Huber stared at the monstrous confection in my hand with a look that straddled the line between amusement and disgust.

"I'd say that's approximately two percent coffee. The rest is just sugar. Did you really need that many sprinkles?"

I tugged my cup closer, hunching over it like Gollum. "He mockseses the precious."

He released an unwilling chuckle and the sound came out strained. It was a sobering reminder that I still had to cough up some sort of explanation if I was going to keep him from telling someone else. All Huber knew was that I was one of Torelli's drug runners and that I was younger than I appeared. He also knew my full name and it wouldn't take him long to track down my family if he thought I was in serious danger.

We'd spent the first ten or so minutes catching up. I told him about my plan to bail on Torelli and resume a semi-normal life, which he wholeheartedly endorsed. He apologized for being MIA for a few weeks. He'd gone on his annual trip to the Huron Mountains in Michigan to photograph the wildlife. It was his first time going alone, without his friend Jacob, who'd passed last year. I knew we were stalling before we had to get to the meaty topic at hand.

My eyes dropped to my coffee as I tried to come up with an explanation that wasn't going to have him calling the cops or a mental ward. There was a veritable mountain of whipped cream on top of my mocha latte. A mudslide of chocolate syrup and sprinkles rolled down the sides and threatened to spill over the edge of my cup. I scooped off the perfect swirly peak and popped it into my mouth while I mulled it over.

"I can do magic," I said finally, deciding that starting with the truth would be easiest.

Huber's eyebrow quirked but he didn't laugh at me. A promising start.

"Magic? Like pulling rabbits out of hats and making your assistant disappear? Misdirection and tricks of the light?"

It was my turn to release a weary laugh. "No. I'm afraid not. It's real. What you saw was called a veil. It can render the subject invisible."

He leaned back in his chair in a way that would have made every elementary school teacher I'd ever had screech. He ran a hand through his hair. "You do realize that sounds insane, right?"

"You saw it happen twice. Once at the crime scene and again at the precinct."

His cool eyes narrowed on me and he let his chair settle back onto all four legs. "About that. What were you doing there, Catherine? It's not the place for a young girl."

I bit back the urge to tell him that I was not a little girl. Blurting that petulantly only made me sound exactly like a kid trying to act grown-up. Instead, I shoveled another spoonful of whipped cream and sprinkles into my mouth, keeping my tongue busy until I could talk like a mature adult.

"She was supposed to meet me there for a deal. She's one of Torelli's best customers."

Some sort of emotion flickered in his eyes. I couldn't read it before it completely disappeared and trying to get a read on his emotions was a bust as well. He was keeping whatever he was feeling close to the chest, metaphorically speaking.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that. You must be upset."

I took a slurp of coffee, barely tasting the much-needed sugar. Guilt churned in my stomach, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. The truth was I hadn't liked her much. I'd barely known her. So I wasn't sure why I was getting so bent out of shape over this. All I knew was that I had to do something.

"The thing that killed her wasn't human."

Huber's eyebrow bounced up once more. "What do you mean?"

"Magic is real and so are monsters. I'm new, so I don't know much about it yet, but the reading I did showed me her last few minutes. I got a good look at whatever did the killing. It's big, it's strong, and it's not something the cops can handle. She was in a lot of pain and you can't separate yourself from the reading. It was like I was Claudia. She was so scared, so hurt..."

I trailed off with a shudder and tears pricked my eyes. "I can't just let whatever it was get away with it. I have to find out what it is and turn it over to Mr. Dresden."

Huber had gone pale behind the day's worth of beard he hadn't bothered to shave off, skin adopting the color of skim milk. The churning in my stomach only intensified. Great. Now I was freaking him out. He struggled to marshal his expression for a few seconds before he finally asked;

"And you think that this Mr. Dresden can help catch the murderer?"

I nodded vigorously. "He's a wizard. Way more powerful than me. If I can give him even a hint of what we're dealing with, he'll be able to handle it."

Huber mulled that over for another few seconds before nodding to himself. "Okay. I'll help."

I paused midway through wiping a dollop of cream from my nose. "Huh?"

"I said I'll help you, Catherine. You shouldn't be gallivanting all over Chicago on your lonesome looking for monsters."

I could have pointed out that I was being watched over by the shadow of a fallen freaking angel. Stubborn as Lasciel was being, I didn't think she'd actually abandon me to my fate if I ended up in a bind. If I died, she was right back in her coin, which had probably landed itself in a vault in the Vatican by now. Huber was at a disadvantage in that he was a balding, middle-aged man with no magical talent whatsoever.

