“But, sir, the constructs are built on witch magic, so probably not glamour, like Ms. Craft claims. I’ve been working this case and—”
“And now I’m working it.” Falin placed his hands on his sides. The movement caused his blazer to gape open, exposing the dark butt of his gun in his shoulder holster.
Blazer, gun, and holster were more glamour—unless he had some sort of dislocation spel —but the display stil oozed both authority and threat. “This case has drawn my attention, and the attention of her majesty. I want al your files on my desk by the time I reach the office.”
“Yes, sir,” Nori said, the muscle in her cheek bulging as she clenched her jaw. Then she stalked out of the house.
“Are you the boogeyman in the FIB?” I asked once the door shut behind Nori.
Falin flashed me a smile. “Try agent in charge.”
Right, good to know. Does that mean he’s behind the snatch-and-bag in the floodplain? No, he couldn’t have been. Nori had indicated he’d been out of the city. But maybe he could help me stop it. I waited until the last of the cops had left before asking.
Falin let out a long breath and leaned against the wal , as if standing straight for so long had taxed him. “It’s complicated.”
This wasn’t the first time I’d heard that tonight. I opened my mouth to ask for a clarification, but Caleb brushed past my mouth to ask for a clarification, but Caleb brushed past me.
“Don’t waste your breath, Al,” he said, and grabbed the mal et from where he’d dropped it earlier. “I’l be in my workshop if you need me.” Then he stormed into the garage. A trickle of magic sparked through the air as he activated his circle, and he said, “Oh, and Al, be careful what you say to her majesty’s bloody hands.”
Chapter 15
“What did he mean, ‘her majesty’s bloody hands’?”I asked once we were back in my apartment.
Falin didn’t answer, but stepped around me as he headed for the bathroom. He’d taken the steps slow, his hand moving to his side when he thought I wasn’t looking.
Somewhere along the way, his blazer vanished, and by the time he reached the bathroom door, glamour no longer cloaked his ragged and bloodstained clothing.
I leaned against the wal beside the door. A door he hadn’t closed. “Are you here doing your queen’s bidding?”
Again he didn’t answer. I pushed away from the wal and peeked around the open door. Falin stood with both hands braced on the sink’s counter, his head hanging heavy below his hunched shoulders. He looked up as I slipped inside and gave me a smal , tight smile that didn’t match the wince around his eyes.
“Joining me in the bathroom? This is a new level of intimacy for us.”
I didn’t take his bait. “Let me see it.”
“Mmm, and what is it you want to see?”
I frowned at him. “Stop playing around and let me see your side.”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he said, but it clearly cost him to push away from the counter and stand up straight.
“Let me see, or I’m going to dope you with a knockout charm and drag you to a healer.” It was an empty threat and he knew it, but he stil moved to unbutton his shirt.
“Fine, fine.” He shrugged out of the shirt, the movement
“Fine, fine.” He shrugged out of the shirt, the movement stiff.
While I’d been occupied downstairs he’d done a nice job of dressing the wound. I hated to disturb the careful y taped gauze, but blood had seeped through in several places, so it needed to be changed anyway.
I shuddered once I’d exposed the wound. “Shouldn’t you see a healer?”
“I’ve healed worse. It’s dawn and the magic is weak right now. Give me twenty minutes and I’l be much better,” he said, reaching for the sealed sterile gauze pads on the counter. They must have been from Hol y’s first-aid kit because they had official OMIH stamps on the top and I didn’t own charmed bandages.
I helped him dress his side again, and as I worked I had to admit he was healing. The edges of the wound were pink, and new skin had knitted across the long laceration in several places. If he could avoid reopening the wound, he would probably heal in a matter of days. Once the gauze was taped securely in place, I stood. “How’s the head?”
“Healed,” he said, and smiled at my disbelieving look before tilting his head forward so I could look. “Head wounds bleed a lot, but that one wasn’t deep.”