by Laken Cane
And finally, they nodded.
“Will you come back?” Jack asked. “I mean, will you really come back?”
“I have to,” she answered. “I will.”
But she knew she might not.
So did they.
Owen said nothing.
“When?” Jack asked, his voice strained.
“I don’t know. I just…don’t know. But it has to be soon. I have to figure my shit out soon.”
Time was running out for all of them.
She could feel the rot. Feel it spreading through her body like ink on paper. She would lose her monster.
Lose her fight.
I’m afraid.
You’re everything, sweet thing. You’re alive.
No one knew what to do or how to act. Finally, the berserker started to stride away then turned back and grabbed her to him.
“Don’t leave me forever,” he whispered.
She couldn’t speak.
And then there was nothing to do but go home.
Strad tailed her all the way, unwilling to let her out of his sight. As she drove up her street, she called her floater.
“News?” she asked.
“He’s been home for three hours and forty-seven minutes. Hasn’t so much as looked out a window since.”
“Thanks.”
And just as she clicked off, Eugene called.
She stiffened automatically at the tenseness in his tone.
“Our killer has left us another body, Rune. He’s changed his MO again.”
“Fuck. Did you call Bill?”
He hesitated. “I tried. He didn’t answer. I’ll try to get him again. You’ll head out to the scene?”
“Yeah. Give me the location. And after, I’ll swing by Bill’s house to check on him.”
He gave her the location of the latest body—behind an ice cream shop called Missy’s in the city. She didn’t ask for more information. She’d get more than he had when she got there.
But first…she glanced into her rearview at Strad’s car, following her much too closely. She pulled into her drive and jumped out, then strode to the berserker’s car window. “I got a call from Eugene. He wants me to check out a murder. Then I’m going to see Bill. I need to do that before I’m…”
“Gone,” he finished.
She backed away from the window. “I’ll be back tonight. I swear it.”
Without hesitating further, she called her monster while it was still hers to call. Using all the considerable speed she possessed, she flew from the Moor.
And suddenly, it felt like the end.
Like she was finishing up, and it was the end.
Whatever sound of agony she made then was snatched away by the wind, and she ran on, her heart a thousand pounds of pain in her chest.
Chapter Thirty
Eugene had sent some of his people to guard the scene until she had a chance to look it over. They maintained a wide but unobtrusive perimeter around the area.
No hue and cry had been raised, no human investigators demanded entry, and no cars with lights pulsing sat in the street.
There were only Annex ops and a sad, destroyed body.
“He’s changed his MO again.”
Indeed he had.
“What does it mean when a serial killer keeps changing shit up?” she murmured, not expecting an answer, but one of the ops, a young woman Rune vaguely remembered, spoke.
“Maybe he got a late start and is just finding his way.”
Rune nodded. “You may be right, Ms. Anderson.”
“Sasha, please.” She grinned and held out a hand to Rune, then darted a look at the body. “Or maybe our killer just likes to screw with us.”
Rune shook the ops hand, then pulled a small flashlight from her pocket. She knelt down beside him and flashed the light over his melted face, then his naked, bludgeoned body. “Or maybe,” she said, to herself more than Sasha, “each victim is killed in a way that is personal to him.” She eyed the dead man’s mutilated genitalia.
“Reflects something that happened to him,” Sasha agreed. “Or to those he loved.”
Rune closed her eyes for a long moment, inhaling, trying unsuccessfully to get a scent from the killer. She smelled only blood and charred flesh.
She caught a bit of color beneath his hand and lifted it gently to get at the scrap of purple paper lying on the ground. The edge of it was caught between his fingers.
It was a note—their first real communication from the killer.
Her heart began to beat with slow, heavy thumps.
I am the blade of vengeance for Others who suffered beneath hard human hands.
Shit.
Other. The killer was Other.
And he was right—every one of the victims who could be identified had long histories of criminal activity. But the killer must have known something they didn’t if he was sure his victims had done harm to Others.
“Vengeance killer,” she muttered.
“A news van is heading this way,” one of the other ops told her, his voice quiet, but alert.
“That was fast,” Rune said. “Not a word. And keep them back.”
She called Eugene and told him what she’d found.
“Bring me the note,” he said. “I’m still at the Annex.”
She left the dead man to the Annex ops and the humans who’d soon be flooding the area and jogged toward the Annex. An Annex mobile lab was already easing toward the crime scene.
Eugene’s eyes sat atop pillows of puffy flesh, and his skin was too pale. “Thank you, Rune,” he said, when she handed him the note. “I’ll see if we can get some prints off this, but our killer isn’t stupid. Or careless.”
She gave him a curt nod and turned to leave.
“Elizabeth took Fie to her house,” he said.
She frowned and faced him once more. “Was she ready to leave the Annex?”
He shrugged. “I would rather she have stayed, but Elizabeth thought it best to take the child somewhere slightly more…normal. She’ll bring her back for testing and for the lengthy stay she’ll require after we’ve built her a face.”
“You have ops guarding the house?”
“Of course. No one is getting to the child.”
