Magic Breaks (Kate Daniels 7)
Page 22“You’re lying!” Jennifer spat.
Desandra shrugged. “Why would I lie? I recognize the scent. I smelled it before a couple of times, at the Keep and at the clan house. It’s not someone who is at the Keep often, but I know the scent and it’s one of ours.”
Anger and hate clawed at each other on Jennifer’s face. “Why are you doing this? What could you possibly gain from this?”
“I’m telling the truth,” Desandra said.
“This is one of your schemes, isn’t it? Not this time.”
The three wolves escorting Jennifer and the wolf render next to me simultaneously decided to look everywhere except at the two women. Behind them, Derek also pretended that nothing was happening. Ascanio rolled his eyes.
“Not this bloody time, do you hear me?” Jennifer’s voice spiked, picking up notes of hysteria. “No more plots, Desandra. No more Desandra Show.”
And Jennifer had just lost it in public. Awesome. Because that was what we really needed, to have this pissing match right this second in front of witnesses.
“Table it,” I said. “Back to Mulradin’s body.”
“Desandra’s right,” Robert said, his voice cold and precise.
We all turned to the alpha of the rats. He’d been so quiet, I had forgotten he was there.
“It’s a wolf,” he said. “I didn’t get a scent because the odor of blood was too thick, but I was close enough to see the wounds in detail. Mulradin had fought back. He must’ve grabbed at his attacker, because I saw fur stuck to his bloody hands. Wolf fur.”
Jennifer glared at him. It was like flicking a match at a glacier. Robert remained unperturbed.
“We need to find the killer before the deadline is up,” I said before she could freak out again. If we had the killer in custody, there was still a chance to defuse the situation.
“If he or she still lives,” Jim said.
Good point. If I were Hugh, I’d kill this wolf to make sure we couldn’t turn him or her over.
The question was asked in a mild tone, but I got the feeling a lot rode on how I answered.
“If the killer is apprehended, an investigation will be conducted within the Pack,” I said.
“And if found guilty?” Robert persisted.
“Robert, what are you really asking?”
Robert paused. “I’m asking about custody.”
“I have no intention of giving the People one of our Pack members for their burn-a-shapeshifter-alive party,” I said. “We don’t roll over when they stomp their feet. But we need to find whoever is responsible. We can’t act until we know what happened.”
“We need to examine the crime scene,” Jim said. “The body didn’t smell of wolfsbane.”
Wolfsbane was used to obscure the scent trail. Once a shapeshifter smelled it, even the best tracker would dissolve into sneezing fits. No wolfsbane meant a slight possibility that somewhere an intact crime scene waited for us and shapeshifters could read its scents like an open book.
“We don’t even know a crime scene exists,” Robert said. “They could’ve set it on fire.”
“No, it exists,” Barabas said.
“D’Ambray likes games,” Derek said. “He wants us to play.”
If there was a crime scene, where could it be? The blood on Mulradin’s body was fresh. “Desandra? Did you get an idea of how long he’s been dead?”
“I’d say less than two hours,” she said.
Jim nodded. “That sounds about right, but it would put Mulradin in the Casino at the time of death.”
My nose had six million olfactory receptors. A wolf’s nose had two hundred and eighty million. If Desandra said he had been dead a couple of hours, I was inclined to believe her, but there was no way a shapeshifter had walked into the Casino, murdered Mulradin, and walked out. I turned to Jim. “Are you sure he was in the Casino?”
“Not necessarily,” Robert said quietly.
Jim turned to him.
“Two weeks ago I got a report that one of my people saw him outside when he was supposed to be on call,” the wererat said.
“Where?” I asked.
“The Warren,” Robert said. “My scout saw Mulradin go into a building, but was unable to follow up because he had a different objective that night.”
“And were you planning on sharing that with the class?” Jim asked.
“There are a number of things the class chose not to share with us,” Robert said.
Clearly there was some tension there. “Which building in the Warren?” I asked.
“The scout didn’t specify.”
That narrowed it down about as much as pointing out which of the haystacks had the needle hidden in it. When magic wrecked Atlanta, it had stomped on the Warren, crushing entire streets. Anyone who could have moved, did. Now the Warren consisted of slums, populated by the destitute, criminals, and street kids, and it was huge.
“Can we ask the scout to narrow it down?” I asked.
Robert looked slightly uncomfortable. “Yes. But he’s at an observation post.”
“Where?” Please don’t say in the People’s territory.
“The People’s territory.”
This was not my night.
Robert shook his head.
Of course. The phone probably wouldn’t have worked with the magic up anyway. “I’ll need a small strike team to go in with me to find the observation post.”
“No,” Jim said. “You can’t go.”
“Overruled,” I told him.
“Kate!”
“Last time I checked I was in charge. Would you like to challenge me to settle this?”
Jim scowled at me.
“Very scary, but I’m still in charge. Robert, where is the observation post?”
“On Centennial Drive.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. “On Centennial Drive? Across from the Casino?”
Robert nodded.
Great. Sneak into the People’s territory, while Hugh has every vampire in Atlanta looking for anything with a tail or a saber, find a wererat who wanted to stay hidden, which was pretty much impossible, and then hightail it over to the Warren. Piece of cake. Let me just get my invisibility cloak and a teleportation device . . .