by Dannika Dark
Patrick’s guard rested his sword on my shoulder, just inches from my neck. “Throw down your weapons.”
I looked into his brute face, wondering how many cannoli he’d eaten before he decided to get off his ass and check out the crime scene. “I didn’t do this.”
“She’s right,” Niko affirmed, his voice commanding. “We’re Keystone.”
“I don’t care who you belong to,” the guard replied in a higher-pitched voice than before. “It looks like we got a dead body, and your friend was hovering over it. So you’re gonna shut your mouth and let me do my job. Capisce?”
“Let her go,” Christian boomed. “She was inside with me, and we have witnesses.”
“What witnesses?” the guard asked, refusing to buy any of this.
Christian folded his arms. “The Overlord. Now saunter on.”
Flashlight beams streaked around the property like club lights as guards searched for clues.
The Don Corleone wannabe lowered his sword when he saw the malice in Christian’s eyes. “Stay here. All of you.”
I moseyed over to my crew, eager to get away from the body.
“Feck me. They’re contaminating the entire crime scene.”
“Do you think the blast killed that guy?” I asked.
“It’s too clean,” Christian pointed out. “Someone set off the bomb as a diversion. Bombs cloak any lingering scents left at a crime scene. Jaysus, will you just look at them? It’s like watching the Three Stooges.”
“The bomb was a good idea,” I said. “If we’d just stumbled upon the bodies, they would have held everyone for questioning. The blast created a panic, and everyone’s long gone by now—especially the killer. Who had swords on them?”
Niko opened his coat, revealing his own. “It’s not mandatory to leave them behind—just a courtesy to the host. Most comply, but we’re not everyone.”
We turned our attention to where guards were dragging a second body from behind the shrubs. My stomach knotted when I noticed the decapitation.
A few people trickled out the back door to see what was happening. Gem and Wyatt appeared, and when Wyatt got a gander at the bodies, he made a fast exit.
Gem passed in front of us to get a closer look and whirled around, covering her mouth.
“I take it you two didn’t see the bodies in the kitchen?” I asked.
“We couldn’t see anything because of the fire extinguishers.”
“Where’s Viktor?”
A cold breeze ruffled her hair, and she clutched her arms, shivering. “Shepherd drove him back home.”
Relief. Our number-one priority was Viktor’s safety.
“Has anyone seen Blue or Claude?” I asked.
“Claude’s inside, talking to one of the guards,” she said, gesturing toward the window. “I think Blue’s falcon is scouting the property for runners. Has anyone seen Hooper?”
“If he didn’t leave, he’s probably looking for you,” I suggested. “People were trampling each other in there like the Running of the Bulls.”
“Why don’t you call him?” Niko suggested.
Gem’s eyes brightened. “Good idea! Since we came here together, I don’t think he’d ditch me. Can I borrow someone’s phone? I didn’t bring mine. No pockets on the dress.”
Christian handed his over. “Ask him if he has room for more. Shepherd has the Jeep, and some of us need a ride home.”
“You can always squeeze into Claude’s Porsche.”
“I’d have more legroom tethered to the hood. We’re not all gonna fit, so we need an extra car.”
Patrick emerged from the back door and made his way over to the fountain. He bent down, presumably looking at the head, and righted himself. “That’s Representative Alexander Warren.”
Christian and I shared a look at the startling revelation that it was a member of the higher authority. We knew they were being targeted. But here, at a high-profile event?
“What about him?” a guard asked, lingering near the second body.
A ring chimed from the dead man’s pocket.
Christian and I steered our gaze to Gem, whose phone was ringing in synchronicity with the dead man’s. When she realized the same thing, she turned as white as a ghost. Her eyes rounded in horror, and she stared for a frozen moment at the body in the shadows.
A breath later, she surged forward, and the scream she unleashed made everyone’s hair stand on end.
I flashed toward her and seized her wrist, but she wrenched away and gave me the most heartbroken look, tears welling in her eyes. Her brows slanted in disbelief as the phone continued ringing. Christian removed it from her hand, and when he ended the call, the ringing stopped.
