Lupi 08 - Death Magic

a small crowd in the hall near the designated conference room. Lily recognized two of them: Doug Mullins and Sherry O’Shaunessy. Everyone glanced her way. Mullins frowned. Sherry smiled.
    Sherry O’Shaunessy looked like a young, upscale grandmother, except for her hair. That was gray and reached past her hips when down; today she wore it in a braid coiled on top of her head. Her cheeks were chubby, her smile contagious, and her Gift was Water. She was one of the most powerful witches in the country, and the High Priestess of the Wiccan coven the Unit kept under contract.
    This morning, she looked tired. Lily went to her. “Good to see you. You didn’t pull an all-nighter, did you?”
    “I’m afraid so. That’s not as easy as it once was. Did you—”
    Mullins interrupted. “He wants you inside, Yu.”
    In Mullins’s world, “he” had to mean Drummond. Lily nodded at him and said to Sherry, “I’ll see you inside, I guess.”
    Sherry took Lily’s hand and gave a little squeeze. Water magic felt like the element it drew upon, but there were variations. Sherry’s magic evoked the ocean for Lily rather than rain or brooks or deep pools. She could almost smell the salty spray. “I’m glad you’re working on this one, dear.”
    “Inside,” Mullins repeated, scowling.
    Sherry smiled at him. “Your name is Doug, I think?”
    Mullins blinked and looked conflicted, no doubt trying to resist the urge to smile back. Satan himself would find it hard to resist Sherry’s smile. “Doug Mullins, yes, ma’ am.”
    She patted his arm. “Not everyone is able to offer the proverbial spoonful of sugar, but we can at least avoid pouring vinegar over everything.” She looked at Lily. “Doug is guarding the door. I’m afraid he’s been a bit abrasive, but he does have orders.”
    “I guess I do, too.” Lily gave her a nod and headed for the closed door.
    The conference room was large enough for a table that could seat up to thirty people. At 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