CHAPTER 5

Carol sniffed, wrinkling her nose at the odor of stale bodies, rotting flesh, old blood, and magic. Strong magic. Wrong-smelling, foul, and filled with the coppery scent of blood, it almost overpowered the sweaty smells of an athletic field. The closer they got to home plate, the stronger the smell became. “This is definitely an MCU case, Jonah.”

He nodded brusquely. Even she understood that you didn’t move the body until the CSI guys had gone over the scene with a fine-toothed comb. She doubted they’d had the time to do more than park their van, so why had the detectives released the body to the coroner?

The soft hum of voices caught her attention. She touched Jonah’s arm to get his attention. “Over there.”

“I see them.” He diverted their path to the dugout, where a man and a woman were standing over a much younger man. The young man was slumped on the bench, his hands clenched between his knees, his hair covering his face. One of the officers was pointing at him while the other wrote in a notebook.

“They think he did it?” She could scent the animal on the man.

She’d known a few of that species in her time. The poor familiar wouldn’t hurt a fly unless someone were trying to infringe on his territory. She highly doubted that was the case here. He’d be more likely to go after a romantic partner or someone who was bullying his sorcerer. “He’s a fucking

cockatiel.”

Jonah stopped in his tracks. “Why is that important?”

She stared at him. “Predators are considered dangerous for a reason, Jonah. We’re more aggressive than the prey species, more likely to hurt or

even kill in anger, though it’s rare. A cockatiel familiar, however, likes nothing better than hanging out with his friends, singing and whistling, and eating seeds. The only time they get aggressive is when their territory is under attack, and he’d consider his sorcerer as part of that territory.”

He blinked, seemingly stunned. “Just like wild cockatiels?”

She’d thought he was well versed in how close familiars were with their beasts, but apparently not. “And pet cockatiels.” She shook her head. “They get scared easily too. A cockatiel rarely kills. It’s just not in them.

They’re herbivores. They don’t have that killer instinct a predator species would have.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Then we need to inform the fine detectives that they need to back the fuck away. You think he was the sorcerer’s

familiar?”

Carol shrugged. “He’s the right age, and the cops are talking to him.

I’d say yes.”

Jonah began walking forward once more. “I’ll deal with the detectives. You find out what you can from the familiar. He’s more likely to talk to you if he’s been…rigorously questioned.”

“Gotcha.” Carol strode beside him, ready to defend her sorcerer should the two detectives become hostile.

“Detectives?” Jonah’s voice was cold. His legs were apart, his hands clenched at his sides. It looked like he was ready for battle, but why? Jonah could kick both their asses, unless one of them was also a sorcerer. She sniffed, but neither of them carried that special scent that indicated mana resided within them.

Carol caught a clue as the two turned around, wearing equal

expressions of annoyance and anger. Neither of them seemed to notice her at his side, but considering they were detectives she doubted they hadn’t

caught sight of her. They were just ignoring her, focusing on the bigger fish in their little pond. There must be friction between Homicide and MCU.

She slid closer to Jonah, watching the two detectives warily.

“I’m Detective Jonah Sound, MCU, and this is my familiar, Carol Voss.” Carol turned over her wrist as Jonah held up his shield. “I’m here to investigate the murder.”

“This isn’t an MCU case,” Detective Wheeler growled.

“I beg to differ.” Carol held her ground as the two detectives turned their glares on her. Jonah was right, and she could back him up. “I’m a wolf familiar. I can smell the magic all over this field.”

Detective Wheeler backed up a step, distrust and fear stamped on his features. Detective Ridgely stiffened, her hand drifting toward her sidearm.

Carol backed up a step. Apparently, the two detectives feared predator familiars. Unfortunately, there was always the chance for violence, but rarely was the familiar the one who initiated it.

“Of course, you can smell it,” Detective Ridgely replied snidely.

“This college has magical classes. You can probably smell it everywhere.”

