“Who? You mean Dru? She’ll be along.”

“I’d think she’d be first out to this nanty narking, what with all her enthuzinuzzy.”

“Uh. Yeah. That part Karma ripped from you hasn’t found its way back yet, eh?”

“Why would you say that? And mind your sauce-box. I’m still your lieutenant, no matter what that skilamalink hedge bird did to me.”

Leery scratched his head. “Right. That’s what I was just thinking, although I have no earthly idea what most of that means.” Leery peered around in the darkness. “Uh, where are you, Lieu?”

“Why, I’m right here, Leery. You don’t expect me to flash me heavers out here in Pavier’s workshop, do you?”

“Epatha, are you sure you’re okay? There’s no shame in staying‍—‍”

“Knife it, Oriscoe, before I cap you in your box o’dominoes.”

“Er…okay. Anyway, I’m sure Dru will be along any time now.” Leery stood for a moment, waiting for another peculiar string of seemingly unrelated words from the darkness. When it didn’t come, he turned and peered into the shadows, looking for any luminesces that might give away Van Helsing’s location. “Uh, Lieu?”

“Talking to yourself again, Argos?”

Leery grinned and turned around. “The Odyssey, Hinton? Pretty high-brow for a girl with such big feet.”

“Is that all you’ve got, Oriscoe? Big feet jokes?”

“That wasn’t a joke, nemesis. Hey, I got one for you, though. Want to hear it?”

Jenn sighed and dropped her shoulders. “If you must.”

“How do you tell the difference between a bigfoot and a yeti?”

“Is there a difference? I don’t think‍—‍”

“There’s snow way to tell!”

Jenn took a deep breath and puffed out her cheeks.

“Come on, Hinton. I’ve been waiting nearly two weeks to trot that one out. That’s pure gold, and you know it.”

“What is?” asked Dru as she circled down the steps to join them.

“Oh, don’t ask him that! Don’t you know better by now?” asked Jenn.

“My, aren’t you in a frisky mood?”

Though the words seemed friendly, Dru’s tone wasn’t, and Jenn dropped her gaze. “Sorry, Princess.”

“Enough of that!” snapped Dru.

“Hey, take it easy, Dru,” said Leery.

She turned a cold stare on him as her only reply.

“Well, let’s go see what Papa River brought us for Christmas.” He gestured for Hinton and Nogan to precede him, all while darting quick peeks into the shadows.

“What’s got you so jumpy?” asked Dru in a warmer tone than she’d used with Hinton.

“Who me? Jumpy? Nah.” He flexed his biceps. “This is how I keep in such marvelous shape.”

Dru paused to fall in step with him, her elbow brushing his. “What didn’t she want you to repeat?” she whispered.

“A bad bigfoot joke. Don’t worry, you didn’t miss a thing.”

“Oh. You two at it again?”

“Always, Dru. Always. She is my nemesis. Can’t let her forget that.”

“Ah.”

They followed Hinton to the crime scene tape, where a short cop with a broad smile was manning the clipboard. “Hey there, Sergeant Hearne. How’s that dog of yours?”

“Oberon? He’s infatuated with the poodle next door.”

“An Irish wolfhound and a poodle? That’s cruel.”

“The heart wants what it wants, Oriscoe.”

“Can’t you talk some sense into him?”

“Have you ever talked to a dog?”

“Hey, I’m a werewolf, remember?”

Hearne looked startled. “Oh, right. I forgot. Sorry.”

“But I get your point,” said Leery. “Want me to talk to Oberon?”

“Nah. Let him have his fantasies.”

“Right.”

“If you two dog-lovers are finished?” Hinton reached for the clipboard.

“That’s it, Hinton, put your best foot forward.”

“Har-har, Dogbert.” She scratched her name on the clipboard, then ducked under the tape, shoving the clipboard at Leery.

“Not sure I know that one,” he muttered.

Hinton rolled her eyes, shook her head, and turned away.

“From the Dilbert comic strip,” whispered Hearne.

