“I just know that you’re already excellent work backup,” I answered Considine, distracted.
“Oh,” Considine said. “Well, I am. Although if that’s why you do it, you should probably start quizzing me on how much force we can use when subduing supernaturals precisely because Iamfantastic backup.”
“That sounded very threatening to our future perps.” I watched the fae continue down the sidewalk.
“What is it you said to me about that mysterious paper you must write? Don’t worry about it,” Considine said.
When the fae turned up a different street, I exhaled and stepped back from Considine.
He slowly slid his hands off my waist, taking the time to straighten a pouch hanging off my belt for me. “Alas, our moment is over too soon,” he said. Although he had on a playful smile, there was something serious in his eyes.
I took a breath and tried to channel the calmness I needed for work. “It was a cover.”
“For you, maybe,” Considine chuckled—a noise that curled around me like a cat rubbing against my shins.
I cannot be unprofessional. I cannot be unprofessional!
I flinched when Orrin took a noisy sip of his tea that lasted so long both Considine and I turned to look at him.
Orrin stared back at us. “I’m out of tea.”
Considine rolled his eyes, then went back to peering at House Tellier. “Well, that was educational. I thought the Tellier wizardswere so unlikable they were universally hated. Apparently, they have a fae friend.”
“I’ve seen them interacting with a couple of supernaturals around Magiford,” I said.
Weeks ago I’d seen a Tellier wizard meet up with a werewolf in the parking lot of Queen’s Court café before driving off, and even farther back I’d witnessed a vampire hop into the van driven by a House Tellier wizard.
“Like attracts like?” Considine suggested. “If House Tellier fell so low as to jeopardize humans, what’s to keep them from teaming up with the lowlifes of other supernaturals?”
“Supernaturals don’t team up,” Orrin said. He glanced at us, and his forehead wrinkled. “Well, outside the department.”
“You’re not wrong,” Considine said. “Supernaturals tend to be most concerned with their own race’s well-being. But if there’s a profit to be had, that rule is ignored—like fae selling potions.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Maybe they’re selling their services as wizards. They’re desperate enough that it’s an option.”
Before we could ponder the situation farther, our radios crackled.
“Team Blood. We’ve received reports of two women in your patrol area, one in a green coat and the other in a gray coat, who are disturbing the peace by loudly shouting.”
Considine picked up his radio. “So?”
“They’ve been shouting that they’re wizards.”
I pressed the necessary buttons on my radio. “Understood. Can you give us the street location?”
A short jog later and we closed in on the area. I started to pull my hair stick from my belt in preparation, when I heard a singsong voice warble through the silence of the street.
About a block up, I saw two humanoid shapes—humanoid, because they were wearing such thick, puffy parkas I couldn’thave made a decent sketch of them except to say they both looked petite and one wore a neon green parka and matching hat, while the other had a gray parka with a white hat that resembled a sheep.
Each of them had a backpack, and they staggered down the sidewalk. Their pace wavered between slow and veering forward as they looked at the individual houses.
“What isthat?” Orrin asked, studying the women as if they were a bizarre zoo animal.
“A pair of drunk wizards,” Considine said. “Presumably. I can’t sense magic like the two of you.”
“Neither of them are using any magic at the moment that I can feel,” I said. “Can you sense anything, Orrin?”
“No,” Orrin said.
