"I can't turn it off," Julian complains as we walk towards Barker's mansion, "and it's getting worse. I can't even go out in public anymore. People just... stare."

"Have you thought of contacting the Fae?" I ask. "Maybe this is normal for a fae your age."

He grimaces. We're walking a few yards behind Dane and Ambrose, who are deep in conversation about the case.

"Of course I have," he says in an undertone. "It's just..." He lets out a breath of frustration.

I nod towards Dane's back with a question on my face, and Julian nods in return.

"Yeah," he murmurs. "I think his worst nightmare is that I'll step through that doorway again and I won't come back. Even talking about the Fae Realm upsets him."

"Okay, but Julian..."

"I know," he sighs. "If whatever's wrong with me doesn't resolve itself soon, I'll have to do something. I can't keep walking around like... like a fucking glow-worm."

I glance at him. 'Living treasure,' seems more accurate, but I keep quiet.

Reaching the house, we draw to a halt. The entrance is paved with green slate flagstones, framed by ostentatious columns that support a great balcony on the second story. Kneeling, Dane lifts the expensive-looking woven doormat and retrieves a key.

"Really?" Julian laughs. "He keeps the key under the mat?"

"Being rich don't make you smart," Dane replies, and opens the grand front doors.

Inside, he quickly punches some buttons on a little keypad on the wall, disarming the home security system.

"How'd you know the code?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Coleridge got it from the company that makes this system. I watched her use it."

As Dane's former boss, Chief Coleridge is unusually supportive of his role as a private investigator, often allowing him to accompany and assist the police at crime scenes where he usually wouldn't be allowed.

"Does Coleridge know you're doing this?" I ask now.

Again, he shrugs. "Not officially."

"Ah, wonderful," Ambrose says, "so we're breaking and entering. Good to know."

"I said not officially," Dane growls. "The department will ignore any calls they get about this place tonight. Unless it's from one of us," he adds. "Even so, we should be careful. Lots of rubberneckers been driving past lately, trying to get a look at the place, so no lights except in rooms without windows. Otherwise, flashlights only—better yet, just use your eyes, if you can."

I nod, and see a flash of amethyst as Julian looks my way. With his fae vision, he can read a book by starlight, or so he says. My own wolf-sight is a little different—I don't see colors, and some details stand out more sharply, while others are lost.

"Ambrose and I will start down here. Noah, you and Julian take the second floor. Text me if you find anything."

He turns and heads off towards the library where the portrait once hung. With a lifted brow and a slight smirk, Ambrose follows him. I know the only reason Dane invited him along is for 'observation,' and I also know Ambrose is under no illusions on that front. Maybe having to work together will make them more inclined to get along, but I'm not about to place any bets on that.

I watch them disappear through the library doors, and then turn back to Julian. He's absorbed with a large painting in a place of pride near the stairs. Like the one that was stolen, this is also a portrait, though its subject is far more handsomely depicted. Thaddeus Barker stares down at us, looking like a triumphant general, or a swashbuckling sea-captain, or something equally ridiculous.

"Pompous ass," Julian mutters, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Why do we care about this guy, again?"

"Because he's missing, and he's part of the case you're working on?" I suggest.

"Oh, right."

"Well, shall we?" I ask, and touch him lightly on the arm.

He startles badly, gasping and spinning away from me as if I'd stuck him with a pin, eyes flashing violet and a hint of sharp teeth at the corners of his mouth.

"Whoa!" I back away, hands raised. "Sorry! I thought I was the jumpy one."

He stares at me, eyes wide and breathing hard, until I start to worry. Then he comes out of it, releasing a long breath, closing his eyes, and leaning one hand against the wall with the other over his face.

I reach towards him again, concerned. "Julian, are you—"

"Don't touch me!" he snaps, and I freeze. He takes another breath and goes on in a gentler tone. "Sorry. Just... don't touch me."

"Okay, sure—I won't touch you Julian. Are you okay, though?"

