"So you've concluded that all the thefts are connected and aimed at carrying out some kind of powerful ritual," Lombardi summarized, steepling his fingers in front of him.
Detective Li nodded.
"What do you mean by blood sacrifice? Is someone going to be killed?"
It was one of Zeyang's fears. "We don't know, Chief. When I asked Lu Shen, he said it depends on the ritual. In any case, no one has been sacrificed for centuries."
"That doesn't reassure me."
"I understand. The three suspects have disappeared—most likely they have someone protecting them."
The werewolf nodded. "The suspected sorcerer is registered with the guild, but they refuse to cooperate. They claim they have no information about the man and don't know who he had close dealings with."
"I assume he's still a member."
"He's entitled to their lawyers until he's declared guilty."
Zeyang grumbled, "Damn corporations."
Lombardi laughed. "Don't complain, Li. I'm the one who has to navigate the webs of power that govern this city."
"Aren't we supposed to be impartial?"
"Zeyang, you're an idealist. Stay that way and leave it to others to ensure this institution remains free. Now get back to work!"
With a laugh, the Seeker stood and left.
---
Magic woke him in the middle of the night. Lu Shen rose, tense and ready to react, and headed toward the garden, magic already gathered in his palms to hurl at whoever was trying to break into his home. He knew the shield hadn't failed and no one had managed to enter, but he wasn't certain they had left either. The surveillance cameras showed nothing, so he stepped outside into the garden.
The silence was thick as a blanket, the air damp with the night's cold. He checked the magical net and found the tear. Clean, but not large—as if the intention had merely been to test the shield's strength, not to shatter it. He mended the tear, then went back inside.
As the warmth of the house met the night's chill, he shivered and went to prepare a cup of tea.
He picked up his phone and checked the time. It was nearly two in the morning. Hesitating, he looked at his chat with Zeyang: he had promised to warn him if anything happened, but he didn't want to worry him unnecessarily.
In the end, he decided it could wait until morning.
Tea in hand, he reviewed the surveillance footage, but whoever had torn the mesh had been careful to keep their distance.
Back in bed, he picked up the book from his nightstand and opened it.
After a while, he realized he hadn't read a single paragraph. He kept wondering what importance the incense burner held and why they wanted it so badly—and whether it was truly the object they were searching for.
At that point, he got up and went to the library, where he began consulting the tome he had lent to Zeyang, looking for information.
At five in the morning, he fell asleep on the couch with yet another book in his hands.