Raven Mask

by Winter Pennington

  “You belong with us,” she said strongly.

  “Are you against them now?”

  She shook her head, auburn tresses glistening deep red in the sunlight. “No. We were like them once. I’m not against them, but you’re one of us. We’re your family. I knew it the moment I saw you in the parking lot outside your business. I knew it the moment your energy brushed mine.” Her voice fell. “You threw your power at me. Do you remember?”

  I’d met Lenorre in The Two Points when Rupert and I had been following Rosalin, and I’d eventually confronted Rosalin and questioned her about her dealings with the pack. Our beasts had displayed their power, and my wolf had proved dominant to hers.

  “Do you remember what Lenorre said to you?”

  “Which part?”

  “Your power hit me. It hit me hard. The only other witch,” she emphasized the word like a dirty word, “who’s hit me that hard with her power was Sheila.”

  Rosalin, as Beta werewolf, was the second most dominant werewolf of the Blackthorne Pack. In order to remain Alpha, Sheila had to pack more punch with her power.

  “You’re stronger than she is.” She spoke like something sour was in her mouth.

  “I want you to tell me something.” I looked at her then and her light brown gaze held mine.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Do you remember when Lenorre sent you home with me?”

  She grinned. “Yes, why?”

  “How did you get the scars on your back?”

  Rosalin leaned back in her seat. “I can’t tell you.”

  “What happened, Rosalin?”

  She shook her head. “Kassandra, please, don’t do this.”

  “Does it have to do with the pack?” I didn’t intend to let it go. It irked me that she didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.

  “Yes,” she said, and that one word fell heavy between us. Shadows of pain were in her eyes, as if the memories were unfolding in the back of her mind. She closed them, clearly because she didn’t want me to see what was there.

  “It was her, wasn’t it?” I asked, lowering my voice. “Sheila. She did that to you?”

  Her eyes flew open. “How do you…how would you?”

  “I’m an investigator and she’s a sadist. It wasn’t hard to piece together. Besides,” I watched the waitress approach with our food, “I’m your friend.”

  Sheila Morris, I thought, tasting the rage on my tongue, now it’s fucking personal. If you ever lay a hand on her again, I’ll tear your world apart. The wolf’s energy rumbled through me. Rosalin was as close to a pack as I would ever get, and damn it, I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.

  Rosalin picked up her fork, watching me. Then she put it down. “Kassandra...”

  “I won’t do anything.” I forced myself to smile, knowing it was a dark smile that said I’d enjoy hurting someone. Funny, I didn’t see it as hurting, but protecting. Did that make me a monster?

  “Kassandra, please, you can’t.”

  I bent over the table. “Rosalin, if she ever so much as lays a fingertip on you again, I’ll break every one of them. I will not sit idle and let her harm you.” I touched her hand on the table, and a sudden jolt of energy made mine twitch like the shock of static electricity, only more.

  Rosalin’s eyes widened with surprise and her lips parted. “Oh, no.” She covered her mouth with a hand, shaking her head.

  “What?”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Why did I do what?”

  “You don’t know what you just did?”

  “Um, no.”

  “You just claimed me as one of your wolves, like an alpha claims their pack.” Her voice was incredibly low, low enough it’d take another werewolf or vampire to translate.

  “I did what?”

  “When you offered your protection. You felt it. I saw your body react to it.”

  “I felt…something. I figured it was just static.”

  “I wish it was. ’Cause if she finds out, I’m in deep shit.”

  “It was an accident.” I shoved a piece of steak in my mouth, chewing. I would say I didn’t believe her, but Rosalin didn’t freak out over nothing. “Besides, wouldn’t I have realized I’d just claimed you? That didn’t feel like much of anything.”

  “It was a spark, promising and binding. What were you expecting? Fireworks?”

  “Yeah, considering I didn’t even notice what I’d done, fireworks would’ve been nice.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I paid for lunch. I wouldn’t have felt right having Rosalin do it after what I did to her. I didn’t really intend for her to in the first place. In the privacy of the car we’d spoken about what had transpired.

