Apparently we weren’t going to talk about Asil. I glanced around, but didn’t see Bran’s wolf anywhere. Maybe Asil was responsible for Tad’s look-at-me-not-at-what-I’m-hiding performance.

“Adam, what can you tell me about your kidnapping?” Tony wasn’t as caught up in Tad’s performance as the other cops were.

Adam gave him a tired smile. “I’m going to get some rest. I’ll have my lawyer get in touch with you, and I’ll give a full statement tomorrow. Okay?”

Tony gave him a reluctant nod. “Fine. Get in touch before ten tomorrow or I’ll give you a call. Mercy, your turn.”

I thought about the body in the back of Marsilia’s car and tried to decide where to start.

“She didn’t see much,” Tad said, and this time I could feel his magic push past me, focusing Tony’s attention on him. “How about she takes Adam home, and they both talk to you tomorrow. I know who this guy was because he’s a spriggand—that’s a kind of fae and fairly rare, thankfully, because they are nasty, bitter mischief-makers one and all. This one is a pureblood, and that makes him a renegade because he’s not holed up in the reservations with the rest of the fae. There’s only one renegade spriggand. He goes by the name of Sliver and usually hangs out with a half-fae woman called Spice. They hire out as muscle or assassins. I didn’t see any woman, but she might have been keeping watch.”

Spice must be the dead woman in the trunk of Marsilia’s car. It would have been a good time for me to tell the police about her—her death was self-defense. If I told them right now, it would look better than if they found out about it later. But I was content just resting against Adam and couldn’t find the impetus to say anything.

Tony frowned at Tad. “And why do you know the names of assassins for hire?”

Tad’s brilliant facade soured. “Because even though they don’t care a fig for the half-bloods, the pure-blooded fae send us lists of fae who did not answer the Gray Lords’ call. We, the rejected, are to watch out for these fae and turn in any purebloods we see.”

Tony nodded slowly. “I see. And if you don’t turn them in?”

Tad’s smile left entirely, and he looked very adult. “Nothing good. The Gray Lords don’t have much use for half-bloods.”

Tony blinked a couple of times and bit back whatever homily had come to him. Finally, he looked around at the destruction that was getting cleaned up. It was a crime scene, so probably no one should be cleaning yet—but it was also Sylvia’s private papers flying in the wind.