4. I hadn’t even suspected such a network had existed within the city.

FOUR

I hadn’t even suspected such a network had existed within the city.

Wednesday, May 2, 2057

River Lakes Park, Precinct 153

Cauldron City, Nebraska.

While I doubted the park near Jace’s home would render the results I wanted, it made for an excellent place to begin. It met all of Miranda’s criteria, including several utility sheds and park management centers, all of which could be the entry point for the warehouse. Within twenty minutes of arrival and a few conversations with the park’s manager, I learned several important facts.

First, every park larger than a block in size had some form of storage facility beneath it. River Lakes Park used theirs for supplies, seed storage, potable water storage, and training. Second, every warehouse had at least three ways to get in, one mechanical, one magical, and one mundane. As Mr. Stalwond appreciated how he could request—and receive—help from law enforcement as needed, he showed me all three entrances, how they were supposed to be accessed, and how to find them in each park.

The dragons had been systematic when building Cauldron City, and if something were to happen, they’d wanted emergency supplies and resources in every precinct. As every precinct had at least one park meeting the basic criteria for such a bunker, the entire city could seek shelter if needed.

It would be a cramped squeeze, but everyone could evacuate underground.

I hadn’t even suspected such a network had existed within the city.

Following our tour, Miranda regarded me with a quizzical expression. “Are you all right?”

“I’m coming to terms with my job becoming even harder,” I confessed, gesturing in the direction of the nearest entrance, the magical one I could unlock now that I understood how the system worked.

It took a skilled magicker, and it had surprised Mr. Stalwond I met the minimum requirements to operate the locks. Miranda couldn’t.

While she had a few tricks up her sleeve, the magical entrance was meant for those packing a punch.

If my guess was at all correct, I could unlock two such entrances in a day before needing a lot of calories and even more rest. However, if I had to pull out the big guns to investigate all the park facilities, Captain Farthan would likely end up paying out a bonus for the work.

While we had a variety of shapeshifters and magickers in the force, we were often paid bonuses if we actually needed to use our abilities outside of our regular roles.

Infiltrating the storage sites counted—I hoped.

“It’s a lot to monitor, isn’t it?”

I nodded, dug my work phone out of my pocket, and thumbed through my contacts until I located my captain’s cell number. “If I fall over dead, the captain finally figured out how to breathe fire through his cell,” I warned her.

“Is that a real risk? He seems like a whole lot of bark with the ability to bite but a preference for mouthing his targets into submission.”

I cracked a grin at her commentary, happy to delay the inevitable. “I’ll pay you in coffee to repeat that to Jace. I won’t promise he won’t steal the line for his arsenal, but he’ll love it.” Jace would likely fawn all over the woman, and I would be ready with fresh coffee to enjoy when Jace’s dragoness attempted to cope with the infernally sweet cadet’s existence.

My social life would be good and interesting while my work life burned around me.

“He’s the unicorn, right?”

In a few weeks, Miranda would learn who everyone was—and hopefully, everyone would get used to having another woman around who wasn’t a support staffer. While we had two women on duty at all times, they often vanished within five minutes of starting their shift, hitting the streets and avoiding the overwhelming testosterone. I suspected they carried a wealth of gossip to our sister station and their indomitable leader, Captain Fernandez. “He is.”

“I’m going to hold out for morning coffee if you want me to do that, Valor. ”

Under normal circumstances, I flinched when someone used my first name. That her usage of it didn’t make me cringe startled me enough I stared at her, wondering what set her apart from everyone else. Then, with the sort of regret that would linger, I realized we were mirrors of each other.

She ran from her last name. I ran from my first name. She reached out for what she could understand and handle.

I let her.

“I can handle being coerced for morning coffee, but it means you’ll have to occupy my guest bedroom for an undetermined period of time. But for as long as you’re occupying a room in my home, I can handle making you coffee.” The longer I kept company with her, the less I liked the idea of letting the woman out of my sight.

Bracing for the worst, I pressed the green icon to call my captain.

“What’s wrong, Lovell?” he answered.

