Connor frowned. “It rained two nights ago.”
“So it did,” Gwen said. “Washing away whatever evidence might have remained. So these crimes might be connected, by perpetrator or magic or both.”
“Dark magic,” I said, and they all looked at me with grim acceptance, and concern for whatever the consequences might be.
The silver ring of a bell echoed through the street, and we all glanced at each other.
“Did we all hear that?” I asked.
“We heard it,” Connor said, gaze narrowing on the shadowed trees in the park on the other side of the street. “It wasn’t magic. Maybe part of the ceremony. Maybe intended to scare us away.”
“Very high creep factor,” Gwen said.
“So what’s going on here?” Theo asked. “Some kind of sacrifice?”
“You kill someone in a salt circle with a silver dagger, it definitely seems ceremonial.”
“And what’s next? Vampire? Fairy? River nymph?” I looked at Theo. “We need to warn the Houses. Just in case.” My father was Master of Cadogan House, one of Chicago’s four vampire Houses. The man who’d stood as my uncle for most of my life was Master of another. I didn’t want to find any of them—or any of their people—like this.
He nodded. “Roger will get the word out.”
Gwen removed the gloves, pulled out her screen, did some swiping. “I’m going to call the forensics team, have them pull the dagger and get samples of everything else for the lab.” She looked around. “There’s a reason this was done here. No security or traffic cameras. Very few people.”
When she was done, she looked at Connor. “Legally, the Pack has no authority to participate in an investigation. But,” she added, holding up a hand when I opened my mouth to argue, “I’m also aware how valuable your contributions have been to the Ombuds and the CPD. So I’m willing to give you some latitude, as long as you don’t impede our investigation. Or break any laws.”
“I’m here to help the Pack, not impede the CPD or the Ombuds,” Connor said. “Obfuscating the truth isn’t going to help us find justice for Bryce.” He glanced at me. “And I have every reason to help.”
Gwen nodded. “That’s good enough for me. And if you cause trouble, I’ll sic the Ombuds on you.”
Connor’s smile was sly. “That’s no punishment, Detective.”
“Returning to business,” I said, before a flush could heat my cheeks, “we should check out the bar where he was last seen.”
“Why don’t you take him?” Theo asked, nodding toward Connor. “He might get more out of shifters, and I want to hit the magic angle with Petra.”
Connor nodded. “Fine by me.”
“Then we’ll let both of you know if we find anything,” I said.
Gwen nodded. “I know you will. Probably right after you feed your coffee addiction.”
I shifted my gaze to Theo. “Narc.”
His grin was wide, smooth. “Are you going to get coffee right now?”
Only if the universe was just.
2
The universe was just.
We found a drive-through Joe’s—my favorite Chicagoland coffee hookup—not far from the scene. I got a coffee, Connor went for the water, and we split a blueberry scone.
“They’re changing my opinion of scones,” he said, licking blueberry juice from his thumb as he drove, that small act sending a bolt of desire through me. “I used to think of them as the biscuit’s lesser British cousin.”
“That’s because you were born in Memphis. Southerners and biscuits have a very special relationship. These taste like butter and blueberries, which is a winning combination in any book.”
Chicago being what it was, we parked on the street two blocks away and hiked back to the bar through darkness.
