There wasn't any time to waste—but I gave the kid a few seconds of space while I tried to let my head cool off.
The door to Marcone's building opened. Hendricks came out.
Marcone followed him a moment later. He surveyed the damage. Then he glanced at me. Marcone shook his head, took a cell phone from his suit pocket, and went back inside, while Hendricks kept me pinned down with his beady-eyed scowl.
What I'd seen soulgazing Helen Beckitt was still glaringly fresh in my mind—just as it always would be. Marcone had looked a lot younger when he wore his hair longer, less neat, and dressed more casually. Or maybe he'd just looked younger before he'd seen Helen's daughter die.
The thought went utterly against the pressure of the rage inside me, and I grabbed hold of myself while I had the chance. I took a deep breath. I wouldn't do anyone any good if I charged in full of outrage and absent of brains. I took another deep breath and turned to find Murphy on the move.
She walked around the car and faced me squarely.
"All done?" Murphy asked me, her voice pitched low. "You want to smoke a turkey or set fire to a playground or anything? You could terrorize a troop of Cub Scouts as an encore."
"And after that, I could tell you all about how to do your job, maybe," I said, "right after we bury the people who get killed because we're standing here instead of moving."
She narrowed her eyes. Neither one of us met each other's gaze or moved an inch. It wasn't a long standoff, but it was plenty hard.
"Not now," she said. "But later. We'll talk. This isn't finished."
I nodded. "Later."
We got in the Beetle and Murphy started it up and got moving. "Ask you questions as we go?"
I calculated distances in my head. The communion spell with Elaine had been created to reach over a couple of yards at the most. It had mostly been used at, ahem, considerably shorter range than that. I could extend the range, I thought, to most of a mile—maybe. It wasn't as simple as just pouring more power into the spell, but it was fairly simple. That gave me a couple of minutes to steady my breathing while Murphy drove. I could talk while that happened. It would, in fact, help me keep my mind off my fear for Elaine. Ah, reason, banisher of fear—or at least provider of a place to stick my head in the sand.
"Go ahead," I told her. I paid no attention to Molly, giving the kid time to think over the lesson and to get herself together. She didn't like anyone to see her when she was upset.
"Why do you think your ex is in danger?" Murphy asked. "Shouldn't this Skavis just run off if it knows you're onto it?"
"If it was operating alone, sure," I said. "That would be the smart thing. But it isn't running off. It's making a fight of it."
"So… what? It has help?"
"It has rivals," I said.
"Yeah. Grey Cloak and Madrigal Raith." Murphy shook her head. "But what does that mean?"
"Think in terms of predators," I said. "One predator has just gotten its teeth into something good to eat."
"Scavengers?" Murphy said. "They're trying to take the prize from him?"
"Yeah," I said. "I think that's what they're doing."
"You mean Elaine?" Murphy said.
I shook my head. "No, no. More abstract. The Skavis is methodical. It's killing women of magical talent. It doesn't have to do that to live—it can eat any human being."
"Then why those targets?" Murphy asked.
"Exactly," I said. "Why them? This isn't about food, Murph. I think the Skavis is making a play for power."
"Power?" Molly blurted from the backseat.
I turned and gave her a glare that quelled her interest. She sank back into the seat. "Within the White Court," I said. "This entire mess, start to finish, is about a power struggle within the White Court."
Murph was silent for a second, absorbing that. "Then… then this is a lot bigger than a few killings in a few towns."
"If I'm right," I said, nodding. "Yeah."
"Go on."
"Okay. And remember as I go that White Court vamps don't like their fights out in the open. They arrange things. They use cat's-paws. They pull strings. Confrontation is for losers."
"Got it."
I nodded. "The White King is supporting peace talks between the Council and the Red Courts. I think the Skavis is trying to prove a point—that they don't need peace talks. That