Precinct 13 (19 page)

Someone had given me a damp washcloth for my face. The casing had not only bruised my cheekbone, but had given me a nasty burn as well. I leaned against the cool cloth, feeling worn out, even though they hadn’t even asked me more than the obligatory, “Are you okay?”

I’d murmured, “Yes,” but I was in shock.

Valentine was a dragon.

I’d known him for all these years, but I never suspected…No, that wasn’t true. I knew he was something special, magical, even. But I guess I always thought he was human.

Maybe he still was. After all, I had no idea if he was a human who transformed into a dragon or a dragon that turned into a man. Or if there was a difference.

The ice, now, that hadn’t surprised me at all. I’d always sensed
that
. If Valentine was going to be a dragon, it would be one of snow and cold. That suited him perfectly.

Denis cleared his throat. His clasped hands rested in front of him on the table. He’d brought in a leather-bound notebook or journal of some kind. It looked old and musty, but he’d put those little colored tape flags on various yellowed pages. He watched me calmly. He was clearly supposed to be the good cop to Jones’s bad.

“Jack tells us you introduced him as ‘Valentine,’ ” Denis said. “Do you know what he uses as a surname?”

I did, but I wasn’t feeling particularly cooperative. I may have just discovered that my lover was some kind of dragon, but I wasn’t entirely ready to tell all to the slayers and the cops just yet. Despite this incredible secret Valentine had
kept from me, we had a history together. Granted, it wasn’t always a good one; even so, the one thing I knew for certain about Valentine was that he’d never betray
me.
He’d had plenty of opportunities to throw me under the bus, tell everyone that what happened with my stepmom was all my fault, but he didn’t. He stood by me, even in the craziest times. I would do him the same courtesy. My mouth stayed firm and shut.

“This is very important,” Denis insisted. “If he is a Russian or Slavic dragon, we need to know if he is an
azdaja
or a
zmaj
.”

My surprise betrayed me. I couldn’t help but start at the last word, since I’d always known him as Valentine Zmajov. “
Zmaj?
You mean that’s a type of dragon?”

Denis let out a relieved breath, and turned to Jones. “It’s the better of the two—for us, at any rate. At least he’s not complete evil, or might not be. Some
zmaj
have even been known to protect cities. Probably for their gold, but…”

“Still a goddamn dragon,” Jones muttered, his eyes on me. “What were you doing with a dragon?”

I almost laughed.
Like I knew?
“Is it some kind of crime?”

Jones stopped pacing to rest his hands on the tabletop. He leaned in menacingly. “Do you know what dragons are capable of?”

Oh, I think I did. I’d just been remembering that night—the blood, the viciousness. Strangely, now I think I understood what Valentine had been implying at the Chinese restaurant a moment ago. If my stepmother could stop a dragon from killing her, she must be something pretty powerful.

I ignored Jones and turned to Denis. “Is there a demon strong enough to stop a dragon?”

“Maybe,” Denis said thoughtfully. “Mostly the successful opponents are angels or saints. I suppose if the demon is a fallen angel he could.”

“A fallen angel? You mean like a biblical angel?”

“There’s a lot of debate about that,” Denis said. “I tend to think not. But, talking to an angel is about as rare as surviving an encounter with a dragon.”

Jones’s face had grown redder and redder during our discussion. “I want to know what your relationship is with that dragon!”

“He’s my boyfriend,” I said. “Has been for years now.”

I figured that the stuttering breath that escaped Jones’s mouth was the sound of his brain exploding.

Denis, however, kept his cool. “How did you meet him?”

I opened my mouth to respond and realized that I didn’t actually know. I remembered the first moment I saw him: our eyes meeting on a crowded El platform, how amazing he’d looked, the temperature of the air, everything. But, had we really met like that? Like strangers? I was certain I’d known him before that moment, as if someone must have introduced us at a party at college or somewhere. We fell in together so naturally, talking like old friends meeting under new circumstances.

And, though I could picture that scene so clearly in my mind, I struggled to remember when it had been, exactly. Two years ago? Three? More?

Finally, I shrugged. “He just showed up when I needed him.”

Jones’s face had lost all its earlier color and his posture continued to deflate until he pulled out a chair and sank into it. If Denis noticed, it didn’t bother him. Denis continued,
“Were you traveling? Like through Ukraine or Serbia or Macedonia or Russia or somewhere in that area?”

