Ley-line orientation at the time of death? I'd been out of the I.S. for a little over two years, and I'd already missed hearing about new technology.
"We'll try to locate where they held this man, but they've probably moved already," Nina said, glancing at the I.S. officers and the radio chatter below us. Two geeky living vampires at the bottom of the stairs with a gurney and a body bag fidgeted in the cold as they waited for us.
"We found enough evidence on the businessman's body to sensitize an amulet. It led to an abandoned site, thoroughly cleaned, but they left the cage so we'd know it was them."
Ivy slid from the railing with the papers securely bundled in her arms. I could tell she was not going to give them back. "They're laughing at you," she said mockingly as she started for the stairs, her motions slow and provocative. Crap on toast, she was intentionally goading the undead vampire, knowing he'd screwed up this run and rubbing his nose in his mistake. Either that or she just wanted to talk to the waiting techs.
"I know they're laughing at us," Nina almost growled, but she was watching Ivy's ass as she took the stairs, and Ivy knew it. Jenks flew in to land on Ivy's shoulder when she reached the sidewalk. He'd probably finished his investigation a while ago and simply hadn't wanted to get near the body again. I could understand. It was probably like being next to the rotting carcass of a blue whale.
"Can we see the previous sites?" I asked just to get the undead vampire's eyes off Ivy.
"If you like," Nina said, annoyed as she brought her attention back to me. "All the information you need is in the reports. There's evidence of at least four people involved in holding the victims." She looked at the hanging man and frowned, her fingers twitching, grasping for something unseen - a nervous tic belonging to an undead vampire. Curious.
I exhaled as I took in what Nina was saying. If they'd moved and dumped the body, then we had five days to find the next victim. Damn it all to hell, this is ugly. Somewhere in the city a terrified man or woman was being experimented on, turned into this . . . halfway thing.
Jenks left Ivy to make irritating yo-yo motions in front of me, his color high. "One guy and two women dumped this guy," he said proudly, and Nina's expression showed stark amazement. "That is, if you trust pixies," Jenks added snidely. "They came at four thirty-five in the morning, strung the guy up, finger-painted with blood from a bag, and left in a blue car. The local pixies didn't pay much attention to them. A guy with a dog found him thirty-seven minutes later, and the I.S. flunky responding hit him with a forget charm and sent him on his way. He's fine, but the dog is going to need massive amounts of therapy."
Nina looked livid, but I was delighted. It was probably the best intel we'd get, and more than the I.S. had gotten in over two weeks - if they were being honest with us, that is. Forget charms. I hated them, and I made a mental note to see if I could find anything in my earth-magic spell books that would counter one. I didn't want to take this run only to be charmed into forgetting everything when the I.S. had what it wanted.
"Nice going, Jenks," I said, unable to resist the dig. "We'll give you that for free, Nina."
The two vampires with the gurney and the folded body bag had started forward, and feeling a little better, I asked, "How long until the new tracking amulets made from the evidence here are ready?" I wanted to nail this coffin shut like yesterday.
Head down, Nina rubbed her chin. "Twelve hours," she said sourly, looking startled when she found her skin smooth and unstubbled. "I don't expect to get a ping from any of them. Ms. Morgan, is there a curse that you can perform to track them down faster?"
I lingered at the top of the stairs, the body hanging, ugly, behind me, the forbidding walls of the music hall peeping through the bare trees. Ivy was with one of the techs on the sidewalk, their heads close as they talked shop. Between us, radio chatter and the dull murmur of anxious cops filled the air. I'd had my look. I'd seen enough to get sick, scared, and now angry.
"Curse? No," I said, feeling cold as I gripped my shoulder bag tighter and took the stairs. I couldn't do a curse to save my life while wearing this band of charmed silver. "But if they're using this man's blood to stir spells to torture the next, you can find them with that using any old earth or ley-line charm."
I started down, and Wayde edged toward me, that same uneasy expression on his face. "It's a big city," Nina said, almost under her breath as she followed me down the stairs, her steps silent in her scratched knock-off heels. "Profilers think there are at least five people involved. Witches."
Witches killing witches? Not impossible, but something felt wrong to me. Jenks was dripping an angry red. "You can't find five psychotic witches?" he said caustically.
"It's a big city," Nina said again tightly. "Do you realize how many witches are in Cincinnati?"
Wayde glanced up at the body as he joined us, sliding close as the gurney vamps brushed past. "Uh, witches didn't do this," he said.
I turned to him as the gurney vamps stood before the body, discussing the best way to get the body down as they put on their protective gear. "But it is witch magic that did this," I said, and the pixy bobbed up and down.
"Witches did this," Nina said, her voice iron hard. "End of story."
Wayde's weight landed solidly on his front foot. "Witches would not use HAPA hate knots to tie him up."
What?
Nina spun to him, and Wayde jumped back at the snarl she wore, her pretty features drawing up into what was almost a hiss. Hunched, she glared at the nearby techs, who were suddenly white faced and apologetic, as if they were supposed to have removed the knots. Ivy was a blur between us, taking the steps two at a time to see for herself, Jenks right beside her, dropping swear words like red sparkles. I stayed where I was on the lowest step, suddenly a lot more scared as I looked at the cords and paled. Damn, he was right. I hadn't even noticed, but the ropes holding him up and spread-eagled were tied with the complex knots that HAPA had been known for, used for hanging witches, tying dead vampires in the sun, and quartering Weres in the nightmare four years of the Turn.
Slowly I sat on the lowest stair again, my back to the body. HAPA: Humans Against Paranormals Association. It was the fear of being dragged out into the street and burned by your neighbors made real, an extremist hate group that had gained a brief foothold during the Turn and advocated genocide for the very same people they'd lived next to and who'd taken great personal risks to keep them alive. It was believed HAPA had vanished years ago, but perhaps that's only what the I.S. had wanted everyone to think. By Nina's pissed attitude, I had the ugly feeling that the I.S. not only knew HAPA was alive and well but had been covering up its activity so they could take care of them the old-fashioned way.