Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

JASON

I bolted upright in bed at a sharp sound overhead, my heart racing. Alan's familiar, Sunny, swooped across the room on outstretched wings, having apparently popped himself through the closed bedroom door. He squawked, "Wake up!"

"What?" I rubbed the remnants of a lingering nightmare from my eyes and licked my dry lips. The pounding of my pulse was from Sunny's shout, of course, not from my father almost catching me kissing a boy… I'm not that kid anymore.

The bed beside me lay empty, the sheets cool.

Alan's out running. I vaguely remembered turning over to go back to sleep when he left, still exhausted. My shift fighting a trash fire that would not die had lasted till four a.m. and I'd slept badly. I blinked away the dazed cobwebs of my dream.

I'm out and proud to everyone, including Dad. My boyfriend's a sorcerer, his familiar is a loudmouthed conure, and I love my life ? —

"Jason! Get up. Help!" Sunny landed on the covers and pecked my hand. "Someone's after Alan."

"What?" That broke through my fuzziness. I tumbled out of bed in my boxers. "Who?"

"Don't know." Sunny launched back into the air with a flutter of green-and-gold plumage and banked in a circle. "Trouble, though. Two cars' worth, following him on the back road. Come on!"

"Show me." I snatched up my phone, yanked the bedroom door open, and dashed for the kitchen with Sunny flying over my shoulder. At the back door, I paused for a moment to stuff my feet into sneakers. Worth two seconds to get good footing. My boxers would have to do. I looked about wildly for a weapon and grabbed the broom from beside the door, carrying it out with me. The air on the back deck still held a little chill, but the bright morning sun shone in my eyes.

As I leaped down the wooden stairs, broom in hand, Sunny winged three feet ahead of me. "This way. Cut across here." He led me between the neighbors' yards and out toward the next street over.

"What did you see?" I sprinted after him toward the route Alan and I usually ran in the mornings. Small clumps of trees and the neighbor's hedge screened my view of the road.

"Alan was jogging like usual, and two black cars turned a corner and began slowing down, creeping along behind him— there!" As we cleared the trees, Sunny accelerated at swift-winged speed toward the road ahead.

Alan stood on the grassy verge with a shiny black SUV stopped at an angle ahead of him, and a sedan pulled in behind. Two men in dark suits stood by the SUV.

I shouted, "Hey!" and ran as fast as I could.

Two burly men in black police or military uniforms with bulletproof vests and sidearms got out of the second car. Shit. Whatever was going on, I was way outgunned. I shook the broom over my head anyhow, shouting again to make them face me instead of Alan.

The armored goons turned my way, but one man in a suit pulled a handgun, aiming it at Alan. I heard him order, "Stay right where you are. Don't even breathe funny." Alan flung a wild-eyed look at me.

As I neared the sedan, the two men in uniform stepped in front of me, their hands hovering over their holsters. I skidded to a stop and dropped the stupid broom, not quite reckless enough to try to push past them. Looking between the goons, I called to the suit guys, "Hey, what's going on?"

The older one without the gun pulled a folder from his pocket and flashed it my way. "National Sorcery Enforcement and Protection. This is none of your business. Move along."

"Of course it is. That's my boyfriend." I met Alan's gaze and tried to convey some kind of reassurance.

The man ignored me and turned to Alan. "Mr. Hiranchai, you're under arrest for unauthorized use of magic as per subsection twenty-seven-dash-nine of the Civilian Protection Act of 1997."

Alan blinked, color draining from his face. "The which of what?"

The older man sneered. "Don't you even bother to know what laws you're breaking?" He gestured to one of the goons. "Secure the prisoner."

I expected handcuffs, but instead, the suit guy took a single shining metal circle out of his vest pocket and held it out to the goon. Alan flinched.

I demanded, "What's that?"

"None of your business."

"Suppressor cuff." Alan's voice sounded hollow.

I knew what that meant— a magic bracelet that locked away a sorcerer's powers. Alan and his friends used one for his elderly mentor Sylvester, who'd become dangerously erratic with his magic use. Sylvester consented when he was in his right mind, but I knew he hated the way it suffocated his power. "Wait. Just wait one fucking minute!" I took a step toward the older man.

