away unwanted psychic energies and residue from a person, object or area. Once Carrie was finished with the cleansing, people who were high-level psychics, mediums or anything else would be able to step inside without being subject to Alistair’s death or what he’d done in that room before his death.
“It was a supe,” Janice announced to the T.U. leader, a big man named Murphy who could turn his skin into solid titanium. “I caught a few hints of empathy but for the most part, she seems to be pure physical ability.”
“She?” Murphy asked as the others in his unit perked up.
Janice’s smile was sly and pointedly turned in her leader’s direction. “I knew it was a female before we even went in to check the psychic signature. Only a woman would deal out justice by cutting a man’s balls off.” The look she cast Murphy suggested she wouldn’t mind cutting his off.
Brit didn’t want to get caught up in any domestic tiffs and cut in before Murphy could unleash on his Sensor. “What kind of physical abilities are we talking about here? I caught her red-handed. Literally. Yet she didn’t attack me.”
She turned away from Murphy and glanced at Brit with little interest. Thank God. Janice was a real ball-buster. She shrugged. “I couldn’t tell, but I don’t think she’s an energy caster. Troy? You said you thought the perp might have enhanced strength?” she asked the T.U.’s Medic.
The shaggy-haired healer nodded. “Alistair was a big man, well over three hundred pounds. I consulted with the coroner and we both believe the attacker was much shorter and left-handed. Those knife wounds were deep and placed with careful precision. There were bruises on Alistair’s thighs showing whoever castrated him held him down. They have to have speed and strength on their side and I concur with Janice’s belief that it’s a woman. They tend to be a little more um, vindictive.”
Brit wasn’t surprised. Not really. Joe hadn’t been able to get a reading on his mystery girl. What the Director had learned had been taken from Brit’s mind during the short meeting. She said she thought she felt the girl’s signature outside Mendoza’s building, but couldn’t be sure because it’d seemed more animalistic than like a person. There had been a few members of the O.T. in the past who were a little closer to their primal halves. There were shifters who tended to lean more toward their animal sides, but this woman hadn’t been in a shifted form when she did her work. She’d used a weapon, knives specifically. And she was left-handed.
He nodded to Murphy. “I’ll let Joe know about your preliminary reports,” he said to the taller man. “If you find out anything else, let me know, I’ll be at home the rest of the evening.”
Carrie stepped out of the blood-soaked room, looking a little worse for wear. “What do you mean you’ll be at home the rest of the evening? It’s Spa Night.”
Fuck. He shrugged. “I’m not going.”
The gaping jaws of the entire twelve-person Tactical Unit did not bode well for Brit’s plans for the evening. Even Murphy, who was known as one of the toughest sons of bitches in the O.T., appeared shocked by Brit’s refusal to attend Spa Night . He shuddered at the thought. When Joe took over as Director and leader of the Second Sector, she’d begun instituting employee morale activities. That sounded good on paper, but it was a nightmare for men like Brit who weren’t in touch with their feminine sides.
Joe’s idea of good employee activities was to order pedicures and full-body massages. Sure, Brit would’ve been on board with a massage from some cute thing with a killer figure, but the men were assigned male masseurs. Then there’d been the trust exercises with games like Stiff as a Board, Light as a Feather and shit like that. The women loved the employee solidarity days, loved the activities Joe insisted everyone enjoy. The men, not so much. Brit, as one of Joe’s