“Thanks, Kevin,” said Leery. “You’re okay. I don’t care what the Morrígan says about you.” After he and Dru signed in, Leery held the tape up, and she ducked under it with a warm smile.

Jenn stood down at the edge of the water, looking down at a water-bloated corpse with a grim expression on her face. A man with the lower body of large, torpedo-shaped fish floated in deeper water a few yards from shore.

As he approached, Leery lifted a hand to the man in the water. “Ahoy, Artie.”

The merman raised his hand. “Ow-ooooh, Leery.”

“Dru, meet Arthur Curry, the head of our amphibious division. Don’t let the tail fool you; he’s a therianthrope, not a mer. Artie, meet my new partner, Dru Nogan.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Artie.

“You, too.”

“Artie, you sure you should be swimming there?” Leery eyed the outflow pipes.

“It’s treated, Oriscoe.”

“You obviously don’t have my sense of smell.” Leery shrugged.

Artie glanced down at the water with suspicion. “Hey, Hinton… Why’d I get called out for this? The guy was in like thirty-six inches of water.”

“Protocol, Arthur,” said Jenn. She squeezed her eyes shut and fluttered her hands out from her sides.

“Protocol. I’ll just bet. Didn’t want to get your waders all smelly is more like it.”

“Find anything with the body, Artie?” asked Leery.

“No, just like the other two. Pants, shirt, socks.”

“Other two?” asked Leery.

“No shoes?” asked Dru at the same moment.

“No shoes,” said Artie. “And, yeah, this is the third floater in the past twenty-seven days.”

Leery shrugged.

“Is that unusual?” asked Dru.

“Maybe,” said Hinton in a distracted voice.

“We’ve had them closer together,” said Artie. He rolled in the water, then submerged with a splash.

“What’s up, Jenn? You haven’t been this quiet since…well, ever.”

“I’m trying to work!” she snapped. “I can’t…”

Leery glanced at Dru and rolled his eyes. “Let’s check his pockets.” He walked over to the body and bent, his knees popping like a cap gun, and patted the victim’s pockets.

Out in the river, Artie surfaced with a fish in one hand and a dead cell phone in the other. “Bet this was his,” he called.

“Nah,” said Leery. “This guy looks like a bacon cheeseburger connoisseur.”

Artie grunted and tossed the phone to Dru, who grimaced but caught it out of the air and held it out from her body while the water drained from the charging port. “Probably can’t get anything off of this.”

“Give it to Hinton. She can do magic with those things.”

“Very funny, Alpo-breath,” muttered Hinton. She sighed and opened her eyes. “I can’t find any trace of his spirit.”

Leery made a moue. “So? I’d be traumatized even sticking a toe in the Hudson, let alone going for full immersion. And look at where he fetched up.”

“It’s not that, Leery. It isn’t that our friend here has moved on or is off in the mists sobbing and rattling his chains. I can’t find him. At all.”

Dru frowned at him. “So, his soul is missing?”

“That’s right.” Jenn nudged the corpse with her foot.

“What about the other two?”

“You’ll have to ask Hendrix about that. I wasn’t called out.”

“Great,” said Leery. “Let me guess—cause of death was suicide.”

Jenn shrugged and turned. “You don’t need me here. This isn’t a crime scene, and there’s no spirit.” She stepped to Dru’s side and held out her hand. “I’ll take the phone, though. Despite what Fang wants you to believe, I am really good with tech.”

“Hey, I said you can do magic with them.”

“Yeah, I get it, Oriscoe. I’m a demon who’s a witch. I can do magic with anything.”

“Sheesh, Hinton. You’re in a mood. Dogs acting up?”

With a roll of her eyes, a shake of her head, and a flip of her illusory hair, Jenn turned and walked away.

“Hey, Kevin!” Leery called. “Better call the meat wagon.”

“Already on the way,” said Kevin Hearne.

“I always liked you.”

“Hey, I’m Irish. What’s not to like?”

Leery cocked his head to the side. “Come on, Dru. There’s an emergency at the Starbucks on Broadway and 168^th, and I’m buying.”