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Grove sighed longingly as he stared at the whiteboard. “I’d like to study them,” he said.

“Dude,” Brody said. “You’ve gotta get over those things.”

Grove bristled. “I’m not referring to the mantasps—this time.”

“Oh?” Binx said.

“No. It’s rather the fae who brought the mantasps and boars out must have a rather unusual array of magic because fae are incapable of opening fae gates,” Grove said. “We rely on various animals to create portals.”

A nearby printer sputtered to life and spit out a report making the air smell like warm paper and pungent ink.

I watched it for a moment, deep in thought, then shifted my attention back to Grove. “Is there any other way to make a gate?” I asked.

“Well, elf magic,” Grove said. “And magic artifacts left over from their time that were specifically forged for such purposes. But most of those were destroyed.”

“You said most,” I said. “Is there a chance any of the Seelie or Unseelie kings or queens could possess one?”

“Perhaps, but not likely,” Grove said. “They’d have to pay a king’s ransom to purchase it. Speaking of which, I suppose we could use that tidbit to help us narrow down possible perps. It instantly makes the biggest Courts at the moment—like King Harel of the Seelie—more suspicious, as only Courts with enough money could pull this off.”

“If they’re using an elf artifact, that might even explain the weird magic I smelled with the mantasps,” Brody chimed in. “I’ve never smelled elf magic before.”

“Could be what I sensed with the boars, too,” Grove said.

Looking back and forth between the maps on the two whiteboards, I ventured another question. “What if all of this isn’t a succession fight between the fae Courts?”

Brody cocked his head. “Well, a fae is obviously involved. That was the predominant scent at both crime scenes.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s automatically a conflict between fae,” Grove said. “I said it before, Goldstein is neutral territory—it has to be, because of Tutu’s Crypta & Custodia. There’s no reason to make that area a war zone and risk Tutu’s wrath.”

“Then…why dump monsters on Goldstein Street?” Brody asked.

Binx made a noise in the back of her throat, and Sarge stepped into the office.

“Squad!” he shouted, his voice loud but still musical. “Gear up. The Cloisters just received a call: the boar has been spotted!”

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

Jade

Icrouched behind an overgrown bush that spilled over the side of a white picket fence enclosing a front lawn.

I kept my breathing even as I strained my ears, listening for the boar.

At my side, Binx shifted her weight flexing her paws, so her massive claws flashed in the orangey light the streetlights cast on the sidewalk.

She was in her cat form—a North American cougar. In this form she couldn’t talk, but Sarge had both her and Brody in their animal forms for tracking purposes—we couldn’t risk letting the boar slip away again.

“I don’t hear Medium-Sized Robert.” Grove sat pretzel-style on Binx’s other side, his leather bag sitting on his lap.

Medium-Sized Robert, Brody, April, and Tetiana were supposed to flush out the boar, chasing him toward our position. Binx, Grove, and I were supposed to take the boar out and Sarge was with Clarence and Juggernaut, who were ready to launch a surprise attack from the side if my team failed.

“It’s too early to expect them. Sarge said we had to be careful to control the boar so it doesn’t stampede,” I said, reciting the mission statement Sarge had repeated to us over the radio on our way to the site. “We can’t let it get away from us or damage the neighborhood.”

Damage would have been a bad look for the Cloisters since not only had the boar escaped us once, but now we were in a human neighborhood.

Well, mostly human. There are a few wizard Houses in this area.

House Tellier was a few houses behind us. It was hard to miss with its orange and yellow trim and memorable farmhouse/colonial style architecture.