"Simon Hawke - Wizards 08 - Wizard of Lovecraft Cafe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawke Simon)

happened."

"We already knew that much," said McGuire.

"I'm talking heavy magic, Mac," she said. "Mage-level stuff."

"Mage level?" said McGuire. "That's impossible."

"I'm telling you," she insisted. "There were several extremely powerful adepts here."

"Both Agents Silver and Whelen were eighth-level adepts, Natasha," said McGuire. "But they certainly
weren't mages."

"No. . . . No, I'm talking about the people who were living here. And the one who came for them."

"It was a raid, Natasha," McGuire said. "Silver and Whelen came here to make an arrest."

She shook her head. "No. ... He came here to kill."

"Who came here to kill?" McGuire asked, frowning and watching her intently as she moved around the
room.
She stopped for a moment and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to concentrate. She let her breath out in an
exasperated sigh and shook her head. "I don't know. It's all so confusing .... There's just so much here. .
. . It's all getting muddled."

"Okay, take it easy," said McGuire. "Take your time."

"I need to have everybody out of here," she said. "There's too much interference. I'm getting distracted."

McGuire nodded to one of the detectives, who quickly ushered the forensics team out. Several of them
glanced at the Gypsy and shook their heads with resignation, but nobody said anything in McGuire's
presence. The deputy commissioner was, after all, the second-highest ranking official in the department.
A few moments later only McGuire and Natasha remained in the penthouse.

"I don't understand ..." Natasha said, staring down at the floor and cocking her head to one side, as if
listening to something. "I'm getting the impression that there were only three people living here, but at the
same time, I'm registering more. And both impressions feel right. But that doesn't make any sense."

"Don't worry about it for now," McGuire said. "Just give me whatever you pick up. We'll sort it out later.
If a few details seem contradictory, don't concern yourself about it."

"'That's just the thing," she said with a puzzled frown. "I keep getting completely contradictory
impressions. All over the place. I get the sense that the people living here were young . . . and then, at the
same time, I'm picking up a reeling of old age."

"Like . . . how old?"

"Extremely old. Ancient. Thousands of years. . . ." She stopped and frowned. "Well, now how the hell
can that be?"