The only time I’d been out of the country was a high school trip to Spain. “We met in Chicago, when I lived there.”

Denis shook his head in disbelief. “You met a Russian ice dragon in Chicago by chance?”

“No,” Jones said, his voice coming out as a choke. “You heard her. The dragon found her. She’s a witch, damn it. He’s her familiar.”

Apparently, that revelation was enough to take both Valentine and me off the Most Wanted list, because Jones got up and erased “dragon” from the list of cases. Denis made a note and stuck it in his journal, shook my hand, and told me how much he’d love to have a chat with Valentine sometime.

I smiled and nodded pleasantly enough, but thought,
Fat chance.

Because, despite how quickly Jones and Denis accepted this verdict, I had my doubts. “Familiar” seemed a much closer thing than Val and I had ever been, even on our best days. If I were Jones, I wouldn’t be so quick to write him off as something “tame” or anything that I had a chance of controlling. For people who were so informed about dragons, they knew jackshit about Valentine. And they were just plain stupid if they no longer considered him dangerous.

“Well,” Denis said, standing in the open office doorway.
A broad smile graced his round face. “This is one for the history books. I’ve never even heard of a natural with a dragon familiar.”

“That’s because most witches with dragon familiars aren’t natural at all,” Jones said from where he stood, studying the whiteboards, his back to me. “The only previous one was also half-fairy, and became the legend that is Morgan Le Fey.”

Denis’s eyes widened when he looked back at me. “Oh,” was all he said before suddenly finding somewhere else to be.

I glared at Jones’s back. If I were the evil hag he seemed to think I was I would have cursed him on the spot. Instead, I said through thin lips, “I think you’re a prejudiced bigot. I was told unnatural is just how the magic comes to you, not some kind of moral statement.”

“Tell me truthfully, Alex,” Jones said, turning around slowly to face me. “Is this Valentine of yours a model citizen? Have you stayed clear of trouble since he’s been in your life?”

I didn’t give Jones the satisfaction. Turning on my heels, I stalked off.

It was a lovely, dramatic exit. Unfortunately, it stalled out somewhere in the vicinity of the watercooler. I took the opportunity to wring out the washcloth and refresh it. When a flutter of black-and-white landed on top of the plastic jug, I nearly fell over in surprise.

“Sarah Jane,” I said happily. “You’re okay!”

Her talons skittered noisily on the slippery surface, but she nodded proudly. She took a few moments to preen her feathers.

“Yes,” I told her, and despite myself I smiled. “You were incredibly brave to take on a dragon.”

She fluffed her wings as if to say that it was no big deal.

Though I wondered why she had attacked him. Did she think Valentine a threat to me…or to Jack? My little white lie about my “friend in town” flitted through my memory. Maybe she thought Valentine was a rival for Jack?

“Is your partner hiding from me?” I asked her.

She shrugged both wings, but turned her sleek head in the direction of Jack’s desk. He had that deer-in-the-headlights look again when I spotted him, a large bite of a Subway sandwich half in his mouth.

I supposed I owed him a bit of an explanation. Not that I entirely understood the situation myself. Sarah Jane must have sensed my plan, because she soared across the room and landed on the back of his swivel chair. It took me a few extra minutes to cross the distance, but I took the opportunity to snag an empty chair and pull it across from Jack.

He hadn’t swallowed his mouthful, and his eyes bugged.

This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, then. I decided I might as well lay it all out for him. “Jones thinks Valentine is my familiar.”

He choked a bit, but seemed to get control of himself after a sip from a plastic soda bottle.

“I don’t quite buy it, though,” I continued. “He was white, right? I mean, I saw Valentine turn into a giant white dragon, didn’t you?” Jack nodded, so I continued, “I thought you said familiars were usually black.”

After clearing his throat with another sip, he said, “Usually black.” He nodded at Sarah Jane, who had hopped onto his desk and was pulling shiny paper clips out of a bowl and
dropping them into a pile. “And black
and
white. But white happens.”

“White happens,” I repeated, with a little frustrated laugh. “Kind of like: ‘Shit happens.’ ”

Jack looked shocked for a second, but then, seeing the smile on my face, broke into a light laugh as well. “Yeah, I guess so. Holy crap, huh? I mean, I take it you didn’t know. Otherwise you were an awfully cool customer when you asked about dragons before.”

