I’d deliberately embarrassed him. But as I felt another prick of guilt for the way I’d manipulated him, I said, ‘As I can’t look at the body, I thought it might be a good idea.’
‘You misunderstand me,’ she said. ‘You’re not a police consultant. You have no medical qualifications. You don’t deal with the dead. So why are you even here?’ Her eyes bored into me.
I had misunderstood her. ‘Alan Hinkley asked me to come.’ I accepted the cup of water Hugh was holding out towards me. Red dust shimmered in his black hair.
DI Crane’s mouth turned down. ‘Do you always do what people ask of you?’
‘My job is to find magic, Inspector.’ I took a sip of water, looked at her over the rim of the cup. ‘If that’s what I’m asked to do, then it pays me to do it.’
Spreading the fingers of her right hand, she inspected her rings, then clenched her fist. ‘The Witches’ Council wouldn’t have approved any involvement in this matter from Spellcrackers.com without a police request.’ She looked up, stared me straight in the eyes. ‘There hasn’t been one. Furthermore, there is no need for one. I have personally investigated Mr Hinkley’s claims that his so—’
She stopped mid-word, blue eyes going unfocused.
I glanced at Hugh, but he gave a tiny shake of his head, as mystified as I was.
DI Crane grasped her left earring as the colour faded from her face. A thin red line snaked out of her palm and twisted around her wrist, vanishing into her sleeve.
I jumped up, thinking she’d cut herself on her gems, that it was blood, then I realised it was a spell, one so powerful that I’d seen it without needing to look .
‘Munro.’ The DI’s voice cracked. She clutched the sapphire pendant with her other hand. ‘Sergeant Munro.’ The words were firmer, more decisive. ‘Reception. Now. ’ She turned and made for the door, saying over her shoulder to him, ‘They’re coming.’
Who is coming?
I hurried after them into the Back Hall, where a soft slapping sound caught my attention. Jeremiah the goblin, his mouth stretched wide in a grin, his green sequins bright against the black of his teeth, was smacking his bat against the palm of his hand as he stared fixedly at the entranceway.
Behind the goblin stood Neil Banner and Alan Hinkley, looking similarly confused as they looked from the goblin to us to the door.
Then a crawling sensation washed over me, raising every hair on my body, and I knew what - or rather, who - was coming. This was so not good. Advertising their approach like this was akin to taking an imp to show-and-tell at Sunday School.
Hugh’s hair had flattened, giving him a hard, crushing look. Had he remembered about the goblin’s bling, remembered how young and inexperienced the goblin was? ‘Hugh,’ I muttered, trying to catch his attention.
‘Not now, Genny,’ he said, voice calm. ‘Go back inside. This is no place for you.’
Maybe he was right.
But it was too late.
The door crashed open. A chill wind rushed in, swirled round the hall, set the lights swinging on their chains and rattled the glass in the windows.
Then all was perfect stillness.
And the sound of the goblin slapping his bat on the palm of his hand sounded as loud as a fire-dragon’s jaw snapping closed.
Chapter Nine
T hree vampires walked into the police station. It sounds like one of those jokes, except I doubted anyone would be laughing by the time we got to the punch-line.
The first one through the door lived up to the romantic stereotype: he swept his velvet knee-length jacket back with a flourish and posed with one hand on his hip. Ivory lace billowed at his wrists and neck, and a black ribbon caught his tawny hair in a loose pony-tail at the nape of his neck. Aquiline nostrils flared as he cast an arrogant look around the room, passing over Alan Hinkley, Neil Banner and the grinning goblin, all clustered on my right. He stopped when he reached me.
A shiver ran down my spine as
‘You misunderstand me,’ she said. ‘You’re not a police consultant. You have no medical qualifications. You don’t deal with the dead. So why are you even here?’ Her eyes bored into me.
I had misunderstood her. ‘Alan Hinkley asked me to come.’ I accepted the cup of water Hugh was holding out towards me. Red dust shimmered in his black hair.
DI Crane’s mouth turned down. ‘Do you always do what people ask of you?’
‘My job is to find magic, Inspector.’ I took a sip of water, looked at her over the rim of the cup. ‘If that’s what I’m asked to do, then it pays me to do it.’
Spreading the fingers of her right hand, she inspected her rings, then clenched her fist. ‘The Witches’ Council wouldn’t have approved any involvement in this matter from Spellcrackers.com without a police request.’ She looked up, stared me straight in the eyes. ‘There hasn’t been one. Furthermore, there is no need for one. I have personally investigated Mr Hinkley’s claims that his so—’
She stopped mid-word, blue eyes going unfocused.
I glanced at Hugh, but he gave a tiny shake of his head, as mystified as I was.
DI Crane grasped her left earring as the colour faded from her face. A thin red line snaked out of her palm and twisted around her wrist, vanishing into her sleeve.
I jumped up, thinking she’d cut herself on her gems, that it was blood, then I realised it was a spell, one so powerful that I’d seen it without needing to look .
‘Munro.’ The DI’s voice cracked. She clutched the sapphire pendant with her other hand. ‘Sergeant Munro.’ The words were firmer, more decisive. ‘Reception. Now. ’ She turned and made for the door, saying over her shoulder to him, ‘They’re coming.’
Who is coming?
I hurried after them into the Back Hall, where a soft slapping sound caught my attention. Jeremiah the goblin, his mouth stretched wide in a grin, his green sequins bright against the black of his teeth, was smacking his bat against the palm of his hand as he stared fixedly at the entranceway.
Behind the goblin stood Neil Banner and Alan Hinkley, looking similarly confused as they looked from the goblin to us to the door.
Then a crawling sensation washed over me, raising every hair on my body, and I knew what - or rather, who - was coming. This was so not good. Advertising their approach like this was akin to taking an imp to show-and-tell at Sunday School.
Hugh’s hair had flattened, giving him a hard, crushing look. Had he remembered about the goblin’s bling, remembered how young and inexperienced the goblin was? ‘Hugh,’ I muttered, trying to catch his attention.
‘Not now, Genny,’ he said, voice calm. ‘Go back inside. This is no place for you.’
Maybe he was right.
But it was too late.
The door crashed open. A chill wind rushed in, swirled round the hall, set the lights swinging on their chains and rattled the glass in the windows.
Then all was perfect stillness.
And the sound of the goblin slapping his bat on the palm of his hand sounded as loud as a fire-dragon’s jaw snapping closed.
Chapter Nine
T hree vampires walked into the police station. It sounds like one of those jokes, except I doubted anyone would be laughing by the time we got to the punch-line.
The first one through the door lived up to the romantic stereotype: he swept his velvet knee-length jacket back with a flourish and posed with one hand on his hip. Ivory lace billowed at his wrists and neck, and a black ribbon caught his tawny hair in a loose pony-tail at the nape of his neck. Aquiline nostrils flared as he cast an arrogant look around the room, passing over Alan Hinkley, Neil Banner and the grinning goblin, all clustered on my right. He stopped when he reached me.
A shiver ran down my spine as
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