Los Angeles

by Tiffany Aaron

  “If there wasn’t a body, how did you find out about the murder? Did you see something?”

  Shaking his head even though she couldn’t see him, Nevan said, “I brought my partner in when Patrick didn’t answer my phone calls or the door when I went to check on him. We couldn’t find anything, so Davidson called in this woman he works with.” He didn’t want to say anything, but he knew he couldn’t hide it from her. “She’s one of you.”

  “One of me? Oh, you mean a fallen angel.” Danielle hummed under her breath for a second. “I guess she could be. I don’t know everyone who lives out there. What was her name?”

  “Cassandra. I didn’t get her last name. She’s blind, which is weird. Can’t your kind heal from just about any kind of injury?”

  “For the most part, yes. Her name doesn’t sound familiar, but while I’m looking to find someone for you to talk to, I’ll see if I can get some information on her as well. She’s psychic?”

  Nevan strolled over to his fridge to check what kind of food he had. “I don’t know. Is it what we call psychic ability or is it because of her being a fallen?”

  “Good question. I’ll have to do some research on this.”

  “I think she knows about me. She said I was touched by the paranormal.”

  Danielle laughed. “You can’t get away from being a sensitive just because you’re uncomfortable with it. Being a fallen, she’d know you had abilities even if she wasn’t blind. You chose to be one before you were born, Nevan. Deal with it and use it.”

  “How soon can you get me those names?” He wasn’t interested in discussing his talents at the moment.

  “I’ll email them to you in the morning.”

  “Thank you, Danielle. I owe you.” He stared at the containers of leftovers, wondering if he had enough energy to heat them up.

  “Just be happy, Nevan. That’s all I want for you.”

  After hanging up, he stuffed his phone back in his pocket then pulled out a Tupperware dish. He checked to make sure it was still good before he popped it in the microwave. While waiting, he leaned against the counter and stared at the floor.

  “What were you into, Patrick? Why couldn’t you have left well enough alone?” Nevan clenched his hands. “Did you want this curse so badly that you would’ve sacrificed for it?”

  Unfortunately, his cousin couldn’t answer him. Nevan’s head shot up when a thought hit him. He could see the dead and spirits caught in the mortal world. Those who were murdered tended to hang around because of the violence committed against them. Yet there hadn’t been anything in Patrick’s house.

  Had Patrick been injured in the house, then taken elsewhere and killed? Was that why his spirit wasn’t there? Or could something else have been done to him? He’d have to wait until he got Danielle’s email before he could proceed. At least Nevan had Davidson to help him find out who had killed Patrick and why.

  Nevan had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t going to be thrilled when he found out the truth. The microwave dinged and he removed his dinner. After grabbing a fork, he wandered into the living room then flopped on the couch.

  There had to be a football game on some channel. He’d watch TV and eat before taking a shower and going to bed. He hoped they didn’t catch another dead body. A good night’s rest would help him focus in the morning.

  * * * *

  Later on that night, shadows crawled across Nevan’s bedroom floor as he tossed and turned under the covers. Voices whispered in his ear, waking him up and keeping him from falling back asleep. After sitting up, he swung his feet over the side of the bed. He braced his elbows on his knees before resting his face in his hands.

  He could still hear words in the silence surrounding him but he didn’t glance around. Spirits gathered as he tried to shake the fog from his mind. Nevan tried to grab some control of his gift. He didn’t want to see any of them. All he wished was to sleep through one night without being awakened by talking and cold air hovering over him.

  Shoving to his feet, Nevan propped his hands on his hips while taking a deep breath. He didn’t look anywhere except the door as he stalked towards it.

  “I’m so fucking tired of all this shit,” he muttered, wandering to the kitchen. He’d left the light over the sink on so he didn’t have to fumble around to grab a glass out of the cupboard. After pouring some milk, he stood at the sink to drink it and stared out of the window into the backyard.