Carol shook her head, keeping her movements slow and easy. She didn’t want to spook them any more than she already had. “I’m sorry, but

the magic I’m concerned about is concentrated over by home plate, and it’s almost definitely blood magic.” Her teachers in the academy had used a tool that could imitate the scents of certain types of magic. This one was

impossible to forget. In fact, she found it slightly nauseating, but she wasn’t going to tell them that. She focused on Jonah, who was scowling fiercely at the two detectives. “I think the last of his magic was bled away there.”

“I’ll cast some spells and see what I can come up with.” Jonah turned to the detectives, who were appearing less annoyed and more

concerned, probably for themselves. They had to be aware that if this was an MCU case, their actions had jeopardized the investigation.

“This is our case,” Detective Ridgely said with far less venom than her earlier statement. She’d relaxed slightly, but her gaze remained glued to Carol as if Carol would jump her at any moment. “MCU can’t just waltz in here and steal it.”

Jonah shook his head. “I’m sorry, but facts are facts.” He crossed his arms over his chest, apparently ready to stand his ground.

“He was stabbed to death, and it was made to appear to be an MCU case,” Wheeler added, glaring at Carol. His fear was palpable, in his stance, his expression, even his scent, bitter and venomous.

Jonah moved, putting himself between Wheeler and Carol. “My familiar isn’t a threat, Detectives.”

Carol growled, just low enough that only Jonah could hear it. She didn’t like that he’d put himself in potential danger, but she held her place. In this battle, as an MCU detective, he had far more power than she did.

Jonah remained where he was. Either he hadn’t heard her, or he was ignoring her. “I’m afraid not. I’ll need the vic’s familiar to talk to mine

while I go over the crime scene.”

The two detectives glanced at each other, their expressions inscrutable. Ridgely finally replied, her tone uncertain. “The sniffer didn’t detect anything.”

Sniffers were magic detectors built for those without magic of their own. Most police, firemen, and rescue personnel were trained in their use, but that didn’t mean they were infallible.

Carol snorted disgustedly. She’d learned all about sniffers in the academy and how they were supposed to be used by detectives without delicate noses like hers. “Because you didn’t read it properly. There’s

ambient magic here, so you just stopped at that reading instead of allowing the sniffer time to work.”

The detectives seemed thoroughly aggravated once more, possibly because she’d dared to speak up. “The sniffers should have picked up any kind of magic if it was concentrated,” Detective Wheeler grumbled. He seemed a little more at ease now that Jonah stood between them.

Carol tapped the side of her nose. “Well, this sniffer will go talk to the poor familiar of our victim while you guys hash the rest of this out.”

She didn’t bother waiting for a response. She took a step around the flabbergasted detectives, squaring herself in front of the cockatiel familiar and blocking their view of him.

“Hi.” In deference to his nature, she kept her tone friendly. “What’s your name?”

The guy was visibly shaking, his arms trembling so violently she was afraid she’d manage to break his bones. “Ronnie. Ronnie Stewart.”

Carol smiled, hoping to put the poor guy at ease. “I’m Carol Voss. I work with that guy.” She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb at Jonah. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask you some questions. Is that okay?

“Yeah. Sure.” Ronnie glanced up at her through the fall of his hair. “But I’m not sure if I can be of any help.”

“It’s okay. We’ll do this as slow as you need, all right?” Ronnie nodded once more, so Carol began asking her questions. “Can you tell me what you saw?”

Ronnie shook his head. “I was in class when I felt him die.” He shuddered. “Louis was my best friend. We were going to stay bonded forever.”

Shit. He would have suffered from the bond snapping the moment

his sorcerer died. “The pain must have been terrible.” Carol took a seat next

to him and pulled out a small recorder. She didn’t have a notebook. She preferred to have words as they were spoken rather than short notes. She’d used the same recorder in college. She’d transfer the file to her laptop when she was home.

For a moment, she jolted. Home was no longer her House. Home

was now back at Jonah’s place, in a comfortable room that was as sterile as a hotel room.

“It was,” Ronnie replied, shivering. If he’d been in cockatiel form his crest would have been completely raised, his feathers flat against his body, the signs of an upset, scared, or startled cockatiel.

