When it did, we crammed in with everyone else. The ride itself was uneventful, besides the fact that Mac couldn’t stop muttering, “Mind the gap,” in different funny voices. Combined with her frog face, it was a real trip. One lady stared too long, and I explained that Mac was a makeup artist.

Mostly though, I kept my head tilted down to avoid the stares of men.

When the train reached our destination, I pulled Mac off and hurried up the stairs to the street.

“Thankfully, this part of town is quieter at night,” I said.

“And more boring.” Mac looked up at the towering buildings. The streets were nearly empty.

“That’s good for us.” I led us to the morgue, a building near the police station that I’d rarely visited. We found a good spot across the street from the entrance, and I pulled Mac into an alcove. Together, we stared at the two policemen who stood guard.

“Well, damn,” Mac said. “How are we going to get in there?”

12

Carrow

Unfortunately, the cops on duty at the morgue looked alert and ready for anything.

“We really can’t make a scene on the street,” I said.

“Well, the entrance is inside an alcove.” She pointed at the building. “And it looks like there are nooks on either side. If we could get them back in there, they’d be mostly hidden from the street.”

“And do what, kill them?”

Mac’s jaw dropped. “Uh, no.”

“Whew. Because that is not my scene.”

“No kidding. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be trying to prove yourself innocent of a murder.”

“True enough.” I looked around warily, knowing that all of London was out for my head. Corrigan’s text messages made it clear enough, and now that I was in the real world again, I felt like I had a target on my back.

I shook the worries away and focused on the front door. “There’s also a card scanner at the entrance. Everyone has a badge and has to swipe their way in.”

“That’s harder. There will be an alarm if we just break in, right?”

“Yeah. The police will have badges on them, though, I would think.” At that moment, two people in long white lab coats exited the building, badges around their necks. “Ooh, look at them. They look official.”

“Those coats would make us blend in if we ran into anyone in the hall.”

“I like how you’re thinking.” The two figures nodded at the cops, then headed across the street toward the alley where we stood. “They’re coming toward us. It’s a sign.”

“Let’s follow them and borrow their stuff,” Mac said.

“Borrow. Yeah. Borrow.”

As they neared, I got a better look at their faces. The figure on the left was a slight man with pale hair and large glasses. The woman beside him was a bit taller, with a wild halo of dark curly hair and a stern expression. They reached our side of the street and turned left.

I peered after them, debating. “Are we just going to knock them out? They’re scientists. They didn’t exactly sign up for a life of random concussions.”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry. Come on.” She left our alley and headed after them, walking quickly.

“What are you going to do?” I whispered.

“I’m a seer, but if I really put my power into it, I can disorient people with a touch.” She shrugged. “Can’t do it much, though. Takes a lot of power, then I have to recoup my strength.”

“Let’s try it, then.”

She nodded.

Once we had turned a corner and were out of view of the policemen, we picked up the pace until we were only a meter behind the scientists. Their backs stiffened, and together, they looked back at us. I gave a huge smile, going for charmingly disarming, like someone who was looking for directions. Instead, they grimaced and cringed.

Okay, maybe I’d nailed creepy instead of disarming.

Mac’s hands shot out, and she grabbed each person by the arm. Her magic pulsed briefly, and their eyes started to cross.

“It’s working.” Mac’s voice sounded strained.

They stood there, swaying. I ran around behind them and tugged their white coats off. Mac made sure to keep contact with them as I yanked the white fabric from their shoulders. Last, I took the badges.

“I’ve got them,” I said.

Mac let go, and they stared at her, dazed. Gently, she pivoted them in the direction they’d been heading. She gave them a little nudge that set them walking.

I looked at her, brows raised. “Impressive.”

“Yeah. I’m probably tapped out on that, though. Won’t be able to play the same trick on the guards. Not unless we can wait a while for me to recoup my powers.”

“Can’t.” I handed her a jacket and a badge. “Let’s try our luck. Maybe they’ll assume we’re new and won’t look at our credentials.”

She nodded and shrugged into the jacket, then tugged the hood down from her face, since it just didn’t go with the white coat.

“How do I look?” She gave a faint froggy cringe.