  Even when Rosalin explained that Sheila and any of the other wolves in the territory would sense my claim on her, I wasn’t worried. What a strange thing. The clock on my desk said almost five o’clock. Rosalin sat in the corner of my office flipping through a magazine that must’ve come from the lobby or Rit’s office.

  June opened the door and glared at Rosalin, who ignored her.

  “Your five o’clock is here.”

  “Send him in.”

  Ethan Nelson looked like he was in his early to mid-twenties. I was surprised that he resembled his mother since Timothy had looked so much like his father. Ethan’s blond hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck in a ponytail. I studied his pale face, relieved that his eyes were hazel, not brown like Timothy’s. Not many people consider how difficult it is for someone to look into the lively eyes of a person that looks so familiar to someone they’ve lost. The only thing that didn’t remind me of his mother or father was the fullness of his lips.

  I stood, then rounded the desk to offer my hand. “Kassandra Lyall. You have my sincerest condolences, Mr. Nelson.” I stopped myself before telling him that what happened to his brother was truly terrible because we both knew it. Useless to point out the obvious to someone grieving. Ethan took my hand in a strong grip, and I returned the handshake firmly.

  “You’re the investigator the cops have working on my brother’s case?”

  I took my hand away and sat back behind my desk. “I am. Why?”

  “You’re just not what I expected.”

  “Why do you say that?” I tried to keep my expression polite.

  Ethan took a seat, pushing up the sleeves of his blue-and-white flannel. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be rude or discourteous. You’re just younger and a lot smaller than I expected.”

  I forced myself to smile. “Appearances are deceiving.”

  Ethan nodded, looking uncomfortably around my office and finally at Rosalin.

  She peeked over the magazine and said, “Howdy.”

  “Hey.”

  “Rosalin is my very unprofessional assistant.” I lanced her a disapproving look.

  She got the hint, putting the magazine down and offering Ethan her hand. “I’m sorry to hear about your brother.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  Rosalin walked back to her seat and Ethan stared at her as if he couldn’t help himself. She opened her magazine. Either she was ignoring it or she was completely oblivious to him.

  “Ethan.” I had to say his name twice to get him to pay attention to me and was tempted to snap my fingers in front of his face.

  “Yeah?”

  “What did you need to talk to me about? I’m already looking into your brother’s murder.” I folded my arms on top of the desk.

  “I came here initially to talk to you. The other lady told me she didn’t know when you’d be back.”

  I nodded. “Why are you trying to pull another PI in on the case?”

  “I wanted to talk to you. I figured if I hired her she’d say something to you.”

  I crossed my legs, finding a pen to scribble notes if I needed to. I usually didn’t take them because I had a pretty good memory. “What do you need to talk to me about?”

  “Timothy mentioned that abo
ut you.” A look of sorrow flickered in and out of his hazel gaze.

  “He mentioned me?” I couldn’t keep all of the surprise from my voice.

  “He said you were tough and to the point. He also told me about the cops coming out to the house when that man was attacked. I was at school so we spoke over the phone. Is it true my mom threw a fit and that you threatened to take her to jail?”

  “I didn’t threaten to throw her in jail. The cops did.”

  “Oh.”

  “What else did your brother say to you? Were the two of you close?”

  “Yeah, he talked to me. I was the only one in the house that didn’t listen to everything Mom says. Timothy and I had each other’s backs. He couldn’t talk to our mother. I’m sure you noticed.”

  “I did notice, and I’m sorry,” I said, because I was. I couldn’t imagine growing up in their situation.

  “Dad’s always got Mom’s back. We couldn’t talk to him either. So Timothy and I, we talked a lot. He was able to tell me things he couldn’t tell our parents, and he knew I wouldn’t rat him out.”

  I thought of several things to say and finally decided to ask, “Did you know about your brother’s interest in the preternatural community?”

