“Clever,” I said.
“Why?” Eldritch asked. He’d worked the Arcane beat for years, but he was still a Mundane. Sometimes the intricacies of the craft eluded him.
“The gray wolf is the alchemical symbol for antimony,” Gardner explained.
“Shit,” I said. “If this stuff takes off, we’re toast.” From what I’d seen, Gray Wolf created both immunity to defensive magic and a ravenous craving for human flesh. Plus it acted incredibly fast on the user’s body chemistry.
“And now that Harkins is dead, we’re back at square one,” Gardner said.
My stomach dipped. I didn’t regret killing Harkins, but I was sorry my actions made getting the potion off the streets more difficult. “How can I help?”
“Nothing beyond a detailed report on your altercation with Harkins. Maybe you saw something we can use.”
I nodded absently. “You mentioned that you thought Gray Wolf was alchemical. Does that mean you had a wizard analyze the ingredients?”
“Yes, off a blood sample we gathered at one of the crime scenes. But our team’s wizard has only had a chance to do preliminary tests.”
I chewed on my lip. I’d love to get my hands on that sample to figure out what made Harkins change so quickly. A new thought arrived hot on the heels of that one. “Wait, do you have any BPD officers on your task force?”
Since the 1980s, the MEA had been partnering with local police agencies by bringing local cops in on cases. It benefited the agency because it got access to locals who understood the dynamics of their cities, and the cops benefited because the MEA paid generous overtime. In other words, if they were hiring, I wanted in.
Gardner frowned at the change of subject. Then she exchanged a glance with Eldritch.
“I’m putting together a list of candidates,” he said, not meeting my eyes. Translation: I wasn’t on it.
“Look, I know you don’t know me from Adam,” I said. “But I’d love a chance to consult on this case.”
Her eyebrows rose at my audacity. When she didn’t laugh, I forged ahead.
“I was the last one to see Harkins alive”—I counted the reasons off on my fingers—“I grew up in the Cauldron, and, as we’ve already covered, I was raised in the Votary Coven.”
She glanced at Eldritch, who suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “Officer Prospero, I wouldn’t need extra bodies on my team at all if you hadn’t killed my star CI tonight.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
“She’s right, though,” Eldritch said, shocking the hell out of me. “She knows these streets. Plus, when you asked for that list you said you wanted Adepts. There are only a handful on the force.” Usually Adepts in law enforcement went the CSI route because of the lab work.
Gardner raised a brow. “So why wasn’t she on the list already?”
Eldritch glanced at me with an expression that put me on edge. “Leave us.”
“Sir, I—”
“Go.” His voice was quiet but held a thin edge of steel.
Gardner didn’t smile or send me any other sign of encouragement. “We’ll call you back.”
I shot Eldritch a pleading glance before I walked out the door. I was pretty sure Eldritch wanted me to leave so he could tell her I wasn’t ready for MEA-level work. After all, I was just a beat cop. Usually detectives and officers already members of special Arcane units got the sweet gigs on MEA task forces.
The other officers in the bull pen were doing a minimally convincing job of looking busy. But the instant I exited the office, the energy in the room shifted.
I crossed my arms and leaned against a metal desk. Inside the office, Eldritch was talking. Gardner listened with her arms crossed. Every muscle in my neck was so tight it cramped. The more I thought about my idea to join the team, the more I wanted it to happen.
Promotions were rare and incredibly competitive in the department. Thus far, I’d been told that my background in the covens wasn’t a factor in being passed up. Instead, the excuses were always that I fell a hair short of the top score on the test or that someone else was just more qualified. But with each missed opportunity, I grew more restless. After five years, busting hexheads and the occasional corner kid felt like playing Whac-a-Mole. But being on a task force would let me be where the real action was happening. I’d be going after the supply side of things—potion cookers and the coven wizards.
“Yo, Prospero?” A deep voice called from behind me. Guess the other cops got tired of watching and had decided to drum up some drama by shit-talking.
I ignored them and started chewing on my right thumbnail. Was Eldritch arguing for or against me? I couldn’t tell from Gardner’s body language, which hadn’t shifted at all.
“I heard you shot a guy in the dick,” another baritone called. “That true?”
“Why?” I didn’t turn around. “You want a demonstration?”
Male chortles echoed from the break room nearby. The swoosh and thump from the potion vending machine hinted that one of my colleagues was helping himself to a late-night energy potion. I always found it ironic how many cops justified using clean magic to fight the dirty kind. Then again, most cops weren’t Adept, so it was easier to compartmentalize magic into a good camp and an evil one. Black versus white, legal versus illegal. Hell, the Big Magic corporations claimed their government-sanctioned potions weren’t even addictive, which they “proved” using studies they themselves had funded. But anyone who cooked potions could tell you the line between the two was little more than vapor. Whether you used it with good intentions or ill, magic was magic, and instead of being black or white, most of it was smoke-screen gray.
Just then, Gardner’s head swiveled and she stared right at me through the window. I met her gaze without flinching. Whatever Eldritch had just told her put that speculative gleam in her eyes.
Movement behind me. One of the knuckleheads decided he’d bring the bullshit to me instead of yelling across the room.
“Did you really chase the guy into the Arteries?”
I turned to see Officer Michael Hanson. He was nice-enough-looking for an idiot. While I got a lot of BS from my colleagues for being an Adept, most grudgingly accepted that I was decent at my job; Hanson always found a way to remind me that magic made me an outsider. Ironic since his utility belt was weighed down by enough protection amulets to choke a dragon.
“No,” I snapped.