Blood Bath, A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy (The Maurin Kincaide Series Book 4)

by Rawlings, Rachel

  After Kellen hijacked my power and forced me to jump to Cash, I knew he could travel through the between too. I'd been avoiding jumps in an effort to stay off Kellen's radar. Aidan would be furious I chanced it twice in one night but he was leaving so I didn't give a shit what he thought. At least that's what I told myself. I managed to get back to my apartment with no ill effects and no sign of Kellen earlier. Getting to Risqué should be easy.

  After driving everywhere I needed to go, being back in the between was a balm to my frayed nerves. Energy seeped into my pores, sinking deeper into tissue, muscle and finally bone. Power I recognized as my own coursed through my veins before pooling in my core. Like cold water pouring into a glass, it rose from the pit of my stomach, behind my ribcage, to the hollow of my throat until it nearly burst from my chest. Holes in my shields were filled. I hadn't known until that moment how off balance I was by shutting myself off from this.

  Even Conry seemed to benefit from being here. Symptoms of dehydration and malnutrition I hadn't noticed before faded away. He needed this as much as I did. Roped muscles filled out his frame while his white coat thickened. Fire flared in his red eyes. He looked like the ferocious beast I first saw crossing to Salem with Arawn last year.

  Feeling better than I had in weeks it took almost no effort to jump to the seedy night club recently purchased by the Council. Two sets of eyes bore down on me again as I stepped through the veil that separated the dark parking lot behind Risqué from the between. I knew they would both be waiting at the back door for me to arrive.

  This time they weren't wearing matching expressions. Aidan's eyes filled with the anger he was trying to hold back. He coiled like a viper ready to strike. So of course I ignored him. I caught the glint in Cash's eyes that was becoming all too familiar as I brushed past him on my way through the door.

  "You're so fucking stubborn," he chuckled behind me.

  I walked down the stairs to the old speak easy part of the club that served as office and conference room, with a pissed off vampire and a werewolf at my back. This should be interesting.

  "I send two of Salem’s finest specimen of men to offer to bring you to me and you choose to travel here alone. Your willfulness is becoming a regular source of amusement for me." Agrona was perfectly draped over the chaise lounge in a cream, off the shoulder fitted top and navy blue sailor pants. The tips of a pair of tan leather heels that probably cost more than my rent peeked out under the hem.

  I stopped comparing my wardrobe to hers awhile ago. She loved designer labels, luxurious fabrics and over spending. I was happy with jeans, boots - preferably Docs - and a vintage band T-shirt. Tonight's choice, The Ramones. It was appropriate since I would probably want to be sedated after this meeting.

  "Happy as I am to entertain you, I get the feeling you wanted to see me for a reason."

  "Straight to the point as always. You're being called up again, Maurin. It seems you are destined to be more than just a liaison."

  "Masarelli hauled me into the station today to wave some pretty gruesome pictures in my face. Started asking questions about rogues. I don't suppose this is related?"

  "Very perceptive." Her gaze slid to Aidan and back to me. "So the detective suspects a wolf?" A hint of the absurdity she felt over that concept was in her voice.

  "I kind of got the impression it was interchangeable for him. Vamp or were, makes no difference to him. He's wanting a crack at this case, Agrona. Five is too many to keep under wraps. Maybe if they weren't found in their own homes... You should have brought me in sooner. What were you planning to do? Clean slate SPTF again? You can't go wiping people's minds whenever you want."

  "Hello, vampire." The attempt at the modern phrase was at odds with her...well everything about her actually. She waved it off. "The detective has put in a formal request for your services. It would seem they are in need of a psychometric." She watched Aidan again, waiting for a reaction.

  His jaw twitched, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "It was not a threat, Agrona. I will make good on my word if you do this."

  I felt my eyes widen. What the hell was he doing? You don't threaten the Council and despite what he said that's exactly what it sounded like.

