the moment it held four: Drummond, a senior MCD agent named Mike Brassard whom Lily knew slightly, and two others who were strangers to her. There was a whiteboard with crime scene pics tacked up and a console table with a coffeepot, cups, and fixings.
Lily headed for the coffee.
Drummond stopped talking to the woman beside him—brown and blue, pale skin, glasses, five-five, one sixty, wrinkled gray suit. She looked to be on the far side of forty. “You’re late,” he told Lily.
“It’s 8:01, so yes, I am.” She poured herself a cup. It smelled fresh.
“I want you to check everyone in this room in your own special way. Do it now.”
Lily sighed, put down her coffee, and walked up to the dumpy woman beside Drummond. A quick handshake confirmed her lack of a Gift or any trace of death magic. She did the same with a bright-eyed Asian man of around thirty and with Brassard, the MCD agent.
“Well?” Drummond said.
“No death magic. I should check Ruben Brooks.”
“No.”
“It wouldn’t prove anything, but it would be information.”
“You aren’t just his subordinate. You went to his damn party Saturday. You won’t go anywhere near him during the course of this investigation.”
Her lips tightened. She went to retrieve her coffee.
“Feed your caffeine jones later. We’re going to be working with a large team. I want them all cleared before we start. Doug will send ’em in one at a time. Stand by the door and check them out. If you find death magic, don’t say anything. Signal by rubbing your hands together. Nguyen, stand by to take anyone down who doesn’t pass.”
It was a good plan, minimizing the confusion if she did find anything suspicious. Lily nodded but said, “My clearing someone this way only means they haven’t worked death magic recently. I can’t even say how recently.”
“It’s information.”
Hard to argue with what she’d just said, but she wanted to. Drummond affected her that way. “I’ve got a theory about one of the perps. The one who stuck the knife in Bixton.”
“Make it quick.”
She explained Cullen’s idea about the killer being a null—though she didn’t use that term, which some considered derogatory.
He grunted in what might have been surprise. “I’ll call on you to repeat that later. Right now, get started at the door. I want to get this thing under way.”
Lily shook nineteen hands. No death magic. One agent had a minor Gift—physical empathy—which surprised Lily. It was an unusual Gift and not one the man could have remained unaware of, as it essentially provided him with another sense. Physical empathy, unlike true empathy, allowed someone to sense physical objects directly in a way that had no clear analogue to the usual senses.
The agent met her gaze when she shook his hand and said nothing. Lily didn’t, either. She refused to out people. But she made a mental note of his name and face: Don Richardson, European ancestry, early forties, five-ten, brown and brown, with a small scar just under his right ear.
Lily knew some of the people, like Paul from Research and Hannah from CSI. And she knew the last person in, who had a minor patterning Gift. Lily already knew about that. She’d recommended Anna Sjorensen for training when they met last month. Sjorensen had been delegated to Headquarters recently so she could receive that training; she’d be transferred to the Unit once she’d completed it.
Working in the Unit was Anna Sjorensen’s dream. Lily gave her a smile. “Good to be working with you.”
Sjorensen nodded back, very serious. She was always very serious. “This is a bad business. I’m not sure why I’m here, though.”
“If I say to fetch coffee, someone’ll file a damn suit against me,” Drummond said sourly, “and Erin will bean me. You’re here to do as you’re told. Sit down and let’s start.”
Drummond introduced Mullins and the three people who’d been in the room first, calling them Team One: Mike Brassard, Erin Hoffsteader, and Sam Nguyen. Each of the three would be in charge of a different aspect of the investigation. He said he’d summarize the status of the investigation and call on some of them for reports after Ms. O’Shaunessy gave them her findings. She would take questions, but he wanted to let her get some sleep, so “keep the questions pertinent.”
Maybe the man wasn’t always an asshole.
Sherry gave a quick précis of what her coven had learned. Yes, the dagger held considerable death magic, and there were traces on Bixton’s body as well. They had