said, “though the charm he’s wearing to conceal it does a pretty good job, so he might have more power than I think. A Water Gift, I believe. Isn’t that right, Mr. Parrott?”
No smile now, and at last Lily got that peek beneath the surface. Way down deep in those pleasant brown eyes lurked a predator who was not happy with Lily. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She shook her head sadly. “That’s not going to work. Sometimes people don’t know they have a touch of magic. When it’s not a strong Gift, it’s not that hard to suppress without knowing you’re doing it. But people who are unaware of their Gift don’t make or obtain a charm intended to hide it.”
Mullins blinked, looking stupider than ever. “I didn’t know you could do that. Make a charm like that, I mean.”
“I didn’t, either. It’s quite a remarkable thing for someone who opposes magic to possess.”
The pleasant expression stayed stuck to Parrott’s face like gum to the sole of a shoe, but he ran a hand over the perfectly styled hair. One with a plain gold wedding ring, again like the one the ghost had worn. Did all men’s wedding rings look identical? “This could ruin me. I’m asking you not to say anything, anything at all, about it.”
“I don’t out anyone unless I have to. Unless it’s essential to the investigation, whatever Gift or trace of the Blood people are concealing is their own—”
“I am not of the Blood.” His lip curled in disgust. “As for my Gift . . . yes, it’s quite minor. But I am not a hypocrite, Special Agent. Magic is wrong, an essential weakening of the tie between humans and our Creator. I had the charm made years ago for religious reasons. I wanted to suppress my Gift. Not to hide it, but to suppress it.”
That was . . . entirely possible. Maybe. When she’d shaken Parrott’s hand, she’d felt . . . not his magic, exactly, but the pressure of it, as if buried magic coursed beneath a null skin. The sensation of something flowing beneath an artificial skin was why she’d guessed at a Water Gift—a hidden one. But it was possible to suppress a Gift. Lily knew an empath who did just that with a spell. Parrott’s magic hadn’t felt the way the empath’s did, but maybe his charm operated differently. “You’d have to have the charm renewed from time to time.”
He grimaced. “Unfortunately, yes. I dislike it intensely, but I . . . I don’t feel I have much choice. I’ve been told there is no way to rid me of magic entirely, so I have to renew the charm.”
Mullins shook his head. “That’s tough. And working here with the senator, who disliked magic as much as you, maybe more . . . shoot, I bet he’d have fired you in a heartbeat if he found out.”
“He knew.”
Lily’s eyebrows climbed. “You’re claiming Senator Bixton knew about your Gift and kept you as his chief of staff?”
“I’ve been with him for fifteen years. Of course he knew. I confessed it to him years ago. He also knew about the charm. Bob is—was—a compassionate man. He respected the choice I’d made to suppress the trace of magic I’m cursed with.”
Naturally Lily tried to convince him to let them take the charm with them and have it tested. She wasn’t surprised when he refused. Either he was lying and it didn’t do what he said, or he was telling the truth and was worried about the state of his soul if he were parted from the charm.
He wouldn’t tell them where he went to have the charm renewed. That was a tad more suspicious, but he might not want to provide additional evidence of his Gift. He might even be protecting the practitioner he used the way he claimed. Lots of practitioners were wary of authority.
Lily left that interview unsatisfied. They let Bixton’s secretary know they were ready for the space she’d cleared for them, and she showed them to a small conference room. No windows, but it did have a pot of coffee. Lily headed there first. “Want a cup?”
“Never touch the stuff. What do you think?” Mullins pulled out a chair and sat. “He really tell Bixton his nasty little secret?”
“Maybe. If he didn’t and Bixton found out, it would make a dandy motive. Especially if he isn’t as suppressed as he claims.”