He nods, then shakes his head. "I don't know. Fuck."

Going to the foot of the stairs, he sits on the bottom one, leaning forward with his head in his hands.

"My senses are like... all turned up to the max. Everything tastes weird, everything feels weird, and if I touch someone it's like sticking my finger in an electrical outlet, except instead of electricity I get shocked with emotions. Even Dane. I haven't... we haven't been able to, er... do anything for like, two weeks now. It's starting to get to him."

"This has been going on for two weeks?" I ask. It was true I hadn't seen Julian much since the aftermath of the party. I'd been busy with my new job, and with taking care of Dougal and the house, and Dane hadn't had any work for me to do on the case.

"Yeah. Well, it started a bit before that, actually, but about two weeks ago was when it got to where I couldn't hide it anymore."

"Julian... I think you really need to figure this out," I said, an itch of concern beginning to grow around my heart. "Listen, I helped Dane contact the Fae last time. We could do it together if you want—me and you, I mean. Dane... Dane doesn't have to know."

I swallow, finding my throat suddenly dry. Even the thought of doing something behind Dane's back—behind my brother's, my alpha's back—makes me nervous, but I also understand Julian's hesitance, and if I can help...

"Would you?" Julian asks, looking up at me, and I'm alarmed to see the corner of his mouth tremble. "I really am... a little scared, actually."

"Of course I will," I say, with more commitment than I feel. "Tomorrow afternoon?"

"Okay." He takes a deep breath and smiles, and suddenly I feel weirdly protective of him, and have to remind myself he's not some fragile flower, but is something fierce and wild as any Wolf.

"Um... should we go upstairs then?" I ask.

He nods and gets to his feet, and together we climb the wide, curving stairs to the second floor.

"Do you want to split up, or stick together?" he asks when we reach the top.

"Together. We have different skills. We should both look at everything," I say.

Really, I just don't want to leave him on his own, but I know if I say that he'll insist that we split up, and maybe even shove me down the stairs for good measure.

"Cool. Where should we start?"

"Um... how about at that end," I say, pointing down the hall, "and then we can make our way back towards the rooms over the library."

He agrees and we walk down the long, wide hallway side by side. I light the way with my cellphone, keeping it low, though more to save battery than anything else; the only window is at the hall's far end, and it's facing the back of the house.

We start with a bedroom, and it quickly becomes clear that Julian has the advantage when it comes to sight. Even with my eyes Shifted and my glasses tucked safely in my shirt pocket, he picks out details I can only see with the help of the light from my phone.

"I think I'll Shift," I tell him, as he reads the tiny label on a bottle of perfume. "See what I can pick up as a wolf."

Julian nods and sets the little bottle down again with care, then begins a close inspection of one wall. Turning away, I quickly strip off my clothes, fold them neatly, and then Shift.

Somehow it feels weird to Shift indoors—somehow awkward and wrong—and I'm more aware than usual of the grind and pop of bone, the pull and stretch of muscle and skin, and the itching tickle of sprouting fur as I remake myself in my animal form. Giving myself a thorough shake to settle my coat, I look up to find Julian watching me with his head to one side and a slight smile on his lips.

"You know, if I saw you at the pound, I'd probably adopt you, Noah," he says. "You're the cutest little wolf I've ever seen."

I bark sharply in reply—I've always hated to be called 'cute'—but he only laughs. The sound is light and musical—unearthly and sweet—and I forget my annoyance as I'm charmed by it.

"Noah?"

Suddenly he's right in front of me, and I start with surprise as I see that he's instantaneously crossed the room.

No, I realize; it's not that he moved fast. It's that I lost track of time—or rather, that he made me lose it, with the enchantment in his laugh.

"Are you alright? You looked a little out of it there," he says, leaning down to look at me.

I blink my wolf's eyes at him, and consider whether I ought to Shift back and tell him he just put some sort of Fae spell on me, but decide against it. Right now, we need to focus.

