For thirty minutes, Inspector Diego Martinez had been looking at the ham and mustard sandwich on his plate without seeing it. The events of the morning had caught up with him, and his brain was running at full speed. At some point, he would need to refuel, but for now, he had completely forgotten about his meal.

Shamanic magic. Superpowers. In his line of work you saw all sorts of things, but real supernatural events, that was a first. He had seen the wounds of this girl, Tiffany. He had seen her heal almost instantly. And only invisibility could explain last year's mystery with the priest...

Yet how could this be possible? It violated all the laws of logic, it violated science. Diego was more disturbed than he cared to admit. He felt as if his world had just collapsed, and all that was left were ruins. How could this all remain hidden? This was the age of the Internet for God's sake! What was the government doing? It couldn't stand by while murderers and vampires were roaming the streets.

He should install a better home alarm system, and a safe house. Diego had always thought that living in a good neighborhood protected his family from most dangers, but now he was not so sure. If something happened to his two little girls, he would never forgive himself.

Perhaps we should move far away from here...

No, he shouldn't give in to panic. Especially since it might be worse elsewhere for all he knew. There had to be a rational explanation for all this, and ways to protect his family. Until he knew more, he could surely count on Rafael and his friends in case of trouble. They were young, but seemed pretty reliable. They had fucking magic powers! That would allow them to fight fire with fire.

For now, he had a job to do. Shamanism or not, this Dino was guilty of attempted murder. There were no more wounds to prove it, but he knew what was the right thing to do.

Tracking him down.

Diego grabbed his sandwich, and devoured it in less than a minute, while the waitress looked at him with amazement. Then he pulled out his cell phone, leaned back, and called Karl from the forensics department.

"Hey Sherlock," his colleague greeted him. "I thought you weren't working today."

"I thought so too, but the universe decided otherwise," Diego replied.

"A metaphysical remark, from you? Something must be wrong," Karl remarked. "Has Melinda been acting up again?"

"No, she's fine, I think she picked herself up. That's not why I'm calling you."

"Do you have a crime scene?"

"More or less. To be honest, it's not something official..."

Karl's voice became more serious, "I'm listening."

"I need you to run a name for me in the database: Dino Calderón. He committed attempted murder, but there will be no complaint filed."

"And you don't want to drop the case. Sherlock never leaves a guilty man off the hook!"

"Not if I can help it," Diego nodded.

"Okay, I have his info. There are multiple speeding tickets to his name, two license withdrawals, one accident, but no assault."

"Hmm," Diego mused. "No robberies either?"

"Nothing," Karl assured. "But his brother is also in the database: Vicente Calderón. Same address. Phone and internet scams, but he's never been convicted. He's a smart guy."

"Alright, I'll dig into it, send me everything you have."

"Already done. Do you need anything else, Sherlock?"

"Not right now. I'll keep you posted."

Diego put his phone away and sipped his coffee, thinking. He had to be methodical, as usual. Not to be impressed by the supernatural aspect of the case. So, in order: hospital, home, workplace. He had enough time to do everything in the afternoon.

He reread one last time the notes he had taken at the Association: Tiffany's statement, the too sketchy information that Rafael had given him, and the elements he had himself noted at the crime scene. He had to be careful. Tiffany's wounds, as well as the state of the storeroom door lock, suggested insane destructive power. And he had no healing ability.

Diego paid for his meal and left the establishment. The first thing he did when he got to his car was to put on the bulletproof vest he always kept in his trunk. With the extra weight on his shoulders, he felt much better. Now, to the hospital.

Diego continued to think about his strategy as he drove through downtown. It kept him from worrying about magic again. He would have to learn more about it eventually, but not now.

He'd probably find some clue to Dino's whereabouts during the afternoon, but if not, he could always go snooping around the Formula 1 racetrack. Being a speed fan, there was a chance that Dino had a habit there. Detective Diego knew that they recorded the information of everyone who came to drive, or to bet on the races. It wasn't certain that they would give it to him without a warrant, though.

Diego parked in front of the hospital and headed straight for the emergency room. He knew the place well. Unfortunately, this was not his first time there. He showed his police badge to the receptionist, and asked:

"Did you admit a Dino Calderón during the day?"

The receptionist tapped on her computer for a moment, then shook her head:

"No sir, no one with that name here."

He continued, "So a man with a shoulder injury and a large bruise?"

The receptionist returned to her screen for a moment, before answering in the negative again.

"No, sorry."

"That's okay," Diego reassured her. "Thanks anyway."

He was about to leave, but stopped at the last moment to ask out of a clear conscience:

"Could you try again with the name Jay Kumar, please?"

"Ah! I have something," exclaimed the receptionist. "Jay Kumar, admitted at 11:43 this morning, severe anemia and neck injury. The doctor has decided to keep him under observation until tomorrow. Would you like to see him?"

"That won't be necessary," Diego said, nodding. "Thank you, and have a good day."

