by Jasmine Walt
“Yeah. They do.”
“Imagine the good-cop, bad-cop they could pull. Though I’m sure you already have.” She wiggles her eyebrows and we both laugh. She turns her phone on silent and tosses it back in her purse. After that, she relaxes again, and we continue to talk and laugh throughout dinner.
Her phone has been blowing up, quietly vibrating, and she ignores it until we get to the theater. Standing in line with me for popcorn, she huffs and digs it out of her purse.
“I’ll be right back,” she tells me, and practically stomps off. The line is moving slow, and though it’s loud in here, I catch a few words of Gemma’s conversation by reading her lips. She’s telling whoever is on the phone “no” over and over, and says “because she’s a decent person” more than once. Before she hangs up, she tells the person on the phone “then you do it” and closes her eyes, slowly letting out a breath.
I turn away when she comes back, not letting her know I was listening.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she says, waving her hand in the air. “It’s my boss. She wants me to pick up more shifts even though I’m maxed out on overtime.”
“There’s a shortage of nurses right now, isn’t there?”
“Yep. I’m seriously considering going back to school for something else.” She pushes her hair back and looks down. “I’ve always loved interior design. You said you just moved into a big old house. That’s like my dream to decorate.”
Did I tell her I moved into a “big old house?” My brain has been a bit fried and I can’t be sure. I might have mentioned moving, but I don’t think I’d ever refer to my house as “big.” That’s too braggy for me, and I can’t stand people who try to show off their material wealth like that.
“Yeah,” I say, and shuffle forward. “I did.”
“When did you move in?”
The air between us shifts, and luckily the woman ahead of us gets out of line and we’re next to order. I get a large popcorn and a Coke, and even though I’m full from dinner, keep stuffing my mouth full so Gemma won’t ask me any more questions. I’m new at this whole having a female friend thing, and I don’t know how to properly handle this. Can I just tell her to mind her own business? No, that’s rude and obvious.
If the house wasn’t harboring so many secrets, I’d have no issue talking about it. And some people, like Richard, really are interested in structures rich in history.
“Let’s talk about magic,” she says once we’re in our seats and waiting for the movie to start. She just checked her phone again and shook her head at whatever she read.
“What about it?”
“You’ve been into it, right? I know you said you’re a skeptic, but come on. It’s not like I’m going to judge you.”
“I really haven’t, and I’m still not sure it’s real.”
She frowns. “There’s nothing wrong with believing in it.”
“Oh, I know. To each their own.” I don’t want to insult my only real friend, but something isn’t sitting right with me. Maybe she’s not as good of a friend as I thought, and I know I have to look into this objectively. Though for now, there’s nothing I can do. I have to keep up the act that I don’t suspect anything. “And I do believe in it, just not as widely as you, I guess.”
She laughs. “I have no idea what you mean by that.”
Sticking my hand into the bowl of buttery popcorn, I laugh too. “I mean, I don’t think just anyone can learn how to do magic or go to Lyra’s store and get the right ingredients for a spell. If magic were real, it would be more calculated than that, right? Besides, if it were so easy, everyone would do it.” I smile, then stick the popcorn in my mouth to buy me a bit more time. I stand by my answer, though. Not just anyone off the street can do magic. Any old words strung together and said while burning herbs haphazardly thrown together won’t do shit.
“Yeah, I suppose so too. Though I think people can be taught.” Her hand goes to her purse, and I can see the glowing screen of her phone from within. “So trying magic is really something new for you?”
“I can’t really say I’ve tried it. Just started not being as skeptical as before.” I look at her hand and she drops the phone. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she says quickly. “It’s someone I work with, begging me to come in and fill in a shift tonight.”
“Oh, okay.” I don’t believe her, and that bad feeling I get in my gut starts to grow tense.
“So, this party at your neighbor’s house,” she says, changing the subject. “You said the kid was trying to get pictures of you, right?”
“Yeah. Little perv.” I internally cringe as the words come off my tongue. Jared is a pain in the ass, but he doesn’t deserve any shit for a crime he didn’t commit.
“I think you should dress all sexy, show off those tits you’re always hiding, and then have your boyfriends show up and scare the piss out of the kid.”
I laugh. “That might be one way to deal with him.”
“So, your boyfriends,” she goes on, voice changing pitch. “Do they live with you?”
“When they’re not traveling for work, yeah.”
“Do they travel a lot?”
“Depends on their assignment,” I say, and thank the fucking stars, the commercials start. We turn our attention to the screen, and the tension leaves me once the movie starts. Gemma makes hilariously inappropriate comments about Aidan Shepherd throughout the movie, making me laugh even more.
“I had a nice time tonight,” Gemma says after the movie is over and we’re walking together into the parking lot. “Do you want to get drinks or anything?”
“Sounds fun, but I’m beat tonight. Can I take a rain check?”
She elbows me and giggles. “You want to get home to those hot boyfriends, don’t you?”
“I’d be lying if I said no.”