  Agrona sat up, swinging her legs around to the front of the chaise gracefully. "I have grown weary of this conversation, Aidan. You have nothing to gain and everything to lose should you follow through with your plan. Despite this one blot on your otherwise perfect record you are the best cleaner we have ever had, but you are replaceable. Stay and she is involved, go and she is still involved with no one to protect her. Don't bother protesting, Maurin. I see it forming on your tongue but hear me well on this, you will need someone from my line with you."

  Aidan looked about to explode but he didn't argue or question his queen. Apparently Cash had been here the first time they had this conversation because he looked beyond bored. Whatever was going on was definitely a council matter but it didn't involve the wolves directly and that's all he cared about.

  Kedehern walked through a door hidden in the wall, dabbing a napkin at the corners of his mouth. Apparently he wasn't alone in the secret room. He stood behind his wife, fingers trailing from her shoulder to behind her ear and back down again. "Maurin will meet the detective in the morning and report back to Cash. Aidan will find you once the sun has set. Understood? She will have one of you available to her at all times. Come pet, your dinner is getting cold."

  "She would be safer if you left her out of this." All the venom had left his voice but he couldn't let this go.

  "Would you like to test your tolerance for silver?" Kedehern didn't wait for a response from Aidan. He knew there wouldn't be one. "Perhaps I should pack your mouth full of it to see if you truly are immune."

  From the days of Hippocrates to the early twentieth century, silver leaf was commonly used in wound care. During the Irish Rebellion of 1798 Aidan was seriously injured, resulting in not only silver sutures but silver leaf to fight the infection. He was turned two days later with enough silver in his system to create an immunity in his undeath - something that hasn't happened before or since.

  Agrona stroked Kedehern's forearm, lips curled up in a fiendish, fang exposing smirk. She had an ace up her sleeve and was ready to play it. "Since you're so vehemently opposed to this plan, Aidan, perhaps I should find someone else to take your place. Kellen couldn't join us this evening but he has volunteered his services."

  Aidan didn't flinch, his face remained neutral. He wasn't giving her the reaction she wanted but she knew she'd won. I don't know the history between Aidan and Kellen but I was relieved his hatred for that particular fae outweighed everything else.

  Something about Kellen scared the shit out of me. I was furious with Aidan for trying to keep me out of this, for his distorted sense of honor and need to protect me. He might not think so, but I was more than capable of protecting myself. Still, working with Aidan while I was pissed off at him was better than being forced to have Kellen at my back.

  "What time am I supposed to meet Masarelli?" I heard the beginning of a protest from Aidan and rounded on him. Letting Kedehern pack his mouth full of silver was sounding like a great idea. "I don't need your permission. They asked for a psychometric. Did drinking my blood give you the ability to read objects or people, to follow the memory links?"

  "You let him feed from you?" Cash aimed for cool and uncaring but I caught the disappointment in his eyes.

  "He probably would have died the first time. I was suffering from blood poisoning, the second time. I'd hardly call it feeding. Not that it's any of your fucking business, Cash."

  Another emotion I couldn't place ran across Cash's face. If I didn't know better I would say it was anger, maybe even jealousy over Aidan having a piece of me he never would. I didn't bother thinking about it too long. Cash would be a problem for another day because I wasn't finished with Aidan.

  "What do you care? You're leaving remember?"

  "I care a great
deal more about your safety than you do," he ground out.

  "Oh this is too delicious." Agrona leaned forward, her hands steepled in front of her face. "So he told you about his plan then? The maid holds himself in such high regard he thinks threatening me with accepting offers from other families - offers I know full well he's been entertaining for some time - will save you from being involved. But you don't want a savior do you, Maurin? Aidan doesn't understand that about you."

  "She wants someone standing by her side, not in her way." Everyone turned to gape at Cash. Everyone except me – I wasn’t surprised. He was always right when it came to my feelings. Cash read me like an open book. Aidan acted like I was a Rubic's Cube.

  "We'll have to tune in next time to see what happens in the soap opera that is Maurin's life, my dear. The night is young and your dinner awaits. Meet the detective tomorrow morning, SPTF at eight sharp." He drew Agrona up and into his arms. Before she could object Kedehern covered her mouth with his.

