"What heritage?" Doyle asked.
"I don't know if it's true, but his mother always told him that he was from a one-night stand with a sidhe. He's tall enough, and his skin is paler than human normal, like yours," he said, looking at me. "And his," he said, indicating Frost.
"How old is your friend?" I asked.
"He's under thirty, like me."
I shook my head. "Then his mom was either lying or delusional."
"Why?"
"Because I'm the last child born to the sidhe and I'm over thirty."
Donal shrugged. "I just know what he said, and what his mother told him, but he was obsessed with the fact that he was half sidhe." He touched his ear implants. "I know I'm pretending, but I'm not sure he did."
"What's his real name?" I asked.
"You'll call the police and that will be that, if I tell you, so I'll explain first and then give you his name."
I wanted to argue, but finally nodded. "We're listening."
"Liam still wanted fey magic so he could be sidhe enough for his heritage so he began to try to design a spell to steal magic from other people."
"You mean their essence, like your other friend was doing?"
"No, not exactly. He wanted magic, not life force. I was naive last time, or maybe I wanted to be fooled, but I knew when Liam started saying similar things it was going to be bad. He found a way to create wands that help people with magic steal other people's magic. It won't help people without magic, but it's designed for wizards and other fey."
"Did you say wands?" I asked. I felt Doyle go very still beside me, and Frost moved around the desk to join Rhys at the man's side, not like bodyguards but more like prison guards.
Donal gave Frost a nervous glance, but said, "Yes, and I've seen it work. It's not a permanent stealing. It's like the wand takes a charge and their magic is a battery. They regain their power, and the wand loses power."
"So you have to keep recharging it," I said.
He nodded.
"How do you steal power?" I asked.
"Touching them with it, but he theorized that he could steal more power if he was willing to kill them. He seemed to believe that if he could take the person's soul all their magic would go into the wand."
"Did it work?" Doyle asked.
"I don't know. When he started talking crazy I cut ties with him, I didn't want anything to do with him. After what happened with Alistair, I'd learned that sometimes it's not just crazy talk. Sometimes people you thought were your friends will actually do the terrible things they talk about. It's not bragging; sometimes it's just crazy."
"Why not go to the police?" I asked.
"And tell them what? I barely got away without charges from the last time, so I'm a person of interest when things get weird, but more than that I wasn't sure he was going to test his theory. I couldn't tell the police I thought he might do it; what if he never did? He was one of their wizards, for the love of Goddess. They'd believe him over me."
"So you came to us because you're afraid to go to the police."
"Yes, but more than that, you understand magic and power better than they do. Even their other wizards aren't quite the same as you are."
"What changed your mind? What made you think to tell us?" I asked.
"The fey murders. I'm afraid that my ex-friend is behind them."
"What makes you think that?"
"It would take a lot of power to kill the supposed immortal, right?"
"Does your friend have that kind of power?"
"No, but his girlfriend does. She's this little thing and you think she's harmless and cute. A little sick, but cute."
"She's sick as in crazy?"
"Well, yeah, but I mean the relationship is sick. I mean, she's a demi-fey and he's my size."
"She's not one who can change size?" I asked.
He shook his head. "But she wants to, and she hates all the fey who can hide what they are since she can't."
"Isn't her glamour good enough for her to hide?"
"She can pretend to be a butterfly, but she isn't really good at glamour, or people always seem to see through her illusions. I've known others who were much better at it."
"So the wand wasn't for him, it was for her," I said.
He nodded. "Yes, and it worked. She was more powerful the last time I saw them. She used glamour on me, made me ... want her, see her as bigger, but she wasn't. I ..." He was obviously embarrassed.
He leaned on the desk, stretching his hand out, beseeching me. "I did things. Things I didn't want to do." He shook his head. "No, no, you're not going to believe me. I can see it in your eyes."
I wanted him to tell us everything he knew and I would tell the police he'd come to us. We were allowed to use magic to help our clients. Hell, it was one of the things our agency was known for, and I knew I was justifying what I would do next.
I stood up so I could reach across the desk and touch his hand. "It's okay, I know what it's like to have the powerful demi-fey affect you."
He looked at my hand on his. "May I hold your hand?"
"Why do you want to?"
"Because I'm elfstruck and just holding your hand would be more than I ever thought I'd get."
I studied his eyes. There was pain there and it was real. I thought about it, and knew that the more he touched me, the more likely he was to tell me everything. If he was truly elfstruck for the touch of my body, he'd give up every secret he'd ever known. I said, "Yes."
He took my hand in his, and there was a tremble to his hand as if it was much more important than it should have been. Frost touched his shoulder, but instead of being afraid, Donal stared up at him as if the touch was wonderful. He did have it bad.