A/N: Sorry for how long it's taking me between each of these chapters, school's just started up again and I'm crazy busy with Modern Physics and Multivariable Calculus (cringe). This is the Beta'd version.

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The ride to the crime scene was wholly uneventful, despite Castle's best attempts. For the most part Beckett and Murphy talked police talk and Dresden was absorbed in the crime scene pictures, jotting down notes and what appeared to be runic symbols on a red-covered pocket notebook. He would copy down a symbol and then write English words around it, occasionally crossing them out or drawing lines between words. It reminded Castle of how he storyboards for his books, picking out important themes and drawing connections between them. After a while of doing this Dresden put away his notepad into his coat, groaned and ran his hand across his face.

Castle jumped at the chance to have a conversation.

"Can't figure out what it all means?"

Slowly dragging his hand down his face, Dresden looked over at Castle. "No, I know pretty much what this is supposed to do."

Castle raised an eyebrow at this. "So what's the problem? If we know what the spell does, then we know what the killer wants right?"

"Nope."

Castle furrowed his brow at this. It seemed simple enough to him, but then again he only understood Michelle's description of magic as she had told it, so perhaps there was more to it.

Dresden moved one of the pictures of the crime scene—one that had a view of the full circle—so that it was between the two of them in the back seat. "There are two things that we still need to find out. The first is, why did whoever did this used this kind of circle. It just doesn't make any sense. He's using techniques from different sides of the planet within the same phrase in some places."

Castle picked up a picture that had a closer view of one part of the circle. "You mean like right here? It looks like it starts in Egyptian and then changes to Latin."

Dresden nodded. "Good eye. That's very uncommon in magic practitioners; people usually pick one style of pictographs and language and stick with that. I, for instance, use Latin because that's how I was taught. But I also know people that use Norse or Egyptian for the exact same thing that I use my Latin for and get similar results. Magic is a very personal process. The language or symbols that you actually use are only as important as the magic user deems them. I guess you could say it's like using a standard math equation but choosing your own variables. This circle is a combination of already existing equations that have been thrown together to create one giant equation where different variables can stand for the same thing."

"So what you're saying is that whoever's doing this is just mashing together similar magical spells from around the world into something that works? Doesn't that take a lot of skill to get them to all work together?"

"That's the confusing part. While it would take a great deal of skill in order to put all these together, someone with that skill would have also known that it would be easier safer to use one system of pictography to create the circle. By combining all these different kinds, if it isn't done just right, you could very easily kill yourself. The very creation of this circle is a contradiction of the creator's skill."

Castle thought about that for several seconds. That truly was odd. "Is it possible that it was a group of people that did this?"

"No way." This response came from Beckett. "The more people that are at a scene, the more evidence they'd leave behind. The place was spotless. It was just one person. I don't need magic to tell me that."

Castle found it funny that Beckett was getting so worked up about this. He liked how her eyes narrowed ever so slightly and lit up with fire when she was angry or challenged. She could give as well as she got, and Castle hadn't met many women like that.

"But magic does tell us one thing that we didn't know before," Sergeant Murphy's voice broke Castle's Beckett-focus train of thought.

Beckett turned to look at Murphy. "Really? And what could that be?"

Murphy turned slightly in her chair so that she was talking to everyone in the car. "Well, if I understand what Dresden's saying about this spell—which I'm getting better at by the way—then this is very dangerous, and any experienced Wizard would find a different way to do it. So, what kind of people typically carry out very dangerous things that require a decent amount of skill even if they have little to no experience?"

Castle leaned forward in his seat, "Oh! A profile!"

Beckett sighed. "Most likely someone between the ages of 16 and 25. Given that the nature of the crime is linked to the occult, we can also assume the murderer was a loner in school. Apart from the occult aspect, that's one of the standard profiles for violent murders. That's nothing new to the case."

Castle felt like defending the visitors. "Yes, but now we've narrowed it down to one profile thanks to an expert opinion."

Even though he couldn't see it, Castle knew that Beckett was rolling her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes. Once again Castle's mind was interrupted from appreciating the aesthetic nature of Detective Beckett when Dresden spoke up.

"He's not over 20."

Castle and Beckett both turned to look at Dresden, but Castle beat Beckett to the question. "You know who did this?"

"No. Why would you think I did?"

Castle settled back into his seat, but he could see that Beckett was looking at Dresden every few seconds out of her rear view mirror. She was always in cop mode.

Murphy turned around in her seat to face Dresden. "They aren't used to how you answer questions very specifically with little empirical evidence in the middle of conversations."

"Would you mind explaining how you came to this revelation?" Beckett was getting annoyed.

"Well, with someone committing crimes like this, my people would figure out who it was if they were much older than 20. I'm 90% sure that whoever's doing this is new to the magical community and hasn't even been doing this for several months. Most likely, the murder in Chicago two weeks ago was his first."

