Precinct 13 (26 page)

The spiders were like some kind of booby trap, too, weren’t they? Jack and Jones couldn’t even enter his apartment; they said it was so strongly anti-naturally warded. Wards were like a protection, too, right?

Why did the necromancer need all these security measures?

All these defenses seemed less like the actions of a man on the verge of becoming something greater than those of one under siege.

So who was he protecting himself from?

Were we looking at murder, after all? Was someone trying to stop the necromancer from gaining his goal?

Which was…?

The Tinker Bell thing?

If so, the sister certainly seemed to think he was pretty stupid. She seemed to want something else entirely, but what, exactly?

And how was Jones involved?

I started thinking out loud, because I wanted Valentine’s take on all of it. “The zombie talked to me when he was dead…Well, his mouth was sewn shut so I thought he’d said, ‘
He
hates Spenser,’ but I wonder if the zombie meant, ‘
She
hates Spenser.’ ”

“There’s a lot to hate,” Valentine agreed, heading for the kitchen with the last of the silverware.

This time I followed, pulling my robe tighter around my waist as I got up. “I suppose. I mostly find him cantankerous. I’m not sure he always treats Devon fairly, and he has some serious mommy issues. But the sister seemed very stung by someone who
hates
unnatural magic.”

Valentine opened the freezer and pulled out a quart of ice cream. “You think it’s Spenser?”

Was it? After all, what was it that everyone around Jones continually fought about? Natural versus unnatural. Stone desperately wanted to be natural. Devon revelled in being unnatural, mostly, I began to think, just to poke at Jones.

Heck, I’d felt the sting of his disapproval myself.

I pulled bowls from the cabinet while he got out the syrup and a can of whipped cream. “He seemed particularly irritable at the funeral home, didn’t he?”

“I assumed that was because I was there,” Valentine said, scooping out a large spoonful for himself. “And because you kicked magical ass.”

I laughed slightly at that. I dug out my own helping and
added lots of toppings. “Well, that’s the most obvious option,” I agreed, taking a bite. I savored the chocolate before continuing. “You’d think he’d have mentioned a connection to the necromancer’s sister before this.”

Valentine said, “Perhaps he didn’t know they were related.”

“I like that better than my own theory.”

“What’s that?”

“That he’s kept the information from us on purpose.”

“What purpose would he have?”

I didn’t know. This was where all my theorizing ground to a halt.

Valentine pulled the spoon from his mouth in a rather suggestive manner. “They’re lovers!”

“What?” I wagged my spoon at him. “Now who’s pretending?”

“He knew her name,” Valentine insisted mischievously.

“So?” I grimaced at him. Trust him to go to the basest possible option. “You said yourself that it made sense in a small town, in a tiny magical community. Anyway, they could just be friends.”

“That’s much less interesting,” Valentine insisted with a petulant pout. “My theory is more fun.”

“But it’s a really wild theory.”

“I still like it. Humans get very tangled over love and sex. They kill for it almost more than any other animal.”

I did remember that from my forensics class. Nine times out of ten, husbands killed wives or vice versa. Valentine had a good point. Sex was often the lowest common denominator. “This town isn’t that big,” I noted, playing along with his hypothesis. “The dating pool among magical people must be tiny.”

“Minuscule,” he said, taunting me with the way he used his tongue to lick the last bit of ice cream melt from his spoon.

I blushed, and tried to stay focused on the conversation. “Do you suppose it’s considered dirty to date someone from the ‘other side’?”

Valentine shrugged.

If it was, then the number of eligible partners dropped significantly—assuming that it mattered to you if you dated someone with superpowers like your own. I could easily picture Jones as that type, however. Most of my ice cream had melted into slush, but I tipped the bowl to my lips and drank it up.

“Is there a magical way to kill someone without leaving any physical trace?”

Valentine lifted his eyebrow. “Many. Humans are stunningly easy to kill, magically or otherwise.”

I ignored the shiver that crept up my spine at the ice in Valentine’s voice. “What about a way to neutralize someone’s magic without entirely killing them? Or,” I said, thinking about how hard it had been to go after my own family, even my evil stepmonster, “what about an accident? Could you put someone in a state of suspended animation with a botched attempt at magical murder?”

