Angel’s Guilty Pleasures

 

My eyes met Occam’s and his one good eyebrow lifted in agreement with my thoughts. Biological causation would be bad. A combo would be terrifying. PsyLED brass and the military had been creating response strategies involving militarized magical energies coupled with all the other elements of CBRNEP. None of the scenarios had resulted in manageable outcomes.

“FireWind is on the way from New Orleans. For now? Familiarize yourself with the site. Then you can start organizing the electronic file tree for PsyLED’s inquiry, take photos and notes, hand draw the crime scene, and start the prelim witness interviews.” She took a breath that ended in a frown. “Let’s take a quick tour of the basement. That’s a vision that’ll melt all the red off your lollipop.”

I would never understand what lollipops had to do with dead bodies. I followed Kent through the gaggle of officers at the end of the hallway and down the stairs to a landing where the stairs turned. There was a narrow window there with three houseplants on the ledge, and a table stacked with sky blue unis. Under the table was a huge plastic container for contaminated unis. I opened one of the super-strong mints and placed it on my tongue before we both dressed out in the null P3E unis. The one-piece biohazard uniforms had been designed for contact-based biological pathogens and had then been altered and spelled by the Seattle coven against magic. They covered the wearer from head to toe, starting at the oversized booties, rising up our legs to a waist that never fit, to the head cover that could be cinched over forehead and chin. To go with the unis were extra-thick spelled nitrile gloves and darker masks, which could be fitted to our faces to create a seal so that all air exchange had to pass through the specially treated null cloth.

The stench coming up the stairway was enough to make me nearly gag, even with the mint. Some people said they breathed through their mouths when they encountered bad smells, but that left my tongue coated with a nasty smell/taste sensation. That perception lasted longer than the smell alone and made me not want my dinner.

On Unit Eighteen I had gotten sort of used to foul smells, but this stench was in a category all its own. If I could have stopped breathing entirely, I would have. The scent was a sweet, sick reek of advanced rot mixed with . . . I didn’t know what. Mixed with other things I couldn’t identify. When we were dressed, T. Laine handed me a null pen to protect me from the paranormal energies and a cloth handkerchief with mentholated vapor rub on it. I took both and tucked the cloth inside my mask, near my nose, and the pen into a chest pocket of the uni.

 

Nell Ingram faces a dark craft known as death magic in the newest pulse-pounding paranormal procedural in the New York Times bestselling Soulwood series.

Nell Ingram is a rookie PsyLed agent, using the powers she can channel from deep within the earth to solve paranormal crimes. Together with her team, she’s taken on the darkest magic and the direst foes. But she’ll need to tap into every ounce of power she has for her newest case.

Nell is called to the Tennessee mansion of a country music star and finds a disturbing scene—dead bodies rapidly decaying before everyone’s eyes. The witch on her team, T. Laine, knows this can only be one thing: death magic, a rare type of craft used to steal life forces. PsyLed needs to find this lethal killer fast. But when a paranormal-hating FBI agent tries to derail the investigation, they find themselves under attack from all sides.

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