The Returned (10 page)

“T
his is interesting,” Edward said as he looked over the body. It had been closed up, the organs returned. He'd given the man's tattoos a cursory examination. He wasn't familiar with this particular gang, but from the number of them and the age of the victim, he was probably a low-level member.

“Witnesses report that William Boulard,” John said to Henry, “also known as Pit Bull, entered the house. It was a popular and well-known hangout for the Royal Skeleton Brigade. William didn't say anything. He just drew out two pistols and opened fire.”

Edward made a noncommittal sound as he leaned in to examine the incision. John had made his new incisions just inside the scars of the old one. They'd healed very cleanly and were hard to spot. Something about this, aside from the obvious, seemed odd to him. Then it occurred to him.

He leaned in close and took a long smell.

“You noticed it too,” John said. “The lack of decomp.”

“He doesn't smell at all,” Edward said.

“Damndest thing,” John said. “I've never seen anything like it. He's been here almost a week, and even kept in the cooler there should be some stench. Just another factor of weird in this case.”

Edward shot Caitlin a glance before returning to his exam.

“Oh,” she said and bent over a little.

“Are you okay?” John asked, turning to help her.

“I'm fine,” she said. “I think it's just the small room and the chemical smells.”

As Henry and John helped Caitlin and her rather-brilliant manipulation of their Southern gentlemanly nature, Edward dragged a finger along the arm of his glasses.

“
Gadewch i mi weld
,” he whispered and focused his will on the tiny symbols he'd etched along the inside of the arms.

The world shifted around him, the colors becoming more vivid, and he could see the traces of magic in the air. It would also allow him to see through fae glamour. In fact, that had been the original intent of it. Caitlin could see through them naturally, but Edward couldn't, and he'd decided this was easier than casting a spell every time.

There was a subtle haze of magic around the body, drifting and flowing like smoke, except this was purple. That was not normal. While everyone had magic in them, even if only an infinitesimal amount, that magic died when the person did. Edward dragged a fingertip over the abdomen and up to the chest, trying to feel any lingering power beneath the skin. Cold raced up his fingers and into his arm, numbing it.

When he touched over the heart, it took all his control not to jerk his hand back. Cold sweat ran down his back as he recognized that power.

When Fiona had been taken, he'd tried a spell to find her. He'd failed, but worse, he'd let something dark and powerful get inside him, something alien and inhuman. Patiently, it began to manipulate him, feeding him power and warping his mind. He never learned exactly what it was, but he suspected it was the same Hellspawned that had controlled Aiken, the wizard who'd been helping a group of dark fae but ultimately outwitted them. Edward's confrontation with that demon had nearly killed him. That power was the same power he was feeling now.

Slowly, he drew back his shaking hand, straightened his glasses, and took in a deep breath. He was only dimly aware of his surroundings.

“Thank you,” Caitlin was saying as she accepted a cup of water and drank it. “I'm fine, really.”

“I sometimes forget how overpowering it can get in these close quarters,” John said, then turned to Edward. “Dr. Huntington, have you found—good Lord, are you all right?”

“Oh my God, Edward,” Caitlin said and went to him.

“I'm fine,” he said, then whispered to Caitlin. “I recognize the magic.”

Caitlin didn't say anything, but her eyes did get a little wider.

“You're sure?” John asked.

Edward nodded. “I think it's probably the same thing that bothered Caitlin.”

“If you say so,” John said.

Henry just gave him a questioning look.

Edward nodded subtly in response.

“Did you find anything?” John asked.

“There was—” Edward started but was interrupted by a commotion in the hallway.

“I told you,” said a woman—the receptionist, Edward thought. “You can't just go back here. I don't care who you are!”

“And I explained to you we can,” said a male voice.

A moment later, six men in dark suits approached the autopsy suite, two of whom stepped inside. Edward's blood ran cold, and it took him a moment to realize the spell on his glasses was still working. All of the men were wrapped in magic. He instinctively stepped in front of Caitlin and readied the most potent protection spell he knew.