"So people aren't born with their powers? They discover them when they grow up like in Harry potter?" Castle was having a great time picking Dresden's brain on this subject. He also noticed the grimace that crossed Dresden's face at the mention of Harry Potter.

"I hate those books, but yes, generally in later puberty magical powers start to show."

"We're here." Beckett announced as she pulled the car to a stop. The forensic team was already set up and the techs were inspecting the ceiling and support structure in the ceiling. Everyone got out of the car and Dresden removed his staff from the trunk and threw a grey cloak over his jacket.

As they all walked toward the scene Beckett resumed her questioning.

"How do you know it's a man?"

Dresden pointed toward the building with his staff, "All the runes on the circle are in the masculine form, both for the host and the recipient."

Castle had started to write things in his notebook. "So this was like some kind of soul swapping? Was he summoning a demon? Enchanting a bunch of brooms to do his chores?"

Dresden shook his head. "Close on first guess, but not on the second two. He was stealing and fusing the victim's soul to his own. In reality, this won't actually empower a person very much; not many people can actually use their own soul for magic."

Beckett rolled her eyes. "All right, but what about the people you were talking about earlier? Who exactly are they?"

"Well, think of them as a kind of neighborhood watch for the magical community. It may not sound like much, but trust me, they know what they're doing."

Beckett turned to Murphy. "Do you know who he's talking about?"

Murphy nodded. "I've met some of them briefly, but what Dresden said it true. They take their job very seriously."

"Should not everyone take their job seriously?" The voice came from Castle's side, causing him to jump slightly and let out what could in no way be considered a manly yelp. The source of the voice was a rather round man of about average height. On his head was a grey fedora that matched his grey cloak which was worn over his grey three piece suit. The wall of grey appearance was only set off by his bright emerald tie, ring and walking staff which, if you looked closely at it, bore ruins along the length of the shaft, similar to Dresden's staff.

Dresden walked over towards the man and extended his hand. "I would argue, Vincent, that there's a difference between taking something seriously and being obsessed with it."

Vincent took Dresden's hand. "A matter of opinion my good man." Letting go of Dresden's hand he turned to the rest of the group. "If you would kindly excuse us, I must speak with Mr. Dresden in private for a moment." Vincent moved away from the group and waited about ten feet away.

Taking a few backwards steps from the group in the direction of the Warden, Dresden waved in hand in a shooing manner. "I'll catch up with you guys inside. These guys don't like working with cops, but they'll work with me. This'll only take a couple minutes." With that Dresden turned around, and the two men walked towards the road talking.

Turning back to the warehouse and rubbing her head, Beckett addressed Murphy, "I take it that he was one of those neighborhood watchers that Dresden was talking about?"

Murphy gave a crisp nod of her head. "Yep."

"Seem like an eccentric bunch of people.

Murphy gave another nod. "Most are."

"And you work with these people a lot?"

Another nod. "It's the job."

Beckett stole a glance at Castle. "They don't pay us nearly enough."

This got a laugh out of Murphy. "Not by a long shot."

Normally, Castle would have said something to retort Beckett's jibe, but he was caught up in thinking about the case so far. He had worked on many different cases with Beckett, but this one was unique in several ways. Even when he had been working on the Buonsi murder, a case that would normally seem very similar to this one, it had a very different tone to it.

It was Dresden and Sergeant Murphy. they were different from normal cops that Castle had seen in New York. Dresden was like some odd combination of a Clint Eastwood Cowboy and Gandalf the Wizard, marshalling the wild world of magic and punishing the evil wizards that cross his path. Then there was Sergeant Murphy. Despite how she acted, Castle knew that she believed everything that Dresden said. Not only that but she trusted him. It was obvious that the two of them had been through a lot together, but Castle wondered what she had seen that had lead to her firm belief in the existence of magic. So here she was, a regular human cop trying to capture and punish the evil wizards alongside Dresden. Castle thought it would make a pretty good book, maybe even a series.

Once they got into the warehouse, Beckett walked Sergeant Murphy through the crime scene, which revealed nothing new to either of them from what had been discussed in the station.

"Detective Beckett!" A tech on a ladder over the circle waved his hand, "We've got something."

Beckett practically ran to the ladder, while Castle and Murphy took a fast walk. Another ladder was placed next to the one the tech was on. He was currently taking photographs of the cross support beam while Beckett climbed her ladder, eager to see the first bit of new evidence in two days.

Murphy turned to Castle. "She's pretty worked up about this one. Is something about this personal to her?"

Castle smirked. "No, she just doesn't like to lose. To her, until she's caught the bad guy, she's losing."