“I wouldn’t know. I rarely miss.”

A theory was percolating in my head, but I had no proof to confirm it yet. I put the bowl down. I wanted to get dressed quickly. “What if the necromancer’s sister was angry at her brother for stirring the pot with this whole fourth wall thing—especially since it made things worse between her and her lover?”

“Her
current
lover? Not ex?”

Of course, I didn’t know. This was all theory and conjecture. But, the fact remained, Jones knew the necromancer’s sister well enough to call her by name. Glamour or not, we had to find out what he knew.

“How quickly can you get me into the office?”

“If we fly, a matter of seconds.”

I dressed as fast as I could, throwing on jeans and a sweatshirt. The look was a little less than office casual, but I was in a hurry. We stood outside Robert’s house, and Valentine was studying my face. The sun had melted most of the remaining snow, and my Converse sneakers were thin protection against the wet and cold. “Are you sure you want me to do this?” he asked

At first, I didn’t understand his hesitation. But then I saw that expression in the worry lines between his brows. It was the same one he’d worn when he had been forced to transform in front of me the first time. “Are you embarrassed by what you are?” I asked. Before he could answer, I quickly added, “Don’t be. I think you’re beautiful.”

Though I noticed his face soften, he sniffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m worried about you. I’ll have to carry you.” He held his hands out to show me, and I tried not to picture the sharp talons, as clear and long as icicles, that they would become.

Oh.
I’d kind of hoped to ride on his back, like they always did in the movies.

He must have seen my wistful expression, but his hardened. “You would need a saddle. I will
never
wear reins.”

Right, of course.

I let out a long breath, and I tried to stay focused. “Jones
is with her right now. I don’t want him to do something stupid.”

“We don’t have to get involved,” he noted.

Actually, I did. Not only was it my job, but I was beginning to care about these people. What worried me more was busting into the precinct headquarters full of conjecture and accusations. I had no real proof, only a bunch of hunches and circumstances that fit a wild theory.

“I just want to be there,” I said, telling myself that I didn’t have to go in with guns blazing and pointing fingers. “If I’m wrong and Jones is hiding nothing, it will be a relief. Let’s just do it.”

“As you wish.” Valentine nodded, and ducked his head down toward his chest. Instantly, he began to transform. Clothes disappeared. White scales covered his skin as he began to expand. Arms and legs became haunches, while a tail sprouted and twitched itself into a long coil. Wings unfolded gracefully. His face narrowed and elongated, a proud snout filled with rows of dangerously sharp teeth. A spiky mane of ice rose from his head and snaked down his spine.

When he finished, he was nearly as tall as the house on all fours.

A cock of his head implied that I needed to make myself ready. Even so, I wasn’t quite able to keep the gasp from escaping when his claw reached for me. The padded paw that encircled me was softer and gentler than I expected. As the joints clasped together, I found I could sit against the curve of the fingers and hold on to knuckles. It felt as safe as an amusement park ride, which wasn’t saying much. Still, I trusted Valentine not to drop me.

His body tensed and was followed by the massive upswell
of air as he beat his powerful wings. We went up briefly. Then we went down, and I felt my stomach drop. I thought we were falling until he’d flap his wings again and we’d bob back upward. I had trouble enjoying the flight, because the whole experience was nauseatingly jerky.

The wind stung at my face, bringing tears to my eyes. I blinked them away to watch the houses moving below us. The Missouri glittered beautifully. If I could get used to the up and down motion, it would be lovely to travel this way.

But, I hardly had the opportunity. He was right; it took little time before the precinct house was below us. From above there was no illusion. I could see the courtyard clearly, as we began a gliding spiral downward.

A gang of magpies appeared in the air beside us. They darted around us—joyfully calling to each other, playing in the wind eddies caused by Valentine’s wings.

I closed my eyes as the ground came toward us. Skillful use of wings and muscles absorbed the impact. I felt ground beneath my feet. I stood on my own as the shape of Valentine’s hand changed. Soon I felt the more familiar sensation of his arm around my waist and his body behind me. The magpies continued to flit around him, almost protectively circling him, as if they had adopted this giant flying reptile as a member of their crew.

