Saturday Shorts: The Prince Detective

So I decided to write something a little more serious for my new submission. It didn't win but I was happy with the fort and it gave me an idea for a short story to play with. Here is the submission.


Enraged, he kicked the door open. Weapon raised, he stepped onto the roof, blinking through the howling rainstorm.
A few floors below, seven members of his team were searching. Alone on the roof, he felt suddenly vulnerable.
"Damn, should have waited for Bambino.”
He was angry with himself. Head of the NYPD protective detail and he'd failed. His heart ached as he thought of her, pale, lying on the floor of the safe house apartment. He shook the image from his mind.
How could he have been stupid enough to fall for a disguise?
Who would have suspected Mayor Queen? A witch? It just didn’t seem possible.
Despite his incredulity, Blanca Nieves, his charge - and the Mayor's rival in the coming election - lay dead or dying.
Spotting movement, Detective Prince shifted aim, his heart thundering.
Leaning against an air handler, he peered around the edge. Fifteen feet away, Eleanor Hexen-Queen, New York City's mayor, prepared to rappel down the side of the building and escape. Prince may have failed to protect Nieves, but he could still bring the mayor to justice.
Prince leapt from cover.
The mayor looked up and stood slowly, an evil smile spreading across her face. "What do we have here?" She dropped the climbing gear and drew a long ceremonial knife from behind her. Detective Prince saw the flash of the weapon in the fleeting light and darted forward.
Cackling, she waved the glistening blade back and forth like a wand. There was something disturbingly malevolent about her preternaturally fluid movement.
Prince could hear her murmuring under her breath, chanting something.
He felt his skin prickle.
"Drop the blade and step away from the edge, your Honor."
Queen laughed harder.
Lightning flashed overhead and in the stark light he could see her smile. It was otherworldly, evil. A dark power emanated from her. Fear wasn't unusual in his line of work - on the contrary, it was the norm. But what he felt right at that moment was akin to terror.
"Not gonna say it again."
Queen stopped her chanting, her violet eyes piercing him.
"You’re lost in my forest, child - here you die."
As she started chanting again in that strange murmur, Prince felt the air crackle, rippling with electricity. The sky above seemed to crack, bolts of lightning weaving in and out of view like jagged serpents.
"Afraid, Detective?" She asked, hands weaving back and forth. "You should be."
Prince’s arms felt heavy. His aim faltered and in that instant the witch struck.
Lightning exploded into the air handler Prince had taken shelter behind moments earlier - the blast knocking him off his feet, his muscles convulsing and unresponsive as electrical energy fired through his body.
Screaming with maniacal delight, she charged him, the blade - that sinister ceremonial blade - held high. Detective Prince struggled to aim his weapon.
The lightning descended in a glorious rain of electricity.
He screamed in pain and squeezed the trigger.