"Have a nice day," the receptionist replied with a smile.

Diego didn't even see it, he had already left.

After the hospital, he headed for the address Karl had given him. He doubted that Dino would be there, or that he would be stupid enough to come and open the door if he was, but he had learned in his career not to leave any room for guesswork.

The suburb where the house was located was close to Little Maghreb, though not as infested with drug trafficking. The people who lived here were mostly honest workers, and the neighborhood was quiet enough for kids to play in the street.

Well, playing on their phones in the street.

The house in question was no different from the others: a two-story house with a garage, blue shutters, a neatly mowed lawn, and without any personal touches... As much as Diego liked order, these kind of houses always made him feel like they were hiding something. As if they were just social masks to disguise the unmentionable inclinations of the inhabitants.

Of course, most of the time it was just that they lacked personality.

Diego walked to the door, made sure his gun slid securely into its holster, then pressed the doorbell firmly.

A man opened the door. Diego almost drew his gun right away, but, even though he looked Italian, he didn't fit Dino's description. He was taller, older. Moreover, he was wearing a mustache handlebar and a white shirt, whereas Dino was more of a casual guy. And most importantly, he had opened the door with his right hand, which he couldn't have done if he had a serious shoulder injury.

That is, unless he can heal himself instantly like Tiffany, Diego thought.

But he let his hand drop anyway.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

Diego held up his police badge and said, "I'm looking for a Dino Calderón for an ongoing investigation. Is he here?"

"No, I haven't seen him in several days," the man said, shaking his head.

"And you are?"

"My name is Vicente, I'm his brother."

Diego had suspected as much. Whatever Dino was into, Vicente was probably part of it too, but he had no proof...and he didn't want to tip them off. Diego had to play it cool.

"Does your brother frequently go away like this?"

"Once in a while," Vicente said, shrugging his shoulders. "When he decides to take a road trip, or gets a new girlfriend."

"Okay," Diego said, holding out his card. "I'll be grateful if you call me as soon as he gets back."

Vicente glanced at the card before replying, "Of course, Mr. Detective."

He's a born liar, he didn't even flinch.

"Have a good day," Diego said as he took his leave.

The door slammed behind him before he took two steps out. It was a pity he couldn't get a warrant, he was sure there was a lot of worthwhile stuff behind that door. A part of him would have liked to insist, and trick Vicente into letting him in, but it wasn't worth the candle.

He stopped for a moment on the sidewalk to examine the cars around him. Dino was into car tuning, and his vehicle was easily recognizable. Unfortunately, Diego didn't see anything on the street or in the alleys. Maybe Vicente hadn't lied about his brother not being at home...

There was one last stop on the inspector's list for the afternoon: the garage where Dino worked. With any luck, he would find more clues there.

***

Vicente was discreetly watching the police inspector through the kitchen window. Electricity was crackling all around him, ready to be discharged in an overpowering arc if he made an attempt to force his way back into his property. Dino had said he'd killed the girl, but they'd had to figure out some other way to figure out that he was the one who'd sneaked into the reservation.

His little brother had really screwed up this time. Not only had he let his injury get in the way, and left the water gun at the Association, but he also had alerted the police. They would have to be even more careful than before.

The inspector got into his car, and drove to the north of the city. The electrical storm around Vicente calmed down immediately. He ran his hand through his hair and smoothed it over his head with a sigh. That was the problem with his power: static electricity. It messed up his hair every time, and if he wasn't careful, he would send little shocks to others as soon as he touched them...

On the other hand, all he had to do was throw the bodies of his victims near a transformer and the police would immediately conclude that it was an accident, which was awesome.

"Did he leave?" asked a voice behind him.

Vicente turned around. At the bottom of the stairs was a man with a long beard and gray hair. He was a cripple, his left arm cut off just below the shoulder. His eyes shone with vitality, even though the man's features were tired.

"You should have stayed upstairs," Vicente admonished him. "We can't risk anyone recognizing you."

"Why should I worry about Inspector Martinez recognizing me? Justice has found me innocent, he has no reason to arrest me."

Vicente sometimes wondered if his accomplice was missing a few neurons. He patiently explained to him again, "It would draw attention to us, and to the Church of the Covenant, which would disrupt our plans."

The man tilted his head, considering the question for a moment before answering:

"He wouldn't have recognized me anyway. I've recovered from the surgery, and have regained control over my powers. Look!"

An arm materialized out of thin air to replace the one he was missing. Vicente had to restrain himself to not show he was impressed. The illusion was perfect, it was impossible to guess that the limb was not real. This would be wonderful to convince the faithful of the veracity of his sermons.

"This is great news,” said Vicente. “We'll be able to move on to the next step faster than we expected."

"Indeed, our divine plan is long overdue."

With that, the man turned to go back upstairs, but he stopped with his foot on the first step to ask:

"By the way, where is Dino?"

"Mary Chastity heals his wound in the convent."

The man nodded. "Then he's in good hands."