I’d sensed with it. The spell snapped.

“Was that it?” Troy said.

“I can’t—” I shot a glare at Lucas. I knew he didn’t deserve it, but couldn’t help myself. I stamped off to the end of the swath, grabbed a stick, and poked at a pile of rags.

“Paige?” Lucas said, coming up behind me.

“Don’t. I know I’m overreacting, but I hate—”

“You didn’t fail. The spell was working. You found the cat.”

“If I can’t tell the difference between a cat and a sixteen-year-old boy, then, no, it’s not working. Forget it, okay? I should be looking for Jacob, not field-testing spells.”

Lucas moved up behind me, so close I could feel the heat from his body. He dropped his voice to a murmur. “So you uncover a cat or two along the way. Who cares? Troy doesn’t know how the spell’s supposed to work. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

Too much ground. We’d been here at least thirty minutes and barely searched a thousand square feet. I thought of Jacob being out there, waiting for rescue. What if it was Savannah? Would I be plodding through the field, bitching at Lucas then?

“Can you guys keep up the manual search?” I whispered so Troy couldn’t overhear. “I don’t want…I don’t want you relying on my spell.”

“That’s fine. We’ll cover ground faster that way. We have my light spell, as poor as it is. You take yours, go to the opposite side of the field, and start there.”

I nodded, touched his arm in apology, and headed off with my light-ball trailing after me.

This time the sensing spell worked the first time. Or, I thought it worked, but something was wrong. The moment I cast, I felt a presence, a dozen times stronger than the cat’s. I broke the cast, and tried again. Failure, then success. But the presence was still there, down a narrow alley between two buildings. Should I alert Lucas and Troy? And what, drag them over to help me uncover a whole litter of cats? This I could check myself. No sixteen-year-old boy would be scared off by the sight of me.

I ended the sensing spell and directed my light-ball to stay around the building corner. There it would cast a dim glow, enough to see by, but not enough to spook a kid who likely knew little about the supernatural.

I slipped into the alley. The presence had come from a few yards down, along the east side. Less than ten feetaway I saw a recessed doorway. That’d be it. I picked my way through the refuse, making as little noise as possible. Beside the doorway, I pressed myself against the wall. A smell wafted past. Cigarette smoke? Before I could process the thought, my body followed through on its original course of action, swinging around the doorway. There, in the shadows, was a teenage boy.

I smiled. Then I saw another boy beside the first, and another behind him. Something rustled behind me. I turned to see my exit blocked by another bandana-wearing teen. He said something in rapid-fire Spanish to his friends. They laughed.

Something told me this wasn’t Jacob.

The Local Wildlife

ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING. THEREFORE, WHEN FACED WITH four—oh, wait, there’s another—five inner-city gang members, the worst thing you can do is turn tail and run. And why should you? Well, the presence of lethal weaponry might answer that question, but that’s not how I see it. These are kids, right? People, just like everyone else. As such, they could be reasoned with, so long as one took the right stance. Firm, but polite. Assertive, but respectful. I had every right to be here, and furthermore, I had good cause. A cause that they might be able to assist.

“Hello,” I said, standing tall and looking up to meet the eyes of the one I assumed was the leader. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m looking for a teenage boy who went missing around here. Have you seen him?”

For a moment, they just stared at me.

“Yeah?” one in the back said finally. “Well, we’re looking for some money. Have you seen any? Maybe in your purse?”

A round of snickers. I turned to the speaker.

“As you’ve probably noticed, I’m not carrying a purse. I—”

“No purse?” He turned to his friends. “I think she is hiding it, under her shirt. Two big purses.” He made the universal male gesture for large br**sts.

I waited through the inevitable guffaws and resisted the urge to tell them that, as boob jokes went, this was one of the lamer ones I’d heard.

“He’s sixteen,” I said. “Tall. Dark hair. White. Someone was chasing him. He may be hurt.”

“If we saw him, he would be hurt. No one comes here and just walks out again.” He met my gaze. “No one.”

“Ah,” a voice said behind us. “Well, perhaps this evening you gentlemen could make an exception.” Lucas took my arm. “We apologize for the misunderstanding. Please excuse us.”

The thug behind me stepped up to Lucas and flicked open a switchblade, keeping the knife down at his side, a covert threat.

“Nice suit, pocho,” he said, then dropped his gaze over my skirt and blouse. “Where did you two come from? The f**king mission?”