“One filter coffee, black with one sugar, and one salad” the girl with purple hair smiled politely while she passed the drink across.

“Thank you,” Lennie paused just long enough to make it seem like he was reading her name off a badge “... Chloe.”

“No problem, have a nice day!”

“You too, darlin’.”

Lennie set himself up under one of the outdoor chairs and scrolled absently through his phone, not thinking about whatever joke was making the rounds today. He had his suspicions before, but he was sure about it now. Lennie couldn’t smell magic, smell wasn’t the right sense, but it was something similar to smell, and the faint prickly-bright not-smell of magic was radiating, however softly, off the girl

He’d first noticed it just over a week ago. The same coffee shop, about the same time. It had been feeble, but the next day it was still there, noticeably so. Lennie was intrigued. He’d started coming back more often, twice a day sometimes. The sense wasn’t there in the early morning, so it had to be someone on afternoon or evening shift. The last four days had been Lennie trying to narrow it down, between the three women who were on both. Lennie was almost certain it wasn’t the fourth person, an Asian man with a man-bun, but he was sure now. Six unpleasant filter coffees later, the sense was definite, ever so slightly stronger off her. She was using magic, in some capacity.

But how? Lennie didn’t see any metal on her, nothing that could be used for casting, at least. No rings, studs rather than hoops, no necklace. She must have been leaving all her paraphernalia at her own home rather than bringing it around with her, probably trying to stay low, escape the sort of attention that Lennie was paying to her.

Lennie set down his phone and drank his coffee. Lennie wasn’t a coffee drinker, not even back in his day, it was too bitter. But 50p was 50p, and the sugar certainly made it drinkable. The outdoor seating area wasn’t too crowded, the kids were at school and most everyone else was at work. A couple of old ladies seemed to be celebrating their vaccinations over blueberry muffins, Lennie could make out snippets of conversation about someone called Julie, and her proficiency with photo editing. A man and a woman, both in suits, were having breakfast, the man didn’t seem to notice a chocolate smudge on his chin, and the woman pretended not to either.

Chloe was dealing with another customer, a rail-thin goth looking kid with a My Chemical Romance facemask hanging off one ear, who seemed to be more interested in telling her their life story than ordering a coffee. The bravado of a teenager with a crush. Lennie could sort of see where they were coming from, the two of them were both tall, both thin, and they both had weird hair, though Chloe’s washed-out purple tinge and the kid’s bright green shock were miles apart. Chloe seemed to be handling it well enough, and the old women, seemingly done sharing stories about Julie, were packing up to leave.

Lennie was a good tracker. Teen years filled with elk and bison in the midwest made him quiet, perceptive. Hiding in a crowd was a different skill, but as he kept his vision locked on the girl, Lennie couldn’t help but feel just a tiny pang of nostalgia.

Chloe had left work at almost exactly the time her shift finished, seven in the evening. Inconvenient for Lennie, who had found that most people tended to run about five minutes late, and had set his intercept time with the coffee shop to match. He’d found her without too much trouble, there had been a few coats on a hook in the back room of the coffee shop, the door left ajar, and a tall woman in a thick navy blue coat wasn’t the most difficult of people to scan a crowd for.

Lennie followed at varying distances through the town centre, hanging back as much as he could, keeping her on the edge of his sight. Women these days had grown up with horror stories of dark streets and dangerous men, and following her trail would spook Chloe. That was a good thing, he supposed, kept innocent folk safe, even if it did make his job a slight harder. He could manage this, so long as she was in the centre and there were people around, his job was far more manageable. People made people feel safe, in a crowd of thousands you might well have been immortal.

It was in the streets that things started to get dicey. Thousands dropped to tens pretty damn fast, and the prey instinct kicked in. Lennie had to watch which streets he walked on, and more than once had to let her out of his sight completely, hoping she wouldn’t take any turns down alleys in the meantime. Lennie was good, but he wasn’t superhuman.

Ten long minutes, he spent skirting the edge of her proximity, almost but never quite certain he was in the clear. But on an unlit corner, where there were fewer than five people between them, Chloe got out her phone and started to text someone.

Shit.

Lennie immediately got off the street, into an alley and out of her sight, but it was too late. She called someone, and about thirty seconds later, crossed the road and disappeared into the mess of side-roads that connected London.

