Alive was good. Far better than I’d thought two hours ago.

  Alive would’ve been better if a hundred dwarves weren’t indulging in a cheerful jig in my skull.

  I shoved the box, letter from Monique, and book back in their hiding spot and got the microwave going on dinner. Leaning against the counter and rubbing my aching head, I wished I was brave enough to use a charm for the headache.

  Better judgment insisted I skip the charm. The excitement with the Deyr had left me magic-blind. Right now, I couldn’t feel either source of power, and if my head had hurt less, that would have probably concerned me more.

  The microwave beeped. Maybe after food I’d find it in me to worry about the lack of magic. While eating dinner, I wasted a few choice words on my long-dead mother, and I briefly considered raising her just to tell her how terrible of a job she’d done. Too bad she’d been cremated.

  By the time I had finished eating, the throbbing had abated enough that I could still feel both pools of magic and enjoy some entertainment. I turned on a documentary about magical plants while I sorted the mail.

  Three junk letters and two bills later, I saw it. A square envelope rather than a rectangular one, no return information, and my address printed on a label.

  This was the last thing my night needed. Another letter from him.

  Bracing myself, I peeled it open. Sunflowers bordered the stationary, just like they had in every letter.

  It began as they always did.

  Hello, Beautiful.

  Time, and the experience of opening these Narzel-blasted letters for six years, had dampened the revulsion, but I hoped to never hear a man call me beautiful.

  Congratulations on making Special Agent. You deserve it, but don’t let them work you too hard. You’ve been looking tired lately. Take some time and pamper yourself. You can’t be at your best when you’re tired.

  Yours Truly

  Like usual, it lacked a name. That had bothered me for the first year, but now what bothered me were the details. The TBI didn’t publish their agent’s names or make announcements when someone moved from trainee to agent. How had my stalker gotten this information? One of these days, he’d make a mistake, but not today.

  For the first year, I’d dutifully reported the letters. The police had figured out he had used a variety of common printers and that he’d posted the letters from all over Nashville. Helpfully enough, my stalker hadn’t left any saliva or fingerprints behind. I’d checked for magic, and they hadn’t had that either.

  P.S. Fabian’s steering wheel cover is starting to show its age.

  Great. I’d be getting a package soon. It could go in the box with the other stuff he’d sent that I wasn’t willing to use.

  I tossed the letter back onto the coffee table and turned down the volume on the TV. The headache, which I blamed on Monique, hadn’t gone away. Slumping against the couch, I flipped through the channels, looking for something happy.

  I had 99 problems, and my stalker was 98.

  ***

  “Pine, it’s Agent Mitchell. I’ve got another case that needs your attention.”

  “It’s four in the morning,” I groaned. At least I’d slept long enough for the headache to go away, and both pools of magic were back. “Whose bad side did you end up on to get stuck with endless night shifts?”

  “You’re funny.” Fatigue laced her voice. “I’m looking at a deer, or what’s left of one, that bears a striking resemblance to the body we looked at two days ago.”

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  “Narzel…” I scrambled out of bed. “Send me the address. I’ll be there as soon as I can, and I’m sorry about the night shift joke. Forgot you’re a dark elf.”

  “Thanks, and don’t worry about it.” She hung up.

  A moment later, my phone dinged with an address not far from my place, along the lake in Long Hunter State Park. The mile marker that came with the address wasn’t encouraging.

  By the time the tea brewed, I was dressed and holding a protein bar that would have to count for breakfast. Fabian grumbled a bit at the hour, but I could hardly blame him. The engine, and therefore the heat, barely had time to warm up before we crossed the bridge and the flashing lights caught my attention. I parked with other police cars in a gravel lot.

  With Mitchell’s words still ringing in my ears, I took the time to grab the purification kit and settle it around my waist. I closed Fabian’s trunk and took a deep breath of clean evening air: pine, water, and a touch of death.

  I hadn’t even crossed the police line when I spotted the deer. It wasn’t a great feat on my part. Portable lights shone on the carcass like mini suns. Thanks to my family, I’d seen half-eaten animals in daylight. Night didn’t do this creature any favors, with hard shadows giving the scene a grimmer cast.

  That was me, the mighty necromancer who looked at deer remains and saw spooky. The clan really had something to fear.

  “Pine, what do you make of it?” Agent Mitchell broke away from the group studying the remains from a respectable distance. Even night couldn’t hide the fatigue lines etched into her face.

