There was a café down the street from the precinct, so we walked. Which was a relief, as I didn’t feel like explaining why I couldn’t drive. I might be able to see well enough to walk around, but I definitely wasn’t trusting myself behind the wheel.
Once Jenson had signed my client agreement, and thus I’d covered my ass legally for any fallout from my ritual, I closed my shields and let the darkness surround me. I hated being blind in public—it made me feel vulnerable. But I was just sitting in a booth nursing a coffee, and Jenson seemed to be in no hurry himself. If I needed, I could always open my psyche again, but giving my eyes some time to heal would be best.
So, we sat in silence. Me with both hands wrapped around the hot coffee as I tried to encourage some of its warmth into my body, and Jenson on the other side of the booth, most likely still staring into his mug, which was pretty much all he’d done since we arrived. It was almost companionable. Almost.
“Will you turn over the case?” I asked once the waitress refilled my mug for the second time.
“I should. No good explanation outside of magic for a horde of serpents showing up like that and then vanishing just as mysteriously. The hammer, especially, is damning, isn’t it?”
Admittedly, glamour had been my first thought. But that didn’t explain what had happened to the boy’s shade. Both Emma and Jeremy had been killed by the snakes, but only his shade had been damaged. He’d also been the first attacked. That seemed significant.
“How about that drug, Glitter. Have the police run across many cases with it before? I’ve never heard of it.”
The table thrummed as Jenson drummed his fingers over it, but he didn’t answer immediately. I wished I could see his expression, or if he’d nodded or shook his head, because it didn’t seem like I was going to get a verbal answer. Then he grunted and said, “I can talk to narcotics, but new street names for the same old designer drugs pop up on occasion, so it might be nothing. But you’d think the blood panel would have caught that.”
I could almost hear his frown. And I had to agree with his initial assessment that something was off about this case. I set down my coffee mug. Damn, I was brooding over the circumstances of the case. This wasn’t my case. While I couldn’t deny that the strange circumstances piqued my interest, my part was over. I’d raised and questioned the shades. That was all I’d been hired to do.
“Well, I should—” I cut off as a commotion broke out in the front of the café. Loud exclamations of what sounded more like amazement than fear rose from several voices all at once, followed by scooting chairs and pounding feet as people rushed toward the windows.
I cursed my eyes as I twisted in my seat, but I didn’t stand.
“What’s happening?” I asked, straining to hear what people were saying. There were too many voices and I was catching only snatches that didn’t make much sense.
“Not sure.” Jenson’s chair screeched as it scooted back, so I guessed he stood, but with all the other noise, I couldn’t tell if he went to check it out or not.
Cursing under my breath, I cracked my shields and opened my psyche. The café snapped into distorted focus and I looked around. Jenson had, in fact, moved to the front of the café where all the patrons were gathered at the large windows. I stood slowly, still trembling from the combo of overused magic and grave chill, and then I made my way toward the crowd.
I stopped before I reached the window, gawking.
Jenson turned toward me. “You seeing a unicorn? Because I am.”
I nodded, dumbfounded. Outside the window. In the middle of main street, a man in dirty clothes that had seen better days sat on the back of a large white horse with a spiraled horn sticking out of the middle of its head. But while I could clearly see the unicorn, I could also see through it.
“It does look like one.” Superficially, at least.
“Then it can’t be a unicorn because you sure as hell aren’t a virgin.”
I raised an eyebrow but didn’t peel my gaze off the spectacle in the street. Jenson had made more than one disparaging comment about my sex life in the past. This time though, it was applicable.
“Yeah, and you aren’t exactly a maiden,” I shot back, and received an amused grunt in response. For that matter, the guy riding the mythical beast was far from a virginal maiden either, and if folklore was to be believed, only young ladies pure of body and heart should be able to see a unicorn, let alone touch or ride one.
Jenson stepped back from the crowd and dropped his voice. “You think it’s real or glamour?” The last word was a whisper.