Some Kind of Magic (5 page)

though he and Penn had both voted for talking to the guy

first. So they were waiting to talk to Perretti. He tried not to

think about undone paperwork on his desk. Or the calls he

had to make. Or the lunch he could have eaten.

He also tried not to think of putting Nasreen through a

trial and was just hoping she would forget her plans for

revenge and whatever those entailed.

Thinking of fairy tradition, trying to imagine one, if they

had any, and what they might be to survive the generations

of long-lived partiers, had led him to daydreaming—always

dangerous at the station, with a larger audience, because of

where his thoughts always went.

Thankfully, as predicted, Penn"s mother had called

before he"d embarrassed himself, and Penn had still been on

the phone when Ray came back from getting them both

snacks and more water, so he got to listen to Penn dealing

with the mass of guilt being dumped on her—always

entertaining. Without meaning to pry, he could hear both

Some Kind of Magic |
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30

sides of the conversation, which Penn knew, and she glared

at him the entire time.

It was nice to hear her get lectured once in a while,

though the subject was just as familiar to him. How
could

she have left home? How could she live among the humans,

and how could she choose a
cop"s
life of all things? Didn"t

she know the city was
dangerous?

Ray had met Penn"s mother. He"d never met a more

terrifying woman. She was by far more frightening than

anything else he"d ever encountered. And he wasn"t just

saying that as a man and her potential prey.

“Ah, mom guilt,” he said, when Penn finally hung up

after reminding her mother for the hundredth time that she

was at work. She sagged back in her seat and gave an

irritated sigh, but Ray understood. Sometimes tradition was

a heavy thing. It was why he"d left home. But he"d made this

city his home now. It was his. His mother had at least

understood that.

Anyway, Penn was the best. Whatever her reasons for

leaving the sea, he couldn"t ask for a better partner. “Want to

talk about it?” He offered anyway, amused by her snapped

refusal.

“Want to talk about why Perretti would come back to

attack Nasreen again?” she tossed back, eyeing him

carefully.

Ray suppressed a twitch. “Because he saw that spun

sugar display, and he knew what it was. What it meant.”

“Do you think Audrey knows? I think she does.” Penn

was matter-of-fact. Her sidelong look at him, however, was

more teasing. “I just don"t know why she hasn"t taken what

Nasreen is
clearly
offering.”

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31

Ray watched the street. He didn"t have to think about it.

“Because she"s a fairy,” he answered without turning, and

then good old Warren showed up. Dropping the subject, they

both got out to follow him inside and coolly invite him to ride

downtown with them.

THE video footage, and the fact that Perretti still had the key

on him, was enough for a warrant for his DNA and to arrest

him. An ID from Nasreen couldn"t hurt, but when Penn had

called Miss Conti to share the news, Nasreen hadn"t been

with her.

It was going to be difficult to get Nasreen involved with

the legal system now that the arrest had been made. There

was nothing pleasant about trials, other than sending a

scumbag to jail of course, but Ray didn"t expect others to

share his interests or to be as invested in keeping his city

safe.

There was only one fairy—half-fairy—whom Ray had

seen regularly deal with the legal system, and it was…

something… to see him in a shirt and tie, trying to stay still

for cross-examination. It was also something to watch him

win over a jury with his charm before tearing a clumsy

defense to pieces with that disarmingly quick mind and that

smile.

But Ray wanted this case to be airtight, for both their

sakes, and since once they"d taken his DNA Perretti had

been smart enough to ask for a lawyer, they were going to

need Nasreen"s ID.

Lawyers. Smug bastard criminals always had smug

bastard criminal defense attorneys. Though a night in

Some Kind of Magic |
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32

lockup with no booze might knock some of that attitude right

out of Perretti. He had actually seemed fairly terrified at the

thought of jail. If he hadn"t almost beaten someone to death,

Ray might have taken pity on him. Instead Ray had followed

him down to Booking to make absolutely sure everything

was done properly so the man couldn"t weasel out later on a

technicality, and then had come back to the bullpen to find

Penn had called it a night.

There were other detectives milling around, and he

stopped to chat for a few minutes, picking up news with

ease. It was the way information traveled through the

station. There"d been a shooting—drug related—but the imp

murder case was wrapping up. That bit of gossip earned Ray

a few sly looks, though he didn"t say anything about it one

way or the other.

A few of the uniformed officers showed up then too, and

even they had already heard about Ray"s case due to the

inevitable chain of gossip. Ross even offered his sympathies.

“Defense attorneys.” Ray shook his head. Everyone had

a right to them, but it was always the people least deserving

of such protections that seemed to get them.

Ray spent a few more minutes complaining about

overpriced, slick defense attorneys with some of the other

guys, because every cop had a story about a lawyer looking

for some loophole or letting a criminal back out on the

streets. Though at least in this case there was absolutely no

way this guy was getting back out any time soon.

