Chapter 8

“Pine?” Mitchell called out.

“Coming.” I pulled the probe back and dodged around the blood. Ahead of me, Wilson seemed to slide from one clear patch of floor to another without effort. Not for the first time, I wished witches had gotten something like grace or athletics along with the magic.

The group by the door had lost a few people, and it was easy to see Floyd wasn’t with them. It was probably too much to hope he was sitting in handcuffs, but the thought had appeal.

From the furrowed brow and arms folded across her chest, Mitchell hadn’t enjoyed her phone calls, but her irritation didn’t seem to be directed at me. “Anything?”

“This is theory, not an official report.” I waited for her to nod. “We know at least two people were in this building, the dead man and the fey who’s missing a chunk of flesh. I think there had to be one more. Not because of the chunk of fey remains, but because Wilson noticed both teeth marks and tool marks on the body. Fey… I don’t think they’d eat flesh at all. So, that leaves one person eating the deceased. That person could’ve used the tools, so we’re looking for a fey with a bite taken out and someone who took the bite out.”

Mitchell tapped her fingers against her arm. “None of that is magic. You’re here for magic. We have other people for scene reconstruction.”

I winced. “Right. Um. There was a spell in effect when the two bites were taken out over there. I can remove the spell, and it’ll be safe to handle. The remains on the other side are a different story. That area is covered in blood magic. I don’t know if the blood warped the spells or if someone took advantage of the situation, but it has to be purified.”

“Won’t that destroy the spells?” Mitchell asked.

She knew her magic. That could work in my favor or not. “Well, yes.”

“Tell me you can do something to salvage the evidence.” A hint of desperation laced her voice. “We need everything we can get to catch the monster who did this.”

I braced myself to upset two superior officers in twelve hours, which had to be a record. “I’m sorry. It’s too dangerous. Once I’ve purified the remains, all the spells’ evidence will be gone. I’ll also have to purify everyone here, just to be safe. You don’t want this getting out.”

She looked past me and tapped her foot while she thought. Her eyes locked with mine. “What if I get a second opinion?”

“On blood magic?” I didn’t hide how crazy I thought that idea was. “Most witches won’t touch it. They’re afraid it will contaminate their magic. Even if they agreed, the price would pay my salary for five years. Let’s say you get the cost approved and get another witch out here. They’ll take one look at that and tell you to burn it. Good luck solving your case then.”

Now Mitchell’s frown was directed at me. “Fine, do it your way.”

I headed for the door; the items I’d need were in the car.

“Floyd is in the parking lot.”

“Narzel blast it.” I pivoted to face her. “Really?”

She nodded tiredly. “Smith called, and they argued. I talk to Smith, and he told me not to leave the two of you alone. I don’t need your drama messing up my investigation.”

“It’s not my drama, it’s his.” My voice rose enough to get the attention of everyone there. Great. Now I was the drama. Exactly what I didn’t need on my first case as expert witch. My career was off to a fabulous start. “I only met him yesterday. I think he hates witches.”

Mitchell tossed her hands in the air. “Women, witches, especially both, I don’t know.”

I narrowed my eyes. Maybe this wasn’t a problem between Mitchell and me. “Word on the street is Smith has a file with complaints.”

Her frown turned into a sharp smile. “It’s getting thicker.”

With the tension between us gone, other conversations drew the officer’s attention away. I huffed out a frustrated breath. “I’ll get rid of the magic that doesn’t need purification. If we’re lucky, he’ll leave before I need anything.”

“Thanks.” Her shoulders relaxed. “The medical examiner will be here soon, and that’ll be a big help.”

Getting back to the chunks of flesh wasn’t particularly fun, but I managed without damaging evidence. The spell fragments themselves were easy enough to wrangle. Channeling my efforts through my wand, a polished and hand-carved, eleven-inch white pine, I pulled the magic away from the flesh and shattered the spell remains before dispersing the energy into the earth. I did the same with the bits of magic clinging to the blood streaks from the chunks of flesh to the corner that hid the remains. Another foot or so was untainted, but that would be cleaned after I purified the rest.

It took longer to check that I hadn’t inadvertently absorbed any of the magic than it did to destroy the spells. That magic hadn’t been corrupted, but I didn’t want so much as a speck of the energy in this place mixing with my own.

Mitchell had probably hoped removing those spells would take more time, but it was a quick process. Sooner than either of us liked, we were stripping off our booties and gloves and heading into the parking lot.

