Ritual Magic

the address he’d given them and have it blow up. She reminded herself to keep in mind that Friar might still have the knife, but she didn’t believe it. Her gut said he was genuinely, deeply pissed about having the knife stolen. “If he can go out-of-phase whenever he wants, he’s going to be hard to sink your teeth into.”
    “I’d have to be quick, wouldn’t I?” He said that softly, maybe because there were cops around them now. Maybe because he was warning his wolf not to linger over the kill.
    “T.J.,” she said as he turned to look at them, “I’ve got to go. Woo-woo stuff.”
    His eyebrows lifted. “You and Turner taking all your sniffers with you?”
    “I am, yes,” Rule answered without stopping.
    As they reached the trail, Cullen pulled ahead and Rule dropped behind. No room to go abreast. Together all three of them shifted into an easy lope. Lily couldn’t take the trail fast, not at night . . . but she wanted to. She wanted to race as fast as she could. She felt twitchy, as if she’d drunk way too much coffee.
    Nerves. Jitters. This wasn’t like her. Normally at this point in an operation she’d be tense but focused—on what she was doing, what her next step needed to be. She had the tense part down. It was focus she lacked. She couldn’t seem to get her mind to pay attention. “If Friar doesn’t have the knife, he means to use us to get it back. Once we get it away from Miriam, he’ll try to take it.”
    “I’m still trying to work out how we’ll get it away from Miriam.”
    “There is that.” Maybe that’s why she was so jumpy. They didn’t have a plan. Showing up was necessary, but it wasn’t a plan. Only she couldn’t think of where to start.
    They hit the first sharp bend. Scott and Mike joined them. Rule told Scott to have the rest of the men meet them at the cars.
    From a few feet ahead of them, Cullen said, “Polyester.”
    “What?”
    “The contagion couldn’t pass through inorganics, and it came from the knife, so maybe the knife has trouble working through inorganics. We need polyester.”
    “I’ve got latex gloves.”
    “That’s a start. We need more.”
    Lily’s phone started on the opening bars of the polka tune she used for Karonski. She pulled it from her pocket just as Barnaby joined them at the rear. “Yes?” Her heart kicked once and started pounding, which made no sense. She could run at this pace a lot longer without her heartbeat going crazy.
    “Fairchild’s not at her condo. I’ve got an APB out. Can you get over here? I’d like you to check the place out with your magical fingers. Maybe Rule could sniff around, too.”
    “Can’t. I’m headed off on . . . urgent Unit business.”
    He was silent a moment. “I see. Advise me when you can.”
    “Will do.” She disconnected, feeling vaguely dizzy.
    Karonski had known what she meant right away when she said “Unit business.” She hadn’t referred to the legal Unit Twelve, whose investigation he was heading, but to the one that operated in the shadows. The Shadow Unit.
    Cullen was right. They couldn’t touch the knife. They had to stop Miriam from using it, but they couldn’t touch it. It would be best if they didn’t get near it. And that was why she’d had trouble focusing. She didn’t want to go where the facts led her. But her unconscious had gotten there just fine, without the rest of her noticing. She’d told Karonski this was now something for the Shadow Unit to handle. That, in effect, she planned to act outside the law.
    The best way to stop Miriam without getting close was obvious, wasn’t it? Shoot her from a distance. Don’t risk letting the knife take over any of them. Kill Miriam and leave the knife wherever it fell. Maybe have Cullen put up wards around it. Keep everyone away—could they leave Hardy near to keep an eye on it?—until Sam got back with the Queen’s Hound.
    Lily had killed to save her own life. She’d killed to stop someone from killing others. But to kill someone who was a victim herself . . . Miriam had been taken over by the knife or by the god it was linked to. Just like Officer Crown. That made her a victim, not a bad guy. Could making Miriam a victim twice over possibly be the right thing to do?
    Lily wasn’t sure. She was deeply, desperately unsure. Stack up the fate of the world against one woman’s life, and it ought to be obvious. It wasn’t.
    Ruben had put her in charge of the Shadow Unit’s role in this because she