Free Trace of Magic by Diana Pharaoh Francis

they could go farther, Price stepped out. “Diamond City PD. Drop your weapons.”
    “FBI. Put your weapon down,” came one booming voice.
    There was a tense moment, and then Price said quietly. “Show me your ID.”
    There was a rustle of fabric.
    “Now show us yours,” came the first voice, low and angry.
    Another slide of fabric, and I felt the tension drop, but only a tiny bit.
    “It’s all right,” Price called. “Come on out. They’re legit.”
    I tucked my gun back into my coat pocket and rose slowly. Taylor did the same. She grasped my hand tightly.
    Three men and a woman stood in a semicircle inside the door. The men were your basic clean-cut high-and-tight soldier types with bad suits and wrinkled trench coats. The woman had long blond hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. It emphasized the sharp ridges of her face and her slightly upturned eyes. She looked like she she’d eaten a rotten egg. She glanced around speculatively, ignoring the pissing contest among the four men.
    “Where is Joshua Reist?” She asked, her gaze stabbing first at Price, then at me, and settling finally on Taylor. “You’re Taylor Hollis, correct? Where is your boyfriend?”
    “I don’t know,” Taylor said coldly, her chin rising as she let go of my hand.
    My gut clenched. If they knew Taylor’s name, then they’d been watching Josh for a while.
    “Miss Hollis, if you know what’s good for you, you won’t try hiding him.”
    “She isn’t hiding him,” I said. “And what business is it of yours?”
    There was something about the female agent that set my teeth on edge. She was predatory, in a sly, secretive way. I didn’t trust her at all. I got the impression she didn’t care much about the people she protected; she just wanted to get the bad guys. The victims were only interesting because they made it possible for her to attack.
    The woman reached into an inside pocket and pulled out a folded paper. “We have a warrant for his arrest.”
    “What for?” Price asked.
    She eyed him coolly, tucking the paper away. “That’s FBI business. Now produce Mr. Reist.”
    I had to wonder if she was even the slightest bit curious about the mess in the condo or why we were there. If so, she wasn’t asking. She also didn’t seem a whole lot interested in interagency cooperation. Not that I could blame her, really, since most cops were corrupt, Price being one of them. All the same, maybe someone should tell her she could catch more flies with sugar than salt.
    “He’s not here,” Price said.
    “I see,” she said, sounding like she didn’t believe him. “Where is he?”
    “No idea. There appears to have been a struggle.”
    She glanced at two of her men. “Martin and Josephson, go take a look.”
    Two of the agents strode down the hall. It was all of ten seconds later that one returned. “You’re going to want to see this,” he said to the woman.
    She looked at the three of us. “Stay put,” she said. “Watch them, Cranford,” she told the last of the agents and strode down the hall. She was wearing a tailored dress and high heels, which looked soaking wet. They looked expensive, too. No wonder she was pissed.
    Price had holstered his gun and now came to stand with Taylor and me.
    “Don’t say a word to them,” he said beneath his breath. Fury lit his sapphire eyes. I didn’t blame him. The agents were treating us like suspects.
    On the other hand, he was an enforcer for the Tyet. Maybe he was really saying: Don’t talk or else . None of the Tyet factions wanted the FBI in their business, and they considered everything and everyone in Diamond City their business. I drew slow breath and blew it out. I should have stayed in bed this morning.
    “Hey. Keep quiet,” Cranford said. He had a bull neck and a round head, and his hair bristled from his head like a porcupine.
    “We’ll talk if we damned well please,” Price snarled.
    That caught Cranford up short. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to