I squinted as light accumulated within her palm. Gem threw her arms forward, and an energy ball the size of a grapefruit shot forward. Two guards ducked as the crackling blue ball went sailing by and exploded into a line of trees. Not nearly the same intensity as I’d seen her use once before, but anything larger might have killed someone.
Gem fell to her knees, exposing that perfect red heart on her back. The wail that poured out of her was devastating.
Christian walked off to make a positive ID, and I felt utterly sick to my stomach.
Niko knelt on the ground and pulled Gem into his arms. “We need to go,” he said to me. He tried to help her stand, but her legs were like jelly. Niko knew he couldn’t carry her away from the scene, so they stayed as they were.
Claude burst through the back door, nostrils flaring and a wild look in his eyes. When he spotted his partner in a heap on the ground, the smell of her anguish must have burned his nose. His lips peeled back, revealing all four canines. I looked warily at him, wondering if he’d flip his switch in front of all the armed guards.
“Give her to me,” he snarled.
When Niko coaxed her to her feet, she saw Hooper’s body again and screamed. I felt a catch in my throat when I saw the depth of sadness in her expression. All the mascara and eyeliner had smeared down her face, glittery makeup gathering around her chin as the tears kept streaming down.
Gem had great empathy for others, and because of that, she had always found it difficult to be around murder victims. While she wanted to have more involvement in dangerous missions, it would ultimately destroy the Gem we all knew and loved. Not everyone was cut out for a job in which investigating dead bodies or killing someone was part of the job description. Gem was incapable of shutting off emotions like the rest of us. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and right now it was shattered.
Claude lifted her into his arms, holding her tight against him. Niko followed behind as they left the scene.
I heaved a sigh, still in disbelief. “What do we do?”
Christian pursed his lips and looked thoughtfully at me. “I’ll talk to Patrick and give him Hooper’s identity so he gets a proper burial and any family is notified. Stay here.” Christian branched away toward Mr. Bane while I lingered on the patio.
“We need everyone to clear the area,” a voice boomed.
I turned left and spotted two Regulators on the scene—Merry and Weather. It wasn’t uncommon for Regulators to be present during social gatherings held by a member of the higher authority. It gave people what was clearly a false sense of security.
“No one leaves the premises until we’ve completed our investigation,” Merry announced, his blond hair pulled back in a tight knot. “Stay within fifty feet of the house—if not inside—and secure the area. Do not allow anyone else to leave the party.”
“Too late for that,” I muttered.
He turned a sharp eye toward me and closed the distance between us. “So we meet again, Raven. Were you first on the scene?”
I gave him a brisk nod. “Yes.”
“Interesting. Remain here.”
“What about all the people who bailed?”
“Believe it or not, in cases like this, assailants like to remain behind to revel in the damage done.”
“You should se
arch everyone’s weapons,” I suggested. “The murderer will have blood on his sword.”
Merry gestured to the fountain. “Not if he rinsed it.”
After a pause, Merry delivered a look that sent a chill down my spine, and I realized that every single person standing outside was a suspect, including me. “Rest assured, Raven, we’re very thorough.”
Chapter 5
Merry wasn’t kidding about how thorough they were. Christian and I waited for two hours while they conducted a detailed investigation, documenting everything in their report. They examined the bomb fragments and confirmed that explosives had been set outside the house. From that, they concluded that the intent wasn’t to cause mass casualties but to cover up any trace evidence. After investigating the crime scene, they questioned us separately. While we all knew one of the victims, they didn’t feel that Hooper was the primary target.
I stoked the fire in my bedroom, grateful to finally be home. Still shaken by the events of the evening, I hadn’t changed out of my leather pants and sweater. I set the fire poker down and rubbed my eyes. It was past midnight. We’d waited at Patrick’s until Shepherd returned for us. He hugged the turns as he sped back home, and we were all anxious. Not only because of Hooper, but because a public attack against the higher authority seemed like an impossible feat. How could someone have slipped through the party with explosives and not a single Chitah have picked up the scent? Had Patrick’s guards been asleep? Why target someone in the most public of places, risking capture?
