to survive. Shoot and shoot immediately. And keepon shooting. If you lose your nerve and run, I don't

care how fast you are, the entity will catch you and death will be horrible and instantaneous. Your one

chance is to disrupt the spell by shocking the necromancer into losing concentration. Now, are there any

questions?" Modred asked.

to survive. Shoot and shoot immediately. And keepon shooting. If you lose your nerve and run, I don't

care how fast you are, the entity will catch you and death will be horrible and instantaneous. Your one

chance is to disrupt the spell by shocking the necromancer into losing concentration. Now, are there any

questions?" Modred asked.

"So what you're telling us is that if we encounter one of these demonic entities, the best we can do is try

to disrupt the spell and keep from getting killed? We can't actually stop the necromancer himself?"

"No, you cannot," said Modred. "Disabuse yourselves of that notion right now. You may be lucky

enough to injure him. Or her. In that event, he or she will eventually recuperate, but it will take some time.

It's impossible to say how much time, that depends on the strength of the adept, but time is what we need

to buy. Banish from your minds any thought of trying to arrest the perpetrator. You will not be able to,

not even if you confront him in the flesh. Only another adept can do that,if he's stronger than the

perpetrator. That is why crimes involving magic use are the jurisdiction of the Bureau and the I.T.C. They

are advanced adepts and they are far better prepared to cope with this sort of thing than you are. Your

function is to prevent the necromancer from claiming any more victims. To buy us time."

The room was utterly silent as the officers exchanged uneasy, nervous glances. Modred moved aside

and Loomis stepped back up to the podium.

"All right, people, you heard it. Remember what Inspector Cornwall said, but at the same time, I don't

want anybody acting like a hero and Iespecially don't want anybody getting jumpy and shooting some

innocent civilian. So stay alert and, for God's sake, don't shoot unless you know what the hell you're

shooting at, got it? Watch yourselves out there tonight. Okay. Dismissed."

The officers slowly filed out of the muster room. Loomis turned to Modred. "Well, now that you've

scared the shit out of them, let's hope nobody goes off half-cocked."

"My intention was not to scare them, but to prepare them for what they might be going up against. I

don't want to see any of them die."

"Yeah, well, neither do I," Loomis replied. He beckoned to Paul. "Okay, I've got a list of registered

adepts, including everyone who's recently arrived for that convention." He scanned it quickly. Some of

the names on the printout, arranged alphabetically, were already crossed off. "Shit, we have about fifty

names here and there'll be more arriving every day between now and Friday. I don't know how the hell

we're going to get to them all, but we're going to have to try. We'll take my unit and I'll have Sgt. Velez

drive us. He'll remain with the unit and if anything comes down, he'll hear it on the radio and we'll haul

ass. I've got plenty of coffee. It's going to be a long night."

Paul took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. "Very well. Let's get started."

Gomez came back just as it was getting dark. Kira and Billy had put on their jackets, ready to leave.

They had the folded map of the city with them.

"Well, the word is spreading," Gomez told them, swishing his tail back and forth. "Before the night is out,

about half the cats in Santa Fe will be on the streets and by tomorrow, we should have more."