I kept a sharp eye out as we walked to the car but didn’t see Floyd. After the earlier nonsense, I was properly grateful. Mitchell looked relived too, but she still kept watch as I traded the backpack for a fanny pack from my extra supplies. In nondescript black, it didn’t look like much, but it had all the things a witch needed for purifying blood magic.

That wasn’t strictly true. I was going to purify all the energy or the magic. They were often one and the same. Then I’d remove what shouldn’t be there if it lived through the purification ritual.

Back in the warehouse, and properly clothed in protective gear, I prepared to destroy evidence. Not just destroy, but destroy and add things to confuse the scene. Forensics, the medical examiner, and the district attorney’s office wouldn’t be happy, but none of them would be contaminated and go on a killing spree, which balanced it out in my mind. Not having studied the effects of blood magic to the same extent, I suspected they wouldn’t see the benefits of destroying evidence quite the same way.

It took some creative footwork, but I managed to encircle the remains, anything that looked corrupted by blood magic, and the remaining blood carrying traces of regular magic in salt. Inside the salt line, I sprinkled a mix of dried oregano, rosemary, thyme, and cloves to help charge the spell.

Forensics really would hate me for this.

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With the two circles closed, I retrieved a plastic bag from the fanny pack. After double-checking to make sure I didn’t have any blood on my hands, I slid a thin square of purified linen out of the bag. Embroidered onto it were row upon row of runes, each one done in painstaking detail that I hoped not to repeat any time soon.

I draped the cloth over my left hand and pointed my wand at it. “Nazid.” The cloth lifted up into the air and hovered at eye level. Narrowing my eyes, I guided it to the center of the area that needed purification.

Drawing up a thick strand of magic, I connected it to the cloth and cast the purification spell. “Alkaz.”

Golden white light shone out of the embroidery as it amplified the power I gave to the purification spell. Magic, pure and cleansing, streamed out of the top of the cloth and spread until it hit an invisible barrier the ring of salt had created. It flowed down the sides and rushed across the floor. The leading edge of the wave turned rust brown as it encountered the corruption. By the time the magic converged directly under the cloth, it had turned black. It flowed up, a darkness in the center of light, until it touched the cloth. The light flared brighter, burning away the corruption until it shone gold.

Behind me, I heard someone gasp and several exclamations of surprise, though not all of them were in language that entirely fit a ritual centered around a wholesome cleanse.

Some of the purification magic flowed back to me, eliminating the knots of tension that stress and worry had left. It cooled as it moved around the birthmark on the outside of my left leg, but that wasn’t a thing that could be purified.

The spell came to a close far less dramatically than it had awakened. The light faded away, the magic going with it, until the linen was left floating above the remains like some gruesome circus show.

I brought it back so it again hovered over my hand. “Tewaz.” It dropped onto my open palm, as clean and pure as before. The runes I’d carefully stitched into the cloth included spells for self-purification, making the item reusable until the energy destroyed the cloth.

A careful look confirmed the blood magic was gone, as was the rest of the remnants that had been mingling with the blood. That was the benefit of purification spells, they burned through other magics while cleaning.

After carefully replacing it in the plastic bag and securing it in the fanny pack, I turned back to the group. Mitchell had turned away, an arm shielding her eyes. Dark elves didn’t handle daylight well, never mind the blinding show I’d just put on. “Sorry. I should’ve warned you.”

Mitchell peeked out from behind her arm before lowering it and straightening. “Are purification spells always that bright?”

“Often. Again, sorry.” There wasn’t much more I could say at that point.

A tech with his suit partly unzipped to show the TBI t-shirt underneath kept staring behind me. “You sprinkled things all over the crime scene.”

“Yes?” I thought they understood why I was here and what I was doing. Apparently, I’d been wrong.

“You contaminated the scene!” He started forward, only to have the dwarf block his path.

“Can it, lad. She was doing her job.” The expression on the dwarf’s face said he’d seen things, things he wished he could forget. “Now it’s time for you to do yours, and count your blessings that she was here to keep that nastiness from latching on to you.”

The tech’s eyes widened. “Could that have happened?”

I looked him and everyone else over before answering. They were clean, or as clean as anyone was on an average day. “It can, but you’re fine. If you notice any unusual urges to experiment with magic or hurt someone, get evaluated.”

He nodded but didn’t seem reassured.

Tired, more so than when I’d gotten up thanks to the spells, and ready for a better breakfast, I turned to Mitchell. “Do you need me for anything else?”

“Out back. We found more body parts.” She pointed at the forensics team. “You know what to do until the medical examiner gets here.”

The one who’d questioned me lagged behind the others in donning the rest of his gear.