  “He mentioned it a few times. He said he tried to talk to you and you told him to drop it. Is that true?”

  “True enough,” I said. Those weren’t my exact words, but the gist of it was pretty damn close.

  Ethan laughed. “You’re not the only one that tried to tell him that. I tried too. I think,” he sounded uncertain, “I know something you need to know.”

  “What is it?”

  “Timothy met a girl a few weeks ago. He told me the last time I spoke with him over the phone. She’s a girl from school, Alyssa Cunningham. I think that’s her name.” Ethan sighed heavily. “Man, he thought he was in love. Said she was interested in all the things he was—role playing, monsters, video games.” He shook his head. “I should’ve said something sooner. I should’ve told him it was a stupid idea. How was I to know?”

  Know what? Outwardly, I shrugged. “People make their own decisions, even sixteen-year-old boys.”

  “Especially sixteen-year-old boys,” Rosalin added.

  Ethan jumped as if he’d forgotten she was in the room. When he looked back at me it was with fierce determination. “Timothy was meeting this chick at night when our parents went to bed.”

  “It sounds like Timothy was drawn to her because they had similar interests,” she said. “Alyssa might have connections to a rogue group of vampires.”

  Rosalin seemed to be unknowingly following my thoughts. I nodded in agreement.

  “What if Alyssa’s the vampire?” Ethan asked.

  “You said Timothy met her at school?”

  “Yeah.”

  I shook my head. “She’s not a vampire unless she’s attending night school.”

  “Timothy went to a public school,” Ethan said, clearly disappointed that whatever scenario he had come up with regarding a vampire Lolita wouldn’t work out.

  “Alyssa’s connected somehow,” Rosalin said.

  I said what I was thinking. “Alyssa’s connected to Timothy’s sire.”

  Ethan had a lost look on his face. “Sire?”

  I stood and closed the office door. “Ethan, can you keep a really big secret from your parents? Your brother’s...life may well depend on it.”

  “I won’t tell them anything. Why? What is it?”

  I told Ethan Nelson my suspicions about his brother. Someone in his family needed to know, and since he was the only one prepared to speak to me without a Bible and some holy water in hand, it had to be him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Detective Kingfisher,” Arthur answered on the fourth ring.

  “Arthur, it’s Kassandra. I need you to pull up information on a student named Alyssa Cunningham that attended Timothy’s school.”

  “All right, let me get to a computer.”

  I waited until I heard him typing. “Alyssa Cunningham?”

  “Yes, she’s around Timothy’s age, attends the same school and everything.”

  “She doesn’t have a record.”

  “That’s a relief,” I said.

  “What do you want me to find, Kass?”

  “I want her address. We need to interrogate her.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Still at work. I’m about to go home.”

  “You want to do this tonight?”

  “Could you make that happen?”

  “If you intend to interrogate her, I’m going with you. I’ve got her address. Huh,” he said, “she doesn’t live very far from your girlfriend’s club. Kassandra, do you think she’s connected to the murder?”

  “She gave Timothy to the vampires.”

  “Can you prove it?”

  “I can prove that I know someone that knows Timothy was talking to her before his disappearance, and when I find Timothy, I can prove it.”

  “Meet me outside your girlfriend’s club at eight thirty,” he said, hanging up before I could answer.

  “Does that mean you have time to give me a ride home?” Rosalin asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, “barely.”

  *

  I dropped Rosalin off at Lenorre’s. Afterward, I went by my apartment to get the Pro .40 and small-of-the-back holster. I was surprised to see I still had twenty minutes when I got back behind the wheel.

  I liked the Pro .40. I’d taken the Mark III out to the shooting range and found it was pretty good, but I didn’t like it as much as the .40. I kept telling myself I would get a Kimber Eclipse, but they were so freaking expensive it’d be a while until I could afford the one I saw in a weapons-and-ammo magazine a few weeks ago. I didn’t even know if Rupert could get me a good discount on it, but I planned to find out. Some femmes collect diamonds, I prefer guns. Seriously, what will the diamond do for me? Sparkle? Unless you’re certain you can temporarily blind an opponent, I wouldn’t recommend wearing anything that sparkles in a fight. Otherwise, you might as well hold a flashing sign over your head that reads: Right here.