  Once he’d focused his wandering attention on the lawn, his glass dropped into the sink, shattering. He was dimly aware of avoiding the spilt milk and the shards of glass as he raced back to his bedroom where he kept his spare gun in the nightstand drawer. He grabbed it then dashed out the back door.

  Whirling in a circle, he glanced at the house then at the spot where he’d seen the man. Well, he assumed it was a man, though he couldn’t be sure since he was dressed in a white robe with a hood tugged over his face. But there was no one there anymore.

  “Where the hell did he go?” Nevan went inside to find a flashlight then searched every inch of his yard, but found no footprints or evidence anyone except him had been there.

  After returning to the kitchen, he cleaned up the mess before wandering into the living room. Nevan flopped into the chair in the corner, holding his gun in his lap. His back against the wall, he decided to stay up for a while.

  * * * *

  “Damn!” The high priest stalked from one end of the altar room to the other. His rage rolled from him in waves, causing his followers to cringe.

  “We brought you the one you asked for.” The boldest—or most foolish—stated.

  “I know you did, but he was the wrong one.”

  “The wrong one? But he had the blood line you were looking for.” The followers looked at each other.

  “Yes, but he didn’t have the gift. The blood is only useful to me if it carries the gift.” He tossed his hands in the air. “What do we do now? It took me years to find him.”

  “Sir.” One of the quieter members stepped forward.

  “What?” He rounded on him, glaring.

  “There is another of the same blood line in the area. I’ve heard whispers of his uncanny abilities. He might be the one you want.”

  “Find out all you can about him. If he has the gift, our time might be closer than we think.” He motioned for them to leave.

  His followers bowed before slipping away. They separated in the labyrinth outside the altar room. They didn’t know each other and never saw each other’s face. They were believers searching for power.

  The high priest waited until he was alone before stripping out of his robe. He knelt in front of the altar and bowed his head. He started chanting softly, letting the words slide off his tongue. The sound of it grew until it echoed throughout the chamber. He fell into a trance and the purpose behind his plans became clearer the longer he concentrated.

  Chapter Two

  Nevan swore when he saw the name of the expert Danielle had found for him. “I should’ve known,” he said and Tommy looked at him from where he sat at his desk next to Nevan.

  “Known what?”

  “Who the hell is Cassandra Harmen? Why bring her to the house?” Nevan didn’t want to talk about the other thing he’d found out that morning.

  Tommy leaned far enough back in his chair to make it creak, threatening to collapse. “I’ve worked with her on a couple of cold cases that came across my desk. Figured if anyone could give us some leads or even let us know for sure a crime had happened, she could.”

  “The sheriff’s okay with you using a psychic?” He couldn’t help the scepticism colouring his voice, considering how his captain back in Chicago would’ve reacted if he’d broached the subject of a psychic.

  “He never said me I couldn’t do it and trust me, if he was against it, he would’ve let me know.” Tommy twirled a pencil in his fingers. “Plus it’s California, man. You know we’re a little different out here.”

  That’s an understatement. Yawn
ing, Nevan stretched then noticed Tommy studying him. “What?”

  “You look like shit, Largent. Didn’t you sleep last night?” Before Nevan could say anything, Tommy continued, “I’m sorry about your cousin. It sucks knowing something bad went down, but not being able to find out what it was.”

  Nevan pursed his lips then shrugged. “Yeah, I couldn’t get my mind to stop thinking about crap. Having to wait for all the lab results come in is going to drive me crazy.” Biting the bullet, he asked, “Do you think Ms Harmen might know something more?”

  Tommy screwed his face into a thoughtful expression. “She might, though usually she calls me if she gets anything else.”

  “Would you have a problem if I contact her?” Nevan needed to talk to her, but he wasn’t going to step on Tommy’s toes to do it.

  He watched as Tommy grabbed a pad of paper then scribbled something on it, catching the note when Tommy tossed it at him. “Go ahead. She might not answer because she’s working right now.”