I ran to the courtyard door only to find it locked from the inside. Valentine stepped around me. He took the knob in his hand and gave it a simple twist. I heard the lock break. He pulled the door open with a slight bow, as if he was a gentleman opening it for a lady.

Which he was—most definitely, dragon or not.

I leaned over to give him a quick but passionate kiss on his lips. “I owe you.”

“Hardly,” he said, and with a smile he fell into step behind me. “Dramatic entrances are reward enough.”

Inside, I was surprised to find Jones was alone with the necromancer’s sister.

One of the vines that seemed to cover most surfaces in the room was wrapped around her, like manacles, surrounding her wrists and ankles. She wasn’t struggling. Her face was flushed with emotion, though with which one I couldn’t say.

Whatever Jones had been saying died in his throat. His mouth hung open as I walked in the door.

“I think there’s something you’re not telling us,” I said to him.

“Me?” Jones pointed to his chest, belligerently. “What the hell are you doing here, Connor? I told you to go home and rest.”

“Yeah, well, rest got me thinking,” I said. I hadn’t meant to be this belligerent about my theories, but Jones’s attitude irritated me. I wouldn’t be dismissed. So, I ignored Jones and looked at the necromancer’s sister. “Are you two dating?”

“I wouldn’t call it dating so much as sleeping together,” she said, with a dark glance at Jones.

“What?” Jones sounded genuinely startled. I thought my entire theory was going to go out the window until he said, “We broke it off months ago. What relevance does that have to this case?”

“Everything, possibly,” I said to him. To Brooklyn, I asked, “Why? Why did you break up?”

Her blue eyes narrowed. I thought that if she could have hurled a curse, she would have. Instead she said, “I think you know why.”

“Because you’re unnatural?”

She looked away, and I thought her body language
answered my question quite clearly. Jones, meanwhile, was getting angrier. He stepped forward threateningly. “You need to tell me what the hell is going on here.”

Valentine lifted his gaze just enough that Jones noticed.

Jones hesitated and lowered his voice a bit. “Let’s go into my office. If you have some accusations to make, I’d like to hear them. Privately.”

I could think of no reason not to grant his wish. “Sure,” I said. “We could go to your office.”

“Let me just get someone to guard Brooklyn,” Jones said. Skipping lightly up the flat, wide step/seats of the amphitheater, Jones stuck his head outside the door to talk to whoever was standing right there. Stone? Some other guard?

Reaching over, I gave Valentine’s hand a little squeeze.

He nodded, as if he understood my trepidation. “I’ll be with you,” he said. Then, he added, with a little self-congratulation, “I told you sex would be part of the equation.”

I snorted a small, fond laugh.

Together we walked up to where Jones held the door for us, his face nearly contorted with uncontrolled rage. I didn’t like the look in his eyes, as we stepped out into the hallway.

“Can you take a fairy?” I whispered to Valentine after we were a few steps in front of Jones.

“Easily,” Valentine assured me.

Everyone in the precinct hushed when Valentine and I followed Jones into the main room to his office. By the time he closed his door, you could have heard the proverbial pin drop.

Jones had a large oak desk. On it was an old-fashioned blotter filled with doodles and scraps of information, a few thick paper case files in battered manila folders, and a sleek laptop. There were two classic steel file cabinets against one wall and a bookcase full of old, leather-bound volumes. Some of the books even had binding that looked hand-stitched and tooled. A framed pen-and-ink illustration showed a fully armored knight leading a horse with two maiden riders, both looking behind them at an old woman’s face peering out from the forest trees. There was some kind of inscription below, but I didn’t have a chance to inspect it more closely.

Jones put the desk between us. He put his hands on the
back of his chair and gestured at the two seats, but no one sat down. Valentine found a darkened corner to settle into. Jones gave him a wary glance, and then focused his attention on me. “Explain yourself, Connor.”

“Okay,” I said, taking in a deep breath. “I don’t think you’re a bad guy necessarily.”