“We’re going to need a task force to monitor the storage facilities under the city’s parks. Each one has three entrances in, and I suspect at least some of the bodies are being stored in them. The park managers only do token searches, and some of these facilities are large enough to house the population of entire precincts in them. I’m taking Miranda to poke around some of them to see what we can find, but with the number of parks, we’re going to have to get extra bodies on this. The park managers will let us in without needing a warrant, however.”

Captain Farthan sighed. “All right. There’s nothing actually wrong, so I’ll take it. How is your cadet doing?”

“Good. She’s asking excellent questions. ”

The captain liked when the babies asked questions. It significantly lessened the odds that they would be sent back to preschool.

“Nothing suspicious yet?”

“Not yet. Should something suspicious occur, I’ll contact dispatch.”

“I’ll make sure dispatch knows they’re to contact me if anything goes on the wire about you two. Do not leave tonight without seeing me in my office first.”

“Understood, sir.”

My captain hung up, and I sighed at the reality of how the rest of our day would go. When Captain Farthan issued such an order, it either involved a reprimand, a commendation, or a matter involving true privacy.

If I’d done something to endanger myself or Miranda, he would have asked for me to see him outside of his office, and he would dress me down in front of everyone else as a reminder to be more careful. Everyone endured at least one such scolding in the beginning of their career, and it would be the one thing I didn’t warn Miranda about.

Seeing was believing, and I hadn’t believed the other cops until my day had come.

I narrowed my eyes, wondering if anyone had warned Miranda about Captain Dupont, who had been the one to start the conflict between the men and women in the force.

Captain Maria Fernandez had ultimately been put in charge of the women.

Captain Dupont had gotten reassigned to a different station, and rumors whispered of a potential transfer to a different precinct altogether .

Jace had missed the fuss, and I doubted he’d ever met Captain Dupont in person.

The unicorn would not like that opal dragon, of that I was certain.

“What do you know about law enforcement here?” I asked, wondering how far I should take my warnings.

“I’ve been told to go see Captain Farthan or Captain Fernandez if I have any problems. There were a few captains I was told to avoid to start with. My background will be a problem for them.”

Her statement likely qualified as the understatement of the year. “You were given good advice. If in doubt, ask me first. I’ll make sure you don’t run into one of the more problematic captains.”

While I wouldn’t like it, if Captain Dupont gave my new partner a hard time, I’d step up to bat and give the bastard a reason to back off. If I lost my job, I’d go straight to the commissioner along with a copy of my record—and a reminder of all the bullshit Captain Dupont had put our precinct through.

My fellow cops would be sideswiped, as I tended to keep to myself and encourage peace rather than sow chaos. My tendencies likely held responsibility for being chosen to teach Miranda the ropes. My work with Paul had likely factored as well.

Handling Paul required patience, tolerance for the absurd, and an enjoyment of affection.

I checked the map on my phone and identified all the parks in Precinct 153 that might be used as a storage facility for bodies. I doubted any of them would be used for such a thing due to the close proximity to the necropolis, but I would not leave any stone unturned.

My first job would be to enter through the mundane and mechanical entries. The mundane entries, which involved a locked door I’d have to get the keys for, would be the easiest. Someone with a set of picks and decent skills could break in within a few minutes. The mechanical entry required a key, a combination code, and understanding how the mechanism worked. Incorrect methodology would result in the entry being barred, and only someone who knew the reset codes could access the facility.

Mr. Stalwond had provided me with the current codes, the park legend, and a list of those who had access to the list—and he’d added both me and Miranda to the list. Even better, I could access the updated list when it changed in a week.

Dragons handled the magic needed to change the combinations. Mr. Stalwond believed dragons of all colors contributed to the system, but he had no way to contact someone involved with the security.

If I wanted that information, I’d have to do some additional investigating.

“What are you thinking?” Miranda asked.

“We’re going to need a lot of coffee before we hit up every park in Precinct 153. I want to eliminate our roost from the possibilities.”

“And if we don’t eliminate Precinct 153 from the list?”

