hitched. Samuel wasn’t LeBron. His smile wasn’t quite the same as his father’s had been. But there was something about seeing that reflection of the man in his son . . . it eased her. “I’m glad he did.”
He shrugged. “He knows I’m still hunting a job and could come right away.”
“He knows you can do the job or he wouldn’t have asked for you.”
“I should hope not,” Fagin said, “considering it’s my life this dashing young man is protecting. Clearly you two know each other?”
Lily glanced at Samuel and caught him doing the same with her. Yes, they knew each other. Not well, yet it was an intimate connection. She’d heard quite a bit about Samuel before she met him at his father’s firnam. LeBron had given his life to save Lily’s. She smiled and agreed that they did, indeed, know each other. “You’re in good hands.”
“Glad to hear it. You can’t know everyone in both of Rule’s clans, so there must be some connection . . .”
“You are incurably nosy, aren’t you?” Lily finally sat in the chair Samuel had brought for her. “How are you doing? You don’t look doped up.”
“Oh, I’m on pain medication still. If I doze off midsen-tence, that’s why. They tell me my lungs are in good shape, which is a blessing. I still cough now and then.”
“The expert I talked to thinks it was an SIP. That stands for self-igniting phosphorus. The British stockpiled a lot of them during WWII that they didn’t use, but I doubt yours came from one of those stockpiles. Seems like they’d be too old.”
His eyebrows climbed. “You’ve been busy for an incarcerated woman. Have they dropped the charges?”
“No,” she said shortly. “I’m out on my own recognizance. Also on administrative leave. I don’t think it will take that long for them to do the official firing.”
“Lily . . .” Fagin heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do—”
“You can answer some questions about patterning and”—she glanced at Samuel—“about what we discussed at Ruben’s party.”
Fagin’s eyebrows climbed. “Ghosts?”
“We talked about ghosts twice, didn’t we? I was thinking of the second conversation.”
“How intriguing. Samuel, I believe the things I was wearing when they brought me here must be around somewhere. If you wouldn’t mind . . . thank you.” Samuel handed him the shopping bag, and he began rooting around in it. “In case you’re wondering, Samuel is interested in ghosts, also. Have you seen the news reports?”
Puzzled, she glanced at the TV. A dark-haired woman was talking, but the sound was too low for Lily to catch the words. “About my arrest?”
“No, about the ghosts. There have been several sightings reported in the D.C. area in the last few days. They did a local color piece on it last night.”
“I’m told that death magic can throw ghosts.”
“So I’ve heard. Ah, here it is.” Fagin pulled his hand out of the sack and held it out. On his palm rested a small crystal. “I don’t suppose you have a hammer in your purse?”
“You’re more prepared than I am.” She took the little crystal. “You carry one of these with you everywhere?”
“That one won’t be fully charged,” he said apologetically. “I was conducting a small experiment to see how long it took proximity to my Gift to drain the crystal. That’s why I had it in my robe pocket—I was keeping it close all the time.”
“Better than nothing. I can’t set a circle.”
“No more can I. We’ll have to hope that two sensitives are enough to disrupt the skills of any listeners who might happen to be paying attention.”
“I don’t know. Friar’s shown a keen interest in you. If Rule were here . . .” Though he would be, and soon. The stretched feeling had eased entirely. He was close. “Well, listening isn’t seeing, is it? We’ll just have to take advantage of Friar’s limitations.” Lily stood, put the crystal on the linoleum floor, and drew her weapon.
Fagin jerked fully upright. “I don’t think that’s—”
“I’m not going to shoot it,” she said, amused. She knelt, reversed her grip, and smashed the butt on the crystal. It crunched, and she felt the wave of magic roll off it. She stood and holstered her weapon. “That felt a little weaker than at Ruben’s. How long do we have?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe thirty minutes. Maybe less.”
“We’ll keep it as quick as possible, then.” Lily pulled her notebook from her purse and handed it and a pen to Fagin. “Write