"You just interfered with a Guild operation," she said.

"And you just checked the morning operations sheet without bothering to see if it was updated. Never mind the fact that the cheapest rent-boy would have spotted me sitting in a darkened car. You didn't even look around." The first part was a bluff. The P.D. didn't always let everyone know an operation was going down. Keeva had little use for the human police, so I hoped she wouldn't know that.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Your point?"

"We're both going to look bad." I held my breath, hoping she'd take the bait. If I knew anything about Keeva macNeve, it was that she hated to look like she'd failed.

Her face became stony as her cheeks flushed red. "What are you proposing?"

I slowly exhaled and spread my hands in a gesture of reasonability. "We both report that our operations were unsuccessful. Nothing more."

I could almost see her mind whirling with options. "I won't be obligated to you," she said.

"If we both report nothing happened, it's done with. Quid pro quo."

"Fine, but you have to report all your future operations to me directly."

I shook my head with a smile. "Quid pro quo."

"Bastard."

"I miss you, too." She began to say something, then paused as she looked over my shoulder. Murdock pulled up to the curb. He leaned over and opened the door, then popped the passenger seat forward. Shay angrily climbed out.

Murdock waved me over. "Get in. It just came over the scanner. They've got someone in custody. It might be our man."

I exchanged one brief startled look with Keeva before jumping into the car. Murdock goosed his siren as he pulled a U-turn. Stinkwort popped up in the small space between the dashboard and me rearview mirror. Startled, Murdock hit the brakes. Stinkwort banged against the windshield and fell onto the dash.

"Nice reflexes," he said, rubbing his head.

"Sorry, Joe." He hit the gas again.

Stinkwort stumbled back. "What the hell is going on?"

"Someone was taken into custody," I said.

"Does this mean the babysitting job is over?" he asked.

"Yeah, tell Robin and Shay to call it a night," I said.

"And make sure they understand to go home. I'll be there bright and early," said Murdock.

Stinkwort rolled his eyes and blinked out.

"Who caught him?" I asked as Murdock wove through traffic.

"Don't know." His voice sounded tight. Murdock didn't like getting caught out of the loop, especially on his own case.

We pulled up in front of the district headquarters. Uniforms were all over the sidewalk. Murdock parked in front of a hydrant, and we got out. Rushing up the steps, most of the cops hanging around had that keen look as they tried to scrutinize every movement around them. They wanted to be in the know as much as anyone, even if me victims were people they could care less about.

Inside the vestibule, Murdock stopped short. Keeva held the inside door open for him, a slim smile on her face. "How the hell'd you get here?" he said.

"You may have noticed I have wings, Detective," she said.

Murdock threw me a dubious glance, but I nodded back at him. Fairy wings may seem too insubstantial to carry someone in flight, and, if it were simply a matter of aerodynamics and muscle, it is impossible. The wings functioned as elaborate airfoils for the manipulation of essence. Fairies can move pretty damn fast when they want to. Flits were even faster.

We entered the dingy foyer, where the desk sergeant sat behind bulletproof glass. He buzzed us through a door to the right of his cage as soon as he recognized Murdock. We proceeded through the door and down a short hall into the relative calm of the back offices. Plainclothes detectives lingered at their desks pretending to work. Given their frequent glances to the closed door at the end of the room, it wasn't hard to tell where the action was. Murdock walked briskly past and knocked and opened the door at the same time.

Inside the narrow darkened room, a number of people stood peering through a two-way glass. In the room beyond, a large disheveled man sat at a cigarette-scarred table, his arms wrapped around his chest as he rocked slowly back and forth. His head was shaved, and several bruises made a mottled dark track along one side of his face. The only other occupant of the room was a uniform standing in a corner as far away as possible. Through the tinny speaker, we could hear muttering. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it," over and over again.

A strange sensation settled over me. Time felt suspended in the darkened room as the man kept up his rhythmic rocking. His eyes looked unfocused. I could feel his essence, relatively strong, and I could imagine him having the physical ability to overpower a fairy. With appropriate apparatus, he might even be able to overcome a fey's other abilities, assuming he knew what he was doing and wasn't as disoriented as this guy seemed to be. I tried to figure out who in the room was throwing out the vibes, but it was hard to tell in such tight quarters.

"Captain's waiting for you," someone said, breaking the moment. Murdock jerked his head at me to follow. Keeva and I filed out behind him. As we walked back through the squad room, I noticed a fairy sitting by himself in the far corner, his dark blond hair in a tangle, the red tunic he wore rent in several places. Tears stained trails through the thick makeup on his face.

The plainclothes detectives did not even bother pretending to work anymore but watched us with various degrees of bemusement and even contempt. Something was not right. As we neared the captain's office, a powerful wave of essence hit me in the face, one I knew instantly. The door opened as an assistant came out, and we pressed into another small room.

Emilio Ruiz, captain of Area B, needlessly waved us in. By Murdock's account, Ruiz was a stand-up kind of guy, by the book for the most part. He had risen through the ranks to captain and seemed content to leave it at that. Ruiz just did his job, overlooked the occasional transgression, and stayed out of politics. Which is why I felt sorry for him since two of the biggest political players in the city had decided to take up positions around his desk.

Sitting with his back to us, I recognized Commissioner Scott Murdock, Murdock's father. The commissioner cocked his head to see who had entered. He was a big man, easily my height, with the same dark eyes as his son. Age had not softened him, and he could still turn heads, with his high cheekbones and gray-streaked hair swept back from the hairline. As far as I could tell, he didn't like me much.

To the left of the desk stood the person whose essence I recognized: Lorcan macDuin, the Guild's Community Liaison Officer. He was exceedingly tall, often a sign of royal stock back in the old country. He wore his pale blond hair in an intricate braid that hung straight down to his waist. As was his usual, he wore an impeccably tailored black suit over a black turtleneck that made him seem even thinner than he was. A small ripple in the air about his shoulders indicated the glamour that hid his wings. He nodded once at Keeva and seemed not to have noticed Murdock or me. From experience, there was no question he didn't like me.

The commissioner gestured with his hand. "Continue, Lorcan."

MacDuin had not moved at all. His piercing green eyes shifted to me and Murdock before he spoke. "As I was saying, the Guild would be more than happy to take the suspect into custody. I insist on it. There are many curious aspects to this case that our expertise will no doubt clarify."

"Can someone bring me up to speed here?" Murdock interrupted.

There was a pregnant pause while no one spoke. I felt a little like a kid who had intruded on the adults. It was Ruiz who decided to fill us in. "Director macDuin apprehended the suspect in the act of attempting to murder a prostitute in an alley off Congress and brought him here. We were just deciding jurisdiction."