“Well, we’ll be a hell of a lot closer to closing this case, which works for me. But for today, I’ll hope we eliminate all the parks here. I suspect the storage they’re using is under Precinct 158; it’s huge, and the facility has a lot of space for someone to do something illegal in it. It’s also quiet and generally used for long-term storage.”

Mr. Stalwond’s information would both simplify and complicate my life.

He wasn’t the only park manager with his level of knowledge, and according to him, some knew even more. Any one of them could be an accomplice, allowing criminals to operate within the parks.

By the time I finished with the case, I’d see every accomplice of Mercy brought down and forced to pay for their crimes. I had lines, and those who terrorized families crossed my every line.

It didn’t matter if the family was that of an upstanding citizen or a criminal.

Everyone deserved comfort and security at home, even men like Roger, our sole survivor. Roger viewing Jace as his new best friend unnerved me, but the serial killer had taken to the unicorn much like everyone else in Precinct 153.

If Roger led us to justice, I’d be willing to make the bastard my new best friend, too.

I couldn’t guess if Roger would reform, but justice would be served—and Roger’s willingness to face justice for his crimes helped me accept the whole mess.

“What’s bothering you?”

“Has anyone briefed you about Roger?”

Miranda shook her head.

As there was nothing left for us to do in River Lakes Park, I escorted Miranda back to my cruiser. Once inside, I said, “He’s a serial killer, and he’s one of Dr. Lerrans’s victims. He’s lucky to be alive, and he’s pretty vocal. He wants Dr. Lerrans to fall even more than we do, and we’re working with him to make sure we both get what we want. It’s unusual.”

“Everything about this is unusual, at least from my understanding. Organ theft isn’t that unusual, though, is it?”

“Only on the scale it’s happening here.” My heart had ached during the briefing over the realities of the medical system. In so many ways, doctors and nurses had worked literal miracles, but as they succeeded more often at saving lives, they lost other battles.

People needing organs couldn’t get them, not legally.

Too few people died from trauma due to innovation and the unwavering dedication of medical professionals. Such a consequence had never occurred to me, not before the dead weight cases.

“Why?”

How could I explain the situation to her in a way that made sense? “I think surgeons in the emergency room, in some ways, have gotten too good. Fewer people are dying, which means those with faulty organs can’t get help. And medical science and magic just can’t seem to conquer long-term organ failure, including heart disease. Short-term, like the consequences of the toxin, seem reversible. But I’m not a doctor, and until these cases showed up, I had no idea about the reality of medical care. I’ve taken some courses to help out as a first responder, but that’s it. Honestly, I still don’t understand it. I’ve just been told that getting donor organs has become harder.”

“Including hearts? ”

“I’m assuming so. I think there are some organs living donors can offer. Kidneys and livers are among them.” I grimaced at my general ignorance. “Well, I think.”

Miranda got out her phone, tapped at the screen, and after a few minutes, she reported, “Kidneys, livers, lungs, intestines, and the pancreas can be donated. In the case of everything except a kidney, it’s only a part of the organ. Apparently, some organs can grow back with time or the help of magic.” She tapped at the screen. “As long as only twenty-five perfect of the lung is donated, doctors with the right abilities can regrow the lung to its original state. According to this site, the same donor can undergo such an operation once every two years safely.”

“I could give a quarter of a lung every two years?”

“Yes, according to this.”

Huh. “How long does it take to recover from that?”

“Lung donors are expected to take one week off work following the procedure to be monitored for complications. The regenerative work is done immediately following the donation, so it seems to be a week out of an abundance of caution.”

“I could take a week off work and give someone a new lung?”

“That seems to be the case.” Miranda waved her phone. “And donors are paid for the organ.”

“How much is a quarter of my lung worth?”

“You would be compensated fifty thousand dollars for your time and risk to your life.”

I grabbed my phone and did a search regarding organ donation and wait times, discovering lungs, livers, and kidneys were the easiest to acquire, with limited waitlists. Joining a donation list could earn someone five thousand dollars a year, paid out by various charities to help minimize the waits for patients in need of an organ.

My ignorance bothered me. “It’s fifty thousand for most organs, too?”