“Honestly, not that bad. You’re still kind of green, but it’s very faint now.”

“Some of the magic from the hoodie is still working, just not as much as if I wore the hood.”

“It’ll have to do. You look like you ate bad seafood and maybe smooshed your nose on a door.”

“Fantastic.” She buttoned up the white coat.

I did the same, buttoning it so that it covered my jacket and hoodie. It was a lumpy combo, but it worked. I put the badge over my head next, and then Mac and I strode toward the morgue with confident strides that suggested we knew what we were doing.

We really didn’t.

At least, I didn’t.

I could wing it, though.

As we got close enough to see the guards’ faces well, I gave a friendly nod. They did a double take at me and my new supermodel face, then frowned at Mac, who was slightly greener under the bright lights. Both men were of average height and build, with nondescript faces.

“Haven’t seen you around,” said the one on the left.

“New.” I smiled, striding past him toward the door. “Have a good night.”

“Good night.” He nodded at me, smiling.

Victory!

“Hold on a moment,” the one on the right said, his voice ringing with authority.

I nearly groaned. This was not what I needed right now. One out of two wasn’t bad, except when it was two suspicious policemen. But it wasn’t unexpected.

I gave a smile and turned to find him right behind me. The smiling guard had approached as well, and he stood in front of Mac, frowning at her.

Crap.

I eyed the alcove to my left. There were about two meters of space hidden behind a wall that faced the street. A bench sat there, out of the frequent rain and infrequent sun. There was an identical alcove on Mac’s side of the entryway.

They were our best bets for doing this quietly.

I moved toward my alcove, and the policeman frowned at me. I hoped he’d follow so that I could try to knock him out with my limited self-defense skills, but he reached for his radio instead.

Damn it.

I lunged for him, grabbing his arm and yanking him toward me.

“What are you—”

I cut off his words with a quick, hard punch to the face. He stumbled backward, then surged toward me, shaking his head like a bull.

Crap. I so wasn't prepared for this.

I kicked out, nailing him in the stomach. He huffed out a breath and doubled over, then lunged upward and swung a punch for my head. I dodged, taking a glancing blow to the cheek that made my head ring.

To my left, Mac was landing a series of successful punches to her policeman. She either had a natural skill or spent Friday nights in a fight ring. Either way, I was impressed.

My skills, however, were sadly lacking. The guard lunged for me again, grabbing my arm in a tight grip. I kicked, my foot colliding with his thigh. He grunted but didn’t let go.

Panic fluttered as I struck out, nailing him in the cheek again. He still didn't release me, and I began to feel like prey.

A flash of gray appeared from the corner of my eye, and a blur shot for the policeman’s head. It collided with him, and a tiny blast of percussive magic slammed into him and echoed through the air, making my head pound.

The blur had been a raccoon—Cordelia?—and it dropped to the ground and ran away as the policeman began to fall.

Holy crap.

I grabbed the policeman at the last minute, stopping his unconscious body from slamming to the ground in a way that could give him a head injury. I wanted to get into the morgue, not kill the poor guy.

Assuming he was alive.

Oh please, be alive.

I leaned over him, feeling for his pulse.

There! Faint and reedy, but there.

My hand touched him, and a vision flashed in my mind. The policeman, driving his car later today. He crashed into another car.

Oh, crap.

I dug into his pocket, finding his keys and tossing them into the bushes where he’d never look. There. Problem solved. He couldn’t drive his car, so he couldn’t crash. I’d consider it a job well done.

I turned to see Mac leaning over her unconscious policeman, removing his handcuffs from his belt.

She looked up at me. “Cuff him. Tie his shoelaces together.”

I did as she said, occasionally shooting worried glances at the policeman. “Will he be okay?”

“What happened to him? You knock him out?”

“No, that raccoon from Guild City showed up and bowled him over.”

Mac looked up, her eyes wide. “A what from Guild City?”

“That raccoon I pointed out before. I swear it was Cordelia.”

She pursed her lips. “Cordelia.”

“Yeah. That was what I called her when I’d see her in the alley behind my old flat.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?” I groaned, tilting my head back. “That means you think I’m crazy, doesn’t it?”