Creeping it Real: Magical Bureau of Investigation book 2 by Albany Walker

Author:Albany Walker [Walker, Albany]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Albany Publishing
Published: 2021-10-27T16:00:00+00:00

IDGAF-ish

“Thanks for getting me out of there,” I tell Percy. I don’t have time to stop in my room to get his bag, nor do I have the brain power to ask how he managed to get out of my locked room in the first place.

I have mentioned I like duck eggs, he replies in a persuading tone, and I chuff out something close to a laugh. It makes me want to cry.

“Let’s go deal with the easy stuff, like dead bodies and forbidden rituals,” I say while pushing the down button for the elevator. I had planned to speak with the AD about the guys being here, but I just can’t bring myself to do it right now. If something comes up, I’ll address it then.

Bender—the agent who accompanied Wuornos to Hill Crest—is in the conference room when I arrive. She looks up from an open file and gives me a nod in greeting. “I’m just catching up. I was out with family stuff,” she divulges freely.

I head right over to the coffee station and make myself a drink after placing Percy on the ground. “I’m playing catch-up too.” I think about wishing her well with her family issues, but I don’t want her to think I’m prying.

Once I sit down, she closes the file and leans over the table a little. “You were there this morning, right?”

“The cemetery, yeah.”

“There are some notes in the file, but I’d love a firsthand account.” Her dark eyes are sharp and directed right at me.

Grateful for the distraction, I give her a rundown of the events, ending with the exhumed caskets and the evidence we found within.

Bender flips the folder open and quickly scans the document inside. “I read the reanimated corpses were a little over fifty feet from the circle.” Her eyes rise to mine again.

I nod. “There would have been a hell of a lot more bones if they could have risen from their graves.”

The others slowly filter into the room, until most of the table is occupied. Wuornos is the last to enter. He takes a seat at the head of the table and announces, “We have a potential lead on a suspect.”

When several questions are blurted at once, he lifts his hand, and the room falls silent. “There was DNA left behind at the scene. I rushed it through processing, and preliminary findings show a close family relative that’s gotten into some trouble in the past. I have someone tracing the ancestry and magic to see what shakes loose.”

“What other information did the blood give you?” I ask, eager to learn anything we can about the person performing the spells.

“Male, proficiency is at a nine with a very high ‘well-being’ in their cells, so we’re looking for someone young, maybe even underage.” Wuornos scans the room.

“A nine?” Flannigan whistles. The highest magical proficiency on record is a ten, and there aren’t very many of those. Five is average. If you’re a seven or above, you’re considered gifted. I

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