Miranda nodded. “If I had known about this program, I would have entered it, and I never would have needed to steal in the first place. Not only would I be able to save a life, I would have been able to eat and get a cheap place to stay—and you can do an op for each organ type. You’re not limited to just one. You could donate a piece of each viable organ. They ask for a month between operations unless it’s a critical emergency.” Miranda wrinkled her nose. “I might even sign up even if I don’t need the money. This saves lives, Valor.”

Yes, it did—and it could provide people with an excellent way of earning money without having to resort to desperate measures. “But why isn’t this more public knowledge?”

“I have no idea.”

Narrowing my eyes, I searched through my contacts and called Gloria, Dr. Erik’s daughter. I held the phone to my ear, wondering if there was a connection between the lack of public awareness of the organ donor programs and Mercy’s illegal dealings.

“Hey, Lovell. Do you need to talk to my dad? He’s performing a surgery right now.”

“No, I was actually calling to talk to you. Should I just apologize for everyone using you as a relay for your father?”

The black unicorn chuckled. “No, you don’t need to apologize. What can I do for you? ”

“I am following a lead regarding organ donation. Is it true there are a bunch of people on waitlists to be organ donors? For lungs, kidneys, livers, and so on?”

“Sure. There are numerous charities that maintain waitlists, and insurance companies pre-approve donors associated with quite a few of those charities. We make use of those services all the time. Why are you asking?”

“I had no idea this was a thing. And it really pays the donor fifty thousand?”

“It does, yes. Some donors are paid more depending on circumstances. Emergency donors get a slightly higher payout, as they can’t just preschedule their operation. They’re on call. Why are you asking?”

“Is this something most of the public knows about?”

The woman made a thoughtful sound in her throat. “Now that you mention it, I don’t think there’s a lot of public outreach about donation opportunities. We—as in medical researchers—are spending our money working on improving our ability to expand donor organs. We’re working on stomachs and hearts right now. We’re almost to the point we can extract a quarter of someone’s stomach and regenerate it. If we can get that to work, we’ll be able to save stomach cancer patients.”

“And the progress with hearts?”

“It’s not going well, but we have hope that we can make it work. We can regenerate the heart, but the problem is keeping the patient alive during the procedure. Unlike other operations, we have to completely replace the donor’s heart. Right now, were trying to streamline the process in such a way we have the highest survival rate of donors and patients. It’s a challenge. Given a few years, we’ll be able to do it. We’re just not quite there yet.”

“Would someone like Dr. Lerrans know about the heart donor research?”

“Probably not. Dr. Lerrans only volunteered to make himself look good, and he did the bare minimum. He knows how to do the transplants, but he isn’t the type to follow—or care about—proper research.”

Well, I could guess where Gloria stood on the matter. “Can you put me in touch with any of these charities or groups that arrange for living donations?”

“Sure. I’ll give them your email and have them send you information packs.”

“Give them a reminder that they’ll have a lot more living donors if they actually tell people what the benefits include. If they’re willing to toss around tens of thousands for living donations that can be done every few years per organ, I suspect there will not be issues getting donors lined up.”

The black unicorn made a thoughtful noise. “I’ll make sure to talk to Dad about it. Us unicorns don’t get involved with that element of organ donation. We’re the ones doing the work, not arranging for the work to be done. You really had no idea about these programs?”

“I had no idea until right before I called you,” I confirmed.

“I’ll make some calls,” Gloria promised. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing good. Can I bother you for a visit tonight at my place?”

“With or without Dad?”

“With would be nice but not required.”

“I’ll bring him. He could use some time around some sane sentients and good coffee. Today’s going to be a shit show for him.”

“When isn’t it a shit show lately?”

After heaving the sort of sigh indicating the shit show had been going worse than I even thought, she replied, “Good question. Just be careful, Lovell. It’s been a little too quiet. I’m worried.”

I was, too. “I’ll be careful.”

Exchanging pleasantries ate up ten minutes, and once I managed to get off the phone with the black unicorn, I let out a gusty sigh of my own.

