Page 95 of Cold Curses
“You can do suits,” said one of the forensic techs, pointing to the rack. “Check pockets, linings.”
I nodded but kept staring at the shoes, and then realized I wasn’t justlookingat them. I wasfeelingthem.
I pulled on a new pair of gloves, walked closer. Then closed my eyes, opened myself to the magic. That wasn’t difficult to do, standing in the middle of a demon’s wardrobe. Looking forunusualmagic amid the cloud of power that clung to the fabric was the tricky part.
I moved a hand across the shelves, forcing myself to focus on one pair at a time. And stopped when I felt a twang of something.
I opened my eyes, looked at a pair of forest green dress shoes with a reptile texture. Very carefully, I lifted one, looked it over, checked beneath the leather tongue for contraband. And was a little disturbed that I was putting a hand in a demon’s size thirteens. But an Ombudsman had to do what an Ombudsman had to do.
There was nothing in the shoe, so I turned it over. And light shimmered as it caught the gleaming copper ash embedded in the tread.
“I need an evidence bag,” I said. “I think I’ve got something.”
“What is it?”
I nearly jumped at Gwen’s voice. I hadn’t realized she’d sidled up right beside me.
“Good lord,” I said. “Don’t startle a woman holding a demon shoe.”
“Bet you’ve never said that before,” she said with a smile as she held out an open evidence bag. “What have you got?”
“Demon ash,” I said when the shoe and its mate and their residual evidence were safely sealed inside the bag. Then I flipped the package over, so she could see. “The copper kind.”
She looked it over with pursed lips. “Good. We didn’t see him at the empty lot or the Hyde Park shoot-out. But this puts him at a demon death site. Is that his magic?”
I wanted it to be. I wanted, needed, leverage to make him fix Lulu. But facts were facts.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “It feels different from the rest.”
“Can’t win them all,” she said, offering the bag to a tech who placed it carefully in the tub used to carry out what we found.
“It’s not enough,” I said.
“To nail him? Maybe not. But it’s enough to drag him in for questioning. Judges don’t like liars. Especially those with dead demon on their shoes. And we may find more.”
Raised voices echoed from the front room, and we left the techs to the hunt.
Four demons, including a couple I recognized from my prior condo visit, had entered. They were staring down two uniforms, including the petite one from earlier. The cops put on brave faces, but their fear permeated the air. And I was sure I wasn’t the only one who could tell.
“Problem?” Gwen asked, moving in, one hand on the butt of her holstered weapon.
“What are you doing in Mr. Dante’s place?” a demon asked.
“Executing a warrant,” I said, stepping beside Gwen. “Just as he asked us to do.”
“You got no right—”
“We have every right,” Gwen said, offering her screen with herfree hand. “A duly authorized warrant. We get to search and take what we want.”
Her smile went thin, and I imagined it had scared the attitude out of more than a few supernaturals and humans.
Unfortunately, demons were a different breed. One of them stepped forward or made a move to do so. But these were minions, not royalty, and I got there faster, had my sword at its throat.
“I wouldn’t,” I said, and bobbed my head toward the other cops in the room, who were all at attention and ready to draw down. That included former cops: Theo looked furious that the demon had even considered stepping toward Gwen.
“Even if they let you live,” I said, “interfering with a warrant will put you in supernatural lockdown. You’ve heard of the Feds’ new magic-siphoning containment cells, haven’t you?”
That put a hint of uncertainty in their expressions.