An instant later, the nearest goon had a gun pointed at the side of my head, muttering, "Stand down and shut up. This has nothing to do with you."

I froze, but had to say, "Alan's a U.S. citizen."

The older man turned an icy glare on me. "He's a sorcerer. If you're going to hang out with those types, you should brush up on the laws." He gestured to the goon with the cuff. The younger suit guy held his weapon steady on Alan's chest.

Alan didn't resist as the black-uniformed guard shoved the silver circle up over his left hand and touched it, making the cuff magically contract around Alan's slim wrist. I saw Alan shiver as the metal closed around his skin and wanted to punch someone. The goon added a pair of conventional handcuffs, pulling Alan's hands together in front of him.

"Pat him down. Get his phone," the leader added.

The man who'd cuffed Alan began running rough hands over his T-shirt and sweatpants.

"Do you have an arrest warrant?" I demanded, trying to ignore the gun muzzle inches from my head.

The older guy barked a laugh. "We're affiliated with Homeland Security. We don't need one for an active threat."

"Alan's not a threat."

"Got it." The guard held up Alan's phone, then stuck it into his own pocket.

"Right. Let's move." The older man gestured toward the SUV.

"Wait!" I snapped. "Show me that badge again. Properly. Or I'll call every cop I know on you, and I know all the locals. You'll be pulled over before you get three blocks."

I was bluffing and expected to get brushed off, but from behind the nearby hedge, an elderly woman's voice called, "Who's there? Jason, is that you?" Only a slight rasp made me realize the voice was Sunny's mimicry. "Do you need me to call nine-one-one, Jason?"

After a hesitation, the man in charge called, "We are the police, ma'am." He dug in his pocket, strode over, and held the badge folder up to my face. I memorized the name— Lloyd Underhill — and the rank— Commander, NSEP — before he yanked it back.

Underhill turned to his men. "Bring Hiranchai along. And you—" He pointed at me. "We checked into you, Jason Miller. You're a normal human. Keep your head down and don't make trouble."

"Wait one fucking minute, Underhill?—"

"Jason!" Alan's voice stopped me when the gun pointed at my head couldn't. "Don't get involved. I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding. Take care of my pet for me till I get back."

I caught a faint sneer crossing one goon's face at the words till I get back . Ice water ran through my veins. "Where are you taking him? I'll call a lawyer. Where should they meet you?"

"They can inquire with NSEP head office, but I strongly advise you not to get involved," Underhill replied, then turned to his men. "Let's go."

The guard holding Alan hustled him toward the SUV. The younger suit guy opened the back door, and Alan's handler pushed him in. I caught sight of Alan's face as he glanced back, his normally tan skin washed pale. Then the goon shoved him farther over on the seat and got in beside him. Younger suit guy slammed the back door and climbed in the driver's side as Underhill rounded the hood and got in beside him.

I lurched a step toward them, but my guard pinned me in place with his unwavering handgun. "Stop. Don't get any stupid ideas. Hands up!"

"What do you think Alan did ?" I raised my hands unwillingly.

"Doesn't matter. He's a sorcerer. We're careful with those."

I belatedly remembered I was supposed to be an ignorant, ordinary human who had no clue why NSEP even existed. "Why be careful? Aren't sorcerers a bit of a joke? Harmless, mostly?" The Great Spell was a massive magical working over a hundred years old that made most regular folks see sorcerers that way. Harmless, entertainment for gullible people, showmanship, tricks of the light. Nothing to worry about, no real power.

Until I saw Alan battle a wildfire with his magic and banish a fire elemental, I'd thought the same.

The goon smirked. "Yeah, you go on believing that. Let's just say you've had a lucky escape. Pick someone less… exotic next time you want to get laid, huh?"

Exotic? Was that a fucking slur on the fact that Alan's Thai-American too? I gritted my teeth as the suit guys in the SUV reversed, straightened, and pulled away. The heavily tinted windows robbed me of a last glimpse of Alan.