Miranda eyed me. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

“We’re going to see a pair of black unicorns tonight to see what we can learn about organ donations, these living donation programs, and see if we can put together a plausible explanation for what’s been going on in Cauldron City. In the meantime, we’re going to investigate every park in the precinct until our shift is over, and we’ll stop at the station long enough to report in and check out our work gear.”

“We’re checking out our work gear? Why?”

While I couldn’t explain the reason for it, I could give her an honest answer. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“You’re not the only one.”

Wednesday, May 2, 2057

Lower North Lake, Precinct 15 3

Cauldron City, Nebraska.

Years of experience had taught me to spot suspicious behavior, and an older man in a gray sweatsuit armed with a pistol caught my attention. He captured Miranda’s attention, and with a startled squeak, the woman vanished. A moment later, tiny claws scratched at my ankle, and something long and furry scrambled up my leg and hid near my knee.

Fortunately for my sanity, the woman had either mastered the art of teleporting her clothes and gear elsewhere or she’d transformed with them. Had I needed to guard her equipment to save our necks from Annalee, what remained of my dignity would flee the building in record time. Aware I would have to file reports over preparing my firearm for use, I flicked off the strap that kept it secure in its holster. Magic ensured only I could access the weapon.

That same magic would send an alert to the station something was up.

That the subject of my interest had his gun out and ready meant trouble—and Miranda’s reaction indicated she knew who he was and had reason to believe he was out to get her. While Cauldron City had fairly lax rules on the use of magic, weapons were an entirely different matter, and one law would lead to an immediate arrest, assuming I could catch the bastard without putting my new partner at risk.

Nobody was to have unholstered weapons in or within a hundred feet of any public park in Cauldron City. Unauthorized usage of dangerous magics could also send someone to the slammer.

I could only assume the man in question was either dumb, ignorant, or lacked any care he’d broken the law where an officer, one wearing a body cam, could witness it.

Magic once again made certain my body cam had begun recording everything the instant I’d removed the safety strap from my gun.

In good news, I wore my vest.

In bad news, the spot Lance and Ruby had selected for me to be shot wasn’t covered by my vest, and if things went downhill in a hurry, I’d be paying Dr. Erik a visit earlier than our evening date at my place.

I’d still get the evening date at my place, but the black unicorns would spend most of it scolding me for daring to be shot in the line of duty. With how our past few weeks had been going, not only would I be calling in that shots were fired, I’d be reporting that I’d be making a trip to the hospital at the same time—and not the nearest one.

I’d be sent to Dr. Erik’s roost, as the black unicorn would go after any paramedic daring to send any Precinct 153 cop anywhere other than his hospital.

Sighing, I made certain I could draw my weapon at the first sign of trouble, headed the direction of the man with his firearm, and said, “Cauldron City parks are a no weapon zone in the city. You can have a firearm holstered in the parks, but they may not be handled in or within a hundred feet of a park, sir. Holster your weapon, or I will have to take you into custody and press charges.”

The man’s attention fell on me, and he blinked as though I’d kneed him in the gut. Then, to my astonishment, he stowed his weapon, making use of a shoulder holster he wore under his sweats. I appreciated he wouldn’t be able to draw his firearm in a hurry, but I’d have to report that people were back to using sweatsuits to conceal their weaponry.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was looking for someone.”

I raised a brow. “With a firearm out and ready to go? Most courts would consider that to be premeditated murder if anyone happened to be introduced to one of your rounds. I’ll tell you what. I’m in a generous mood today; you’ve already violated the law having your firearm out. The law says such firearms are to be confiscated. If you hand over the weapon and the holster, I’ll let you off with a warning. You can come to the station and retrieve it without charges being pressed, but we’ll ask you a few questions regarding this incident.”

He took his time thinking about it. “All I have to do is show up at your station and answer questions to get the weapon back?”

“That’s correct, sir.”

After a few more moments of thought, he took his sweatshirt off and began the tedious work of unbuckling his holster. “Can I just leave it here?”

“Absolutely.”

Keeping my distance would ensure both our safety, something the captain would praise me for once he reviewed the footage of the incident. I made certain to keep my body language relaxed, although I kept my hand near my gun and holster in case he decided to change his mind.