When the door opened, I stood up.
Christian entered the room, his gaze drifting to the fire.
“How’s Gem?”
“I don’t hear her anymore,” he said, closing the door behind him. “I think she’s done weeping for the night.”
I strode to the left side of the bed and sat down in the wooden chair by my desk. “Is Claude still draped over her like a tablecloth?”
“Aye. Things didn’t go well when Blue tried to pry him off the poor lass.”
“I couldn’t even get in the room. His switch was flipped, so it wasn’t worth the trouble.”
“Even Niko’s struck by her loss.” Christian rounded the bed and sat across from me. “He’s standing vigil outside her door.”
“Tomorrow when she’s more lucid, she’ll kick everyone out. That’s what a woman does when her heart is broken. She grieves privately.”
“I thought she shared her pain over a pint of ice cream with a sassy best friend.”
I crossed my legs. “When Gem’s ready to talk, I won’t be the first person she runs to, anyway.”
“And why’s that? You’re of the female persuasion, and you two get on fine.”
“Gem needs someone who’s good with words. I’m not exactly a pillar of strength when it comes to comforting people in their darkest hour. I’m too impervious to death.”
Christian’s laughter was as dark as a bottomless pit. “Aye, perhaps she needs to lean on someone with a heart.”
“Hey, I have a heart. It’s just a little dusty.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” he said so quietly that I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly.
“I’m here if she wants to talk, but I respect her right to privacy. When I went through that rough patch, she did the same for me. It meant a lot that everyone gave me the space I needed.” I shook my head. “Why Hooper?”
Christian flicked a glance at the desk beside me. “Wrong place, wrong time? Perhaps that’s why they dragged the body into the bushes. They didn’t want anyone mistaking him for the primary target. Or maybe he witnessed something going down and hid.”
“I didn’t really know him, but he seemed like a decent guy. Gem liked him.”
“Infatuation, to be sure. But not love.”
I snorted. “How would you know the difference?” I gave him a dubious look before switching to a more benign topic. “I hope we’re off the suspect list,” I said, steering my eyes to the fire. “There was a moment where I thought Niko and I were done for since our scent and emotional imprints were all over the place.”
Christian gently rubbed his hand across the scarlet bedspread. “You haven’t changed your mind about our date, have you?”
“Given the circumstances, do you think it’s appropriate?”
He rose to his feet and stood in front of the latticed windows. “Since when have we ever done anything appropriate?”
I smiled ruefully, admiring his tall stature. It might be interesting to see what kind of evening a man like Christian Poe would plan for a woman. “We’ll see.”
“You’re a terrible tease, Miss Black.”
When I stood up and stretched, a few joints cracked. “Has anyone seen Wyatt?”
“I heard him in the kitchen earlier but not since.”
I was curious what had happened to him at the party. He chatted with Hooper on a few occasions, and I wanted to get his take on things. When Christian followed me out of the bedroom, we parted ways, and I headed down to the second floor and peered into Wyatt’s computer room. All the lights were off except for the one inside the vending machine. I’d never actually been in Wyatt’s bedroom. When we used to rotate laundry days, he would always leave his clothes in a basket outside his door. Wyatt slept on the same level as Christian and me, only on the opposite side of the mansion. I ascended a winding staircase, the cold of the stone floor penetrating through my socks. When I passed windows overlooking the courtyard below, I glanced down. The heated pool was lit up with blue and green lights, but I didn’t see Gem floating on the water as she often did in the evening.
Wyatt’s door was closed, but I could see light seeping into the hall from the cracks. I rapped my knuckles against the wood, certain he wouldn’t hear me over the Pink Floyd song blaring from his room. After another knock, I cracked the door, recognizing the song as “Brain Damage.”
“Wyatt?”
