I didn’t have anything to say to that, so I stalled for a moment longer, letting the cool breeze ruffle my hair, before summoning up the gumption to go to work.
The policewoman’s eyes flicked up when I stopped in front of her. Her hard gaze took my full measure—what she could see from beyond the desk, anyway—pausing on my leather tank top. To her credit, she took my weird in stride without furrowing her brow or shaking her head. When she got to Darius, she only let slip a tiny moment of holy crap that guy is hot in the widening of her eyes and small smile before closing it down, resuming her hard, straight face. I was pret-ty impressed, I had to say.
“Hi, I’m Reagan Som—”
“Ms. Somerset. Hello.” A man with glossy black hair, slicked back on his head, hastened toward us from the side. When he reached me, he stuck out his hand. “I’m Detective Allen. You can call me Oscar.”
“Hi. I’m Reagan.” His shake was firm but didn’t last long. He glanced at Darius. “This is my…associate, Darius. He’ll be helping me.”
“Not likely,” Darius said, shaking Oscar’s hand before stepping back.
“He’s a real charmer.” I shrugged and threw up my hands comically. Apparently, despite what he’d said on the airplane, Darius would only be playing the completely unnecessary role of bodyguard. Whatever.
“Right, sure. Okay.” Oscar gestured back the way he’d come. “Please, come with me. I was coming out here to see if you were waiting for me. Good timing.”
The woman glanced after us for a moment, but went back to her work without comment.
“Just in here.” Oscar led us to a small office at the back of an open space littered with messy desks. In his mid-forties, he carried a little extra weight, the kind you’d expect from someone with a slower metabolism and a settled life. This guy wasn’t physically chasing magical people, that was certain.
“An office?” I asked, seeing him gesture toward a seat and choosing to stand instead. I hoped we’d be leaving soon.
“Yes. If you’ll have a seat, I have the pictures right here.” He picked up a folder from his desk.
“Pictures?” I stepped forward and put out my hand. He handed over the file. “What about the scene of the most recent crime? There have been two, correct?”
“Two, yes. With the recent one, the body was found in a dumpster in the Seattle port. We processed the evidence already. We’ve noted everything of value.”
“How long ago did the recent crime happen?”
“About a week ago now.”
I sighed. Even if I saw an actual crime scene instead of a body dump, there was no way I’d feel even earth-shaking magic a week later. Still, maybe I would find something the others missed.
I opened the file and immediately felt my brow furrow. Beyond the fact that it was disgusting, the picture didn’t mean anything to me. The next one was the same. It was the third one that I pushed away from my face. “Gross.”
Darius stepped forward to look.
I checked out the rest quickly before closing the file and handing it back. “You know what I do, right?”
Oscar hesitated, like I was asking a trick question. “We have an office here with a field of expertise similar to the one you’re associated with in NOLA,” he said slowly.
I shut his door, having to maneuver around Darius to do it.
“Magic,” I said bluntly. A wary smile curved Oscar’s lip. Like most humans “in the know,” his logical mind clearly tried to pass my talents off as a joke so it didn’t seem so utterly outlandish. “I suss out magic. To do that, I need to see the most recent body, where the body was dumped, and where the crime might’ve originally happened. Otherwise, there is no point in my being here.”
Oscar studied me for a moment before looking at Darius. “Is she always this pushy?”
“Questions such as those will likely insult her, and then she’ll assuredly hurt you in some way,” Darius said in a bored voice. “But by all means, waste our time. It will benefit me.”
He was, of course, referring to the promise I’d given him regarding my blood. “So that’s why you won’t actually help me, is it?” I asked.
“Yes. Next, he might ask if you are always this dim. I am starting to wonder myself.”
I took a deep breath and let it out noisily before hooking a thumb at Darius and directing my focus to Oscar. “He’s right about one thing. I feel a surge of violence coming on. Let’s get this done, or I’m going home now. Time’s a tickin’, man. I need to solve this quick-like.”
With a dark chuckle, Oscar came around the desk. “Have it your way, but I saw the way you looked at those pictures. The real thing is much worse.”
“And I will tell you that I’ve seen worse still, believe me. Usually it’s the smell that gets you. That doesn’t make this any less gross, though.”
A short car ride later, we arrived at a nondescript building without so much as a number indicating its address. Cameras pointed down at us as Oscar unlocked the door. No receptionist sat at this desk. He led us down a hall and to a back room, watched by various cameras the whole time, then unlocked the door and flicked on the lights.
I half expected a bare bulb swinging over a dirty, cracked concrete floor, and while the reality wasn’t much better, it was certainly cleaner. Harsh white light rained down on a viewing table in a sea of beige. Just one table dominated the three-hundred-square-foot space, with a few folding chairs positioned around the sides. On top of the table was a pile of ew.
“Cozy,” I said, walking up to the table. “So yeah, skin taken off. No bones broken in the process?”
Oscar leaned against the wall by the door. “No. His face was left alone. His expression, as you can see, was one of intense pain, but he didn’t have any abrasions that would suggest he’d been tied down or forced to endure the torture in any way. The skin has been put to rights in the next room.”
“Gross,” I muttered. That seemed to be the word du jour. I didn’t feel any residual magic, not that I would after so long.
I put my hands to my hips and turned away, biting my lip in thought, running through all the great many spells stored in my brain. I couldn’t do any of them, or, at least, hadn’t tried, but I’d either read about them or seen them in action. I could usually match a spell to the effects of said spell.
Usually.
“A freezing spell wouldn’t allow the mage to access the whole body.” I looked at Darius, since he collected magic for his faction of vampires, which meant he knew about freezing spells, too. “They could just do sections, I suppose. Maybe freeze his upper body and one leg while working on the other…but what would happen when they took the spell away to reapply?”