He didn’t. After shooting me a rather puzzled look, he backed away and left, his holster and firearm on the ground for me to retrieve. I waited for him to depart before heading over, dipping my hand into one of my belt pouches, and pulling out a pair of gloves, which I snapped on before picking up the holster by its buckle.

All the while, I carried a furry hitchhiker around one knee, and she squirmed here and there, her sharp, tiny claws scratching me when she lost her hold on my slacks .

Once I secured the firearm, I carried it back to my cruiser and stowed it in a locking box in my truck before getting my radio and calling in the disturbance, the acquisition of the firearm, and that we were on route back to the station. After unlocking the vehicle and sitting down, I dug in my slacks, located Miranda, and pulled her out. She took some mercy on me, deciding against biting or scratching me.

In some ways, she reminded me of a ferret, and I made the assumption she shapeshifted into a weasel of some sort. At around two feet long, I marveled she’d managed to cram herself around my knee without the man I’d spoken to—and disarmed—noticing her. As every other shapeshifter I’d met enjoyed when someone scratched behind their ears, I did my sacred duty, determining she had a soft coat I could spend many an hour stroking without complaint. A quick check indicated she’d emerged unscathed, and I closed my door with one hand and placed her on the passenger seat with the other. “All right. We’ll go back to the station, handle some paperwork, and look into the gentleman in that park. That is going to put a stop to investigating any more parks for the day, though. I had my safety snap unbuttoned, and that means I get to spend an hour filling out forms and explaining why I felt I might need to use force. This is part of the job everyone hates. Captain Farthan will hang me from the ceiling like I did his shoes if I don’t go by the letter on this.”

Miranda transformed, and to my relief, she had all her clothes and equipment, sparing me from Annalee’s wrath. Once the captain found out the cadet could transform without a fuss about her clothing, he’d be itching to get her trained and working on the streets .

Someone with her skills could get out of sketchy situations without injury or property damage—or giving civilians a show.

She spent a few moments checking herself over and sighed. “Safety snap? Do you mean the band that keeps the gun in the holster?”

I nodded, pleased she’d remembered one of many little details we’d thrown at her. “Before you’re issued a firearm, you’ll learn how to write up all the paperwork, have a solid understanding of when it’s all right to remove the strap, and the consequences of being a little too eager to access your gun. In this case, I’ll be given a pat on the back. Did you know him?”

“No, I just recognize when someone has a gun and is willing to use it, and considering there is a kill order out on me, I figured I’d just bail and hide. The closest place to hide was up your pants.” She winced and shot a sheepish look my way. “Sorry about that.”

“If I had a kill order out on me and an opportunity to hide when presented with someone who clearly had a desire to use his firearm, I would take advantage of said opportunity. However, I have questions about that man’s behavior.”

“I don’t think he realized who I was before I shifted. I’m not wearing my hair the same way, and my clothing is not what he would expect.”

I raised a brow at that, debating if I wanted to tell her that court cases were public record. When I got back to the station, I’d have to ask if the court had registered her punishment as community service. If so, anyone searching for her might be taken by surprise seeing her in police apparel.

From the front, only her lack of a badge distinguished her from a regular officer. From the back, there was nothing indicating she wasn’t a fully fledged member of law enforcement.

Annalee needed to get a cadet patch for her vest.

We weren’t scheduled to get new cadets for a while, and Annalee only acquired the needed number of patches to stick to our budget. The men of the station had learned not to question the budgeting wonders the woman performed.

Cauldron City wanted to keep as much money for itself as possible, leaving every station to battle for funding. Captain Farthan had better luck than Captain Fernandez when it came to securing budget. Captain Dupont struggled to the point his station came in at dead last for general pay and employee satisfaction.

The other captains had better luck than Captain Dupont, and I suspected it was due to them making use of their common sense.

Captain Dupont enjoyed stirring shit to see what would happen, and I looked forward to the day he stirred vigorously and found himself kicked out of the force.

We had enough trouble without dragons like him adding to the stockpile.

If I were to be reassigned to Captain Dupont’s station, I would quit. I wouldn’t even request a transfer.