  The moment the metallic tang from the remnants of his dinner hit her taste buds the predator took over. The two withdrew to the hidden room and their donors, leaving us in the uncomfortable wake of that conversation. The click of the door officially signaled the end of the meeting but none of us spoke. The awkward aftermath of Cash's insightful remark was too much for me. I decided to break the silence. By leaving.

  4

  SPTF was at DEFCON one. I walked into a police station overflowing with uniforms. Officers from the Massachusetts State Police mixed with Salem’s patrolmen. SWAT jockeyed for position in the section usually reserved for Masarelli’s team. Concerned citizens gathered where they could, shouting for answers and justice. What the hell was going on?

  Masarelli found me in the sea of people, grabbed my arm and dragged me into his office. His office used to belong to Captain Matthison - before we worked on a case together and the bad guys put him out of commission. He'd unknowingly been given Agrona's blood, resulting in a miraculous recovery but he still hasn't reclaimed his office or position.

  A pang of guilt hit me as I looked at the plants on the desk. Once withered and brown from the neglect of the captain, they thrived under Masarelli’s care. I had hoped Matthison would be back by now but it looked more and more like the medical leave was turning into retirement.

  "Are you listening to me?" Masarelli slammed his hand on the desk.

  "Sorry, what did you say?" I shook my head to clear the thoughts of Matthison and what happened to him on Winter Island.

  "In case you didn't notice the three ringed circus on your way in, I've got men from every fucking division out there. The mayor and governor are breathing down my neck. I've got more brass up my ass than a marching band and nothing to go on. Nothing that will find out who managed to kill seven girls in less than a month and God only knows how many more. The FBI is running it through their computers to see if they get any hits."

  "Seven? I thought you said the body count was five." This was bad, really bad. This was the kind of shit that had people changing laws and taking away rights. There hasn't been a serial killer case involving an Other since the seventies - not publicly anyway. With this many departments and politicians involved there would be no way to keep it out of the media.

  "Try and keep up would you? Two more girls went missing. One from MIT and one from U Mass. Their bodies haven't been found but after the last five it doesn't look good."

  "So why aren't the Boston Police handling it?"

  "Look again." Masarelli spread the blinds for me to peek at the mob gathered in the station.

  "Is that Campus Police out there too? Holy shit, this is a mess." I let out a low whistle. "How do you know the two missing girls are related?"

  "I don't, not officially but my gut is telling me it's connected. I've got a leak, Maurin. It got out we have five dead girls and the mayor called the governor for outside support. The next thing I know my station is a command center. The only people missing are Fish and Game. Though I suspect they'll be called in for the search."

  "Do they know you suspect a rogue?" I had to get in touch with Cash, he was my daytime contact and the Council needed to know Salem was on the brink of martial law.

  "No, I managed to keep that little tidbit quiet." He dropped into the chair behind the desk and leaned back. He was exhausted, this case was getting the better of him.

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "Get me a coffee." He rubbed a calloused hand over his growing stubble.

  "Excuse me? Get your own dammed coffee. I thought you needed a psychometric not a secretary." He had a lot of nerve dragging me down here this early in the morning just to play barista.

  "Go to the Daily Grind and wait for me to call. I don't want them to see you touching the evidence. They’re going over the details for the search one more time before they head out. Once they're gone you can do that thing you do."

  "Why all the secrecy? I used to get paid to do this. Remember?"

  "Used to. Now you're just another Council lackey. They didn't want me to bring you in. I'm a hairs breadth away from losing this case, Maurin." He was laying it all out on the table.

  "So get another psychic. Every department has one. You don't need me. You need a precog." Someone who saw the future would be a hell of a lot more useful to him than someone who saw the past.

  "They're bringing one up from Bristol. He's supposed to be really good but I don't know him. I don't know if I can trust him and he isn't going to get me the stuff I need to catch this sadistic fuck."

