I glanced at his badge. “I know your people and the EMTs are doing everything they can, Officer Blackwell. But if it’s true werewolves did this, then their victims could have been infected, and we have a very limited window to help them. I’m the only person within a hundred miles who can guarantee those people remain human.”

He jerked his chin at Nidhi and Lena. “They’re libriomancers too?”

“I’m Doctor Shah,” said Nidhi. “I’ve been with the Porters for more than fifteen years.” She touched Lena’s arm. “Ms. Greenwood is my assistant.”

“Depending on what species of werewolf did this, the survivors could be a danger to your officers,” I pressed. “I’ve consulted with the State Police in the past. They can vouch for me.”

“Don’t move.” He stepped back and spoke to someone on his shoulder-mounted radio, never taking his attention off us. I couldn’t make out the response, but a moment later he raised the police tape and beckoned us through. He patted each of us down, a process that took much longer with me, given the number of books tucked into my duster pockets. By the time he finished, two more people had joined us.

“Identification.” The speaker was a middle-aged woman in a state police uniform and vest, with the kind of focus and determination that made me think she could work this case for thirty-six hours straight on nothing but coffee and attitude.

Her companion was an older man with the face of a graying bulldog and an FBI badge clipped to his belt. Between the street lamps and various floodlights, I was able to make out that his name was Steinkamp, and he was a Special Agent from the Magical Crimes Unit in the Detroit Field Office.

Nidhi and I produced our driver’s licenses. The police officer inspected them both, handed them back, and looked expectantly at Lena.

“I don’t have one.” Lena held out one hand and grew a single green bud from the palm of her hand. “Michigan’s DMV refuses to grant a license or state ID to nonhumans.”

“She stays here,” said Steinkamp. “We’ve had too many people contaminating the scene as it is.”

“It’s all right,” Lena said, before Nidhi or I could argue.

“Sign here.” The officer, whose badge read ROWLAND, passed me a clipboard. I jotted down my name, title, organization, and the date and time, then handed it to Nidhi to do the same. “You touch nothing unless absolutely necessary. Blackwell’s going to be your police escort. You obey his instructions at all times, got it?”

I nodded, trying not to let my impatience show. “How did the werewolves get inside?”

Steinkamp scowled. “There was a fucking Boy Scout tour scheduled for six o’clock. Normally tours end at four, but the scout leader has a friend in the legislature. The werewolves waltzed right in with them.”