He wrapped his arms around my waist and stepped off the roof, holding me to his chest. A small part of my mind noticed that it was a very nice chest, and that his arms were well-developed. Too bad he hadn’t spent as much time exercising his mind.
The creature didn’t notice us at first, but we drew its attention when we were about ten feet from the ground. It scrambled out of the dumpster it had been rummaging through and stood facing us when we landed. As soon as Mychal loosened his grip on me, I drew my pistol.
“Hold it right there! Metropolitan Police. Lie down on your face with your hands above your head.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the shocked expression on Novak’s face. I think he expected me to blast the creature on sight, but one must observe the niceties. It might be someone’s pet, or someone’s brother. Besides, a cop never knew when a media drone might be recording from overhead.
“What for?” The creature’s mouth wasn’t really shaped for human speech, but its English was understandable. Its head was shaped a bit like a horse’s, and its mouth was filled with alligator teeth. At least seven feet tall, bipedal, and covered with long, silky fur, it had six fingers on its hands and six toes on its ape-like feet. From that close, and since it wore no clothes, it was obviously male. And purple. Did I mention purple?
“I’m arresting you on suspicion of murdering two humans this morning.”
“They interrupted my meal.” As if that was reason enough for murder. “I was just protecting my food.”
I prayed he hadn’t been eating another victim. Having to go through his belly to identify a person wasn’t my idea of a good time.
“What food?”
“The restaurant there puts out a box lunch for me every day. Tasty stuff.”
I envisioned the alley again and almost heaved. His idea of gourmet dining was the rotting food a pizza joint tossed into the dumpster.
“That’s not an excuse for murder. Now, lie down and give yourself up.”
He snarled and started toward me. I pulled the trigger, and the magikally enhanced explosive-incendiary round blew a hole in his chest the size of my fist. It rocked him but didn’t stop him. I heard Novak’s gun go off three times before I pulled the trigger again. My second round blew a large hole in the beast’s abdomen, and he stopped. He stood there swaying, then he snarled again, and his knees bent as he prepared to leap at me. My third bullet caught him between the eyes, and he fell in a heap.
“Call for forensics and have dispatch tell Tompkins that we got his murderer,” I said, holstering my sidearm and walking over to the monster crumpled on the ground. When I got closer, I found that it stunk like garbage, proving once again that we are what we eat.
I leaned closer. Novak was a pretty good shot. I could see where all three of his bullets had hit the creature in the chest, not that they had hurt it any.
Novak hung up his phone but didn’t seem to be inclined to inspect our kill any closer. I walked back to him.
“Let me see your gun.”
He handed it over. “Is this department issue?” I asked. It was a standard, unmodified nine-millimeter automatic with a twelve-cartridge magazine.
“Yes. It’s what I carried with narcotics.”
That didn’t make any sense to me at all. “I thought you were with narco in the Arcane Division.”
“That’s right.”
I was stunned. “What kind of cases did you work?”
“Drug trafficking. You know, people selling magikally enhanced drugs in schools and colleges. I helped break up that ring out in Howard County.”
Understanding dawned. He had worked upper-class cases. Humans dealing drugs to humans. Mages and witches enhancing drugs and peddling them to rich people’s kids. Soccer moms sharing magikal highs at the country club. That was a long way from the streets where I worked narcotics, and very different drugs. Not to mention very different drug dealers and mules.
“When we get back to the office, we’re going to trade this popgun in for something with some stopping power,” I said. “Carrying this will just get you killed.”
Chapter 4
Back at the station, I filled out my report and got ready to go home. I stopped to chat with someone in the hall, and as a result, I didn’t manage to make it out of the building before Whittaker caught up to me.
“Danica, Whittaker wants you in his office,” the desk sergeant said as I was making my escape.
“I just talked to him,” I said, and got a raised eyebrow in return.
“Unless you’ve added translocation to your repertoire, I’ve spoken to him since you did last,” the sergeant said.
So, I trudged back up the stairs and down the hall to Whittaker’s office. His door was partially open, so I knocked and stuck my head in.
“Sergeant James. Come in.” Whittaker wasn’t alone. Another mage sat in the chair I had vacated a few minutes before—a large man, and a little overweight, gray at the temples, wearing an expensive suit.
“I’m Justus Benning,” he said. He didn’t offer his hand. Mages usually didn’t.
“Close the door, Dani,” Whittaker said, motioning for me to take the other chair in front of his desk. “Mr. Benning’s daughter is missing, but he hasn’t been able to get Missing Persons to take him seriously. I’d like you to look into it. Quietly. Don’t ruffle any feathers in the basement.” The Missing Persons Bureau consisted of half-a-dozen prickly cops stuck in the basement of police headquarters, pretending to work and care about their work.
The Benning Family was one of the Hundred. Serious money and power. “How old is she?” I asked as I sat down.
“Seventeen. She didn’t come home from a school function two nights ago. The policemen I spoke to spent about fifteen minutes investigating, and said she