“What's the meaning of this?” John said and stepped in front of the men, blocking their way. “This is a restricted area.”

“I tried to explain that, Doctor,” the receptionist said.

“It's fine, Bessy,” John said. “I'll handle this.”

The receptionist left, muttering less than polite comments under her breath.

Two of the suited men in the hall turned their backs to the room and blocked the doorway. One of the men in the room, a man in his early fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and built like a linebacker, stepped forward and flashed some credentials.

“I'm Agent William Dehart, DHS,” he said. “This is Agent Collins.”

The man next to Dehart didn't look old enough to drink, but his eyes were hard, and they made Edward feel like they were boring into him.

“We have a warrant to collect the remains of one William Boulard,” Dehart said, leaning past John to see the toe tag of the body. “We're also confiscating all files and records relating to him and his case, as well as six others.” He gave John a small smile. “Digital and hard copy, of course.”

“Now, just one minute,” John said. “I have jurisdiction of all bodies in my custody until I release them to another, and I'm not—”

“With all due respect, Doctor,” Dehart said, “we're here on a court order. One that doesn't even require us to notify you. I'm doing so as a courtesy.” He turned to the men in the hall. “Coid.”

“Sir?” a man in the hall answered.

“Take Martinez to the doctor's office and collect the files.”

“Yes, sir,” Coid said. He and the other man in the hall disappeared.

“Those are evidentiary files!” John said and tried to move past Dehart. “I won't let you compromise those cases!”

“Doctor,” Dehart said, placing a hand on John's chest and gently pushing him back, “I urge you not to interfere. The more you cooperate, the sooner we'll be done and you can get back to your work.”

“They're wizards,” Edward whispered to Caitlin.

“What?” she said. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Edward said.

Collins narrowed his eyes at Edward, then leaned over and whispered something to Dehart.

“I think he knows I'm one too,” Edward said.

“Dr. Huntington?” Dehart asked.

Edward's stomach twisted into a knot, and he almost lost the spell he was holding.

John and Henry both turned to Edward.

“How do you know my name?” Edward asked.

Dehart smiled. “Classified.”

“We've got the files, sir,” said Coid from the hall. “Slack space has been wiped.”

“Let me see that warrant!” John said and grabbed for the papers.

Dehart released them, never taking his eyes off Edward.

“This isn't an order,” John said. “This is just the notification of an order.”

“The warrant itself is classified, sir,” Dehart said. “But rest assured the proper due process was observed. You can contact the DOJ with that case number to confirm if you'd like.”

“Are you saying this is a FISA warrant?” John asked.

“How exactly is the murder of a local gang member linked to espionage or terrorism?” Edward asked before he could stop himself.

“Classified,” Dehart said again. He looked at Collins then back to Edward. “But, I will urge you, your wife, and your Rogue Court friends to keep out of government affairs.”

“How do you know—?” Caitlin asked.

“We're not the bad guys, Mrs. Huntington,” Dehart said. “We're here to protect American lives and property from all threats. Be they foreign, domestic . . . or nonhuman.”

“What exactly does that mean?” John asked, looking from Dehart to Edward and back.

“You wouldn't want to be charged with interfering with a federal case,” Dehart said to Caitlin and Edward, ignoring John. “Or worse, classified as an enemy combatant.”

“There are details in this case you might not be aware of,” Edward said.

“We appreciate your input, Doctor,” Dehart said. “But we can manage our own investigations, thank you. Coid, Sullivan, collect the body.”

“Sir,” said Coid and Sullivan in unison.

The two men blocking the door parted just enough to let the other two in. The pair moved to the table. One of the two, a well-built man with a shaved head, pulled out an amulet. Edward saw it only a moment, but he clearly saw the Aramaic characters. He positioned himself in front of both Henry and Caitlin and stepped away from the gurney, urging them both back.

The man whispered something Edward didn't recognize, and in a bright flash, the body vanished.