My goon backed away from me toward the sedan, holstered his gun, and pinned me with a glare. "Stay out of Homeland Security business, you hear me?" He swung into the passenger side, slamming the door behind him. Whoever'd stayed in the driver's seat put the car in gear and pulled out onto the road.

Sunny whipped past my shoulder, making me flinch, and winged after the vehicles, flying low to the ground. In a moment, he'd caught up to the trunk of the sedan. Then he vanished. The SUV turned onto the cross street and the car followed, picking up speed.

What—?

I realized Sunny must've used his short-range teleportation power to jump himself into the trunk of the second car in a bid to follow Alan.

God, I hope it works. I hope they're going to the same place. I hope… Fuck!

Both vehicles sped out of sight down the road.

I lowered my hands and stared at the phone I was clutching. Call nine-one-one? But the ID had looked real, and the local cops probably wouldn't stand up to NSEP.

Erin. Sylvester. I found Erin's contact and stabbed it with a finger shaking with anger. Just anger. I clung to how furious I was as a guard against the abyss behind that anger. The phone rang, then went to voicemail. She could be driving or in the hospital for a shift. She didn't keep her personal phone on her while working with patients. I hung up and dialed Dale, her apprentice.

They answered on the second ring. "Mm? Jason?"

"Dale, what do you know about NSEP?"

"Who?" Their voice sounded slow.

I realized it was six-thirty in the morning. I'd probably woken them up. "NSEP. National Sorcery Enforcement something?" Alan had mentioned the sorcerer registry and the fact that he was flying under their radar, but the details had never come up. I cursed my ignorance now. "A bunch of guys in SWAT gear from NSEP arrested Alan on his morning run and took him away. Five minutes ago."

"Oh, shit." Dale sounded wide awake now. "Erin's not home. She worked an overnight, but she should be back soon. Let me get Sylvester."

After a pause, I heard the voice of Alan's old mentor, sounding like he was on speaker, "Hey, boy, you need something?"

He usually only called Alan "boy," so I said, "It's Jason, sir. I need information on NSEP. Who are they? How does someone get hold of them?"

"NSEP? Stay away from them. That's my advice. The humans and the sorcerers both. Un… un… unholy alliance, that one. Forced on us after the Upheavals, of course. Better they never notice you."

I hesitated a second, because Sylvester's reactions were unpredictable, but I needed information. "Too late. They just picked up Alan and took him away."

"The hell they did. Get him back!"

"I want to, believe me, but I've no clue what we're up against."

Sylvester cleared his throat loudly. "Bastards, that's who. Fuckers, nosing into things, telling us all what to do. Where's Sunny?"

I almost said, "Went after Alan," but then I realized I had no idea what NSEP could do. Had they left anyone behind to spy on me? How had they located Alan? Had they bugged our phones? "You know what? I'm coming to visit you. We'll talk when I get there."

"Good idea," Dale told me. "Erin should be home in twenty minutes."

"Right. Okay." I hung up and jogged home, my dick swinging uncomfortably in my loose boxers. I waved at Mrs. Nolan staring at me from her kitchen as I cut through the yard beside her window, half-dressed. Well, she wasn't my biggest fan anyway.

Once inside our house, I grabbed practical clothes, putting on supportive underwear and jeans, not shorts, because if this was a fight, I wasn't going into it freeballing. I pulled out my favorite hiking pack and stuck in my phone charger, a powerful flashlight, a pocketknife, some food for Sunny, and stuff from my camping toolkit, assembling a go-bag of sorts. I didn't know what we were heading into but be prepared for anything was a firefighter's motto.

Speaking of… I dialed my brother Chris.

"Jase, hey, it's supposed to be your weekend off." His light tone grated on me, but he had no way of knowing anything was wrong. He didn't even know Alan was a sorcerer.

"Are you heading to the station soon?" I asked. As assistant chief, Chris started at seven most weekdays instead of rotating.

"About to get in the car. What's up, bro?"

"I need time off."

"You've already got the next two days. You want to be completely off call?"

