Randolf had spent years creating a garden behind the house. Pathways snaked through flower beds and around trees. In the far back corner, an ornamental cherry tree and a tall fence separated this property from the neighbors. A trellis covered in wisteria effectively shielded this corner from the house and garden.

  With a bag of salt, a steel knife, and the cold touch of my necromancy flowing through me, I set down the shovel and its occupant. For having been hit by a car, the squirrel looked pretty good, but death had its own signs, and even in these early stages, they were less kind.

  I scanned the area. As far as I could tell, I was alone with the squirrel for now. “Sorry little guy. You deserved better.”

  Hoping no one noticed me out here, I pushed my slowly regenerating pool of magic to the side. Cold tendrils of my necromancy rose to my hand. Directing the flow of power with my wand, I focused on the squirrel. “Eair Deyr.”

  The necromancy jumped from my wand to the squirrel. It twitched, rolled to its feet, and sprinted around the yard. Afraid it would strain its decomposing body, I tried a command. “Stop.”

  The squirrel froze, front paws on the base of a tree, tail curled.

  “Come here, slowly.” I held my breath, not sure it would work.

  Sure enough, the squirrel dashed in my direction. When it was a foot away, I gave it another command. “Get on the shovel.”

  It did.

  Breathe in, and focus. “Deyr.”

  The squirrel fell over, and the necromancy that had been in it faded away. I sprinkled salt on it and tapped it with the knife to be sure, but it was dead.

  Before I could celebrate intentionally raising something from the dead and retiring it to true death, I picked up the shovel. The sun was down and the streetlights far enough apart it wouldn’t be too easy to tell what I was doing, unless the person watching had really good night vision. My luck held, and I returned the squirrel to where I’d found it without incident. After that, it was easy enough to return the shovel to the tool shed.

  Back in my apartment, I leaned against the door, taking deep breaths. Undead, following my orders, and dead again, with my necromancy happily back into its spot. Now that I had a feel for how to use my power intentionally, it should be easier to control.

  Yup, helping my brother and practicing forbidden magics was exactly what Smith had in mind when he’d sent me home early.

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  ***

  At this rate, I’d stop recognizing my alarm clock and only wake up if my phone rang. “Pine.” I put as much sourness in my voice as I could.

  “How do you feel about a stakeout?” Harris asked.

  “I feel like you sound too awake and too happy for this hour.” I pulled the phone away from my face. “Narzel. It’s one in the morning. Why?”

  “Stakeout. You know, we wait and try to spot the bad buy.”

  “Do I have a choice?” I threw off the covers and sat up.

  “Smith said you might be resting, so yes, but I don’t have the magic to fix this werewolf.”

  Legs dangling over the edge of my bed, I focused inward. My well of magic had regenerated faster than I’d expected. “I’m at half capacity, so I can do it. But next time you plan on waking me up at an uncivilized hour, you should warn me first.”

  “I have tea and scones.”

  It was a good bribe. “Where are we meeting?”

  Practice had given me a better middle of the night routine than I’d ever wanted to develop. On my way out, I waved to Randolf, who was working in the garden again. He didn’t mention the squirrel, so if he’d noticed anything he was keeping it secret.

  The one thing I had to admit was nice about this hour was the lack of traffic, which was how I made it to work in near record time. On Harris’s request, I detoured past the lab, got out the deer blood, and put together a tracking spell to look for deer with similar but not identical blood. Satisfied with my work, I tidied up and went to the parking lot.

  True to his word, Harris was waiting for me, leaning against the car with a box and giant travel cup. “Scones or tea first?”

  I took the box of scones from him. “You drive, I eat.”

  “Deal. Which way is the charm pointing?” he asked as he unlocked the car.

  I shoved everything but my travel mug, the charm, and the precious scones in the back seat. “Nowhere.”

  He grinned. “Good.” Meaning the werewolf hadn’t attacked another deer yet.

  Not caring where Harris thought we should do our stakeout, I bit into a scone oozing cinnamon flavor.

  “You’ll get crumbs in the car.”

  “In my world, vacuums take care of such things.”

  He grinned and kept driving.

  All that was left of the scone was the hint of flavor I was busy licking off my fingers when I recognized the area of this morning’s crime scene. “Why here?”

  “He’s hunting like an animal: pick a territory and stay for a while. Move when there’s a reason. I don’t know what made him move over here, but he did, so I think he’ll hunt here again tonight.” Harris drove past the strip mall, which still had police tape around it. He took a right and pulled into the empty parking lot of an older car wash.

  “So, we’re close enough that when the charm gives a direction, we can get there.” That sounded good in theory. “How are the two of us supposed to stop him?”

  Harris shrugged. “Tonight, I’d settle for both of us getting a good look at him. Capture or even kill is a secondary objective. We’re hunting something we’ve never seen before. More information would help.”

  Sure, if CJ didn’t decide to hunt us instead of the deer. “Just one more question.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “You told me you were in the forensics department. Why are you in the field now?” Transfers like that weren’t common. It had been part of the challenge when creating my position.

  The easy smile faded. “I wanted to be in forensics, but I’m good in the field.”

  Not the answer I’d been looking for, but I also hadn’t intended to upset him. I held out the box. “Want a scone?”