I stood in the doorway and took it all in. Surprisingly, Wyatt didn’t have electricity. As far as I knew, no one’s bedroom was wired up. Gem compensated with candles and battery-operated lights. Claude had lanterns affixed to the walls.
In the center of the room was a massive black sectional that looked more like a giant square bed than a sofa. The arms nearly reached the end, and it faced left toward the fireplace.
Instead of greeting Wyatt, I had to soak it all in. The entire left wall had black shelving, cabinets along the bottom that flanked the fireplace, and blue cylindrical lanterns on the dividers. The colored glass gave it a futuristic and masculine vibe. I neared the shelves, my eyes wide.
Upon every shelf was a bizarre mixture of gargoyle and cat figurines. Mostly gargoyles. Some were reading, some were guarding, and others were leaning on shields or holding swords. One had a serpent tongue sticking out, and they were so morbid that I couldn’t stop gaping at them.
“Trippy, huh?” Wyatt asked. “I use them to ward off spirits, keep them out of my domain.”
“And the cats?”
“Same. There’s old folklore about cats seeing spirits, and specters usually do their best to avoid them.”
“Does it work?” I asked, shuffling sideways to look at them all.
“I’m pretty sure it does, because the spooks have always kept out of my abode. Back in the day, Gravewalkers used to keep a lot of cats. Viktor doesn’t even like the one we have lurking around outside, so that’s all I’ve got to secure my ass and give me privacy.”
I glanced back at the door and blinked. The entire wall around the door was black with a Pac-Man mural. The lines were bright blue, the dots and Pac-Man neon yellow. Several ghosts were chasing him, a red one right on his tail. “Since when do you like Pac-Man? I only ever see you playing that new stuff with all the rapid gunfire.”
“It’s apropos, don’t you think?”
“In what way?”
Wyatt kept speaking in that lazy stoner voice. “It’s symbolic of a Gravewalker’s constant plight. Just trying to get through life, but all the ghost
s are chasing him.”
I studied the dots on the board. “You trying to eat all the food. That’s about right.”
“I’m pretty sure the guy who conceived this game was either a Gravewalker or knew one. He understands.”
“Your man card is revoked. Where’s your bed?”
Leaning on the opposite arm of the sofa, a lazy smile stretched across his face. “You’re looking at it, buttercup.”
Well, it was certainly big enough.
“I used to have a round bed, but it was a pain in the ass,” he said, staring at his toes as he wiggled them. “My feet were always hanging off the edge. I roll around a lot.”
I reached the edge of the sofa. “Well, now you have nowhere to roll except into the fire.”
When the Pink Floyd song blaring from his wireless speaker ended, Wyatt lifted his phone and started swiping. “I need a mood lifter.”
“Are you stoned?”
“This isn’t a good time of year for mushrooms, so I had to break out a doobie.”
“Don’t tell me you grow those.”
“I don’t grow anything. They’re wild and free.”
I made a mental note to avoid any mushrooms at mealtime. If Kira was collecting herbs or anything else from the wooded part of our property, she might not know one mushroom from the next.
“Ah, found one,” he said. “You like Electric Light Orchestra?”
“Who?”
“Sacrilege. Here. Listen to ‘Mr. Blue Sky.’ Everybody knows that one.”
“Can you turn that down?”
When the volume lowered, Wyatt tossed his phone aside and reclined his head. He was lying with his arms and legs spread as if someone had shot him down.
“What happened to you earlier at the party?”
“I split from Rollergirl. After she finished her drink, all she wanted to do was find Hooper. Nobody needs a third wheel, so I took off. Headed to a room on the other side of the mansion where they were hoarding all the good food. You know, like those ham rolls and fancy crackers. Then all of a sudden…” Wyatt made a sound like an explosion, his arms reaching up. “Not a comforting sound for a Gravewalker. That means freshies, and freshies love nothing more than finding the nearest Gravewalker.” Wyatt raised his head, his eyes glazed like two donuts. “Did Hooper suffer?”