I would quit, start packing my bags, and find a new force to work with in some other city—and I would tell them exactly why.

Captain Dupont never built people up. He pulled them down while they kicked and screamed.

Worse, he enjoyed it. When I thought of corruption within the force, the opal dragon came to mind first—and if anyone were to betray anyone, he would be my top suspicion.

The differences between the unsavory man and every other captain in the precinct could fill a notebook and leave no room to spare. If the going got tough, especially on the financial front, my captain and Captain Fernandez dug into their personal wealth to make certain their stations could continue operating at an appropriate level of performance and quality.

They recognized good people needed good pay, else the good people would go elsewhere.

Several of my fellow detectives had battled tooth and claw to escape from Captain Dupont and win a position at our station.

Paul was one of them.

If even a hint of a rumor went around the station about a transfer to Captain Dupont’s station, he was the first to notify everyone he could that he’d be out if any paperwork of that nature hit his desk.

When I got back to the station, after making certain I filed my report, turned over the firearm to be fingerprinted, and otherwise handled my paperwork, I would check on the elephant and make certain he wasn’t primed to earn yet another mark on his record.

It’d been a while since the elephant had done significant property damage, and I worried he was overdue.

“It’s as good a theory as any,” I replied, although I frowned at the other possibilities, including the real concern that the man hadn’t been going for the kill but for a capture.

A gun could kill, but it could also force someone into cooperation. Firearms were the preferred tool of criminals because someone armed with one could kill or coerce. The man’s behavior made no real sense to me.

Why openly carry? Had he wanted one of us to get a good look at him? Deescalating the situation protected the most people, and disarming him would only help for a short time. Those who acquired guns illegally could often do so with relative ease.

Laws were beneath them.

“That’s a nice way of saying you have no idea what’s going on, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “That was about as unusual as it gets. Honestly, I was expecting to take a round to the arm and spend the rest of my day being scolded by black unicorns before going home to be scolded by even more black unicorns. Why would he just hand over his firearm? What did he want us to see? Most who would be bold enough to carry a firearm into one of our parks does so with the intent to shoot.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen that man before. I just saw the gun, decided I had zero interest in being shot with said gun, and went for the safest place.”

Considering her lack of training, I wouldn’t judge her for her decision—nor would I make any commentary about her finding safety in my pants. “Until you’re armed and taught how to handle situations like that, I’d rather you shift and go into hiding. That’s the safest for you, for me, and for those around us. People like to think anyone can be a hero with a gun, but that’s not true. Firearms require training to use well, practice, and a great deal of knowledge on technique. I fit in several hours a week practicing. While I have magic at my disposal, my firearm is there for when using magic isn’t feasible. ”

“Or appropriate.”

The appropriate usage of magic vexed me on a good day. The lines changed daily, especially as more and more people opted to study how magic worked and decided to become a magicker. I’d been born one, discovering my abilities the first time I’d ever laid hands to a stone.

According to my parents, I’d made it float, and I’d spent hours playing with it and marveling over how a rock could fly. I still had the stone in the drawer of my nightstand, unmarked and serving as a reminder that I didn’t need runes or carvings or anything other than a stone to breathe magic to life.

The etchings served a purpose, and that was to refine my control over my magic.

When left to its own devices, anything could happen.

I wondered if Dr. Lerrans truly meant to kill all magickers or if he wanted to seek out people like me, who’d been born with magic whispering to them. I hadn’t known what those whispers had meant until the day I’d laid hands on my stone.

My magic had wanted to be found.

Did the rogue surgeon believe I could have done what medicine had failed to do? When grief came calling, people often made poor decisions founded on their surging, roiling emotions. I did my best to sympathize when faced with deep grief, although I’d learned I needed to enforce the law despite the reasons or excuses presented.

Heaving a sigh, I regarded my new partner, wondering if she carried a world’s worth of uncertainties on her shoulders as well. “You’re going to be subjected to numerous courses on the appropriate usage of magic. Even if you can’t use magic yourself, you’ll need to be able to make decisions on how to enforce the laws. It’s complicated, and the laws change often.”

