Starling gave him a cool look, her head tilted at him. “Demons are fully capable of sexual activity and enjoyment and frequently partake in said activities with both their own kind and humans.”
Hendricks looked up to see Arch holding his head, like he had a headache. Leave it to the puritan to get shut down when they needed to discuss something important. “So … you said this guy—demon—Sygraath—feeds on death. But he had an emission—like, an orgasm emission, like a cumshot—here?” He waited for Starling’s subtle nod. “So he was here … uh … beating off?”
“So it would seem,” Starling said.
“And he killed these people,” Arch said, finally getting his head back in the game. Hendricks had been ready to clap him on the back to get him out of it. “Killed them so he could get his … kinky thrill?”
“That appears the natural conclusion,” Starling replied, to Hendricks’s mind still amazingly neutral, especially since she’d just posited a scenario in which a demon had killed people in order to get off. Then again, he wasn’t sure he’d seen her express a single emotion yet.
Hendricks felt his stomach churn at the thought of that, and he took an involuntary step back from the demon’s ejaculate. “So this guy jerked off right here on the side of the road? Like, out exposed, where everyone could see him?”
Starling shook her head, and her hair still looked lively, fire-red in the dull light. “He was most probably in a car. I would speculate that his emission burned through the automobile and came to rest here on the pavement before it lost its heat and settled.” She looked from him to Arch. “It is, however, still highly toxic to humans.”
“So,” Hendricks asked, something tickling the back of his mind, “if you said that demons regularly have sex with humans, but his spunk is fatal to us … how does that work?”
Starling cocked her head at him, and he realized it was her expression of choice. “You of all people should know that demons do not all care about whether their actions harm humans.” Hendricks felt his gut clench tight when she said it, and he said nothing as she went on. “However, not all demons have such adverse effects in their sexual activities. Just some types.”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Arch said, and there was a raw sort of disgust in the cop’s voice. His body was held at an angle, like he was about ready to haul off and hit someone. It made Hendricks glad he was standing a few steps away. “So we’ve got a murdering bunch of demons slaughtering their way through town, we’ve got some pervert demon who’s …” he lowered his voice, “… pleasuring himself while causing massive accidents.” His face was stern, angry. “This is out of control.”
“Agreed,” Hendricks said, and wandered over to look over the edge of the bridge at the chaos below again. “I’ve got work to do.”
“Both of us do,” Arch said from behind him. “We need to find these things and start putting an end to them now.”
Hendricks looked back. “Don’t you have a shift to finish?”
Arch let out a short exhalation through his nose that reminded Hendricks of a bull snorting. “I’m supposed to serve and protect, remember? Far as I’m concerned, fixing this list of problems is priority one. Pointless patrols through the community and traffic cop duty can wait. Let’s go burn this scum.”
Hendricks nodded and shot a look at Starling, who waited next to Arch. “You got any ideas where we can start looking?”
Starling walked toward him with slow steps, until she was standing beside him and looking over the bridge at his side. Her expression flickered as she looked down on the scene below, like the muscles in her face were twitching. “There are … possibilities,” she said.
“All right,” Arch said and turned to walk away. He was walking back toward the motel, and Hendricks could already see there was an itch in the deputy’s britches, a definite urgency to his step.
“Come along,” Starling said. She started back toward the motel as well. Hendricks just followed her.
* * *
Erin saw Hendricks look over the bridge from where she stood below. It was getting damned chilly, and she was occasionally stamping her feet, just trying to keep warm. She didn’t like to admit it, but she was a freeze baby and hated the winters in Tennessee. This was like a slice of autumn and it was way too damned early.
Still, the amount of chill she felt was doubled when she saw Hendricks look down and survey the scene. It was hard to miss his big cowboy hat, even if she hadn’t recognized his face. She could see a couple other people with him—Arch, that was obvious. Even if the big black lawman hadn’t stood out in a crowd because of his height and build, his skin color coupled with the uniform he wore would have given him away.