  I parked next to Arthur’s black sapphire Crown Victoria. He stepped out of it and met me halfway. “She lives with her parents,” he said.

  “I figured as much.”

  “We have to talk to them first, you realize that? It’ll take away the element of surprise if they tell her we want to talk to her.”

  “I know how it goes.” The sign of The Two Points burned more brightly into the night than the few old-fashioned lamps in the parking lot. The asphalt was so dark it looked like black water. I was glad it was Thursday and that the line at the door was surprisingly short. It’d lengthen later in the evening.

  I preferred to drive, and I didn’t want to ride with Arthur. Sometimes it’s best to be able to drive away quickly, without worrying about where you have to drop someone off or whether they want to go hunting monsters with you if you don’t have time to dump them somewhere. Arthur gave me the address and was telling me how to get to the house when I heard a woman’s voice call out over the small crowd. “Kassandra.”

  I whipped around to find the face that went with that voice, and her sea-green eyes met mine. With the distance between us, it wasn’t the inviting smile that made it hard to look away. It was the outfit. A pair of form-fitting vinyl pants hung low on her hips. A matching corset was cinched at her waist, over a frilly white renaissance shirt that seemed to bloom out of the corset like the petals of some demented flower. Somehow, the outfit worked for her. She managed not to look like a gothic barmaid. I would’ve looked absolutely silly in it, but Eris didn’t. No, she looked the complete opposite of silly.

  “That doesn’t look like your…” Arthur stammered, staring in the same direction I was.

  I noticed most of the people in line outside the club were staring at her too.

  “That’s because she’s not,” I said.

  Eris stalked toward us in spiked heels.
It took more effort than I’d like to admit not to watch the way her hips swayed. I forced myself to turn and look at Arthur, whose eyes were wide. I couldn’t tell if he was scared, or…well, I really didn’t want to know what the alternative was.

  I met the full weight of her gaze and said, “Eris.”

  “Kassandra.” She said my name again, this time lower, like silk flowing through my hands. She tilted her head to the side. “To what does one owe the pleasure of seeing you again, so soon?”

  “I’m working.” Ignoring the fluttering sensation in the pit of my stomach, I buried my hands in my coat pockets and tried to look casual, but probably managed to look exactly what I was feeling…uncomfortable.

  “Business,” she murmured, sparing a glance at Arthur’s car. She trailed one startling white finger across the trunk and looked at Arthur. “Police business, I presume? Have you any lead on the boy?”

  I said, “No,” and Arthur said, “Yes, ma’am.”

  I wanted to get in his face and call him an idiot. I didn’t know Eris enough to trust her. Why was he being so compliant? And “ma’am”? Come on!

  Her face fell into a blank mask, and even though her features were expressionless, her eyes burned intensely.

  “You do not trust me.” Something in her tone made me feel bad, like I had sincerely hurt her feelings.

  I took a step forward, one step, placing my body daringly close to hers. “What game are you playing?”

  Arthur wouldn’t have noticed it, but I noticed her very slow, deliberate blink.

  “Kassandra, if I was playing a game with you, you would know it.”

  My cell phone rang and I jumped, which kind of ruined the tough-werewolf attitude I was trying to project.

  “That is most likely Lenorre,” Eris said.

  “I doubt it.” But sure enough, the number on the caller ID was Lenorre’s.

  “Yeah?” I answered, knowing I sounded utterly bitchy.

  “Kassandra.” Lenorre’s voice made my stomach swan-dive. I walked away from Arthur and Eris.

  “What is it?” I said angrily, without really meaning to sound that way.

  “I take it Eris has found you?”