“You shouldn’t have let them leave.” Rune caressed her stake wounds absentmindedly, stopping when Eugene’s stare settled on her fingers.
“I wanted to keep Elizabeth calm, and maybe she’s right. Fie was growing very unsettled here. She was unhappy.”
And you care about her happiness. Right.
She turned once more to leave, and that time, he didn’t stop her.
She toyed briefly with the idea of going home and delaying her talk with Bill, but she ignored her almost overwhelming desire for her bed and berserker and asked an op to drive her to Bill’s place. Her boots were shredded from that night’s little trek across the pavement.
She called her floater before she got there. “Any movement?”
“None.”
“You can take off. I’m on my way there.”
“You got it.”
Bill’s house was completely dark when she arrived. She stared up at it for a full five minutes before she knocked on his front door.
He didn’t answer the door until she rang the bell, knocked again, and then texted him threatening to kick the door in.
Finally, the outside light came on, and he opened the door. “What the fuck are you doing here this time of night?”
“We need to talk.”
“Now?” He ran a hand over his face. “Rune. I told you—”
“Let me in, Bill.”
He blew out a tired breath and motioned her inside. “Be my guest.”
She sat down and waited for him to sit across from her before she spoke. “I want to know what’s going on with you. I’m not going to let someone I care about be tormented by a nameless asshole. Tell me what’s going on.” She crossed her arms and leaned back. “I’m not leaving until I get an
swers.”
“Do you want coffee?”
“Do you want to stop delaying?” But hell, she did want coffee. “Fuck,” she muttered, beneath her breath. She ignored his tiny smile and followed him into the kitchen.
His house was neat and uncluttered with small rooms and matching furniture. There was nothing personal about it. No photos, no pile of magazines or newspapers, no pets. Not even a fake plant or a shelf of knickknacks.
“Your house is too sterile, dude,” she said.
He put the coffee on and got two mugs from the cabinet. “I’m rarely home. I sleep here. The rest of the time I’m at work.”
“Elizabeth took Fie home.”
“I know.”
“Not a good idea.”
“She’s heavily guarded.”
“Still. Not a good idea. She was guarded the first time she was taken.”
He shrugged. “I’m fucking tired, Rune.”
Too tired to care about Fie.
“Bill…”
“Tell me about our serial killer.”
So she did.
By the time she’d finished telling him about the events of the night, she was on her third cup of coffee and he appeared a little more relaxed.
“What’s going on, Bill?”
He looked down at his empty mug and pushed it back and forth between his palms. “I can’t tell you. But you’re right. We did need to have this talk. I’m not hurt. I’m not being beaten or attacked or tortured by anyone.” He spread his hands and looked at her, and finally, there was the old Bill lurking in his smile. “I am exactly where I need to be, Rune. Stop worrying. And no matter what Eugene says, you don’t need to follow me or post floaters outside my house.” He leaned closer to her. “If the floater had been an Annex op, I’d have killed him. He lives because he’s yours.” He sat back. “I’m sure that’s why Eugene sent you instead of his people.”
She couldn’t look at him. “I couldn’t let anyone fuck with you.”
He reached over to take her hands. “You have to stop thinking that everyone is your responsibility. We have our own lives, and parts of our lives are not Eugene’s business. Not your business.” He softened his voice. “Leave me alone, dear. Please.”
He was right. She knew he was right.
And Eugene Parish had sent her to stick her nose—and his—where it didn’t belong. She’d spied on a friend. “If you ever need me, I’m here.”
Yeah, she felt like shit.
She stood and carried her cup to the sink. Bill said nothing as she rinsed out her mug, and she said nothing as she placed the cup carefully on the countertop and walked from the house, leaving Bill to his secrets, his bruises, and his life.
Chapter Thirty-One
When she woke up the next morning, the serial killer had a name.
Vengeance Killer! was stamped on the front pages of newspapers, the talk of the early morning shows, and the highlight of the news programs.
She called Eugene. “One of your ops talked to the media.”
“I know.” His voice was tight. “It’s been handled.”
Shit. “I hope it wasn’t Sasha. I like that girl.”
“How was Bill? He’s at work right now but declined to talk with me during this morning’s briefing.”
“He knows you sent me to spy on him. He even knew about the floater I posted outside his house. He wasn’t happy and told me, basically, to fuck off.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to fuck off. So are you.”
“Don’t think you can—”
“I’m not having this conversation. You and I are going to leave Bill alone. That’s the end of it.”
“Fine, fine. But I have a feeling you’re going to regret that decision.”
She hesitated. She didn’t have a good track record with making the right decisions. Eugene knew that. He was playing her. “Fuck off,” she said, but softly.
“Rune?”
She hung up and turned at Ellie’s voice.
His gaze was questioning and held the slightest bit of anxiety. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, baby.”
“I made breakfast. Come eat before you go in.”
She grabbed him to her with a suddenness that startled both of them. “I’d give anything to see you happy again, Ellie.”