I didn't say any of it aloud. My throat was too tight for speech. He wanted to protect me. I wasn't sure what I'd done to earn his or Anna's affection. I was dead certain I didn't deserve it after all the deception I'd sold them both.

"You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Oh, I do. But I still don't think you should be going out there alone. And I trust the 9mm I have at home over whatever...erm...powers you may or may not possess."

I felt like I should be insulted, but shrugged it off. If we got ourselves ass deep in alligators, he'd see I was telling the truth.

"Thank you," I whispered.

He tipped his cappuccino back and downed it in one go, wiping the foam from his mouth when he was done. He offered me a shaky smile. He still looked too pale. What we were about to traipse into was going to give him nightmares enough for a lifetime. I hoped someday he'd forgive me for that.

"You finish your route for the day, Catherine. We don't want Torelli any angrier at you than he is already. We'll meet up tomorrow."

"Where?"

"The morgue."

The Illinois route I ran for Torelli took seven and a half hours round trip, assuming traffic wasn't hellish. And of course, it was my luck that there'd been a ten car pile-up on I-55 on the way back from Peoria, stretching it out to a nine-hour route. I'd left Chicago at four in the afternoon and didn't drag my ass back into bed until the wee hours. I didn't even bother trying to return to Anna Ash's apartment. I'd only end up waking her, and there'd be more questions than I was willing to answer.

So I crashed at a small, barely habitable hotel instead, catching a few hours of sleep before I had to meet Huber at the morgue at nine.

The morgue was located on West Harrison Street, which was planted firmly in an industrial park. It was perched near the freeway, which was handy for my purposes. Easy getaway if something went wrong.

The place itself was fairly pretty, in a functional sort of way. Wide green lawns, kept scrupulously cut to conform to city ordinances. There were sculpted trees and bushes. It had a nice view of the skyline as the morning shook off its sleepy pastels and donned a more leaden color as the day progressed. Winter was coming unseasonably early. I could feel it in the scrape of the wind against my face.

I'd been forced to get up extra early to liberate my car from the impound lot it'd been hauled to. I was sure that even now some poor maintenance worker was puzzling over the shorted-out electronics in the place. So by the time I pulled my car into the visitor's parking lot, I was dragging.

Huber was waiting outside the doors, as we'd agreed, back leaned casually against the stone, hunching beneath his heavy coat. The tips of his fingers were turning pink and I felt bad for keeping him waiting in this cold. His face broke into a small, relieved smile when he spotted me.

"Ready to go?" he asked in an undertone.

He sounded nervous, which I found a little funny, given that he worked for Marcone. Surely he'd been asked to do worse in his tenure than sneak an underage practitioner into the morgue?

"Yeah, give me a second."

I directed a small effort of will toward the cameras that watched the morgue doors. It was a little obvious, maybe, but I didn't want to take the chance someone might spot me blinking out of sight on the footage. I wasn't leaving any evidence that could be used to track me, no matter how arbitrary it might seem. Huber jumped when they emitted small pops and sparks began to stream from them.

"Was that you?" he asked, turning wide eyes to me.

"Yeah. I'll mail them a check for the repairs when we're done. I hate doing stuff like this, but I don't see that we really have a choice. Are you ready?"

Huber sucked in a breath and nodded. "As I'll ever be."

I raised my hand and a shimmering veil sprang into being without effort. Huber stared at the place I'd disappeared, blinking a few times before he shook his head. "Bizarre."

He took sure, confident strides toward the doors and held them an extra few seconds to let me slip in after him. He headed for the Office of the Medical Examiner and knocked, waiting for the security guard inside to acknowledge him, flashing a badge when he finally lifted his head from the paper.

The door buzzed and then clicked open, and Huber and I performed the song and dance yet again, Huber lingering in the doorway long enough to let me pass.

The guard was heavyset and strained the buttons of his uniform.

"Phil," Huber said jovially. "How are you?"

"Been better," he grunted. "What are you here for Huber? Haven't seen you in a while. What'd the brass miss this time?"

"We're not sure yet. I'm just reviewing the effects left on the body of our torn-up Jane Doe. Has Dr. Brioche taken a crack at the body yet?"

"Don't think so. Think the girl's in exam room three. Bastard's freaking thrilled to have a high-profile case. She's not a Jane Doe anymore. Know who she was?"