The thought made him flash his teeth, which these days

hardly ever scared anyone in the department, or they"d

gotten better at hiding it. But they had work to do, and there

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33

was a steak calling Ray"s name. He was going to eat and

then go to bed, if he could make it there.

But once he was home and fed he was too exhausted to

fight the fantasy that always popped up when he was alone.

Fantasy, daydream, wish, all of those things, but mostly it

was a memory. The dream was in changing the ending.

Aguirre had just wrapped up a case involving an imp.

The scent of powdered sugar and sprinkled donuts had been

tucked away into his clothes. He"d also been full of funny

stories about the magic consultants he"d worked with,

genuinely funny stories, not the kind that the department"s

sensitivity training told them they weren"t supposed to tell

and especially not around Ray. They knew better now than

to talk like that in front of him.

It was like Aguirre and Cal had gotten along, like the

other detective maybe even counted Cal as a friend now, or

more than a friend. Ray closed his eyes, licked at his

canines. The scent of sprinkles floated back to him, and he

sighed, not quite shifting but wanting to, so he could

imagine his head on someone"s knee as he fell asleep, what it

might have been like if he hadn"t told Cal to leave.

HE WOKE early to the sound of his phone ringing. It was

Penn; they had another case. Her voice was grim.

Despite sleeping all night, Ray was still tired, because it

hadn"t been the kind of rest that he needed. Unfortunately,

there was only one way to get that, so he"d stumbled in after

drinking too much coffee, stiff from sleeping on the couch

and hungry once again.

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34

He was always hungry. But it wasn"t that he was so

starving that people had to leave him food to make sure he

ate. He just had a larger appetite than humans. There had

been no donut on his desk today in any case, and he and

Penn had had to head out to their crime scene.

Minutes later, Ray was wearing crime scene booties and

staring down at a body. He scratched his nose.

Around him, the forensics team had just started in on

the room. It was an office, filled with law books that looked

like they"d never been cracked and which smelled like dust

and mold, which meant they probably never had been. Ray

disliked books for show about as much as he disliked

defense attorneys like the one dead on the floor, his body

going one way, his head going another. But possibly the only

thing he liked even less than high-priced defense attorneys

setting free the scumbags he"d arrested, was murder of any

kind.

In his town. He almost let out a little growl and might

have if it wouldn"t have frightened the CSU people. He"d had

a hard enough time convincing people he was in control

when he"d started in the force. He didn"t need to ruin it now.

At the thought, he stopped rubbing his nose, though the

oddly cool smell of death always left him feeling twitchy, and

glanced around for Penn. He got a hint of the metallic, salty

traces that had been lingering in the air too, entirely different

from Penn"s naturally rich sea scent, and then saw her. She

was interviewing the dead man"s secretary, calming her

down with carful pats on the shoulder and jotting down her

gulped words.

Found him like that this morning
, she sobbed.
No sign of

anything else out of place
.
Nothing odd had happened

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35

yesterday
.
Mr. Fielding had stayed late, but he did that

sometimes with the clients that he knew made her

uncomfortable
.

Thoughtful of him, Ray reflected, until he considered

that the man had still been working to let those criminals

back on the streets where they would have been free to make

her as uncomfortable as they pleased. It reminded him of his

own words last night as he"d let off some steam, and the

comments of Ross and the others.

He sighed. Penn met his gaze, and Ray realized that she

knew he was eavesdropping again. He arched an eyebrow at

her. He practically couldn"t help it. She knew that.

It had been just under a half-moon last night, but his

hearing and sense of smell were always sharp, even without

a full moon. Of the two senses, he would have preferred just

hearing, especially here, and wrinkled his nose, trying not to

notice that one of the crime scene guys needed to brush his

teeth and was radiating his need for sleep.

“Be sure to check the window for prints,” he called out,

though he doubted there"d be any there. Not with everything

else so neat and spotless. He was seriously starting to hate

forensics shows for giving criminals ideas, but he focused

back on Penn, the neat bun of blonde hair, the dark suit,

and was unsurprised when she finished her interview and

had the shaken woman escorted from the building. She was

at his side the next second, as always, utterly indifferent to

the way he towered over her and everyone else in the room.

“Your nose is twitching,” she remarked, her eyes

fathomless. He shrugged and straightened his tie.

“It smells like a corpse in here. And coffee breath.” The

techie jumped. “And something else… I don"t know.” He

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36

hated scent because it was impossible to describe to others,

even other Beings. “Metal. Strength. Intense need. Horror.

Damn it. I don"t know.”

“Did you eat after I called this morning?” Penn

immediately wanted to know, making him roll his eyes down

at her. She held up her hands. “You this cranky means

you"re hungry. Or tired. Or hungry and tired, because you"re

in total denial about—”

“Or that there"s been a murder,” Ray started to point

out, only then he raised his head, inhaling for a long, long

moment. His eyes closed.

There was noise outside, just audible to him, but getting

louder. Two voices, male, bickering playfully back and forth.

Ross, along with the other uniform at the door, shifted,

spiking with irritation. The voices got louder. So did Ross.