I checked for signs of magic. “The gate’s clear. There’s a spell over the doorway to protect the house, but it’s a passive defense. I can pull it down without alerting anyone inside.”

We moved just past the corner of the yard, out of the cameras’ field of view. Lena scaled the wall and balanced on top. She pulled me up one-handed and pointed toward the front door. “Another camera.”

Ivy covered the sloping ground to either side of the driveway. Neatly trimmed hedges guarded the porch.

I studied the black hemisphere mounted over the door, then retrieved the soup can from my pocket. Smudge was sleeping, curled into a ball with a half-eaten gummi worm clutched in his forelegs. As gently as I could, I pulled his magic free and sent it into the camera. “Come on.”

By the time we reached the brick walk, the camera had filled with smoke and flickering red flame. I waited for the fire to die, then returned Smudge’s powers. I hadn’t been gentle enough. He glared at me, like he was silently vowing to inflict burnt, crispy vengeance on me at some point in the future.

The porch lights switched on automatically as we approached the white-painted arched doorway. My anger grew with every step.

Alexander Keeler had sat on his little throne, presiding over the Joint Magical Committee and telling the world how dangerous we were, how much damage we could do if we weren’t “properly regulated and contained.”

All that time, he’d been using us. Capturing and studying and torturing us. Turning public sentiment against magic.

How far did his ambitions go? The prisoners from Mecklenburg had been assessed as potential soldiers, and Keeler had come out in favor of a selective draft of libriomancers and inhumans, similar to the one implemented by Russia. What would he do with his magical army once he had it? He had the Coast Guard in his pocket. Had he corrupted other branches of the military as well?

I double-checked my books, ready to create a shield or knock out everyone within a hundred meters as needed. If they had a clone of Kiyoko on site, we’d need to incapacitate her as quickly as possible.

“Shall we?” I raised my hand to knock.

Deb caught my wrist. She sniffed the air. The mannerism reminded me of an animal.

“What is it?” I checked Smudge, but he was sulking in his can.

“I’m not sure.” She let go and nodded, her attention on the door.

I hesitated, then knocked. When nothing happened, I tried the doorbell. A low chime echoed through the house.

“Maybe they’re out?” suggested Deb. “Congress is always running off for breaks and vacations.”