“Dear God,” John said and looked to Dehart with wide eyes.

“Collins,” Dehart said.

“Sir,” Collins said and stepped forward.

As the man lifted his hand, Edward felt him drawing in power.

“
Amddiffynnent
!” Edward said and released the spell he'd been holding.

The magical barrier came to life, binding itself to the room around it. An instant later, Edward felt the spell crash against his ward like a tsunami, but it didn't get through.

John's eyes glazed over, and he fell to the floor, followed by the sounds of others in the building collapsing.

“John!” Henry shouted.

“He's fine, I assure you,” Dehart said, then looked to Collins, who nodded. “They all are.”

“Twenty minutes, sir,” Collins said. “It was clean.”

Dehart nodded, then looked at Edward. “Dr. Huntington, would you kindly drop your ward?”

Caitlin stepped next to Edward. “Would you kindly kiss my ass?”

Dehart laughed, a genuine laugh. “You do not disappoint,” he said. Then he drew in a breath and let it out. “Okay, I'm going to give you the courtesy of some honesty. For the sake of national security, we need to clear your memories of us and this incident.”

Caitlin took Edward's hand and squeezed it.

“If need be,” Dehart said, “we can and will tear down that ward and—”

There was another rush of power, and the two men blocking the door fell to the floor like puppets with their strings cut.

Dehart gave Collins a murderous look.

“It wasn't me, sir,” Collins said.

There was a rush of wind, and a tall, thin figure in a hooded jacket appeared in the room. She stood with her back to Edward, Caitlin, and Henry, facing the two wizards. When the hood came down, Edward saw she had short, sky blue hair.

Collins drew a pistol from his jacket more quickly than Edward would've believed possible and leveled it at the stranger. Edward saw the look of fear in both men's eyes, though Dehart hid it better.

“Hi, Ovation,” the new arrival said. “You look good for someone who had their throat cut.”

“Wraith?” Edward and Caitlin both asked at the same time.

“H
ey ya, Doc,” Wraith said but didn't take her eyes off Ovation.

“I'm afraid you have me confused with—”

“Liar!” Wraith screamed and let loose a wave of entropic magic.

The room actually shook, and Ovation's pistol flew apart.

“Ms. Essex,” the man next to Ovation said—his boss, Wraith figured. “There's no need to—”

“My name is Wraith,” she said.

“Wraith,” the man said, his tone unconcerned. Then he noticed Ovation was still pointing what was left of his gun at Wraith. “Four, lower your—what's left of your weapon.”

Ovation did so.

“Four?” Wraith asked. “That your new name?”

“Don't do anything rash,” the boss said to her. “You don't want the kind of trouble this will bring.”

Wraith looked at him and gave a wolfish grin. “Yeah, because I've never been in trouble before.”

Both men were silent.

“Who are you?” she asked the boss.

“You can call me One,” he said.

“One?” Wraith asked. “Are we on
Sesame Street
or something?”

“This doesn't involve you,” One said. “You can leave now, and there won't be any repercussions.” He glanced over Wraith's shoulder. “I'll even allow you to take the good doctor and his wife with you. But we can't let the civilian leave remembering what he saw.”

“You even try to get inside his head,” Wraith said, “and I'll tear you both from reality.”

One arched an eyebrow. “Are you still capable of that? I heard you'd been taken down a few notches in your power levels.”

“Why don't you try me and find out,” Wraith said. The truth was, she wasn't sure she could. The last time she'd done that, she'd had the power of a couple of hundred changeling souls bound to her and feeding her power. Of course, these two didn't know that, and Wraith was good at bluffing.

There was a long silence as One and Wraith stared each other down.

“Very well, we have what we came for,” One said, then looked at Edward and Caitlin's friend. “I suggest you forget about everything you've seen here today, Dr. Thomas. If you speak of what you've seen to anyone, including your wife, at the minimum you'll both be charged with treason and release of classified information, at worst with providing material support to terrorists.”