“Can you tell me when you sensed his death?” Carol glanced toward Jonah. He was walking away from the two detectives, heading for home

plate and some numbered evidence identification markers. He’d exchanged his notebook for his wand. His magic pulsed along their bond as he began to channel their combined energy.

“Around six last night.” He wiped away a tear. “I tried to tell the

campus police that something was wrong with Louis, but they didn’t listen to me.”

“Ugh. This is exactly why I wanted to go into law enforcement,” Carol muttered. Sorcerers were always listened to; familiars, rarely. “Can you tell me his full name? The boys in blue didn’t bother telling me.”

He sniffled and nodded. “Louis Reeves.”

“Thank you.” She glanced over and caught sight of Wheeler and Ridgely talking to each other. Their hands were flying and their expressions absolutely furious as they glanced between her and Jonah. She did her best to ignore them, but it was hard when they both kept turning to glare at her. “So, you tried to talk to campus police. What happened when they brushed you off?”

“I called the police.” He shook his head. “They said they couldn’t search for him until he’d been missing for forty-eight hours because he’s an adult.”

“The laws need to be changed where familiars are concerned.” Far too often they were treated as extensions of their sorcerer only when it was convenient. The law was still ambiguous where the sensations fed through a familiar-sorcerer bond were concerned. A landmark case against familiar bond sensations was the rape of a woman by a sorcerer. The familiar attempted to report it to the police even though he wasn’t present. He’d been aware of the attack through their bond. The police failed to respond until after the woman managed to escape her attacker and get to a police station. The courts had stated that, while the familiar had done the right thing by trying to turn his sorcerer in, without corroborating evidence, the

police couldn’t act on the “feelings” of a familiar.

Carol hoped someday to help change that law. “Did you try calling

him?”

“It went straight to voicemail.” Ronnie bit his lip. “I tried to find

him using our bond, but it was gone. There was nothing to follow.” “Which meant waiting for him to be found.” Carol rubbed his

shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” He was folded in on himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his middle. “I just wish I’d felt something before he died. I might

have been able to find him, save him.”

“Yeah.” She touched his left wrist, and he flipped it over, showing her the available written in magic letters. “This sucks rocks.”

He gave a bitter chuckle. “You said it.”

She stood and grabbed her recorder. “Can you think of anything else you think I or the police should know?”

He stared up at her, his head tilted at an almost boneless angle. It

was always a little freaky when bird familiars did that. “Tell those two to go to hell for me.”

She nodded. “I will.”

The poor bastard had a right to be angry. The laws were written by humans, the majority race. Humans just didn’t understand how the contract worked between familiars and sorcerers. Hell, they were responsible for the Burning Times, where humans, dimens, shifters, merfolk, and all sorts were burned at the stake simply for being different. The ensuing years had shown that the majority of magical folk, both native to Terra Mundus and interdimensional, just wanted to live their lives in peace. Interdimensional beings, aka dimens, weren’t that different from their human counterparts.

Mostly. The jury was still out on infernal beings, the real demons, that walked the earth. The denizens of Terra Infernum could be a bit

malicious at times.

Carol headed toward Jonah, who was kneeling by home plate and

one of the evidence cones. She stopped and crouched next to him. “He says he became aware that the vic had died at six last night. Despite the fact that he reported it to campus security, no one would investigate his whereabouts because the law involving familiar-sorcerer bonds sucks.” She sighed. “I taped the interview; you can listen to it and find out if I missed anything.”

“Good work.” Jonah held out his hand, a square piece of paper in it. “Here. Give him my card. Tell him to contact me if he or any of his friends find themselves in similar circumstances.”

“Got it.” She went to Ronnie and delivered Jonah’s message.

Ronnie stared at her. It seemed he couldn’t believe Jonah. His glance at the two homicide detectives explained why. “Do you believe him?”

She glanced back at Jonah, who was talking once more to the two homicide detectives. Man, he was pissed. She made a judgment based on what she’d observed of him combined with his family’s reputation for fairness. “Yup.”

Ronnie slipped the card in his pocket without another word.