“You’re a cop, you can’t do shit like that.”
I put my face down so he could see me. “I’m a marshal with the Preternatural Division, you’re casting death magic, I can do a hell of a lot worse than break your bones.”
“Jesus, no, please, don’t kill me.”
Funny how they always get religious when they think they’re going to die. I was half lying to him. If I’d had a warrant of execution for him in my pocket, then I could have done whatever I wanted to him, but we hadn’t waited for the warrant, so I had to play by cop rules, not executioner rules. Handcuffs in place, bad guy subdued, I let myself glance behind at Zerbrowski. He was sitting up and leaning against Nicky, but his eyes were open and he had his gun in his hand pointed in a safe direction.
“The magic worked on him. Why didn’t it work on you?” Curtis asked in a voice that was thick with pain.
“What should have worked? What were you trying to do to me, asshole?”
“Drain you a little, that’s all. I wasn’t using the full spell. I wasn’t trying to kill any of you.”
I had a moment to realize that he’d done the equivalent of trying to wound us instead of killing us, and if he’d been aiming to kill, then I’d have had to explain it to Katie and the kids.
“Anita,” Zerbrowski said, “I’m okay. Chill, okay?” He meant don’t hurt him any more, but didn’t want to say it out loud in front of the prisoner in case we needed to threaten him with violence to get information. I didn’t feel bad about the finger. If he was green enough or weak enough to need to point to work magic, then he deserved what he got. And I was pissed at myself for not realizing that I wasn’t the only target in the room. I’d been so busy being immune to the magic and angry that it was my own magic being shoved at me that I hadn’t thought it through. It was a rookie mistake, one that could have cost Zerbrowski everything.
I ground my knee harder, one hand staying on him so I could feel if he moved. I did not want my carelessness to hurt anyone else today. I glanced back. Zerbrowski was on his knees, but he looked steadier. His gun was still out, but I was blocking any shot he had at the bad guy. Nicky was still trying to help him up, and Zerbrowski pushed him away. “Go help her with the perp.”
I realized that Nicky couldn’t stop helping Zerbrowski until I told him to stop. My metaphysical ties to Nicky have some weird consequences, like if I give him a direct order, he must obey it. “Nicky, it’s okay.”
Nicky stopped fussing with Zerbrowski and came to kneel by me.
“Hold him while I pat him down,” Nicky said, and just like that I felt foolish again. I’d been so busy concentrating on the magic that it hadn’t occurred to me to search him for a gun or knife. I helped Nicky pat down his back and then I rolled him over on his broken finger, which made him complain—okay, he screamed—but we searched him for weapons anyway. There wasn’t anything to find, but I hadn’t known that when I jerked him up off the floor the first time. How could I have been so careless?
“He’s clean,” Nicky said.
“No, he’s not,” Zerbrowski said. “The bag around his neck isn’t harmless.”
“You’re right,” I said and reached for the bag. He tried to fight us off, handcuffed, broken finger and all. I finally had to cut the leather thong that held it around his neck, and only Nicky’s hand on his head kept him from cutting himself on my knife.
Nicky kept his hand on Curtis so he couldn’t get up while I opened the bag on the floor near the bed. The bag held a small bone, some herbs, some grayish powder, and a small stone. I looked at the bone for a long time and then finally at him. “It’s a bone from the skeleton on the wall.” I said it like I was