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"You've reached Denton's message center," His best friend's voice said, "I'm not able to answer you at the moment, let me know why you--"

"I've already told you six times already," Zikabar snarled at the phone. "Are you not picking up your messages?" He ignored the looks the agents he passed gave him. They were used to his occasional tantrum over Denton's idiotic behavior. Who turned off their phone in today's world? He brought up a different number.

"Steel Link, Security, Jacob speaking, how can we ensure your safety?"

"Jacob, I am so sorry to bother you again, it is Zikabar. Has there been any news? The television is all about the San Francisco blackout, but they are not indicating if anything is being done."

"Very little's getting out of the city, and the few times we hear anything it's kept vague because the targets are sure to be listening in on the calls."

Zee let you an exasperated breath. "I thought their phones were--" Zee stopped. Did Jacob know about magic? Many of the men had been read in after the attack, but Zee hadn't gotten a list of who. He hadn't thought it was important to know, now he wished he did. "Didn't Leroy and his team of slicer add more layers of security than I'm supposed to be happy with, as a representative of the Government?"

"So they said, but from what I understand, they're still using the established network and that's what the targets have gained control of. I can switch you to him, if you want, he'll be able to answer your questions better than I can."

"It's alright, the electronic side of this isn't something I understand enough to make that conversation worthwhile. I am sorry for being such a pest, but this information blackout is going to make my antlers fall off."

"I get it, the office's still filled with tension, I've never seen so many guys use sex to work that out. In my family it's exercised that's used for that."

He probably didn't know then. Their abundant sex drive would have come up in any conversation about magic.

"Give me a sec, Louise wants to talk with you."

There was the click of the line transfer. "Zikabar?" the corker spaniel asked.

"Speaking."

"I wanted to see if your team has received the document I sent them, they'd asked if we I knew anything about the early Nineteen hundred's Denver Strangler Murders. I did a sift through the media's archive and forwarded them what I found, but they never confirmed receipt."

Zee sighed, he'd forgotten about the basement team in all the chaos of Denton cutting all communication. "I will go check with them now and ensure they know to inform you."

"Thank you, Zikabar. If it helps, I am confident Mister Brislow is fine."

"Thank you." He disconnected the call and sent Marcus a message. 'Going to check in with the basement team if you need me.'

'I always need you, lover boy,' the reply came before he put the phone away. 'But I'll call you away from them if it gets to that. This isn't Denton's company, using you to satisfy my need around agents will not be received with the same disinterest.'

Zee licked his lips and considered making a detour by the Brain Room, to take care of his husband's need and their 'no sex at work' rule be damned. He was stressed and like Denton and his Society friends, he found sex to be a wonderful release.

He put the phone away.

He was the Special Agent in Charge, he had to set the example he wanted the others to follow his own needs be damned. Marcus had better be ready to fuck him senseless when they got home.

In the elevator he pressed the basement button, which earned him glances from the other occupant, but they no longer stared. They already knew he was eccentric by the colorful way he dressed, that he'd taken an interest in the basement team was simply another wrinkle in their boss' oddness. Zee loved his agents for how accepting they were.

He was the only one left by the time he reached his floor. The only rooms in the basement, other than those assigned to the basement team, were for the ventilation and electrical system, and old hard-copy files, from before the system had been updated to be fully electronic.

He heard the argument before he saw the open door; A woman speaking over a man. He couldn't make out the details except for something about symbolic.

He found his team in a different office than those that had been assigned to them. They had exchanged the small individual offices for one large room with their desks in a square with space to add more. Did they expect him to send others down here?

The black cat and yak were the ones arguing, each pointing to the wall showing a variety of spilled blood. He recognized one as bring from the cardinal's house in Denver, and because it was in grass, another had to be from the campsite in San Francisco. Where had they gotten that wall? He didn't remember getting a requisition for one.

"I have to admit that I like what you did with the room," Zikabar said in the lull as the two caught their breath.

The pangolin fell out of his chair in startlement. His attempt to scramble to his feet in the ensuing silence would be comical, if not for the terror on his face.

"Mister Malhotra Bodenman," the pangolin said, "I can explain. We needed--"

"I said I liked what you did, Mister Mortis, I was not being sarcastic. Just tell me that wall isn't something you hid in another expense report."

The pangolin looked at the wall. "No sir. It's from Processing. They upgraded two months ago when it started glitching, we... err... intercepted it before it reached the dumpster. Gary fixed it."

"I see. Very good."

"Can we do anything for you, sir?" the pangolin asked.

"Louse, from Steel Link wanted to know if you're received the files you asked for."

The pangolin looked at the other two. "You know anything about that?" He straightened his chair and sat.

"I don't," Jenifer answered.

"Me neither. I bet it's Carson, he's always finding excuses to talk to her."

Zikabar tilted an ear. "And where is Mister Carson?"

"On a food run." Richard answered, typing at his desk. "We worked through lunch and once Shawn's stomach started rumbling louder than their argument, I sent him out to get us all something, he should be back soon. Got it, yeah, sounds like something Shawn would ask about. I don't see that old of a case being useful here."