"Yes, but…" Off call meant that for two days, the department would call in a part-timer to take my place if a big fire broke out. But then I'd be up for another twenty-four-hour shift. Will this be over in two days? I hoped so with every fiber of my being, but nothing about Underhill's attitude suggested this was some kind of mistaken identity or brief interview. "I may need more. Sick days."

Chris's tone sharpened. "What's wrong?"

"Alan's in trouble and I need to go help. Don't know how long it'll take."

"In trouble? His health or something else?"

"I'm not sure." I wasn't confident that Underhill could be trusted not to hurt Alan physically, but that cuff suggested other threats. "Either way, I need time."

Chris said slowly, "I'm not sure how much I can give you with no advance notice."

"If I have to quit, I'll quit." I clamped the phone to my shoulder and stuffed a pair of gloves and some granola bars into the pack.

"Fuck, don't do that!"

"I haven't taken sick days in a year. More. Haven't needed them." A sudden wave of nausea hit me as I remembered my horribly burned hands from last summer, and how that would've played out if Erin hadn't used her incredible healing talent. I cleared my throat. "I need them now. I'll keep in touch."

"I'll try to make it right by the chief, but hell, yeah, you keep me in the loop. Just what kind of trouble is Alan in? Can I help?"

"Don't think so. Hopefully not a big deal."

"Riiiight." Chris paused, letting me recognize how my panic and threat to quit didn't mesh with not a big deal. But he just added, "Let me know. Or any of us. Don't forget you have family if you need us. And give Alan my best wishes."

"Thanks, I'll tell him." I ended the call and hesitated a moment over could my phone be bugged or traced? before deciding it was too useful to leave behind. A good lawyer will sort this out, right? I pocketed the phone, shouldered the pack, and locked the front door behind me. My trusty pickup waited under the carport.

The drive to Erin's took ten minutes. When I arrived, I stuck my phone in the glove box but hauled out my pack. Dale stood looking out the front window of their small house and they opened the door before I knocked. "Come on in. What's happening?"

"Is Erin back yet?"

"No. Any time, though."

I glanced around the tidy living room of the house they shared with Sylvester. "Is this place secure?"

"Secure how?"

"From listening devices. Or spells, I guess? Any way someone might spy on us."

Dale shook their head. "I have no clue. It's never come up. There are protections, of course, in Erin's house wards, but I don't know if they'd stop someone from listening. She mainly wanted to keep?—"

"Me in." Sylvester strolled into the room. "And I guess trouble out. Smart girl, Erin. I helped build her wards, back before… before… I think they're good wards."

"They're very good," Dale told him. "But blocking sound is a pretty specialized requirement."

"I could've done it. I was good at problems. Now sometimes my hands are wobbly, so I don't cast spells very often." Sylvester raised both arms in front of him. His fingers didn't tremble, but the suppressor cuff that blocked his magic sat above one bony wrist. He blinked down at the gleaming metal as if surprised to see it there, then lowered his hands and tugged his shirt sleeve down over the cuff.

"I'm afraid wards aren't my strong point," Dale began, then turned their head. "Oh, there's the garage door. Erin must be home."

Erin came inside in scrubs, rubbing her eyes. "Was that Jason's truck— Oh, hey Jase, what's up?"

"NSEP grabbed Alan," Dale said before I could.

Erin jolted, a lock of her dark hair falling across her face. "They what?"

"Stopped him along the side of the road when he was out jogging at six-thirty this morning," I told her. "Pulled over in two cars, at least five guys, guns out, put a suppressor cuff on Alan. I only know because Sunny came and got me, and I made it to the road before they took Alan away."

"Fuck!" She brushed her errant hair back. "Okay, I need all the details. Where's Sunny?"

"Is this house secure?" I asked. "I don't trust those motherfuckers not to be listening."

"Let's head into the back garden," she suggested. "I have lots of protections against being overheard out there."

"Right." I remembered that now. She'd wanted Sylvester to have a place to get out of the house without having to guard his increasingly forgetful words.