She wondered what the hell Arch was doing bringing Hendricks to a crime scene, and then she saw the redhead with them and it made her even more uneasy. The redhead was of a reasonable height, and when she sashayed up next to Hendricks, Erin felt her stomach drop. The woman was a looker, without a doubt. Pale as death itself, but pretty; high cheekbones, a well-sculpted face.
Erin wondered who she was. It definitely wasn’t Arch’s wife. Alison was all too familiar to her. She wasn’t wearing a uniform, so it seemed unlikely she was with the THP. Not in that tank top. And why would she be hanging out with Arch and Hendricks right in the middle of a crime scene?
None of it made a damned lick of sense, not one damned lick.
Arch disappeared behind the bridge’s concrete safety rail, hidden away from her sight. But Hendricks and the redhead stayed there until Hendricks came closer, looking over the edge of the bridge. The redhead joined him a moment later.
She didn’t know if it was the burn of jealousy she felt, exactly, but there was a definite what-the-fuck factor to the emotions that were following her swirling thoughts. It wasn’t like Hendricks was in town to work. He didn’t have a job, she knew that. He didn’t even have a damned car. He was like a bum, except he had money and smelled way better, most of the time.
Erin saw the redhead turn, and start off down the bridge, and Hendricks was just a step or two behind her. Any closer and if she tripped he’d fall right into her twat.
Which, for all she knew, he already had.
* * *
Lerner was waiting at the far end of the closed-off bridge, behind a police cordon. He usually didn’t let those sort of things stop him, but there was a whole assload of Tennessee state cops in the area, and he wasn’t looking for entanglements with the human world’s version of a justice system at the moment. He had enough other shit to worry about, frankly, without antagonizing the Tennessee Highway patrolman standing guard just a few feet away from him.
The rain was gone but the clouds remained, the dark skies overhead hinting that there’d be more later. Lerner didn’t care, really, other than he didn’t like to get wet. He’d heard on the news earlier that the entire Caledonia River Valley—what he figured was this town and maybe the whole county—was at risk of a flood, the water getting high on some dam up the river.
Lerner had other problems. He sniffed and could smell it, even this far off. He could see a motel and a gas station on the other side of the closed-off bridge over the interstate and knew that what he was smelling was closer to that end of the bridge than the one he was on.
“Emission,” Duncan said, and Lerner could hear him sniffing as well.
“What are you thinking?” Lerner asked.
Duncan shrugged. “Some type of soul-eater getting ambitious about drumming up more business. Probably a Sygraath, based on the emission.” He sniffed. “A really horny one, judging by how much is on the ground there.”
“How do you figure?” Lerner asked.
“I think it burned through a car,” Duncan said, and Lerner could still hear him sniff. “Some traces of melted metal, cloth, carpet. Given the number of bodies visible over the bridge, number of cars, it was a hell of a lot of dead to feed on.”
There were a few people past the line, a local cop from what Lerner could see,
a tall black man. He had a redhaired lady and a guy in a cowboy hat with him. The wind picked up and Lerner could feel it tickle the flesh of his shell. Chilly. “What’s up with them?” he whispered to Duncan.
“Hmm,” Duncan replied, huddling beneath his navy jacket. He squinted in concentration as Lerner watched him. “Couple garden-variety humans, possibly of the demon-hunting stripe, and—” He stopped when he was looking at the woman. “Um.”
Duncan didn’t say “Um,” at least not in Lerner’s experience. “‘Um,’ what?” Lerner asked.
“She’s …” Duncan seemed like he was trying to hone in on her, closing his eyes. Lerner watched as his face squinted in concentration, like he was squeezing out a turd. His kind of demon didn’t really do it like that, though, preferring to excrete through the mouth when necessary, and only every four to five days at that. “She’s a blank. It’s like she’s not even there.”
Lerner could feel his eyes widen, which was his customary expression of surprise. “What do you mean she’s not there? I can see her.”
“I can see her, too,” Duncan admitted. “But I can’t feel her. It’s like she’s hollow, or a dead zone or something.”
