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He sighed. “There always is. What is it this time?”

“Ka-hal went after him, but missed.”

“Ah,” he said, “This would be the explosion in Swansea, then. I take it you were on the scene? Because, really, where else would you be when something dangerous is happening.”

I grinned. “I was there, and I survived unscratched.”

“Long may it continue,” he muttered. “Where is he now?”

“Eljin’s taken him to what Loudon believes will be a safe place. Once I get the address, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks. That it?”

“For now.”

“Enjoy the rest of your evening then.”

“You, too.”

I hung up then glanced down as the phone pinged. It was Eljin sending me the treehouse’s address. I sent back a number of emojis that included a bottle of bubbly and an eggplant, and got back a bread roll, a honeypot, and flames. I laughed, pocketed my phone, and then headed for the main street. Sgott sent me the address of his expert a few seconds later, so I hailed a passing cab and headed over.

The man who opened the door barely looked twenty. I glanced down at the message to ensure I had the right address, then said doubtfully, “Officer Downy?”

“Please, call me Harry.” He stepped back and waved me inside. “Sgott tells me you’ve a bug needing urgent removal.”

There were voices coming from the kitchen—a woman’s and a couple of children—so unless he’d started procreating very young, he had to be at least in his late twenties. “Yes indeed.”

“Second door on the right,” he said. “How long has it been in there?”

I entered the room, which appeared to be a cross between a study and a medical examining room. A vast range of books filled the shelves, and there were medical bits and pieces everywhere. “A couple of days. Why?”

“The longer they’re in, the harder they are to find and remove. This should be easy enough though. Where is it?”

“Back of my neck.”

He motioned me to sit on the chair next to the table and then moved behind me. His fingers brushed my neck and shoulders, quick and impersonal.

“Are you a cop?” I asked curiously.

“No, a medical examiner who specialized in electronic and magical causes of death. I’ve worked with the IIT for years now—and yeah, I know, I don’t look old enough.”

I grinned. “How long have you known Sgott?”

“About ten years.” He stepped away and retrieved what looked like a small scanner with a cone and syringe attached. “You’ll either have to remove your top or I can cut the back open. Your choice.” He paused. “I can call my wife in if you’d like.”

“That’s not necessary.”

Once I’d stripped off, he placed the small cone to the right of my neck, closer to my right shoulder than my spine. There was a soft click, followed by a soft humming. My skin was sucked up by the device, then pain flared as a short, sharp needle stabbed into the risen flesh.

A second later, he grunted in satisfaction and stepped back. I pulled my top back on and then turned around. He was holding a small tube with what looked like a metallic dot no bigger than a freckle inside.

“That’s the bio-tracer, I take it?”

He nodded and offered it to me. I took it somewhat gingerly, though I wasn’t sure why—it wasn’t like it could escape the tube and jump back into my skin.

“Despite its meager size,” he said, “it’ll hold enough charge to send a signal for another fifteen or twenty minutes. I suggest you place it on a bus or something similar to lead your followers astray while you escape unnoticed.”

I glanced at him sharply. “Would my coming here have put you and your family in danger?”