  It took a moment to adjust my shields. They went from blocking out everything to letting me sense magic through them. The deer was awash with magic. Not just any magic, but blood magic. “It’s like before.”

  Mitchell swore and rocked back on her heels. “That’s not good.”

  “Nope.” I gave the deer and surrounding grass, which was speckled with bits of magic and likely the blood carrying it, a critical assessment. “Move everyone back a few more feet. The magic spread a bit.”

  She shouted over her shoulder. Everyone retreated twice as far as they had to. “What else can you tell me? And can you flag the danger zone?”

  “Yes to the second, and not much to the first. It looks like the same magic as from the previous scene, and I promised the medical examiner I wouldn’t destroy it until he got here.” I met her puzzled look with my own dry interpretation. “Apparently, he wants a better idea of how the blood magic, and its removal, affected the remains.”

  “Ah. Well, in that case, I’ll keep everyone out of the way while you flag it, and then we can enjoy this balmy early morning together.” Her smile was on the toothy side.

  “Can’t wait.” The breeze picked up across the water and found a sliver of exposed skin on my neck. A chill raced down my spine. Biting back unprofessional words, I adjusted my scarf. “I’ll get those flags.”

  It didn’t take that long to mark off the area. I found a three-foot-wide path that could fit two people examining the deer and marked it before doing a circle around the rest of the blood magic. Then I joined Mitchell and two locals as we shivered and waited for Nash.

  “I promise I called him and forensics,” Mitchell grumbled.

  I stuck my gloved hands up close to my armpits. As much as I wanted to complain, he had to get the van from work before he could come out to the scene. That added time to his commute. Frankly, I was lucky to have gotten around that, but there were several medical examiners and only one police witch. I’d used that to my advantage to supply two kits, one for my work car and one for personal, as well as permission to take off-hour calls in my car, specifically ones where the scene was secure.

  This was secure, but for the ten cars there were only five of us out here, one standing next to the “do not cross” line and four of us huddled together shivering. “Where are the rest of the officers?”

  Mitchell jerked her chin toward a set of wobbling lights in the distance that I’d figured were out on the water. “Looking for other deer. I thought about how much damage was done to the body and figured there could be more than one kill. This one was visible from the road, called in a few hours ago by a concerned citizen on their way home from working swing shift.”

  “Any dogs out?” They wouldn’t be trained for something like this, but I hadn’t met a dog that wouldn’t run to deer remains.

  “No.” An officer with a City of Nashville badge piped up. “Only one on duty is working a drug case on the other side of town. We’re on their list, but I’m not holding my breath.”

  I nodded. “After I help Nash with this scene here, I’ll look too.”

  “Thanks.” Mitchell blew on her hands. “Later, I’d like you to come with me for an interview.”

  My pulse picked up. “What?” It took a minute for my tired brain to figure out she wanted me to go with her, not to interview me. “I mean, who?”

  If she noticed my momentary panic, she didn’t mention it. “Alpha of the local wolves. Yesterday, I called to inquire about a missing werewolf and was told they didn’t have any missing wolves.” She quirked an eyebrow.

  “Are they hiding a wolf?” That didn’t make much sense. They’d have to know we wouldn’t stop looking simply because they said the wolf wasn’t one of theirs.

  “Neither. Turns out the owner of the shop, CJ, is a lone wolf. They’ve been trying to get him to join for two years, but he likes being a lone wolf.” Mitchell gave me a look. “I want you in case they’ve gotten hold of some blood magic.”

  “I’m going to the office after this. Give me a call when you’re ready.” I’d have another report to write, the fun part of my job that never made it onto the TV shows.

  Headlights cut across our group. The van settled in next to a car, and the shiny letters on the side caught the light, spelling out Medical Examiner. Time to get to work.

  Nash got out of the van. As much as I enjoyed looking at him, elves set unrealistic standards for the rest of us. The four of us humanoids looked like we needed a good night’s rest, concealer for the bags under our eyes, and fillers for the lines. His Elfness appeared fresh as a dew-kissed flower, not a line or dark circle daring to mar his face, hair pulled back in three French braids. Each of those would’ve taken me near an hour to get right and wouldn’t have looked half as tidy.

  I started his way as he suited up in coveralls. “You made it.”

  “Hope you weren’t waiting too long.” He flashed a cheerful grin. “It’s going to be a beautiful morning. I can feel it.”

  I asked the earth for patience before I opened my mouth. “It’s a crime scene, Nash.”