this?”
“Because, whether I like it or not, you have the reputation for finding out the truth about weird crimes. I decided to take a shot and ask you what you thought about this one.”
That Nash had even considered asking me my opinion spoke volumes as to how far he’d unbent since he’d first met me. When I’d arrived in Magellan five months ago, he’d made it clear he thought me a con artist who’d bamboozled the McGuires into believing I could find their missing daughter. It floored me that Nash was extending this small tether of trust.
I looked at the body again, at the sticky black aura surrounding it. It radiated death, but the only thing I could sense about the victim was his or her acute surprise. Whoever had killed had done so quickly, and the victim had probably been unaware it had even happened.
The magic residue from the killer was incredibly powerful. It had a whiff of godlike power—not good, solid earth magic—but it was uncertain. It might not be god magic at all, or, indeed, Beneath magic. The fact that I couldn’t see anything clearer bothered me a lot.
I rubbed my still-aching head. “Hard to say. If you’re hoping I’ll confirm that Coyote did this, I can’t.”
Nash opened his notebook and started writing. “That’s it?”
“Something or someone is hiding the aura of the murderer. Whoever can do that would be very powerful.”
“Like who?” the literal-minded Nash asked.
Coyote for one, I thought but didn’t say. “A human mage, possibly. If they were powerful enough.”
Nash looked at me over his notebook. “Mage?”
“A witch, you’d call them. Not necessarily Wiccan, but someone with some hard-ass magic.” Someone like that, I didn’t want to meet.
Nash’s eyes narrowed. “Heather Hansen claims to be a witch.”
Heather owned the local woo-woo store called Paradox, which sold crystals, tarot cards, incense, and other accoutrements for magic working. “I don’t think so. Heather thoroughly embraces the creed of doing no harm to others. She works spells of protection, leaves gifts for the wee folk, organizes the Ghost Train festival. She has power, more than she knows, but she doesn’t have the temperament to kill with it. Especially not like this.”
Nash listened with a look of doubt, but I knew I was right. Heather’s aura had no darkness. She was a truly kind person and didn’t have the power I sensed here, but I watched Nash noting down Heather Hansen as a person to be questioned.
“Anyone else?”
Cassandra, I thought but didn’t want to say. She was Wiccan, but I didn’t know her well enough to know what she was capable of. She was strong, I knew that, and damn good at her job, but I couldn’t know whether she had it in her to kill.
I was debating whether to mention her to Nash, who would probably whip her under hot lights without drawing breath, when the arrival of the rest of the police interrupted us. A car marked “City of Magellan Police” pulled up to disgorge Emilio Salas and a uniform cop. Lopez and two other deputies from the county pulled in right behind them, Lopez and Salas greeting each other like the old friends they were.
“Don’t leave yet,” Nash said to me. “I need statements from both of you.”
“Statements? What for?”
Nash’s badge winked in the light of the flares Salas was setting out. “I am still pinning my suspicions on Coyote, but either of you could have done this. You only alibi each other.” He looked from me to Mick, who nodded thoughtfully.
“ I couldn’t,” I said. “Not without a storm.”
Mick and Nash looked at me at the same time, and I knew they were recalling what I’d done to the demons in Death Valley. Both gave me hard stares, and I didn’t have to be psychic to know they thought me perfectly capable of this horrific deed.
“I don’t know how I called that magic,” I said irritably. “It just happened, probably because we were going to die. I can’t conjure it at
“Because, whether I like it or not, you have the reputation for finding out the truth about weird crimes. I decided to take a shot and ask you what you thought about this one.”
That Nash had even considered asking me my opinion spoke volumes as to how far he’d unbent since he’d first met me. When I’d arrived in Magellan five months ago, he’d made it clear he thought me a con artist who’d bamboozled the McGuires into believing I could find their missing daughter. It floored me that Nash was extending this small tether of trust.
I looked at the body again, at the sticky black aura surrounding it. It radiated death, but the only thing I could sense about the victim was his or her acute surprise. Whoever had killed had done so quickly, and the victim had probably been unaware it had even happened.
The magic residue from the killer was incredibly powerful. It had a whiff of godlike power—not good, solid earth magic—but it was uncertain. It might not be god magic at all, or, indeed, Beneath magic. The fact that I couldn’t see anything clearer bothered me a lot.
I rubbed my still-aching head. “Hard to say. If you’re hoping I’ll confirm that Coyote did this, I can’t.”
Nash opened his notebook and started writing. “That’s it?”
“Something or someone is hiding the aura of the murderer. Whoever can do that would be very powerful.”
“Like who?” the literal-minded Nash asked.
Coyote for one, I thought but didn’t say. “A human mage, possibly. If they were powerful enough.”
Nash looked at me over his notebook. “Mage?”
“A witch, you’d call them. Not necessarily Wiccan, but someone with some hard-ass magic.” Someone like that, I didn’t want to meet.
Nash’s eyes narrowed. “Heather Hansen claims to be a witch.”
Heather owned the local woo-woo store called Paradox, which sold crystals, tarot cards, incense, and other accoutrements for magic working. “I don’t think so. Heather thoroughly embraces the creed of doing no harm to others. She works spells of protection, leaves gifts for the wee folk, organizes the Ghost Train festival. She has power, more than she knows, but she doesn’t have the temperament to kill with it. Especially not like this.”
Nash listened with a look of doubt, but I knew I was right. Heather’s aura had no darkness. She was a truly kind person and didn’t have the power I sensed here, but I watched Nash noting down Heather Hansen as a person to be questioned.
“Anyone else?”
Cassandra, I thought but didn’t want to say. She was Wiccan, but I didn’t know her well enough to know what she was capable of. She was strong, I knew that, and damn good at her job, but I couldn’t know whether she had it in her to kill.
I was debating whether to mention her to Nash, who would probably whip her under hot lights without drawing breath, when the arrival of the rest of the police interrupted us. A car marked “City of Magellan Police” pulled up to disgorge Emilio Salas and a uniform cop. Lopez and two other deputies from the county pulled in right behind them, Lopez and Salas greeting each other like the old friends they were.
“Don’t leave yet,” Nash said to me. “I need statements from both of you.”
“Statements? What for?”
Nash’s badge winked in the light of the flares Salas was setting out. “I am still pinning my suspicions on Coyote, but either of you could have done this. You only alibi each other.” He looked from me to Mick, who nodded thoughtfully.
“ I couldn’t,” I said. “Not without a storm.”
Mick and Nash looked at me at the same time, and I knew they were recalling what I’d done to the demons in Death Valley. Both gave me hard stares, and I didn’t have to be psychic to know they thought me perfectly capable of this horrific deed.
“I don’t know how I called that magic,” I said irritably. “It just happened, probably because we were going to die. I can’t conjure it at
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