He pulled far enough away to peer into her eyes. “I’m not unhappy. I’m worried about you. I don’t have time to recover from one scare before I’m hit with another.” He smiled, and for an instant he looked like the Ellie of old. “I have Levi, and…I realized I’ve never really been in love before, Rune.”
“What’s that like, Ellie?”
He widened his eyes and stared at her for a long, thoughtful moment. “Rune. You know what that’s like.”
She flushed. “Yeah.”
He pulled her into the kitchen. All her men, except for Owen, were gathered around the table, eating as though there would be no more food.
“Lex okay?” she asked.
Levi took a swallow of coffee and nodded. “She wants to see you before you go in.”
Rune piled a plate with eggs and bacon, grabbed a cup of coffee, and went to Lex’s bedroom. She hadn’t had a chance to update the Other and it was past time she did.
“Can you eat a little?” she asked Lex, when she walked into the bedroom.
Lex lay with a stack of pillows behind her, watching music videos. “Ellie brought me broth earlier. I kept it down. I don’t want to chance eggs.” She shuddered.
“How are you feeling?”
“Awful.” She hesitated. “Can you…smell me?”
“No, baby,” Rune lied.
She left the plate of food on the bureau and carried her coffee to the bed. She sat down carefully, studying Lex’s face.
The girl’s cheekbones stood out in sharp relief, making her sluggish, feverish eyes appear even more sunken than they already were. Her skin was splitting in places, and her lips looked like overly ripe slices of fruit that were about to burst and spew their contents upon her chin.
Strangely enough, she was more lucid than she’d been in the Annex clinic.
“You’ve been through so much fucking sickness, Lex. You’ll get through this one, too. Then maybe you should start taking some vitamins.”
Lex managed a quick grin. “Maybe.”
“I’m going to Skyll. As soon as I can.”
“And I’ll go with you. The cure is there.”
“Yes.”
“Denim told me the crew can’t go with us.”
“He’s right. It’s not possible.”
“Then we’ll have to come back.”
“We will.” She paused. “Both of us.”
Lex didn’t ask her what she meant. Likely, she already knew.
Rune started to take a sip of her coffee when her cell rang. “Elizabeth,” Rune said. “Everything okay?”
“Rune.”
Rune stood quickly, frowning. “Fie? What’s wrong?”
Fie breathed into the phone. “Bad men came,” she said, finally.
Gooseflesh erupted on Rune’s skin, and she pushed a fist into her stake scars. “I’m on my way, honey. I’m going to put Ellis on the phone—you remember Ellis? He’ll talk to you until I get there.”
“Rune,” Lex called, as Rune started to leave the room. “What happened?”
“Elizabeth’s in trouble.” Rune ran to the kitchen. Her men jumped to their feet as soon as they saw the look on her face. “One of you call Eugene. Get to Elizabeth’s house as soon as you can.” She tossed Ellis her phone. “Keep Fie calm until I get there.”
And without another word, she was out the door. She didn’t even think of taking her car. Her monster was faster than a car.
The front of Elizabeth’s house was surrounded by a fence of hedges. Rune knew at least one guard, probably two, had been placed somewhere near the front. The back, enclosed by a privacy fence, would have contained more ops, and at least two o
f them had been stationed inside.
There was no sign of any of them.
When she was at the front door, she stood there for five impossible seconds, terrified of what she’d discover inside.
Her heart hurt her chest.
“Shit,” she cried, and shoved open the unlocked door.
The entryway was empty.
But she smelled the blood.
“Elizabeth,” she yelled. She found the first dead operative lying with a broken neck outside the living room. The scent of blood was not coming from him.
Inside the living room was…
Horror.
Just horror.
And blood, there was that.
Fie squatted beside Elizabeth, the cell phone on the floor.
For an instant, Rune was the one crouched on a floor slick with blood, the dead lying around her.
She shook her head once, hard, and walked carefully to Fie, stepping over cut and bloody bodies. She slipped as her boot skidded through blood.
The room was a scene of destruction and death. She counted the bodies of fourteen more ops. Fifteen, she realized, when she spotted one of them up against the fireplace.
She knelt down beside Fie and Elizabeth. “Elizabeth,” she whispered.
But Elizabeth was long dead. Her throat had been cut.
Rune looked at Fie. “What happened?”
Fie, her skeletal little face somber, looked away from Elizabeth. “The bad men came.”
Rune nodded. “Can you tell me what happened then?”
“They made her bleed,” Fie said. “They hurt her. She fell down.”
“Okay, baby.”
“The guards got killed too.”
Rune’s swallow hurt her throat. She heard cars roaring up the street and knew her men had arrived.
Not all of the dead were Annex ops. Some of the dead were Fie’s “bad men.”
“Who killed the bad men, honey?”
Fie’s barely there lips lifted in a proud smile and the innocent ice in her eyes chilled Rune’s heart.
“I did,” the child said, shrugging. “But I didn’t kill Owen. I let him go, ‘cause I like Owen.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Rune heard someone behind her before Fie jumped to her feet, squealing. “Uncle B’serk!”
She closed her eyes, unable to turn and look at him.