“What does that mean?” Lerner asked, and he actually reached over and touched Duncan on the arm, felt the smooth fabric of the suit beneath his fingers. He could tell it was purple even in the low light. Dammit.
“I don’t know,” Duncan admitted. “I’ve never run across that before.”
Lerner watched as the cowboy and the cop started walking away to follow the redhead. What kind of being would fool Duncan? They’d been around the block, hadn’t they? They knew their shit.
Still, the redhead kept walking, and Lerner kept watching her. Duncan too, he saw out of the corner of his eye. Clearly they were onto something here. “Demon hunters,” Lerner said, “and something else. Something that’s got you confused.”
“Yep,” Duncan said. “Let’s get back to the car. See if we can find a detour to the other side of the interstate so we can get a closer look. Maybe it’ll help me figure her out.”
“Yeah, okay,” Lerner said, and they both turned to walk back to the sedan. “I don’t like the sound of this, though. You’re not getting a little addled by being here for so long, are you?”
“Dunno,” Duncan said with a shrug. Taciturn bastard. Lerner cursed him for it as they got in the car.
“I’ve often wondered about the long-term effects of being on earth to our kind—” Lerner started.
“Just drive,” Duncan said.
Didn’t even want to talk about it. Annoying son of a bitch. Lerner put the car in drive and hung a U-turn back toward town.
* * *
Arch wasn’t exactly stomping along, but he could feel the excess vigor in his step. He wasn’t enthused, that was for sure, but he was moving with purpose. Each slap of his shoe against the wet pavement was like a thundering wake-up call. The cool breeze blowing in his face was almost like a reminder that he was heading into the wind—metaphorically speaking. Literally, too.
Which was something he should have been doing before now.
There was a smell in the air, too, like oil on pavement, maybe from the wreckage below. It was strong, and the low hum of activity from the accident was buzzing in his ears. Part of him wanted to feel guilty. The other part already did.
He heard the thump of boots behind him and turned to see Hendricks jogging to catch up. He was passing Starling now, and she barely gave him a glance as he went by to fall into step next to Arch.
“Something on your mind?” Hendricks asked.
Arch could feel the tightness in his arms as he swung them. He was feeling the urge to hit someone, right now. “Just a little upset is all.”
“Not at me, though, right?” Hendricks asked. Arch caught the half-smile.
“Not right now,” Arch said. “Gimme a few minutes, I might come around to you. Your coming to town hasn’t exactly been a harbinger of the best of times for me.” Which was true, Arch reflected, though he wasn’t sure how much he blamed the cowboy for this. It wasn’t like Hendricks had intended to turn his world topsy-turvy. Arch frowned. “Why would it matter if I was mad at you? We have a job to do.”
“I don’t know,” Hendricks said with a shrug. “I don’t like to go into battle with tension between me and a squadmate. Makes things damned uncomfortable.”
Tension wasn’t something Arch paid much attention to, but he felt his face turn sour as he thought of Alison. “Well, do me a favor,” Arch said, “put your big boy pants on and deal with it. We’ve got bigger things to worry about than me hurting your feelings.”
“I’ll be fine,” Hendricks said, and now Arch could hear the stiffness in the cowboy’s voice. “Just trying to resolve any problems before they get serious.” They took a few more paces and hit the thin patch of grass that separated the Old Jackson Highway from the Sinbad’s parking lot. “So, what's in your craw?”
“I’m not really in a mood to be sharing feelings,” Arch said with blistering impatience.
“Not now?” Hendricks asked.
“Probably not ever,” Arch said and had to admit that was honest. Talking feelings was not his way. It was awkward enough on the rare occasions when he did it with Alison.
“Huh,” Hendricks said as they crossed the Sinbad’s wet parking lot. It was like walking in a puddle, and Arch could feel the water splashing into his socks. They were already wet, but this was just making it worse. “Seemed like back there on the bridge you made some kind of fateful decision.”
