fine culo, doesn’t he?”
I swallowed. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Me neither. Shame.” She shrugged. “But that’s life.
Now. Where’s this gorgeous suit of armor I’ve heard so much about?”
5
Cindée, our head of trace, seemed more than a little surprised at the menagerie of people suddenly occupying her lab. Lucian had agreed to put on a lab coat, but Duessa’s cool look told me that her sense of haute couture simply wouldn’t allow it. Consequently, she was the sole person in the room wearing black silk and heels.
“Tess.” Cindée gave me a bemused look. “You’ve got quite the following today. How can I help y’all?”
“We’re here to look at the armor.” I gestured to Lucian, who, I had to admit, looked good in a white lab coat.
“This is Lucian Agrado, who’s consulting with us on the Ordeño case. Lucian, this is Cindée Desroliers, the head of our trace division.”
Lucian leaned in and kissed her on both cheeks. “Enchantée. Mércis pour ta aide, et pour ta indul-gence.”
“De rien.” She beamed at him. “It’s a treat to finally meet you, Mr. Agrado. I’ve heard so much about you. In a professional capacity, of course.”
He returned her smile. “Of course.”
“And this is Lady Duessa. I doubt she requires any further introduction.”
Cindée extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you. We really appreciate the support you offered us last year, with the Kynan case.”
Duessa took her hand. “It was nothing. But thanks.”
Something subtle but detectable passed between them, and Duessa held on to Cindée’s hand for just a few seconds more. She wasn’t testing her, exactly, but sort of nudging her. As far as I knew, Cindée didn’t have any specific materia proficiency. But she knew how to handle mages. She didn’t break eye contact with Duessa, and kept smiling, but I could tell that she was shielding slightly.
Duessa simply inclined her head, relinquishing her hold on Cindée’s hand. She seemed to have passed the test. I looked at Lucian, but he merely shrugged.
“Okay,” Cindée said. “If y’all just want to follow me—we’re keeping the breastplate in a locked facility.”
She led us past the various machines in the trace lab, pausing to check a readout from the mass spectrometer. We came to what looked like a closet in the back of the laboratory with a steel door, except that it had a card reader and a thumbprint panel. Cindée swiped her ID, then placed her thumb lightly on the glass panel. The red light next to it turned green, and I heard the sound of heavy tumblers turning on the other side of the door. Then it opened, and I felt a rush of cold air.
“Wee bit chilly in here, I’m afraid,” she said. “But come on in. You’ll get used to it in a bit.”
The closet was actually a temperature-controlled chamber, large enough for all of us to fit in. There were several pieces on display in Plexiglas holding units—a book that appeared to be made of smoke, a blue glass orb, and a serrated knife—but the armor was the central and most prominent item.
The breastplate was made of steel with a black sheen, probably achieved by heating the iron. That was pretty much the extent of what I knew about metallurgy. It looked slender but heavy, almost like a vest, with two solid plates connected by intricate leather straps. The plate had been fashioned into the likeness of two wings, both covered in scales. Each wing had six eyes, half open, half closed. The open eyes reminded me of Ordeño’s. I couldn’t tell what animal the wings were supposed to belong to: a bat, maybe, or a dragon? Vancouver had both, frankly, although dragons were difficult to find within the city limits.
Duessa stared at the armor. “Rayos. Are you seeing this, Lucito?”
He smiled at the diminutive version of his name. “I actually saw it at the crime scene. But it looks even more impressive under these conditions.”
“As far as we can tell,” Cindée said, “the
I swallowed. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Me neither. Shame.” She shrugged. “But that’s life.
Now. Where’s this gorgeous suit of armor I’ve heard so much about?”
5
Cindée, our head of trace, seemed more than a little surprised at the menagerie of people suddenly occupying her lab. Lucian had agreed to put on a lab coat, but Duessa’s cool look told me that her sense of haute couture simply wouldn’t allow it. Consequently, she was the sole person in the room wearing black silk and heels.
“Tess.” Cindée gave me a bemused look. “You’ve got quite the following today. How can I help y’all?”
“We’re here to look at the armor.” I gestured to Lucian, who, I had to admit, looked good in a white lab coat.
“This is Lucian Agrado, who’s consulting with us on the Ordeño case. Lucian, this is Cindée Desroliers, the head of our trace division.”
Lucian leaned in and kissed her on both cheeks. “Enchantée. Mércis pour ta aide, et pour ta indul-gence.”
“De rien.” She beamed at him. “It’s a treat to finally meet you, Mr. Agrado. I’ve heard so much about you. In a professional capacity, of course.”
He returned her smile. “Of course.”
“And this is Lady Duessa. I doubt she requires any further introduction.”
Cindée extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you. We really appreciate the support you offered us last year, with the Kynan case.”
Duessa took her hand. “It was nothing. But thanks.”
Something subtle but detectable passed between them, and Duessa held on to Cindée’s hand for just a few seconds more. She wasn’t testing her, exactly, but sort of nudging her. As far as I knew, Cindée didn’t have any specific materia proficiency. But she knew how to handle mages. She didn’t break eye contact with Duessa, and kept smiling, but I could tell that she was shielding slightly.
Duessa simply inclined her head, relinquishing her hold on Cindée’s hand. She seemed to have passed the test. I looked at Lucian, but he merely shrugged.
“Okay,” Cindée said. “If y’all just want to follow me—we’re keeping the breastplate in a locked facility.”
She led us past the various machines in the trace lab, pausing to check a readout from the mass spectrometer. We came to what looked like a closet in the back of the laboratory with a steel door, except that it had a card reader and a thumbprint panel. Cindée swiped her ID, then placed her thumb lightly on the glass panel. The red light next to it turned green, and I heard the sound of heavy tumblers turning on the other side of the door. Then it opened, and I felt a rush of cold air.
“Wee bit chilly in here, I’m afraid,” she said. “But come on in. You’ll get used to it in a bit.”
The closet was actually a temperature-controlled chamber, large enough for all of us to fit in. There were several pieces on display in Plexiglas holding units—a book that appeared to be made of smoke, a blue glass orb, and a serrated knife—but the armor was the central and most prominent item.
The breastplate was made of steel with a black sheen, probably achieved by heating the iron. That was pretty much the extent of what I knew about metallurgy. It looked slender but heavy, almost like a vest, with two solid plates connected by intricate leather straps. The plate had been fashioned into the likeness of two wings, both covered in scales. Each wing had six eyes, half open, half closed. The open eyes reminded me of Ordeño’s. I couldn’t tell what animal the wings were supposed to belong to: a bat, maybe, or a dragon? Vancouver had both, frankly, although dragons were difficult to find within the city limits.
Duessa stared at the armor. “Rayos. Are you seeing this, Lucito?”
He smiled at the diminutive version of his name. “I actually saw it at the crime scene. But it looks even more impressive under these conditions.”
“As far as we can tell,” Cindée said, “the
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