A couple of minutes later, we assembled around the patio table. Erin leaned forward and gestured impatiently at me. "Right, what the hell did National Sorcery Enforcement and Protection want with Alan? Where's Sunny?"

I took them through Alan's arrest as clearly as I could. No one interrupted me, although Dale sucked in their breath a couple of times. "…and I'm pretty sure Sunny transported himself into the trunk of the second car, so we have some hope of finding out where they took Alan. Then I grabbed some useful stuff—" I gestured toward the house where I'd left my pack. "—and headed here. I don't know what to do next."

Erin chewed on her lower lip. "Me neither. It sounds like that was the human side of NSEP, which means a hell of a lot more enforcement than protection. The human side comes under the Homeland Security umbrella, although they're a law unto themselves. Even to the sorcerer side of NSEP, though, Alan's unregistered, which makes him a problem."

"There are two sides?" I asked.

"Yeah. NSEP was created during the Upheavals of the nineties. It has two arms, one human, one magical. In theory, both are supposed to restrain bad sorcerers and protect good ones. In practice, the humans under the umbrella of Homeland Security have always considered themselves an enforcement agency."

"So can we appeal to the NSEP sorcerers? Like, if Alan agrees to register? He's never done anything wrong. Then they'd protect him, get him cut loose?"

Erin shook her head before I'd finished speaking. "I don't trust them?—"

"Never trust those fuckers," Sylvester broke in. "Never, never, ever. In bed with the human cops, traitors, Benedict Arnolds. Not once on the side of honest sorcerers."

"That's not entirely true," Erin said. "For Healers like me, for familiars, sorcerer NSEP stands between us and the humans finding out who we are and what we can do. There are big, big secrets they don't share with the human side. But they're all about the big picture. If there's a threat to the community and the Great Spell, or to any of those secrets we're hiding, they'd sacrifice a single sorcerer in a heartbeat."

"Why would the human NSEP arrest Alan, though?" Dale asked. "He hasn't done any big working since last summer. He's still working on controlling his magic. There are a lot of other sorcerers doing more complex spells all the time. Why aren't they arresting them?"

"Maybe they are." Erin got out her phone, tapped over to speaker, and dialed. "Hey, sir, you said to call if we needed help."

"Don't call me sir." I recognized the dry, precise tones of Jasper Jones, the Jasper Jones, apparently, ninety-year-old sorcerer and architect of the hidden history of the Upheavals. "What's wrong?" He sounded pretty alert, and I realized it was already nine a.m. in Illinois, which made me feel less guilty about disturbing him.

Erin said, "NSEP arrested Alan Hiranchai."

"What? For being unregistered?"

"They apparently didn't give a reason, but it was a dawn raid by the DHS-associated human goons, and they waved a lot of guns around, took him away with a suppressor cuff slapped on him."

"Damn. That's not how registration enforcement usually works. Where did they take him?"

"They wouldn't say," I told him. "They said I should call the head office and ask."

"Ah, Jason. Did you call?"

"Not yet." I didn't want to admit my fear of not getting an answer. As long as I hadn't tried and been shut down, there was still the possibility they might actually be on the level.

"Get a lawyer. One versed in the magic-related federal codes. Have him put in the request in an official capacity. You're not married to Alan, right?"

"No." I was regretting the hell out of that today, but we'd still been slowly building our relationship. Marriage was a maybe, on the horizon.

"Then they can just ignore you. Get him a lawyer."

Erin asked, "Can you recommend someone good?"

"Let me ask my contacts in your state. Will you inform Silas and Darien, or shall I? They might have ideas."

"If you wouldn't mind," Erin said, her eyes a little wide. I figured she was intimidated by Silas Thornwood and Darien Green, the heroes of the Upheavals and still, in their sunset years, legends in the magic community. Asking them for favors did seem like a lot of nerve, even though Darien had told Alan and me, "Jasper will know how to find us if you ever need us again," the one time I saw him.

Jasper said, "I'll text you some recommendations."

A higher voice asked, "How's Sunny doing?"

