Witch's Bell Book One

behind glass, 'but you haven't dealt with many murders, have you?'
    Ebony couldn't stop her eyes from widening slightly, and as they did, she could bet that her stature had changed. If the Detective was half as good as he thought he was, then he'd notice the tiny change in her posture, the pale flash to her cheeks, the weak angle of her bottom lip. It was one of the hardest things about being a summoner witch, if someone was careful enough, they could read you like a book.
    But darn it, this guy was new! He'd only found out what witches were an hour ago, and now he was already sussing her out like a long-time friend. 'A magical,' she stressed the word, 'murder is not like your ordinary homicide. There are forces at play that you don't understand,' she cautioned, turning from him and walking determinedly down the corridor.
    'You mean more than the usual callus inhumanity of violence, degradation, and desperation?'
    Ebony ignored him, and finally walked up to Ben as he stood outside of an open door.
    'Where is it?' Ebony said softly, trying to stamp down on the terror that was raising its ugly head in the pit of her stomach. She had to be in control, she was Ebony Elizabeth Bell, after all.
    'Eb,' Ben tried for a smile, but it really couldn't hold against the sickly sallow of his skin. 'I was wondering where you'd gotten to. Body's in the bedroom, 'he added carefully.
    Ebony just swallowed and walked past him.
    She dearly wished she had a coat on. It wasn't just the terrible chill in the air, or the fact the sun was now completely hidden by slate-gray storm clouds: it was the fact she desperately wanted to hide her hands. The great thing about a coat was that you could plunge your hands into the pockets and no one would be able to see you digging your fingernails deep into your palms.
    With a breath, Ebony entered the apartment. The usual mix of uniformed officers, be-suited detectives, and forensics officers where milling about the place. Low, respectful mumbling filled the air, with the click, click, click of cameras as the forensics team tried to completely document the scene.
    To say the feeling hit her like a wall, wasn't quite right. The mix of dark, desperate dread drove through Ebony like monsoonal rain. She felt wet, not from water, but from fear-tinged sweat.
    'What do we know about the victim?' She heard Detective Nate announce to the room as he entered. 'Alone, single? She living with anyone?'
    But Ebony was slowly tuning-out to the bustle around her. Her eyes were drawn to the living-room walls and she walked towards them, like a sleepwalker in the night. She picked her way past the man taking photos of the underneath of the couch and past the uniformed officer flicking through the post on a dressing table, until she finally touched a hand to the plum-colored wall.
    Fingers pressed up against the cold paint, Ebony fancied she could feel the wall pulse erratically, like a heart coming to rest. There were symbols etched deep into its surface. They had been scratched into the plaster with a butter-knife maybe, or a used razor, or even the broken neck of a bottle.
    The symbols were wide and irregular, made by the shaky hand of the frightened, or the fitful rage of the frantic. They were dotted around the edge of two large circles. Both circles were painted on with what looked like red food-dye, but could easily have been watered-down blood.
    A powerful spell, thought Ebony, the coldest of shivers running through her.
    A hand latched onto her wrist, suddenly pulling her fingers from the wall. 'Haven't you ever heard of gloves?' Detective Nate asked, releasing her wrist after a moment.
    'You have more of a chance herding cats than getting Eb to follow procedure,' one of the forensics officers quipped from across the room.
    Nate obviously ignored him, staring at Ebony instead, before meaningfully depositing a pair of white latex gloves in her hand. 'This might be a magical murder, or whatever,' he intoned coldly as he surveyed the room. 'And I might be the rookie here. But there's one thing that I have a feeling is germane to all police work,' he snapped his head back to look at her, 'respect the crime scene. Don't go walking all over your clues before you know what they are. Now, you told me outside you watched, well, watching doesn't mean touching now, does it?'
    Ebony's shock at being pulled from the wall so quickly turned into bristling anger. 'Excuse me, are you, or are you not the same man who walked into