  “Where does she work?” Nevan ripped the phone number off the pad before tossing it back to Tommy. He wouldn’t think Cassandra would have to work anywhere. He knew Danielle did because—as she explained it—she had all this knowledge stored up, why not use it?

  “There’s a woman’s shelter downtown. She can give you the address if she wants you to meet her there. Most of the time, she sets up a meeting somewhere else. The women at the shelter don’t like men.” Tommy gave Nevan a knowing look.

  Nevan nodded, showing he understood what Tommy meant. Most of the women who went to shelters were there because of men. They were usually domestic abuse survivors or running from the very people who should be protecting them.

  “I’ll call her and wherever she wants, I’ll go.” Nevan grabbed his phone before standing. “I’m going to the coffee shop on the corner. Do you want anything?”

  Tommy shook his head. “Nah. I need to call the lab about one of our other cases. There might have been a break in it, so when you get back, we’ll have to take off to talk to a witness.”

  “I won’t take long.”

  He left the building to wander down the sidewalk to where the coffee shop was located. To his surprise, there wasn’t a big line, so he got his order right away then sat at one of the tables to call Cassandra.

  “Hello?”

  “Ms Harmen, this is Detective Nevan Largent. We met last night under unfortunate circumstances.”

  Cassandra hummed for a second. “Right. You’re the one from Chicago who has the gift.”

  Nevan glanced around, making sure there wasn’t anyone close to him. “And you’re a fallen angel. I didn’t know you could go blind.”

  Stunned silence filled the connection before Cassandra cleared her throat. “How did you know?”

  “I have the gift, remember? Also, I’ve dealt with your kind while I was in Chicago,” he admitted.

  “My kind?” Cassandra sounded rather put out by that.

  Nevan gritted his teeth, but he realised he could’ve stated things a little more diplomatically. “Fallen angels and Enforcers. Is that what you are?”

  “Yes to both. You were in Chicago.” Cassandra stopped for a minute then said, “I’m working right now. Can we meet somewhere and you can ask me what you want to know?”

  “Fine with me. Where and when?” He didn’t have a problem going wherever she wanted him to go. It was important for figuring out what happened to Patrick and to find out more about druids.

  He could hear her breathing on the other end of the line while she seemed to be thinking about where to meet. Finally, she said, “As much as I hate this, I’m going to ask you to meet me at my house. Around six?”

  “I can do that.”

  “Do you need my address?”

  He chuckled. “I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I couldn’t get it.”

  Her laughter was bright and he tried not to think about how his body reacted to the sound. Shit! He didn’t want to be attracted to the fallen angel. Thinking about wrinkly old men parading around in Speedos helped calm his cock down.

  “That’s true, Detective Largent. Well, I need to get going. I’ll see you at six.” She hung up before he could say anything.

  “Goodbye, Ms Harmen,” he muttered then dropped his phone in his pocket. After scooping up his coffee, he got a refill before heading back to the station.

  Tommy was waiting for him and they went out to talk to one of the witnesses for a different murder case.

  * * * *

  At six on the dot, he knocked on Cassandra’s door. He heard a bark come from inside the house. Nevan stared at the bottle of wine in his hand and frowned. Maybe bringing wine wasn’t a good idea. What if she didn’t drink? Or what if she didn’t like merlot?

  Silently slapping himself in the forehead, he realised he was over-thinking. If Cassandra didn’t like wine or merlot, she’d tell him and they could drink water for all he cared.

  The dog barked again, and he heard her admonish him. “Kaiser, be quiet.”

  When she opened the door, he smiled. “Hello, Ms Harmen.”

  “You might as well call me Cassandra, Detective Largent. Please come in.” She stepped back then motioned him in.

  Her Seeing Eye dog sat just inside the foyer, eyeing him suspiciously. He wasn’t wearing a harness, which would usually mean he wasn’t working, but Nevan didn’t want to assume.

  “I’ve never seen a Rhodesian Ridgeback as a Seeing Eye dog.”

