Within twenty minutes the team, including Armand, was on the site. Morrissey looked around, ran his hands through his dark hair and started assigning people to their tasks. “Serenity, Armand, see if you can determine where he got the cadavers from. If he stole the bodies, there’ll be more charges filed.”

“Of course he stole them,” Emery put in as he looked around the room. “People don’t donate their bodies to madmen for research.”

“They might not have realized who they were donating their bodies to,” Serenity pointed out. She knelt beside one of the constructs and began to take detailed pictures and samples from various locations.

“Miles, get to work classifying the dark magic,” Morrissey continued, ignoring the conversation. “Emery, see if you can determine if the bodies are fresh.”

Emery paused and looked around the room. “Morrissey, let me see if I have this correct. In a room where a battle just took place, between ravenous constructs and warden magicians, you want me to see if there are traces of trauma from constructs – made up of parts from various cadavers, so they obviously got cut up – from murders that might or might not have taken place?”

“Think of it as a challenge,” Morrissey said, pushing him further into the room. “You’re always telling me I don’t challenge you enough.”

“I’ll think of it as well nigh impossible,” Emery said. Even so, he drew out his trauma wand and began to slowly draw his wand down the body of one of the constructs. For once he was careful while performing the spell not to allow his other gifts to augment his magic. The amount of trauma in the room would most definitely cause a spell, if not an attack.

Relying only on magic made the process slow going and frustrating. Unconsciously, he’d look up periodically and note that Serenity or Armand had moved on to a different construct, while he was still working on the same one. By nature, Emery was competitive and being slower than his teammates rankled him.

He looked up after he’d finished the last construct to find that only Hassett remained in the room and it was night outside. “Sorry,” he murmured, easing himself to his feet. “Lord, I’m hungry. Where’d everyone else go?”

“Back to the station,” Hassett replied. “I’ll get you something to eat on our way there. Find anything interesting?”

“Further analysis will have to be done at the lab, but the injuries were all post mortem. So he used dead bodies. He didn’t kill people.” Emery brushed off his pant legs and slipped his wand back into his bag. Then he bounded over to the door.

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