Julian's weirdness will have to wait.

The house has been cleaned since the night of the gala, which is fortunate in some ways and unfortunate in others. On the one hand, all traces of Barker's guests and their various activities have been erased. On the other, so has anything that might have served as a clue. Then again, two weeks have passed, and even if anything did remain, it would be stale and faint by now.

Even so, I sweep the room, sniffing every corner and crevice, hunting for anything out of the ordinary or out of place: a strange odor, a change in the flow of the air, an odd creak in the floor...

There's nothing, and by mutually understood agreement, we move on to the next room, and the next.

It seems each has some sort of 'theme' based on a period of history or of geography, and I regret that my wolf's mind can't quite appreciate it the way my human self would. Then again, this is probably a good thing, or I'd be too distracted by the ancient Chinese calligraphy, the Grecian urns, the French pastoral paintings, and even the modern art. Mostly, I'd have been distracted by my outrage that Barker has so many things in his stupid ugly house that obviously belong in a museum, and probably should be repatriated before that.

When we reach the room over the library, where Ambrose and I had found the tooth—which Dane had turned over to the police once it became clear that Barker had disappeared—I go straight to the spot where we'd found it.

There's nothing. Not a trace or a hint of anything but dust and the lingering, citrusy scent of some kind of cleaning agent. I snort a wolfish sneeze, and Julian laughs again, but this time I'm ready and able to ignore the lure of the sound.

I pad over to the wall and sniff along the seam between it and the floor, then across to the opposite side, and then back again, comparing the difference. At last, though, I have to admit that there's nothing here.

Only one room remains—the one that shares the other side of this wall, and is directly above the library. I don't expect it to hold any special secrets—this was the room that Ambrose had entered, when we'd stood side by side—each ready to throw open a door. He'd discovered a couple of guests in flagrante delicto, and quickly excused himself.

Julian doesn't know this though, and gives the room the same careful attention he has all the others. Feeling it's my duty to do the same, even if I suspect it's a waste of time, I follow his lead. I'm just about to give up and Shift back to my human form (Julian having carried my pile of clothes along in his arms), when I catch a whiff of something... odd.

It's an ashy, mealy scent—something that lands at the back of my tongue and sticks with a dry, gritty feel. I lick my tongue between my teeth like a dog that's been fed peanut butter, thinking it's a bit of extra nasty dust, but it doesn't help. I snort several times to clear my nose, but the scent remains.

Attempting to follow it, I do a last slow circuit of the room. It's almost faded completely when, suddenly, I catch it again, very strong. It's coming from the fireplace, I realize. The flow of air must generally draft upward, out through the chimney; occasionally, though, it reversed, and flowed the other way.

Trotting over, I poked my snout through the grate, taking a few experimental sniffs. Immediately, I sneeze, and then sneeze again.

"Noah—jeez! Don't sniff the ash! Seriously..."

Julian speaks in the same, exasperated tone that I typically use with Dougal when he does something stupid, and I fight the urge to turn and snap at him.

Instead, I Shift, regaining my human shape with a wrenching twist and snap of flesh and bone, and then take my piled clothes from Julian's hands, turning away to dress.

"There's something there," I say, "in the ashes."

"Really? What?"

"I don't know. Something... wrong."

Julian kneels and pulls aside the grate, brushing his hands through the remnants of the last fire the little hearth had contained. Then he goes still.

"Shit," he swears. "Noah, there's fucking bone fragments in here. And... this."

He turns and holds something out for me to see. It's a ring, gaudy and ostentatious, and I'd seen it before. Then, though, the hand that wore it had been sliding down Julian's side, coming dangerously close to crossing a line.

"Oh... fuck," I sigh, as several things fall into place.

Then I pull out my phone and call Dane.

"Noah?" he answers. "Did you find something?"

"Yeah, Dane. We did. I think..." I turn the ring over in my palm, and remember the weird smell of the ash. "I think we just found Thaddeus Barker."