He tapped the front of yesterday's newspaper, the one with Claudia's picture beneath the headline.

"Claudia Danforth. Rich kid. A big deal in some circles. So I know she's on the docket soon. If you want to take your pictures before he gets there you better skedaddle."

Huber gave the guard a smile and a grim little salute before taking off down the hallway. This wasn't his first time around the place, apparently. I struggled to keep up, moving slower than Huber so the slap of my tennis shoes on the tile floor wouldn't draw attention.

We arrived at exam room three about five minutes later and Huber glanced both ways down the hall before ducking into the exam room, leaving the door slightly ajar for me. I hesitated for just a second before ducking in after him. Logically there was nothing to fear from the dead. But this whole place still gave me the creeps.

Huber was already thumbing through a stack of paperwork when I entered the room. My breath came out a little foggy when I expelled a shaky exhale. This room was cold. Colder even than the unseasonably chilly air outside. The room was still dark but I could make out at least one wall full of steel refrigeration units. A large metal gurney had been pushed off to the side of the room and, with little else useful I could do, I strode over to retrieve it.

Huber let out an exultant sound and pulled a slip of paper from the bunch, brandishing it at me. "Aha! Here we are. Found our girl."

"Alright. Let's fish her out of the deep freeze quickly, then. You heard that Phil guy. The doc will be in any minute."

Huber selected a unit that hit him about waist height and pried it open. Cold plumed out into the air at once, curling tendrils of vapor obscuring the shape within for several long seconds before it dissipated. Huber slid the compartment out as far as it would go, revealing a thick black body bag on the slab.

My stomach performed a nervous arabesque as Huber lifted the bag gingerly from the slab and deposited it onto the gurney. It was really beginning to hit home that I was actually doing this. I didn't know how Harry managed to handle stuff like this. I winced as Huber drew the zipper down and parted the heavy plastic to reveal Claudia Danforth's prone form.

Claudia somehow looked worse than when I'd seen her last. Without the sun to cast a hint of color on it, her skin had adopted an ashy gray color. The skin looked waxy, and the damage inflicted almost didn't look real.

Huber examined my face anxiously. "We can stop, Catherine. No shame in that."

The careful observation was enough to snap me out of my fugue state. This wasn't about me. Claudia would be no better off than when she'd started if I gave in to my squeamishness.

I approached the body carefully, pausing when I reached his side.

"What are we looking for?" Huber asked in an undertone.

"Anything," I answered truthfully. "Anything that doesn't look right."

I studied her body, bare but for her underwear. Her hair was a mess, caked with grit and blood. There were some sticks and even a feather trapped in her newly dyed hair. The feather was almost easy to mistake for bark, in the dim light available. It looked like it might belong to a screech owl. Did that mean she'd been killed in the woods?

My eyes kept drifting back to the most obvious damage. I ran my fingers in the air above the missing pieces. Calves. Thighs. Upper arms. And now that I was standing up close, I could see that large chunks of the backside and flanks were gone too. Just gone. Carved away by something sharp. Where was the rest of her? Why had the monster taken those parts specifically? Some sort of ritual, maybe?

Lasciel's soft snort of derision was enough to make me jump. She'd been keeping up our stubborn stalemate for a while now.

"What?" I hissed back at her. "Plan to jump in with something useful, Lash?"

"You're overthinking things. What do all those areas have in common?"

I frowned down at Claudia's body. Biceps. Calves. Thighs. Glutes. Flanks.

"They're all muscle groups."

"Correct. And none of those parts were found on the scene. Which means the killer still possesses them. To what point and purpose, my host?"

An ugly thought began to congeal in my mind, aided unhelpfully by pictures fed to me by Lasciel. Images I'd watched on a History Channel special about the Korowai Tribe in Papua New Guinea. One of the last surviving people groups to actively practice cannibalism.

"He's eating them," I whispered, fighting down the bile that coated my throat.

"A creature native to this area," Lasciel mused in the patient tones of a parent guiding their dim child to a conclusion. "A creature that shrieks before it kills. A creature that consumes human flesh. A creature that attracts owl familiars to the places it feeds. Can you finally guess what creature it is, my host?"

I saw it. Boy howdy did I see it. And now I wished I could go back to unseeing it.

"What's going on, Catherine?" Huber said in an undertone. "What do you mean?"

"Our killer is eating its victims," I said again, speaking to him directly this time.

"How do you know?"

"Because," I said, expelling another shuddering breath. "Our killer is a Wendigo."