Arch didn’t give him a searing look but only because he was already focused on other things. “Just decided to start actually doing my job instead of worrying about whether my boss thinks I’m doing my job.”
Hendricks was quiet for a pause, and Arch was happy enough with that. Then the cowboy had to speak again. “Well, okay, then. What are we doing now?”
Arch felt his whole body tense again as he paused next to his Explorer and hit the button to remotely unlock it. “There’s a lead I’ve been thinking about but haven’t followed up yet.”
“No time?” Hendricks asked.
Arch looked back at him evenly, tried to keep from showing any irritation. He wasn’t really irritated at Hendricks, anyway. “No. Just wasn’t sure it was worth following up. Besides, until now it’s not like we’ve had a shortage of demons to chase.” He felt an urge to lean against his car, so he did, and then felt the water droplets resting there soak his shirt. He sighed. “Remember those demons that busted up my apartment?”
“Yeah,” Hendricks said.
“One of them was a woman who I’d arrested before, named Amanda Severson.” He tried to brush the water off his sleeve, but it was already soaked in. “I’ve got a last known address for her, just outside of town a ways. I figure we probably killed off all her roommates, if she had any—”
“But you don’t know for sure,” Hendricks said, and the cowboy was nodding. “Not a bad idea. Especially since we’re out of leads. If nothing else, we might be able to catch a demon and get a line on what’s going on around here.”
“See, that’s what I was wondering,” Arch said, nodding along, starting to feel like this might not be as desperate of an idea as he’d feared, “the demons, they’re social enough that they know what others are up to?”
“Some of them,” Hendricks said, and the cowboy made for the passenger door. “But hey, if nothing else, we’ll punch some more sulfur-stink tickets out of town, and that’s never bad, right?”
“Well, if it doesn’t get us closer to solving this problem, I’m not sure it’s the best use of our time.”
Hendricks seemed to think about that for a minute. “Well, let’s ask—” The cowboy’s head swiveled around, and it took Arch a second to realize he was looking around for someone. Someone with red hair who was nowhere in sight. Arch heard Hendricks swear and ignored it, just like always. What the cowboy said on a regular basis would have gotten Arch’s mo
uth slapped until his jaw was broken when he was a kid. “She does that all the damned time,” Hendricks said.
“Would have been nice to get a little direction from her,” Arch said. “Seems like she knows what’s going on here better than we do.”
Hendricks frowned. “Seems like a lot of people do. Doesn’t that bother you?”
Arch shrugged and headed around the front of the Explorer to the driver’s side. “Could be worse.”
“Oh?” Arch heard Hendricks say as he opened the door and got in the car, careful not to hit the door of the grey sedan parked next to the Explorer. It hadn’t been here when he’d driven up, he was pretty sure of that. “How so?” Hendricks asked.
“We could be as in the dark as my boss,” Arch said. “Or Erin.” Or Alison, he didn’t say. But he thought it.
* * *
Gideon was back in the motel. He was wheezing, lying on the bed, his gut out and heavy on him. It felt like it was squeezing his essence out from the sheer weight his midsection, but it felt like that all the time. The TV was on in the background, where some local weather forecaster was predicting more rain. Gideon thought about the sky on his drive back from Cleveland and didn’t exactly die of shock at that.
The feeling of what had happened to him on the overpass that afternoon was still lingering. He was too exhausted to do anything about it right now—like relive it for pleasure—but it was a kind of euphoric afterglow that he could get used to. His head was filled with lightness, and so was that spot in his chest where he imagined a heart might be if he’d had one.
He was still thinking ahead, though, reaching his feelers out. This feeling wouldn’t last, after all, and he’d need to be on to the next one soon enough. That was a problem, though, because he couldn’t feel the next one anywhere on the horizon. And he was trying. Stretching his mind out, expanding the radius.
There had to be something out there. Anything. A coronary. This was the south; weren’t people fat here? He knew he’d read that somewhere. Someone had to be dying of a heart attack soon.
Depths: Southern Watch #2 Page 12