“People discover new ways to do things, and not all of those things are legal—or should be legal. So the laws change as somebody figures this out.”

I nodded, appreciating she could connect the dots.

Some cadets needed a lot of coaching on how to critically think and examine a situation from all angles. Others thought they didn’t need to be taught, resulting in a battle with the experienced officers. The ones that could learn remained in the force.

The rest washed out.

“Who decides what is legal?”

“In Cauldron City, it’s a council of dragons, two of each color—and there needs to be two different clans representing each color. The Farthan and Fernandez clans represent the opals. The Dupont clan would like to be on the council, but the rifts the captain caused here has mostly eliminated them from the running. There are a few more opal clans in the city, but they’re not interested in being on the council. The Farthan clan isn’t precisely interested , but they do the job anyway.”

“That doesn’t seem like a bad thing to me. Those who don’t want power tend to be more responsible with the powers they are given.” Miranda shrugged. “It’s the ones that crave power that cause everyone else problems.”

She wasn’t wrong, something that would make explaining the rest of law enforcement politics difficult at best.

Captain Dupont and his clan had done a good job of setting the entire precinct back. We’d adapted—and we’d ultimately embraced the two competing stations. In a perfect world, such things wouldn’t have been necessary.

The respectable cops in Cauldron City cared nothing about the gender or physique of their fellow officers.

“Let’s just say that we have a great deal of unfortunate experience on that subject. If I tried to explain it all today, we’d never leave this park, and I want to get this firearm checked for prints so we can find out who that man was and what he was doing in the park.”

“Do you think he’s a local?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what I think, although I do think he was trying to send a message of some sort. Why else would he cooperate as he did? I haven’t a clue what the message might be, though.”

“I don’t know, either. Do you think I overreacted?”

“Honestly, in your shoes, if shapeshifting and hiding were an option for me, I’d take it. You followed the golden rule: do no harm. If we can deescalate a situation, we do. We’re still the bad guys to a lot of people, especially when they’re drunk.” I allowed myself to cross my eyes at the thought of dealing with drunk dragons. “Dragons are the worst when drunk. They get overly affectionate, and there’s little worse than attempting to shove a drunk dragon into holding. They want affection early and often, and when I’m trying to do my job, I don’t want to hug a dragon every other minute.”

Miranda giggled. “They don’t do that, do they?”

“They really do. They try to be dignified during office hours, but they don’t always succeed. Captain Farthan, if he’s legitimately scared something happened to one of us, will sprout scales, curl around the officer in question, and hiss at anyone who comes close. That’s only after one of the unicorns clears their health. If one of us has to go to the body shop for any reason other than a dragon, he will wait until the officer returns to work to stage an ambush. The experienced cops just pretend nothing is happening while secretly laughing at the current target’s struggles. The babies are usually too shocked to run away. It’s a coin flip if they end up victims, too.”

“People would pay good money to watch that, Valor.”

I grinned at the thought of profiting from our captain’s tendency to cuddle his targets into submission after a close call. “The opening volley is glitter and canned cheese, too. Once all the cops and support staff in the station have their way with you, you’re turned over to the captain.”

“It sounds like a rather strong deterrent to being injured while on duty.”

“It’s somewhat effective. If in doubt, contact dispatch, give the ladies your status, and beg for mercy. Sometimes, mercy is granted… but only sometimes.”

“And you won’t have any problems about having confiscated that firearm? Especially without getting his identification?”

“We use eagle-griffons to verify the truth in cases like this. If he wants his gun back, he’ll have to go to a police station. They’ll figure out which station has the gun, and we’ll be asked to bring it over. It’s complicated. And since he’d be essentially confessing he broke the law, we’ll have leverage if we need information. I doubt he’ll show up. The career criminals just get a new gun. It’s easier and less likely to end in an arrest.” I started the engine, tuned in the radio, and listened to dispatch. As my incident in the park was the primary discussion point, I assumed it was a slow day.

After the surge in dead weight cases, a slow day worried me.

What rose on the horizon, and when would the chaos hit?

Only time would tell.