“I had no idea,” I admitted.

“Dragons are like that,” he said. “I mean, at least by reputation. Tricks and disguises and riddles. They like games and mystery. But, you’d know more than me.”

“Are you kidding? I didn’t even know magic was real until yesterday.” Had it really only been twenty-four hours since all this started? No wonder I had a headache.

Jack gave me an understanding look as he chewed on his sandwich. I could smell onions and banana peppers.

Jack offered a sly smile. “You’re a witch. With a dragon familiar, no less.”

Sarah Jane lifted her tail and deposited her opinion of dragons in the middle of Jack’s desk.

“I guess so,” I said, trying to share Jack’s enthusiasm for the revelation.

Taking a Kleenex from his desk, he scooped up Sarah Jane’s gift. “It’s cool,” he assured me. “Once you figure out what kind of magic you have, you’re going to kick some serious butt.”

“What kind of magic I have?”

Jack nodded, and pointed to himself. “Technomagic.”

Sarah Jane found a binder among the pile of paper clips
she’d assembled. It was colored metallic pink. She dropped it on the desk, and turned it around with her foot, as if admiring it.

“Jones thinks I’m the next Morgan Le Fey.”

Jack started. “That’s so rude!”

I was glad to hear him think so, but I didn’t want to talk dragons or magic anymore. In fact, my mind felt overwhelmed, unable to process all the mixed emotions tumbling through it. When that happened, I tended to focus on work.

I cleared my throat. “So, uh, I came back to the office to give Jones my notes about the cow. My assistant found a vet who helped me confirm a few things, but now I need an expert in the supernatural to help me figure out what would have the kind of strength needed to crush a cow’s head.” I glanced over my shoulder at Jones’s office door. I could see him through the glass, filing some papers into a metal cabinet. “I’d talk to Jones about it, but, honestly, I’m kind of mad at him right now. Do you know who I could ask?”

“Well, what about me?”

Jack had never been in a morgue before, and seemed a little spooked at the prospect. He kept noticing all the drains and commenting on them. “I suppose that’s for blood, eh?”

Just to be a little mean, I said, “And other bodily fluids.”

He shuddered.

My assistant had disappeared without even so much as a note. Not that I had really expected Genevieve to hang around, but it disturbed me that she was so untrustworthy. God only knew what she’d run off to tell my predecessor. I probably should have fired her right away, but I was torn. It
wasn’t like I didn’t need help with the mundane aspects of this job.

The cow was exactly where we’d left it. As predicted, it had not reanimated and walked away. I was strangely disappointed, since the ice was in dire need of refreshing. The tarp had contained a lot of the melt, but areas of the floor had become slick with water and cow “runoff.” It was going to become unsanitary really quickly, if it wasn’t already.

Jack summed up the situation quite nicely. “Uh, disgusting!”

I shook my head. I needed to get rid of this thing. I wished I’d been more adamant with Jones this morning. The cow’s body belonged with the rancher, Olson, not me. “I really just need to keep the head at this point.” I sighed at the mess. “I suppose I’d better call the ranch and see if they can retrieve the body.”

“A dragon could carry it,” Jack said with a mischievous smile.

“And what? Drop it from the sky? In this state, it would go splat.”

“He could eat it.”

I made a face. “Are you trying to turn me off him? Because that is the grossest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Jack shrugged. “I was just thinking it would be expedient.”

It probably would. Olson must have written the meat off as a loss the moment he agreed to send it to the autopsy. Of course, knowing what I did about Jones’s ability to convince people with blarney or glamour or whatever it was, Olson might not even remember sending the cow our way. I gave Jack a sidelong look. “I don’t know.”

“You doubt he’s your familiar, right?”

I nodded. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“If he’s your familiar, he’ll come. Or, at least, he’s more likely to.”

I thought about all the times Valentine had been there when I needed him most. Was it true? According to Jack, all I had to do to find out was call. It was tempting because I also hated the way we parted. If he left for good, I’d never get a chance to ask him everything I wanted to know. Maybe I could catch him before he got too far away. “If I call Valentine, will you promise not to get all starry-eyed?”