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weren’t
many tourists, from what I could tell. Locals act differently than visitors.
Tourists don’t walk with practiced certainty, and they look at signs and
landmarks a lot. But these people all looked like locals heading to familiar
places and doing familiar things. I did my best to act the same way.
    The
people here were happy and in no particular rush. It was a lot different than
New York City. It was nice, actually. Pretending to be a resident of this cozy
little town was fun.
    Then
I felt the presence of another nightcrafter.
    It
was a jolting feeling. Hard to describe, but almost like floating in a tranquil
sea and then being hit by a crashing wave that came out of nowhere. Honestly,
I’d been hoping that I wouldn’t find anybody on this trip. Now I’d actually
have to do some work.
    “Got
a hit,” I said, quietly.
    “Where?”
Newton said.
    “Not
sure yet. I’m going to feel him out.”
    “Sensors
aren’t picking up anything,” Newton said.
    “Not
surprising,” I said. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
    I
walked in the direction of the waves of Rift power coming at me. I held back
from casting any magic myself and just passively let the signs come to me. I
strolled around somewhat aimlessly, just letting instinct and intuition guide
me. Newton followed me dutifully, but not so close as to make it obvious that
he was on my tail. This went on for fifteen minutes before I found my prey
standing outside a short brick building.
    He
was a wide man with freckles and bulging biceps that could be seen even through
his sweater. He had a smarmy face, a cobra tattoo on his neck, and he was making
big waves in the Rift. It was like he was the center of a swirling whirlpool
drawing everything towards him whether it wanted to come along or not. He was
talking to a slender young woman who appeared completely oblivious to the spell
he was working on her.
    “That
guy,” I said. “The redhead talking to the brunette.”
    “Him?”
Newton said. “Really? He looks like a bartender, not a wizard.”
    “Nightcrafters
come in all shapes and sizes.”
    “Are
you sure?” Newton asked.
    “I
am sure.”
    “How?”
    “Just
trust me on this,” I told him. I kept my eye on the nightcrafter while I
examined his surroundings a little more. Then I realized he was standing in
front of a small bar. Maybe he actually was a bartender.
    Through
the Rift I could feel him drawing the power of the darkness to himself. He was
making no efforts at moderation, even though the spell he was casting didn’t
require anywhere near that much power. It only took me a couple of seconds to
realize what he was doing, and I immediately disliked this dude.
    Newton’s
voice, a near whisper, said, “So is the bartender using magic right now?”
    “Yes.
He’s using it on the girl he’s talking to.”
    “Hypnosis?”
Newton asked.
    “No,
something else. He’s using the darkness in her underwear to . . . uh . . .
stimulate certain things.”
    Newton
made a gagging sound. “That is gross and creepy.”
    “Agreed,”
I said. “But it seems to have worked. Looks like they’re exchanging phone
numbers.”
    “Great,”
Newton said, his voice registering sudden excitement. “See if you can get a
good angle on her phone. I might be able to see this guy’s number. Then we can
identify him much faster.”
    I
moved to my left a little bit and tilted my head down to let the hat-cam get a
good straight shot. “How’s the low light capture on this camera?”
    “Best
in the world,” Newton said, “and it has a very good optical zoom. I’m looking
at our bartender’s phone number right now.”
    Once
the exchange was complete, our target’s lady friend sashayed away. But Mr.
Bartender stayed, just hanging around and not doing anything in particular.
Then I felt another presence.
    “Interesting,”
Newton said. “Is he waiting for something?”
    “Or
someone,” I said. “There’s another nightcrafter