Erin replied, "We're not sure, Professor. He chased after Alan," making me realize that voice was Jasper's raccoon familiar and my life has become so fucking weird since I met Alan. And yet, I wouldn't change one single thing. Well, today. I'd happily change today.

"Sunny's quite old and very skillful," the Professor noted. "I am sure he'll be fine."

Jasper added, "If he can keep track of Alan's whereabouts, that's something in our favor. Back in the bad old days, sorcerers disappeared into the human NSEP and sometimes they vanished."

"That's one of the reasons I called you," Erin told him. "We have no clue why they came after Alan. Why him and why now? He's been doing small practice spells, working on controlling his power as it revives after he almost burned himself out. But he hasn't done anything big or public since the fire last summer. Have you heard about anyone else getting arrested recently?"

"Nothing that hit my radar, but I've never been tuned in to the community the way Darien was. I'll ask him. It could be political, too. Every now and then, some human politician decides sorcerers are a good distraction from whatever grift or sleaze he's been up to and waves the scary-magic flag, sends out the thugs to round up a couple of folks, to look like he's tough."

I didn't follow politics like I should, but my older sister Sarah did. She said when you had a teen daughter, keeping up with the bills and laws was a necessity. I could ask her, just casually, if anyone had been emphasizing sorcerers lately. Casually, because while I was out to my family as gay, Alan was most definitely not out as a sorcerer.

Dale asked, "What happened to the sorcerers who used to disappear?"

Jasper's voice took on a harsh note. "No one knows. That's what disappeared means, kid." He sighed. "Sorry. One of them was a close friend. Thirty years. It's possible they're still out there, locked away somewhere hidden from scrying and seeking spells, but a better bet is they're dead. In the nineties, we truth-spelled a bunch of humans, trying to find our missing people, but we never got a relevant answer. It was a tightly held secret, even then. Hopefully, Alan's just arrested."

Dale chewed on a corner of their thumbnail, their eyes glassy.

I'm fucking worried, too. I took slow, controlled breaths.

The Professor said, "You might contact the sorcerer side of NSEP. I wonder if the right hand knows what the left hand is doing."

Erin asked, "Do you have a contact there?"

Jasper suggested, "Waidner used to oversee the NSEP invisibility program. Although he might be retired." The old sorcerer coughed. "When I go looking for my colleagues, I'm reminded that time has not stood still for any of us."

"You're not that old," the Professor insisted.

Jasper snorted. "I'll text you Waidner's contact. If it's still good, even if he's not in charge anymore, he'll know who is. Erin will have a solid reason to get in touch, since the humans snatching Alan could endanger her. I'll send you info as soon as possible." The line went dead.

I asked Erin, "Invisibility program?" at the same time as Dale said, "Why would Alan endanger you?"

She glanced between us. "The invisibility program is the one that protects Healers and familiars from human detection, an offshoot of NSEP that the human side doesn't know about. And Alan could be a danger if, well, if they make him reveal any other unregistered sorcerers he knows. You and I come high on the list, kiddo."

"Alan wouldn't tell them…" Dale's voice trailed off and their jaw dropped. "You don't mean they'd force him to talk?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," I blurted, battling nausea at the idea of someone pressuring Alan to betray his friends. I didn't want that thought haunting Dale. They'd turned eighteen but the young Healer was still a very softhearted kid. "So far, all we know is he's been arrested. Maybe it's still as simple as a misunderstanding, some other sorcerer they've confused with Alan."

Dale relaxed a little, muttering, "Right, okay, let's hope."

Erin caught my eye. I gave her the barest twitch of my head no .

She pushed to her feet, rubbing her bare arms. "I'm going to change and make some breakfast while we wait for those contacts. And coffee. I don't know about you lot, but I have a feeling I'm going to need a boatload of caffeine."

Sylvester leaped to his feet. "Yes! For a rescue, we need energy. The power of the bean. And sausages." He hurried into the house.

Dale glanced at me. "I'm not sure I can eat."

Me neither. But I was the grown man who knew how the world worked, so I said, "We should go fuel up, kid. I have a feeling it's going to be a hell of a long day."