Zee ran his left hand over the body about an inch from her skin, and Adam was pretty sure that if he’d had Mercy’s senses, the room would have been filled with magic. As it was, the hair on the back of his neck was standing up. The old fae had a sour look on his face—which was his standard thoughtful expression. Adam was pretty sure Zee had not found anything that surprised him.
Adam wondered if he should warn the coroner that this corpse would be a target of any gray witch who knew about her—though Amin’s specialist should be able to tell him that. What could have spooked Helena, the witch who owned the antiques store, so she had not taken the corpse herself? What had scared her?
Like any predator, most gray witches had no problem with squeamishness. She had stopped to take photos. Why hadn’t she taken the body? Or parts of the body—the organs were the most useful, and there was no sign that anyone had tried to take the dead witch’s heart or liver.
“Zee?” Adam was starting to think he should have insisted on bringing Mercy in, and not because he was worried about leaving her alone. “Could you learn more if you touched the corpse?” As Helena presumably had—before leaving not only the crime scene but the whole city. What had she discovered?
“Ja,” he said, straightening up. He glanced at the coroner and said, “But we are guests here. I am ready to look at the boy.”
The second corpse hit Adam unexpectedly hard. He’d seen a lot of bodies, a lot of death, and nowadays, unless the dead person was someone he knew, he was generally unaffected. But Aubrey Worth was—had been—Jesse’s age.
While his daughter had been half a block away watching a movie, someone had ripped Aubrey’s flesh open, spilling his life onto a polished cement floor. He’d had plans, people he loved who loved him back. Now there would be a hole in the world where his life had previously fit.
They would find his killer and make sure that no more people died before their time. Adam made himself think about something else before his wolf decided to show itself.
The coroner must have figured out that Zee was scary while Adam was distracted. Or maybe he’d added two and two and gotten five when Adam asked Zee about touching the body. Whatever the reason, Amin had quit trying to make conversation and moved a few steps closer to Tony and George, without abandoning his post near the drawer. He looked a little protective of his dead charges, as if he was fighting not to put himself between Zee and Aubrey Worth’s corpse.
Zee began by treating the young man’s body the same as he had the first. But when he was done using his hands, he put his face quite close to the body. Amin looked as though he was going to protest—but Tony put a hand on his arm. Not restraint, exactly, but requesting cooperation.
Ignoring the silent argument, Zee closed his eyes and inhaled. Adam knew about scenting things. Sometimes holding the air in your lungs for a couple of seconds and then letting the air back out through your nose gave you a different take on subtle scents. He didn’t think that the old fae’s nose was as good as a werewolf’s, but he could have been wrong.
He was watching quite closely, so he saw the moment Zee froze. The old fae’s eyes opened, but Adam had the impression he wasn’t looking at anything. Zee’s eyes were usually some intermittent shade between blue and gray, but now they were the color of a shimmering silver blade, with neither pupil nor white in evidence, and the air in the morgue acquired the sharp scent of ozone and potential danger.
Zee closed his eyes again and took in another breath. When he straightened at last and opened his eyes, they looked stormy but human. Then he frowned slightly and turned to Adam.
“I think that we could use Mercy’s nose here,” he said, sounding utterly like himself.
In front of the others, the old fae would never say, “Mercy can smell some kinds of magic better than I can.” But Adam was sure that was what he meant.
Adam nodded. “I’ll ask her.”
Zee looked like a battered old mechanic again, hands in pockets, and thoughtful. But the air still smelled of ozone, and Adam’s skin twitched as he turned his back on the iron-kissed fae.
* * *
—
Adam found Mercy still huddled in his coat. Her face was tucked down into the fabric until only the top of her head stuck out.
He said her name before he tapped on her window to get her attention, so he wouldn’t startle her. She jumped a little anyway—a sign of how tense she still was. When he opened the door, the heat boiled out of the car, though he could hear her chattering teeth.