"And what is the argument about?" Zee asked.

"Jen here claims there's magic hidden in the blood platter," the yak replied with an eye-roll.

"I said no such thing! I swear Gary, you shoot down my ideas just because I'm a woman."

"No, I do it because you keep bringing magical crap into what's clearly just a serial murder case. Not everything is about magic."

Zee kept his smile from forming. Mister Loomis was correct, not everything was, but there certainly was more of it than he could know. "Miss Briton, why don't you explain your thought to me?"

The pangolin shot Zikabar a worried glance which he ignored.

The black cat brightened and tapped the surface of her screen. The images of the wall changed to show six different floors with blood splattered over them. Under each one was a blank square of the same size.

"These are six of the cardinal's murder scenes I trimmed out what didn't matter to my theory."

"Magic." the yak shook his head.

"Mister Loomis, please remain silent unless it is to contribute something productive. Please go on Miss Briton."

"Okay, so we all know blood dries quickly, but it takes a while to cure fully, it's like pain that way. It'll look and feel dry, but--"

"Miss Briton," Zee interrupted, "Please try to stay on track. I'm afraid my time isn't infinite."

"Sorry, okay, what that means in this case if that the actual color of the blood changes as it cures. It isn't something we can perceive, but with enhancements." She tapped a command and the dark red of the blood on the images changes to become a rainbow of colors showing all the varying hues.

"Looking at each of the images this way, I noticed something." She circled a section of the splatter. "Do you see it?"

Zee approached the wall. He pointed to the blood line she'd circled. "That is surprisingly straight, and if the colors at the top indicate where the blood is dryer than at the bottom, there's an indication that it thickens."

"Exactly as if someone had dipped their fingers in blood and traced the line. They pressed hard where it starts and as they reach the end lift their finger, allowing more blood to pool."

"Were there fingerprints?" Zee asked.

"Of course not," The yak said. Zee leveled his gaze on him and the man closed his muzzle. When he continued, he'd lost all snideness in his tone. "If the killer did it, he was wearing gloves. There were not prints not accounted for in any of the scenes."

"Gary's correct," the black cat said. "But who did it isn't really important to my theory. Once I notice that, I had the program look for any similar curing patterns and these six images are the result."

"Only six? Out of fourteen?"

"Out of sixteen," Richard said. "Two new kills were found overnight."

Zee nodded. He had to put Denton out of his mind and focus on his job.

"This only works with the scenes that were photographed within seventeen hours. After that too much of the blood has cured and the program can't see these smaller differences." Multiple areas among the pictures were highlighted.

"What does this tell us?" Zee asked. He knew what conclusions he was reaching, but he wanted their views, ones untainted by the knowledge that magic existed.

"The first thing," Richard said, speaking over the yak as he stood, "is that there's two time frames for the blood on the floor. Regardless of why any of us think it was done, that is agreed upon."

The yak nodded, if someone reluctantly.

"Second," the black cat continued, as she tapped the desk, "if that these are the same designs." Each highlighted section appeared on the blank square, spun and then overlapped until multiple section looked like they might match.

"And this is where the argument starts," the pangolin said. "Gary doesn't see what Jen does. I can sort of see it, but I'm worried I'm looking at it through her bias. Even you've admitted there're connections and symbolism in everything, Jennifer. There's no point denying that anymore. Shawn's been agreeing with Jen more and more, but I'm worried he's just falling in love with the idea there's more than can be rationally explained out there. It would make our job a lot easier if we could just say "magic!" and close the case."

"I expect it would," Zee said, while mentally rolling his eyes at the naivety the pangolin was exhibiting. Known magic existed didn't make it easier to solve a case, it just threw in yet more variable that had to be accounted for. "But I'm not sure how this helps us. We already know the killers are following the same blueprint."

"Yes," The black cat said, "But do you know where that blueprint originates from?"

"The first killer, the one who killed in Denver and Philadelphia."

She smiled. "What if I could tell you where he killed before that?"

Zee's fur stood on end. "He killed before?"

"Four times, with leaving that symbol, as far as I can tell. But his initial body count is higher."

"Why haven't I heard about that?"

"You have."

Zee tried to recall anything even resembling this, but nothing came.

The pictures on the wall vanished, except for the rendering of the symbol. A new picture appeared. More blood, but in grass this time. "You might remember this one."

"I'm afraid I don't--"

More pictures appeared, all of them with that blood splatter in them, but now he could see the rest of the scene, the desiccated bodies, the tents.

"The campsite?"

"Exactly." She removed the excess pictures. "Now, our killer didn't care about covering his tracks here. He probably didn't expect the scene to be reported before it rained, which would have made this impossible to do, but all I need to do is subtract anything that isn't blood and we get this."

An almost exact copy of the symbol became visible.

"But that's not all," she said. "In one of the later reports for San Francisco, they mentioned they found more blood splatter, but in three isolated parts of the camp." Three more pictures appeared. Patched of grass with blood among trees. Jennifer did the same process with each then set the resulting designs.