Castle saw a look of understanding passed over the Sergeant before she smiled and nodded. He supposed she had a similar attitude when working a case. The tech explained the evidence he had found. The thin layer of rust on the support beams in the open ceiling over the circle showed two instances of being worn away in a circular pattern around the beam.

"Looks like a rope was wrapped around these two spots and used to support something heavy. Any chance we could find some fibers left behind and match it to what rope he used?" Beckett reminded Castle of a cat watching its prey.

"We'll see what we can find. It's been several days since the rope was here so most fibers may no longer be here. If we find anything you'll be the first to know." Castle saw the tech relax slightly when Beckett started climbing down the ladder.

Castle held the ladder as Beckett descended it. "Well, it's nice that we're finally making some headway again, but is this really going to help?"

Beckett sighed and turned to Murphy. "See what I have to deal with?"

Castle looked between the women. "What?"

Murphy moved to stand closer to Beckett, her voice sounded like she was reciting from a textbook. "The more evidence you find, the more you know about the case. Every bit of evidence fills in a gap in the story of what happened here."

Castle held his hand in front of him in a placating gesture. "I know all that. I'm just saying that there's a killer out there and we need to find him and stop him. All we have is rope 's not like we found a list of places where this guy had been seen and where he might be staying."

Beckett laughed. "How long have we been working together? Has anything ever been that easy?" She took several steps towards Castle, "I'll tell you what," she poked her finger into his chest, "if you actually find a list like that, I'll kiss you."

Castle's eyebrows shot up as far as they could. "Deal." He walked away from the two women and began searching for clues. He knew that there was next to no chance of him finding anything, but for a chance to kiss Beckett without a gun or any violence involved he'd give it a shot. He hadn't gotten 20 feet away when he saw Dresden walking towards him, looking at a piece of paper.

"So does this place reek of Black Magic being used?"

Dresden looked up, folded the piece of paper and walked to Castle. "Not anymore, too many sunrises have passed. When the sun rises it's kinda like brushing your hand against a chalkboard. You can still see most of what was there, but brush it two or three times and it's gone. I bet it was pretty hard for you to walk around here when you first got here."

It was. Castle distinctly remembered that something about this place made everything inside him scream in fear. "It's always hard being at a murder scene."

Stepping past Castle and pointing to the circle, Dresden kept talking. "But I bet you couldn't even go right up to that circle. And I bet everyone was on edge also. No one talked about it, but you could tell that everyone felt something. It was like a cold shiver at the back of your mind and down your spine. But the next morning, it wasn't as bad. And now today, you have no idea why anything creeped you out about this place. That's how Black Magic affects people. Your body senses it and knows that it's danger and that you should stay away." Dresden turned around and walked right up Castle, Dresden's black duster flapping in the breeze like a cape. "There's no such thing as an illogical fear of the dark. There's plenty of things very Black in the darkness. It's a perfectly logical fear."

Castle didn't know what to do. There were several predominant thoughts running through his head at once: a desire to hide under his covers back at home, write down what Dresden had just said because it was a great quote, finding Beckett's evidence so he could get a kiss, and asking to shadow Dresden around his work in Chicago.

Dresden made Castle jump when he suddenly slapped both his hands together. "But enough about that. What I miss?"

Castle took a moment to compose himself, then he filled Dresden in on what had been found on the beams. As Castle was explaining, Dresden took a pen out of his pocket, unfolded the paper he had in his hand and wrote something on it.

"What's that?"

"Hmm? Oh, this?" Dresden waved the paper a bit. "It's from my colleague outside. He had been asking around the magical community to see if anyone new had been noticed. This is a pretty detailed list of where some people have been sighted fitting our description and where they might be staying. I was able to convince him that letting me have this was a good idea."

Castle's mouth dropped open. Closing it quickly, he slapped one of his charming grins on his face and took a step closer to Dresden.

"Say, Dresden, can I call you Harry?" Dresden gave a nod, "Harry, would you mind if—I—showed that to Detective Beckett?"

Dresden held the evidence close to him, like a child reluctant to give up a toy. "But, it's my evidence."

"I know, and you'll get all the credit for it! I just need to present it first. Trust me. I'll owe you BIG time for this."

"You're just going to show it to her and tell her that I found it? Couldn't I just show her?"

"Please! It's about a bet and this will help me win it."

"Do I get a cut?"

"What?"

"Well, if I'm helping you to win this bet then I should get part of the prize."

"…….Fine."

Dresden handed over the paper to Castle, and Castle all but ran over to where he left Beckett and Murphy.

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A/N: Sorry for what's my worst chapter ending line, but if I didn't end it there I'd be writing another couple paragraphs and I really want to get these chapters submitted. I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the time I made you guys wait. Only two chapters or so left for this one, then it's back to "Whale of a Time"

P.S.-- I love reviews!!