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The power plant was a vital component of the local utility grid, and any major crime in the area prompted precautionary measures. Even though there was no fire this time, an alarm had gone out, and a ladder truck idled on standby as a precaution.

As luck would have it, the truck was from Kevin Murdock’s station. He sat on one of the running boards, talking and laughing with his coworkers. As Briallen predicted, he was none the worse for wear from his deep sleep, probably better. His body signature glowed a deep bronze among the humans. He stopped laughing when he saw me. His face became a suspicious mask as he tracked my approach to the temporary police barrier.

Kevin, along with his brother Gerry, had decided I was the cause of the tragedies that had struck the Murdock family. I was present when their father—the former police commissioner—was killed. It didn’t matter to them that he was a dirty cop who had brought about his own downfall.

They blamed me. They also blamed me for destroying their family by having an affair with their mother. It had happened years ago, when I was young and green, hormone-filled and stupid. I didn’t even know the Murdocks then. Leo, who was the oldest, was still in high school then if I had my math right. I had no idea of the trouble the affair caused until years later. But they blamed me for that, too, despite the fact that their mother lied to her husband and initiated the affair. No one wanted to believe their parents were flawed human beings. Scott Murdock and Moira Cashel were as flawed as they come. I survived both of them, so somehow I was the villain.

I ignored Kevin’s stare as I waited for a police officer to let me through. Gone were the days when I sauntered past checkpoints, secure in the knowledge I had the authority if not the connections. Too much bad blood existed between me and the Boston P.D. these days. I hadn’t killed Scott Murdock, but that didn’t stop his son Gerry from encouraging the lie on the force. He wasn’t respected like Leo was, but that was what made him a problem. Gerry appealed to the rough edges of the blue, the cops who chafed at the rules. They saw criminality everywhere they looked and acted on it. I didn’t want to give them any more reason to pull out a Taser.

Leo waved me over to where the body lay. Not many other people stood near. The few people who were nearby kept their distance. Jumpers never made for pretty death scenes. The higher they fall from, the less pretty. The dead guy was a Danann fairy, so that mitigated the damage. Dananns have more resilient bodies than humans. He was still dead, though, his wings a tangled and torn mess, a leg bent at an angle legs weren’t meant to bend.

“We’re going to lose this one fast.” Wearing gloves, Murdock held open a small billfold that showed a Guild ID. The Guild might not take cases in the Weird any longer, but it protected its own. The last thing macGoren wanted was his allies on the police force investigating a murder that might expose Guild secrets.

I recognized the name and face of the victim. “He was a low-level administrator.”

I crouched by the bloody body. The strong whiff of alcohol wafted upward. Dananns had a propensity for whiskey. Back in Faerie, it wasn’t available in quantity, so drunkenness was more an accepted reprieve from the high life than a question of alcoholism. Not so in the post-Convergence world. Whiskey was everywhere, cheap and easy to acquire. More than a few Dananns ended up in the Weird because they had fallen to the bottom of a bottle.

“We’re trying to get clearance to check out the power-plant roof,” Murdock said.

I glanced up at the wall. The building was high enough to kill a Danann. “He smells pretty drunk. He might’ve passed out when flying overhead and dropped. You might have an accidental death.”

“Yeah, that happens to Guild agents all the time,” Murdock said.

Nothing with the Guild was ever simple. “Honestly, I’d call the Guild, Leo. They’re going to take over anyway.”

Murdock jerked his chin up toward something behind me. “Looks like someone decided to save us the minutes.”

Up the block, two dark figures appeared in the sky, telltale silhouettes of Danann security agents. They circled once overhead before landing on the sidewalk. I was surprised to see Keeva macNeve. She strode over and examined the body with a neutral expression.

“Hi, Keev. Nice of you to drop in,” I said.

She ignored me as she went through the dead guy’s pockets, tossing inconsequential items on the sidewalk—matches, coins, and receipts. Looking at Murdock, she remained crouched, her forearms on her thighs, hands dangling between her knees. “Where is it?”

Without argument, Murdock handed over the billfold.

“You got here awfully fast,” I said.

Keeva fanned out some business cards, then tucked them back in the billfold. “You’re not the only one with friends on the force, Grey. Mine happen to follow procedure and inform interested legal entities instead of their gym buddies.”

“Connor hasn’t been to the gym in weeks,” Murdock said.

Keeva stood. “You know the drill, Detective. Move along and thank your boys for me.”

“I remember this guy, Keeva. He was a Consortium mole. We used him a couple of times for disinformation,” I said.

She scanned the surrounding area. “Any other classified information you want to broadcast within earshot of uncleared staff?”

“You get a lot of moles in the Guild?” Murdock asked.

Keeva’s glance flashed with dismissiveness. “Why no, Detective. I’m shocked to hear it. How old did you say you were, by the way? I can’t tell if you’re wearing diapers under those pants.”

Murdock narrowed his eyes at me. “Did she imply she’s looking at my ass?”

“What’s with all the antagonism, Keeva? I mean, more than usual?” I asked.

The corners of her mouth turned down as she stared at the victim. “We’ve lost a lot of people, Connor. This guy may have been low-level stupid, but he was helping with disaster recovery. Every person lost is more work for everyone.”

“Well, maybe the Guild….” I began.

Keeva held her hand up. “Connor, I don’t want to hear one of your anti-Guild rants. Not today. People who were my friends are dead. People you knew are dead, so give it a break.”

I wasn’t going to go off on the Guild, but that Keeva thought that would be my first reaction under the circumstances was embarrassing. I guessed I had become a one-note ranter in her mind. “I was going to say maybe the Guild should beef up security. Donor Elfenkonig destroyed the Guildhouse, and now someone you need to manage the crisis is dead. That’s all I was going to say, to be careful.”

She nodded, peering down the street. “Good advice, considering you were there, too, when the Guildhouse came down. Leave, Connor. Now, before I do something we both regret.”

I took a deep breath. “How is Ryan?”

I tried to warn macGoren that Vize was up to something. I tried to stop what happened. MacGoren didn’t listen. He was arrogant, ambitious, and an ass. He had survived the destruction of the Guildhouse. He had also been injured—seriously, I had been told—but no one would give me any details.

Keeva fired up her hands with essence. “Alive, no thanks to you. Detective Murdock, explain to your friend that if he does not get out of here, I will incinerate him where he stands, and there is not a damned thing you and your badge can do about it.”

The police and firefighters nearby were listening. More than a few had smiles on their faces. Murdock tugged at my sleeve. “Come on, Connor. This isn’t going anywhere.”

I let him pull me away. I was more hurt than angry. Keeva and I had been partners. We might not have been the best of friends, but we got along, at least until she met macGoren. MacGoren’s injuries were his own damned fault, no matter what she had been told.

I slumped in the passenger seat of Murdock’s car. “That sucked.”

He started the engine and pulled away from the scene. “I think she was serious about incinerating you.”