Mitchell led me out a side door to a cut open trash bag next to the dumpster, which was illuminated by three portable lights.

In the predawn, the artificial light was harsh, bringing too much detail to the blood and flesh spilling onto the gravel.

“Syed,” I swore. “A monster did this. Who else would mutilate a body this way?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, Mitchell crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know. Until the medical examiner sees this, I’m also not sure if it’s the same person or a different one.”

Rather than looking at the horror, I focused on the magic. Like the remains inside, these had traces of spells warped by blood magic. “I’ll have to purify these too.”

“I thought as much.” She sighed.

Since nothing I could say would make her feel better about the purification destroying evidence, I got to work. Because this was a smaller area and had less magic to begin with, though I wasn’t sure why, it didn’t take long to remove the traces of blood magic.

When I finished, I dusted off my hands and scanned the gravel around the dumpster and on each side of the building. Whoever had moved the body parts had kept the magic contained, which was less work for me but also less evidence.

Satisfied that my job was done, even if my colleagues wouldn’t appreciate everything, I reported to Mitchell. “It’s clean. Do you need anything else?”

She shook her head. “You did your part and can go.” Her eyes narrowed. “Would you like company?”

“Thank you.” Just because I could protect myself from Floyd didn’t mean I wanted to. It would be a lot of paperwork, and after this morning, I’d had plenty of that.

We passed the medical examiner on the way in. Police departments and related fields tended to be more human than not, but the medical examiner was a lithe elf with his silver hair pulled back into an intricate braid, leaving his pointed ears in full view. He tipped his head respectfully toward me and Mitchell. I thought about apologizing for the damage I’d done to the evidence, but if he was like any of the other medical examiners I’d worked with in the past, I’d have a phone call later today demanding an explanation. It could wait until then. If I was quick, I could hand him my official report and skip the uncomfortable conversation.

Outside, the fresh air pushed most of the stench out of my nose, and I sucked in deep breaths. This weekend I should get out of the city, visit my family and soak in the mountain air.

Mitchell stood beside me, her face turned up and nostrils flared, as the sun edged over the horizon. “No Floyd.”

“I don’t know what you did to get rid of him, but thank you.”

“It wasn’t me.” At my raised eyebrow, she amended, “Not entirely. I don’t know what transpired, but Smith called me back. He wants to see you today.”

“I figured.” Even if Floyd hadn’t been an idiot this morning, I would’ve been seeing Smith again about yesterday’s assault. “Thank you, really. We haven’t worked together before, and you stood up for me.”

Mitchell grinned. “Read the memo, and get me that report before the end of the day.” She patted my shoulder and headed back inside.

“Will do.” I stowed my gear and carefully backed out around the medical examiner’s van. They could’ve given me a few more inches clearance, but I managed.

On the way into the office, I went through a drive-through. The sandwich didn’t make it two miles.

Even at this hour, the office was busier than one would expect. For law enforcement, mornings started early and with gusto as the night’s mischief or gruesome murder was reported.

When I got to my desk, Smith had made himself at home as he reviewed a stack of papers.

I shoved my purse in the drawer and wished I’d had enough time to prep a lunch. “I’d ask what I did, but given the phone calls I know you received, I’m afraid I know the answer.”

Smith capped his pin with a clunk. “Agent Floyd is suspended and should not be at any other crime scenes or inside this building unless it’s for questioning or review.”

I hitched my hip on the edge of the desk. Five hours of sleep wasn’t enough to leave me in a sunny disposition. Floyd should’ve been suspended last night. Everything that had happened at the scene this morning could’ve been averted with correct action. But I shouldn’t say that, so I opted for a safer response. “Good.”

See? I could keep my mouth shut when it mattered.

“Report any additional problems he creates directly to me, and I’ll deal with them.” Smith gathered the papers and stood up. “Agent Mitchell might’ve told you. I changed the orders regarding your deployment. Agents are to make their own evaluation as to the necessity of calling you. If it doesn’t work, we’ll figure out something else.”

“Sounds good, sir.” I really tried to make that sound sincere, but what I really heard was all the driving I’d be doing from one end of the region to another every time an agent thought magic would magically solve their case.

He turned the empty chair toward me. “I want to see that report by lunch.”

“Yes, sir.” I told his back as he strode out of the room.

He lifted a hand in acknowledgment.

I sank into my chair and poked the power button on my computer. It sprang to life and cheerfully informed me it had ninety-seven updates. With a sigh, I dug a legal pad out from under a stack of papers and started making notes. Computers were the paperless revolution. Right.