That, Asa might have forgiven him, but the boy took it one step further and spit on the corpse.
Asa slammed the boy’s head against the brick wall of the neighboring club before Walters could so much as squeak a protest. “All life matters.”
Proving he was a total idiot, Walters reached for the wand hidden down his pant leg. “Back the fuck off.”
Metal glinted, catching the streetlight, and it dawned on me he hadn’t gone for his wand but a dagger. A cold ball of dread settled in my gut as I lunged to intercept the weapon. But in shoving Asa, I knocked Walters’s aim off course, and his blade caught on Asa’s braid rather than plunging into his chest.
Warm blood spattered my face, arced across Asa’s jaw, and painted the wall above Walters.
Shrieking in horror, Walters scooped up his amputated hand and tried to stick it back on. It fell off with a thump, and Walters’s eyes rolled up in his head. His knees buckled, and he hit the pavement in a heap.
Fergal latched his mouth around the stump, attempting to use his saliva to seal the wound, but it was a catastrophic injury.
“I ought to let him bleed out.” I jerked Walters out of Fergal’s hands. “But he’s ruining the crime scene.”
Drawing my wand, I tapped Walters’s wrist bone, focusing my intent to cauterize the injury.
The agony shot his eyes wide open, and he lifted his barbequed arm with a tremble on his lips.
“My h-h-hand,” he stuttered. “Where is my h-h-hand?”
“I have it.” Fergal collected the gruesome trophy. “Perhaps Ms. Hollis knows someone who can reattach it.”
“I’m sure I do.” I pocketed my wand. “However, I don’t, as a rule, help morons who attack my mate.”
Mate.
The word had slipped out, and there was no calling it back. I think…maybe…I didn’t want to?
“I’ll take him to the medic.” Fergal gripped his trainee by the upper arm. “I’ll be back when I can.”
“You guys are going to get us in so much trouble one of these days,” I groused to the y’nai, and I swear I heard an answering rustle of laughter. “I’m willing to give you a pass this one time.” I kept my face stern, though I had no idea where they were hiding. Probably behind me. Better to focus on the person I could see, the one chuckling at my slip. “He cut your hair.”
“Better my hair than my heart.” He cradled my cheek in his palm. “Mate.”
“Heard that, did you?” I could have kicked myself for saying it in front of other agents. “I was making a point.”
“That you would have done the y’nai’s job for it if Walters had succeeded?”
“I want to believe I would have stopped there.” I smoothed the poor, abused braid and gritted my teeth against the couple of flyaways Walters managed before the y’nai intervened. “I’m not sure I would have.” I stared up at him. “I’m not exactly rational where you’re concerned.”
“I don’t mind.” His lips twitched. “Not at all.”
“That only makes you just as twisted as me.” I tugged his braid then let it go. “Come on. Time to work.”
We took photos and video of the body for our personal records, but Fergal was thorough. There were no clues he hadn’t already identified and flagged in his report. Parish had wasted resources ordering us here. Our time would have been better spent in Raymond, hunting the Boos, than horning in on Fergal’s case.
“We’ve got a witness,” a young man dressed in black told us. “Filmed the whole thing on her phone.”
When he got close enough, I could tell he was aquatic fae by the faint scent that clung to him. The smell wasn’t saltwater or fresh, but it was as if my brain made the identification without consulting my other senses. Must be a species I had come across and remembered, even if I couldn’t access the name.
“Can I see?” I noticed the device in his hand. “Is that her cell?”
“Sure is.” He pressed a few more buttons. “I got the video cued up for you.”
I reached for the device, but he yanked his hand back, and I froze. “Problem?”
“Do I set this somewhere, or…?” His gaze flicked to the bloody puddle. “I like my hands where they are.”