“You’re sure about this?” asked Rowland.

“I’ve worked with Porters before,” said Steinkamp. “I’ve got clearance to bring them on as temporary independent contractors. Washington wants this solved yesterday.”

I looked back and forth between them. “Who’s in charge here, the police or the FBI?”

“Technically?” Steinkamp cocked a thumb at Rowland. “State Police, until we establish this was an act of magical terrorism.”

“You asked about a group called Vanguard,” I said.

“That’s right, I did.” His expression was neutral. “Let’s go.”

He led us inside past armed guards, up the steps and to the rotunda. The capitol was almost as crowded and busy as the grounds surrounding it. Everywhere I looked, men and women were taking photographs. Others pulled fingerprints. They appeared to be concentrating their efforts in a few specific locations, including the doorway to the governor’s office. Blood dripped down one of the wooden columns to our right.

“This way.” Steinkamp led us to the body of a young man.

I was no medical examiner, but even I could tell he hadn’t been killed by werewolves. I counted six bloody gunshots, most to the torso. “He wasn’t human.” I peered over the tops of my glasses. “You think this is one of the killers.”

He and Rowland looked at one another, but neither spoke.

I crouched beside the body. “Back to my earlier question. The FBI was on site, set up, and working within a half hour or so of the attack. Either you used magic to get from Detroit to Lansing impossibly fast, or else you were already here, or at least on the way, when it happened.”

“You’re right.” Steinkamp scowled at the dead werewolf. “We were driving down to arrest this guy.”

“If you knew what he was going to do—” I started.

“We didn’t. We’ve been watching him as part of a human smuggling operation. Inhuman smuggling, to be precise.” He shook his head in disgust. “Homeland Security picked up whispers that they were on to us, and he was getting ready to go wild.”

“But he decided to try to assassinate Governor Sullivan first?” Nidhi paced around me, examining the body. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Rowland glanced around, as if to make sure nobody else was listening. “He didn’t try to kill the governor.”

Damn. That was the first official confirmation I’d heard. “What about the Attorney General?”

“Both men were dead when we arrived,” said Steinkamp. “We’ll be announcing it to the press shortly. In the meantime, what can you tell me about our killer?”

I pulled off my glasses and tucked them into my shirt pocket. “He’s Lykanthropos Stroudus. From The Golem’s Eye. The Porters can email you the full info on his species. I’m pretty sure he came here because someone had been messing with his thoughts.”

“Explain,” snapped Rowland.