  Her movements were confident as she strolled across the foyer to where the dog sat. Resting her hand on his head, Cassandra nodded. “I know, but Kaiser is a one in a million dog and he was a perfect fit for me when I was looking for a new guide.”

  “May I pet him?” He approached but not too close. Kaiser might have been an unlikely guide dog, but he was a good guard and protective of a mistress who couldn’t see.

  “Certainly. Give me your hand.” She held out hers.

  He studied her elegant fingers before he entwined his with hers. Cassandra brought him up to Kaiser then kept him still while the dog sniffed him. Nevan glanced over at Cassandra to see her staring at him.

  Bright hazel eyes seemed to be looking as deep into his soul as she could get, yet he knew she couldn’t see anything. Kaiser licked his hand and she let him go.

  “You see spirits all over the place, Nevan?” She took the wine he held before turning to walk down the hallway towards what he assumed was the kitchen.

  “Yes.” He didn’t want to talk about his gift, but he knew if she were going to give him information, there would be an exchange. “I guess I was always able to see them.”

  Nodding, she gestured in the direction of the stool by the island. After sitting, he watched as she opened the bottle then poured some into two glasses. While she kept one, she handed one to him. The way she finished cutting up vegetables before tossing them on a cookie sheet impressed him.

  “When did you lose your eyesight?” He took a sip, tasting the merlot and deciding it was passable. Of course, what else did he expect from a ten dollar bottle of wine.

  Her light brown curly hair came right to her shoulders, but she had it caught up in a ponytail. The faded jeans she wore hugged her hips and ass in such a way that he couldn’t help but stare at them. She wasn’t skinny or even slender in the way present day media said women should be—Cassandra carried an extra pound or two, but it looked good on her.

  Nevan enjoyed watching her move around the kitchen and it was obvious she’d lived there long enough to get very familiar with the place. She set the timer on the oven before joining him at the island.

  “In the seventeen hundreds, I was involved in a carriage accident in England. It was a head injury, but I survived except for my eyesight.” Cassandra touched her temple where he saw a small white scar.

  “I believed fallen could recover from anything short of a killing wound, even during less-modern times.” Nevan started to put his hand on her arm then stopped. Touching her witho
ut warning would upset her, and he wasn’t interested in that.

  She covered his hand with hers like she knew what he had been about to do. “I assumed that as well, but it seems God still had some secrets he wasn’t willing to tell us, or he had his own reasons for me being blind.”

  Tilting his head, Nevan stared at her. “Do you seriously believe God chose to keep you blind instead of letting you heal like normal?”

  Cassandra shrugged. “It’s the one thing that makes sense to me, but I’ve had three hundred years to get used to the idea. I had to learn how to deal with losing my eyesight. It was hard at first.”

  “I bet it was,” Nevan agreed.

  “May I touch your face?”

  Her question surprised him and he nodded.

  “If you’re nodding, I can’t see you,” she reminded him.

  Chuckling, he lifted her hand to his cheek. “Go ahead. Can you see anything with your powers?”

  He shut his eyes as she ghosted her fingers over his face, knowing she was learning what he looked like the best way she could.

  “Aside from the visions I get, I sense emotions and presences. I can read thoughts like most fallen, but that’s one thing I try not to do.” Cassandra dropped her hands to the counter. She took a sip of wine before asking, “What made you decide to become a cop?”

  “Hmm…I wanted to help people and I don’t like fire, so I figured being a cop would be a great way to do it, plus my father and grandfather were. It’s a family tradition.”

  “Much like what I do is a family tradition. In a way.” Smiling, she stood as the timer went off.

  “Can I help? And just so you know, I’m offering because my mother raised me to be a gentleman, not because I think you can’t do it yourself.”

  “You can pour us both some more wine then set the table for me. Once I dish out the food, I’ll let Kaiser outside to run around for a little bit while we eat.” She pointed to the cupboard and the drawer.

  Nevan did as Cassandra asked him. Eventually, they sat at her table in the dining room. He watched while she ate, so delicate and careful. She didn’t drop any food or spill any wine the entire time.