“Seriously, it is not fair.”
I laugh and pull my keys from my purse, looking around the parking lot. Surveying my surroundings and assuming everyone is up to no good is a habit, and one that more people should adopt.
“Where are you parked?” I ask Gemma, wanting to make sure she gets to her car safely.
“Right there.” She motions to a silver Honda with a bumper sticker that says “Wiccan and proud” in between two pentagrams. “See you Monday.”
I watch her get in her car, then slide into the driver’s seat of my Charger and get my phone out of my purse, tapping the screen to check for calls.
There are seven, and they’re all from Jacques. My heart races as I call him back. The phone rings. And rings. And rings.
Finally, he answers.
“Ace?” he asks, always questioning if it’s really me calling.
“Yes, is everything okay?”
“It is now.”
“But it wasn’t?” I rush out.
“There was someone at the house.”
21
I put my car in park and kill the engine, getting out and racing up the steps. Hasan is standing on the porch with the concealment amulet around his neck and the spear the ghoul stabbed Jacques with in one hand. I do a double take, seeing him without wings for the first time. He’s tall and muscular, with a strong, masculine face and battle scars showcasing his time spent in battle.
Even without the wings, he’s intimidating.
“Is everyone okay?” I ask, taking the steps two at a time. Hasan hooks his arm around me, lifting me up the last step. He moves in front of me, ready to guard and protect me if need be.
“Yes,” he says, not taking his eyes off the yard. “You should get inside, Ace.”
The porch lights illuminate the tattoos of his wings on his back. “No way. I’m not going to leave you out here alone. What if whoever was here is still out there.”
He turns his head slightly and I see his eyes glimmer. “I hope they are. Get inside. We think they were looking for you.”
“Fine, but only to get my gun.” I step for
ward and put my hand on his shoulder, feeling my heart lurch. “Be careful.”
He reaches up, putting his hand over mine. “I will.”
I go inside, finding the others in the living room. They appear more relaxed, and the TV is turned on but muted to give the illusion someone is home.
“Hey,” Jacques says as soon as he sees me. The gauze is off his chest, and there’s only a small scar where the wound was. My heart does a weird skip-a-beat thing when our eyes meet. “How was the movie?”
“It was good. You all are okay? Did anyone see you?”
“Breathe, Ace,” Thomas says, moving away from the window. He puts his hands on my shoulders and leads me to the couch. “You did a good job covering the windows in the library, so I don’t think so.”
“So what happened?”
“We heard someone at the door as soon as we woke up,” Thomas starts. “At first we thought it was someone trying to break in, but then they started walking around the house, looking in the windows. We could see them, but they couldn’t see us in the dark.”
“Right. You guys have night vision. So they just looked around?”
“One looked in the house and the other went to the pile of ashes in the front yard.”
“The ghoul ashes.”
Thomas nods and flicks his eyes to Gilbert. “Hasan was about ready to rip their heads off, but we recognized them as human.”
“Specifically, as a human we saw last night,” Gilbert finishes.
“Last night?”
“We saw your friend—the one you went to the movie with today—at the park last night,” Thomas goes on.
“Yeah, but she was with me.”
Gil shakes his head. “We didn’t see her. It was the older woman who was with her last night.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Gil sits next to me. “And last night, you said you thought she looked at us and knew we weren’t human.”
“Right. And she did.” Anxiety builds in my chest and I look up at Jacques, needing him to say something wise and comforting right about now. “Which seems even more likely now since she fucking showed up at my house.”
“Which is another reason we stayed out of sight. If she was looking for something paranormal, she didn’t find it.”
“How did you get her to leave?”
“We turned on a light,” Thomas says with a smirk. “Easy but effective.”
I run my hands through my hair, mind racing. “So she comes here, not thinking anyone was home,” I think out loud. “She has to be looking for you guys, trying to figure out what you are.”
“Whatever she was doing, she didn’t want to get caught.” Gil puts his hands on my shoulders, massaging my muscles. “She drove away fast once the lights turned on.”
“I should look around the house. If she left in a hurry, she might have left something behind.”
“I’ll go with you,” Jacques offers. “In case something is out there.”
Thomas picks up the other concealment amulet. “You should wear this. If they’re looking for monsters, they’ll have to try harder.”
Jacques takes the amulet and slips it over his head. His wings glow blue for a split second and then disappear. I haven’t seen him without wings, and the sight of him looking human makes me feel like I’m looking into my dream again, and we’re about ready to go out and have a normal evening together without worrying about people spying and demons attacking. He looks behind him, flexing his shoulders.
“You did an excellent job on the spell, Ace.”
“Thanks. I still need to make two more. I’ll pick up more crystals tomorrow.” I push up off the couch and make it a few feet before my phone rings. It’s work.
“Dammit,” I grumble, and hurry to get my phone from my purse. “Bisset,” I answer.
“Hey, Ace,” Officer Nick Beasley says. “I got something for you.”
“Another body?”
