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that missing piece. He nodded, as if I had passed some unspoken test, and said, “I can heal you.”
    He laid his palm over my heart, much like Syn had done. I hoped he wouldn’t feel it speed up at his touch. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. I could feel the heat from his hand all the way through the black leather I wore, causing my breathing to quicken.
    “Should you be doing this?” I stuttered. “You said yourself, the spell you just cast took a lot out of you.”
    “This will be the last magic I do for the night, then,” he said. “
Guar l’anima
.”
    Something warm spread through my being for a moment, a good feeling, like standing in front of a fireplace on a cold day, and then it was gone. I felt cold and involuntarily arched toward him to try to recapture the warmth. He gaveme a slight smile and lightly clapped me on the shoulder. “You should be alright now.” He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.
    “Thanks.” I felt very strange after the spell. I had an almost overwhelming need to reach out and touch him, to retain that momentary closeness. I wrapped my arms around myself instead and shivered.
    “You are welcome.” He kept his eyes closed.
    “Why are your spells in Italian?” I asked, trying to fill the void in conversation.
    “It is the language in which I learned them.” He didn’t open his eyes, but his mouth quirked in a slight, teasing smile.
    I returned the expression, even though he couldn’t see me. “Obviously. So…every magic-user learns spells in different languages?”
    “You learn the spells in what ever language your teacher uses. Mine happened to be Italian, but this was centuries ago.”
    “So, can anyone learn the spells?”
    “Only those born with the gift can access magic.”
    “So, is the Reincarnist thing a part of you, or is it magic you’ve done?”
    His eyes snapped open. “You think I would do this to myself on purpose?” His voice held a darkness that was surprising.
    I masked my discomposure by shrugging. “Everyone wants to live forever.”
    “Only those that do not know what it truly means to do so.”
    I was taken aback for a moment, and then I blurted, “Why didn’t you glow? When you did your spell, you said it showed innocence of the soul. It worked on me. Why didn’t it work on you?”
    His smile was sad, but he did not fail to answer. “When you have lived as long as I have, you do not escape withouta little tarnish on your soul. If you want the truth, usually only children will shine. It is very rare to see it in an adult; we all lose our innocence bit by bit.”
    “But I’m nothing special,” I protested. “Trust me, I’m not.”
    “Someone thinks otherwise, Miss Livingston.”
    “Lainey,” I said. “I think after everything we’ve been through to night, you can call me Lainey.”
    He nodded. “Alright, Lainey. When we are alone together, you can call me Robert. Elliot when we are out like this.”
    Hey, it was a start.
    The sound of sirens could be heard pulling up outside the building.
    “Prepare yourself,” Robert said. “Here comes Deburt.”
    Deburt had an obvious chip on his shoulder. The policeman glared at me as if I had committed the felony, not been one of the victims. “Of course
you
would be here, Elliot, but who the hell is she?” he growled, killing the myth of the jolly fat man. Well over three hundred pounds, Deburt was about 5’7 in stocking feet, just a little taller than me, so I had the height advantage with my high-heeled boots. His black hair was slicked back in fifties greaser-style and he had a thin mustache. His dark eyes barely skimmed my face and instead fell to rest on my breasts. Oh, great. It was going to be one of those conversations.
    “This is my new partner,” Robert said, sounding like a tired parent who senses his toddler is about to throw a fit. “She will be joining me on my investigations.”
    “I’m sure she will.” Deburt leered at me.
    Robert gave him a dark