"They aren't the same," Zee commented, the overall differences were notable, although they all retained a level of similitude that was concerting.

She rearranged the order. "He was practicing."

Now Zee saw it, how the first one showed hesitation, clear deviation and each subsequent one was neater, closer to the final design.

The yak snorted. "Now tell him about how he drained the bodies of blood."

"Gary, I even said it couldn't be real, there isn't such a thing as vampires. I just said that if this was a movie, that would be the twist, we'd think we were in a regular murder mystery and boom, it would turn out this was a supernatural thriller."

Just like his life, Zikabar thought.

Magic. Fuck, this was actual magic. He remembered the argument between Denton and Martin about practicing the sigils because any mistake would create a backlash. This was what it was. The killer had done it until he knew he had it right so avoid creating a backlash.

Zee almost asked for a copy, so he could send it to Fred. If anyone might know what it did, it would be the lion. The problem was he couldn't come up with anything that would sound plausible. Even claiming he wanted to send it to an expert in the occult wouldn't work since Jennifer was their expert.

He called on years of dealing with high-stress situation and kept his voice neutral. "This is good work. Do you think you can write a report explaining what you told me in such a way no one will question your reasoning?"

The black cat looked at the pictures, then her desk. "I'll try? I... I mean, Gary isn't wrong, as soon as I saw the first line, I thought magic, and that's why I stuck with it, but I don't know how I can reword that so it seems all logical."

"And it isn't like anyone will bother looking at it," the pangolin said. "The instant they see who it's from, they'll laugh at it without even opening the file."

Zee sighed. The basement was such a vilified position every office was made aware of who had been relegated to it so they wouldn't accidentally work with one of them and soil their reputation.

Then he smiled. "Let me deal with that aspect. Write the report, Miss Briton, use your intuition as explanation for what you don't think you can entirely justify logically. God knows most of us had relied on their guts a time or twenty to bring a case to a proper conclusion. When it's do, send it to me, along with all relevant material and I'll make sure it goes to those in charge of the task force." It would take a while, but he'd get those pictures and then Fred could tell him what this was about.

But even without those, he had to tell Denton. Magic meant it would involve him, that was how his friend's luck ran these days.

He thanked them for their work again and leisurely walk out of the room, having to keep himself from sprinting to the elevator as a rottweiler stepped out of it in the distance.

The rottweiler looked at him in surprise and as soon as their path crossed he was running. Zee kept to a walk in case the last of his basement team turned. When he heard him asked why their boss had been there, Zee ran.

He had Steel Link ringing before the elevator's doors closed.

"Steel Link," a woman answered. "Louise speaking how--"

"Louise, I need to speak to Jacob."

"--can we ensure your safety?" She paused. "Mister Malhotra Bodenman, I'm afraid Jacob had to step out, I'm not sure when he'll be back, can I assist you?"

"I don't know. How are communications with Denton? The people with him in San Francisco? I need to get a message to him, it's important."

"I'm afraid that since he, Mister Cormoran, Mister Rowling, Mister Medeiros, Mister Lewiston, Mister Orr, Mister--"

"Orr?" Zee had been about to interrupt her regardless, the corker spaniel was a lovely lady, but she could be quite literal at times and she would list everyone who'd left with Denton. "Did one of the Orrs come to Denver before all this?" He tried to remember what he knew about an Orr being in the city, Denton had mentioned something.

"Yes, Damian Orr had been staying in the building since his return to Denver."

Zee slammed the elevator stop button. Of course, Damian had resurfaced after being imprisoned by his brothers. "What do you mean returned to the city? I thought he was already in the city."

"No, he flew out at some point, then returned."

"When did he fly out?" Zee asked, his hackles rising. She told him and Zee found he had trouble breathing. According to the forensic report, the Philadelphia murder had taken place six hours after that. How long was a flight to Philly? "When did he return?" he asked when he could talk again?

The answer nearly cut his legs out from under him. Seven hours after the murder in [track down the other murder in the US, if I haven't included it yet, add one]. It could be a coincidence, but with magic involved, he'd stop believing in that. Damian did magic, and his absence from the city matched two of the murder, and he was from San Francisco, so he would have been imprisoned somewhere there. Were the twins vicious enough to put him in a cave with just a fire to survive with? Did magic allow someone to live without food or water?

"Is there any way you can put me in touch with Denton, it's more important than ever that I speak with him."

"I can take a message and forward it to him when we manage to communicate with San Francisco, but I don't know how long that will be."

He cursed and Louise gasped. "I apologize. That won't work. Can I borrow your jet? I remember Denton mentioning he'd bought one for the company because of all those people he had to meet."

"Unfortunately, Mister Brislow used it to fly to San Francisco." Zee kept his cursing mental. "If you want, I can put you in contact with Mister Cormoran, I believe he has a private jet."

Zee found he could breathe again. "Yes, please do so." He'd have to work out the details while he was traveling. He needed to confirm Damian's movement, and even if it turned out the tiger was innocent, that this was indeed a coincidence, then at least Zee would be there to help his friend take down his son's kidnappers.