It was probably a damned good thing I had gone into shock, because I could feel emotions that were stirring somewhere deep inside me, gathering power like a storm far out to sea. I couldn’t see them. I could only feel their effects, but it was enough to know that whatever was rising inside me was potent. Violent. Dangerous. Mindless rage got people killed every day. But for me, it might be worse.

I’m a professional wizard.

I can make a lot more things happen than most people.

Magic and emotions are tied up inextricably. I’ve been in battle before, and felt the terror and rage of that kind of place, where it’s a fight just to think clearly through the simplest problems. I’d used my magic in those kinds of volatile circumstances—and a few times, I’d seen it run wild as a result. When most people lose control of their anger, someone gets hurt. Maybe someone even gets killed. When it happens to a wizard, insurance companies go broke and there’s reconstruction afterward.

What was stirring in me now made those previous feelings of battle rage seem like anemic kittens.

“I’ve got to talk to someone,” I heard myself say quietly. “Someone with some objectivity, perspective. I’ve got to get my head straight before things go to hell.”

Mac leaned on the bar and looked at me.

I cradled the glass in my hand and said quietly, “You remember Susan Rodriguez?”

He nodded.

“She says that someone took our daughter. She says she’ll be here late tonight.”

Mac inhaled and exhaled slowly. Then he picked up the bottle and poured himself a shot. He sipped at it.

“I loved her,” I said. “Maybe love her still. And she didn’t tell me.”

He nodded.

“She could be lying.”

He grunted.

“I’ve been used before. And I’m a sucker for a girl.”

“Yes,” he said.

I gave him an even look. He smiled slightly.