  "A precog can find the missing girls." I added, "alive" for emphasis.

  "I want those girls found alive, I do, but really I want the evidence that'll put this guy on death row." The look in his eyes said he would do whatever it took to make that happen.

  "You want a Red Eye?" I decided to give him a break. The mob forming outside his office took the fun out of breaking his balls anyway.

  A bit of the stress weighing him down went away when he realized I was going along with his plan. "Black, four Splendas. I'll call you as soon as this place clears out."

  On the walk to the Daily Grind I called Cash and asked him to meet me. I've only been to the coffee shop once since Mahalia was handed over to the fae after trying to kill me.

  The coven and I didn't see eye to eye on her sentencing. I thought she got off easy and they thought it was my fault they were without a high priestess.

  The last time I was there with my sister, some asshole hexed my coffee. I figured having the alpha with me might deter anyone from doing it again. The Daily Grind had the best coffee in Salem and I was seriously jonesing for their espresso. The closer I got the more I felt like a junkie looking for their next fix. I was leaning against the side of the building anxiously drumming my fingers on my leg when Cash finally got there.

  "You look like you're detoxing. Let's get you inside before your shakes turn into the sweats." He held the door open and gave me a wink.

  Amalie had my order waiting for me. "I saw you outside. I didn't know you were waiting for someone." She gave Cash the once over before throwing me a questioning look.

  I just shook my head. We hadn't talked in a while. I missed her and I was starting to believe what she said about not being involved in Mahalia's plot to get rid of me. Plus she basically came to my rescue the last time I was here, serving me when everyone else wanted to toss me out. I just wasn't ready for a heart to heart, especially not in front of Cash. We'd work out the problems in our friendship. It was on my growing 'problems for another day' list.

  "Why don't you grab a table while I order?" Cash's timing was impeccable. He took in Amalie's broken expression and gave me the stink eye.

  "I need a Red Eye and four Splendas too." I turned to find a seat. I could tell Cash was talking to Amalie about more than how he took his coffee. I sighed. They’re not talking about you. I was getting better at deluding myself. I zig zagged through the tables until I found an empty one by the windows.

  I ope
ned the white paper bag and picked a corner off the warm croissant waiting inside. Flaky, buttery pastry perfection. I washed down the first bite with a swig of the best coffee in town. This time it tasted like espresso, steamed milk and a dash of cinnamon, instead of something scraped off the inside of a chimney flu. I closed my eyes, barely stifling a moan of pleasure.

  "Is that the same face you make when you're whoring yourself out to the Council? How much does it cost to get you on your back?" It was the same asshole as last time. "Waste of a fine piece of ass if you ask me," the guy sitting next to him said. "Fucking dogs, fairies, and corpses? That's what she chose over a coven member? She's just a worthless psychic, not even a precog, just another Council whore. Hope she gets fleas or maybe she'll get a rash from the fairy dust on her p..."

  I flashed through the between, popped up behind him and smashed his face against the table with one hand and vice gripped his balls in the other.

  I tried really hard to let the fact he didn't hex my coffee out-weigh his mouth. I wasn't a whore and normally I wouldn't care what some loser with a limp wand said about me but enough was enough. It was high time somebody taught him a lesson.

  "Marcus, Marcus, did you, did you see that?" the friend stammered.

  "The only person to treat me like a whore was your precious priestess. Call me anything except my given name again and I'll make you a fucking eunuch. You have no idea what I am or what I'm capable of. Do we have an understanding?" When he didn't answer right away I squeezed harder between his legs. Marcus let out a groan and attempted to nod his head in between my hand and the table. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you?"

  "Yeah, fuck," he ground out through clenched teeth.

  "Now say you're sorry." I squeezed again. I practically felt my thumb touching my fingertips through his, well you get the idea. I was giving new meaning to blue balls. If he didn't apologize soon he'd need more than an ice pack down his pants.

  This time he cried out. His friend and several other men in the room winced in sympathy. More than one hand moved into a protective cup in front of their zipper.