Witch on the Case by Mina Carter

Author:Mina Carter [Carter, Mina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mina Carter

8

“Are you sure this thing is even legal?” Daffi asked as she looked at the card Garlick had handed her. “Where did you get it?”

Small and square, it had an official-looking seal and ribbon hanging off it with the words “Official Magical Private Investigator” on the front.

“Hey!” Oberon exclaimed, looking at his and then at Daffi’s. “Why does hers say investigator and mine just says assistant? I am king. I should be in charge.”

Garlick sniffed. “You’re an illegal fae. You’re lucky I could even get you an assistant’s badge rather than a stay in Bedlam and a one-way trip back to the land of the winged and happy.”

“Shhh, keep quiet and try to look like we know what the hell we’re doing!” She hissed out of the corner of her mouth as the three of them—witch, familiar, and fae—walked toward the murder scene.

Tucked in a back alley between the museum and the nearest tube station, it was the way she walked home every night. Apart from last night. Last night she’d turned right into Pendleton Place instead and walked back toward Hansom Row.

One of the hidden magical streets in the city, it would only show itself to those with non-mortal blood and was crammed with shops. You could get everything from spell books and ingredients all the way through to brooms and wands for witches who liked that kind of thing. They weren’t required for spellcasting but were fun to carry at Halloween.

“It had better be,” Garlick chuckled. “It was authorized by a Judge, and if he’s bent, we’re all fucked.”

But the murder scene was on her normal route home so they walked past Pendleton Place and kept going. Gore Alley. It was aptly named. Daffi couldn’t help a shudder of foreboding at the name as they were stopped by a Shifter in watch uniform.

It was remarkably similar to the city’s standard police uniform, circa 1880s, and helped them stand out from the mortal police force. Since most rank and file tended to be Shifters, norms could see them occasionally. They usually mistook them for cosplayers or one of the “Ripper events” that often took place in the city, even though they were nowhere near Whitechapel. Even now, the watchman on the end of the alley was fielding a trio of camera-wielding tourists.

“Sorry, sir, private event. I’m afraid I can’t let you in.”

“Oh, their costumes are so adorable. James, you absolutely must get a picture with the policeman.”

Daffi tuned out the conversation as she focused on the officer in front of them. Taking a quick breath in, she smiled. Dog Shifter for sure, but she couldn’t pick out what breed.

“Sorry, miss, private event,” he rumbled, a hint of growl in the back of his throat. Old English sheepdog, she decided. Had to be with a voice like that. “Can’t let you in.”

“Daffi McGee, MPI,” she said, injecting authority into her voice and unleashing a glimpse of the resting bitch face. He straightened up with a frown as she flashed him her badge.

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