With maybe three moments to collect his thoughts, Lennie looked around. The alley was indistinct, two bins piled high with shiny black bags; naked brickwork with colourful graffiti, bright in the evening sun. He hadn’t taken note of the buildings he was squeezed between, but there was a backdoor with a sign for ‘Georgie’s Marvelous Slots’ hanging tiredly on. It was also one storey high.

Going on the rooftops would end any chance Lennie had of appearing like a normal person, but at the moment it was his best bet to find the girl again. He gently raised himself onto the sturdier of the two bins, a green recycling one that was being used as overflow for the rubbish, and clambered up onto the roof.

From his small vantage point, Lennie could see far. A nightclub was abandoned, had been since last march, and a small band of men in puffer jackets and hoodies were smoking nearby. Chloe, however, was gone.

Lennie hadn’t wanted to call Sid without proof, but this was what he’d call extenuating circumstances. He got his smartphone out and typed out a phone number from memory. Cassidy was quick to answer.

“Fiona Simmons, Simmons Glazing, how can I help?” a voice that could only be described as chipper addressed him.

“Blue Sky” Lennie could nearly feel the change in persona from her when he spoke.

“Lime lime” her voice had dropped slightly, into her natural tone, with just the slightest touch of an accent, only audible to someone who was listening for it.

“Funny.”

“I try. What do you need?”

“I found one.”

“One what?”

“An active magic user, first name Chloe, about six foot with purple hair, works at-”

“Don't,” she interrupted him, “we’re still on public networks”

“Right, yeah.”

“Put her on, I want to talk to this Chloe.”

“She’s not with me, I tailed her, but she gave me the slip, if I try and catch her again it’ll fuck up any chances of talking to her.” There was a pause in the air, as Sid considered things.

“How do you know she’s one of us? Is this another one of Jean’s?

“Not Jean, this one’s new. Nobody I know knows about her”

“A newcomer then. Did she demonstrate? Shit, did civilians see? RWHS?”

“No, she didn’t, it’s safe, don’t worry.”

“Then how do you know?”

Lennie swore silently, squeezing his eyes closed and rubbing his forehead with his free hand. This was where things got unappetising.

“I… sensed it.” Another pause, less for planning and more for Sid to consider hanging up

“You’re calling me over a fucking smell?”

“Sense, and-”

“Sense, smell, it doesn’t matter, I can’t take strays off you on a whim. You remember the last time that happened.”

“Don’t.” Lennie hissed, “Don’t blame that on me. You know that wasn’t my fault”

“I know that three people would still be alive if you hadn’t.” the way Sid said it was casual, flippant almost, Lennie always hated that talent of hers

Lennie relaxed his free hand, he didn’t realise it had balled into a fist.

“We’re getting off-topic.” Lennie would love nothing more than argue blame with Sid, he’d probably have won too, but there were bigger issues. “The point is, if I found her, the RWHS aren’t far behind.” That part was a lie, he’d chanced on Chloe through blind luck, if she had evaded Sid, Jean and Fatima, she could hide for years.. “Either she ends up with you, or you risk Callahan getting her.”

“Callahan would only kill her”

“Would she? The girl is barely out of university, chances are she doesn’t know anything about the wider world. She’s impressionable, Callahan knows how to take advantage of impressionable people.”

Another pause.

“Fine” Sid was not happy, but she had relented, “you have my card?”

“I do”

“You remember how to use it?”

“I literally can’t forget”

“Funny.”

“I try.”

“Find her, I’ll tell Addie to look out for a call” the click of the phone marked her exit.

Lennie surveyed the area again, the sun was close to touching the horizon, and one of the men in puffer jackets was pointing at him, Lennie couldn’t make out the joke he made but it must have been funny, given their response.

Lennie considered his options. He had a few; wait a few more days and try and talk to her at work or follow her home again. No, and no, those would take too long, Lennie wanted things sorted tonight. He had one more option, someone who owed him a favour, but it would mean playing a card he’d held in reserve for a while now.

Lennie dropped back onto street level, sending a slight shock up ancient knees, but he could walk it off. He started towards the sunset, he had a favour that needed calling in.