“Even better. Your killer attacked a girl, and she got away.”
“I was going to my car for my break,” Anna Webber, the most recent victim, says. She’s sitting in the back of an ambulance, blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Physically, she’s fine, having escaped with a few scratches and bruises. “He was crouching down behind it and jumped me before I knew what was happening. Once he grabbed me, I went into autopilot or something.” Her eyes, which are heavily lined in black, fill with tears. “My dad’s a Marine and taught me martial arts as soon as I could walk.”
“Did you hurt him?” I ask. “Anything significant that might make him seek medical attention?”
“I twisted his arm, but I don’t think it broke. I kneed him in the dick and that’s how I was able to get away.”
“Do you take your breaks around the same time every night?”
“Yeah. Whenever I’m working that shift.”
“And you usually go to your car?”
She nods, black hair falling into her face. If you were going on stereotypes, Anna fits what one might paint a modern-day witch to look like. “Yeah. It’s quiet out there.”
“You said you didn’t see his face since he was wearing a mask, but is there anything else you remember that could help us identify him?”
She closes her eyes. “He’s white, and didn’t feel much taller than me. He smelled like cigarettes. Sorry I can’t help more.”
“That’s a big help right there.”
“There’s one more thing,” she says, hands trembling. “He called me a sinner.”
“Do you identify as a Wiccan?”
She opens her eyes. “I consider myself more Pagan.”
“Are you open about it?”
Reaching inside the blanket, she pulls out a necklace with a large triple moon symbol engraved on a silver circle. “Yeah.”
I question her a while more, then look around the scene of the attack. The killer watched her long enough to learn her patterns, to know she comes out here alone at night. I find cigarette butts on the parking lot near a dumpster. Bagging them for evidence, I’m willing to bet the killer stood here waiting, lighting up one after another to kill the time.
I have my team go around the area, checking for surveillance footage from nearby businesses to this minimart. I go back to the station and spend a few hours at my desk, trying to see if there are any connections between Lily, Josh, and Anna that could let me know how the killer is picking his victims. He knew they were all Wiccan or Pagan, and went after them when he knew they’d be alone.
His first murder went according to plan. He wasn’t able to stage the second, and his third got away. If he feels like he has to complete a ritual or is doing God’s work by ridding the world of sinners, he’s feeling pretty desperate right now and will strike again.
It’s nearly dawn by the time I get back to the house. Nothing eventful happened while I was away, thankfully, and Jacques said he walked around the house looking for anything out of the ordinary, and didn’t find anything.
“I should take a look too,” I tell him. “I’m a detective, after all.”
“You’re a tired detective,” Jacques reminds me. “You need to sleep while we’re still here and you’re protected.”
“I know, and you’re right. But it bugs me to leave things unsettled like this.”
“It’s not unsettled. We’re here.”
His words bring comfort, and I go upstairs, strip out of my clothes, and brush my teeth. I lazily remove the makeup I put on, reminded of why I don’t usually wear it, and then fall into bed. Jac comes in, and he’s wearing the amulet again. He gets in bed with me, wrapping me in his embrace. It’s easier to cuddle without the wings, and I’m sure it’s way more comfortable without them.
“I moved the runes to the basement.” Jacques brushes my hair over my shoulder. “Just in case someone comes around again.”
“Thanks. It’s safer down there.”
“It is. Get some sleep now, Ace.”
“Night, Jac. I love you.”
22
It’s my weekend off, and technically, I don’t have to be at the office. But between Anna getting attacked last night and Gemma’s friend creeping around the house, I can’t help myself.
I get to work and spend a few hours working on my case. I order takeout, and as I’m eating, my mind drifts to the bloody basement and the cryptic warning of the dark ones looking for me that amounted to nothing. It was all said and done purely to get a reaction out of me, and something about that still doesn’t sit right with me.
The house was a rental property, and had been vacant for quite some time. It was in poor condition before someone threw animal blood all over the walls. Why was Mrs. Green there so late at night?
I bring my container of fried rice with me as I search through the files of that case, finding Mrs. Green’s info. I quickly finish my food and take off, driving across town to Mrs. Green’s house.
The door opens just a second after I knock. An older lady with light pink hair peers out at me through a screen door, looking like she’s ready to lay into me for going door-to-door selling things and interrupting Judge Judy.
“Hi, Mrs. Green. My name is Ace Bisset and I’m a detective with the Philadelphia Police Department.” I hold up my badge for her to see. She looks at the badge and then at my face. She’s seen me before, but doesn’t seem to recognize me at all.
“Oh, hello.” A cat winds around her ankles. I was right about her being a crazy cat lady at least.
“I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your property on Fifth Street.”
“Did you find the hooligans responsible for the prank?”
“Not yet, but if I can ask you a few questions, it could help.”
“Then of course.” She shoots back the lock on the screen door and pushes it open. The hinges creak and another cat jumps off a side table, running out of sight.
“On your original statement, you said the house has been empty for several months.”
