Whispering Shadows (Abyss of Shadows Book 2)

by Rain Oxford

  Logan smirked.

  “Damn,” Cindy commented. “If I ever move, I’m calling you.”

  “Why is that everyone’s first reaction to a vampire’s strength?”

  “That wasn’t my first response,” Logan argued.

  “No, you’re picturing me naked.”

  “It would help tremendously if I had seen you naked.”

  “It looks like that’s not going to happen for a while.”

  Cindy clapped her hands loudly. “Focus. By the time you find the body, thrall the right authorities, and study her, Meredith will probably be dead.”

  “I’ll search her house.”

  “Did you find any evidence of magic at Meredith’s house?”

  “Not that wasn’t Lilly’s.”

  “Magic like that is messy. If it’s a wizard, he or she is balancing it out with something. You’ll be looking for someone who saves lives daily. If it’s a witch, he or she is getting a lot of backlash. You’ll be looking for someone who has a lot of protection magic and probably a death wish of their own.”

  “Someone with nothing to lose.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Maybe it’s not magic. There are magical creatures all over the world that get away with this kind of thing because humans don’t want to believe they exist. Do any of them specifically suck the entrails out of their prey?”

  “Not that I know of, but I’m not an expert on the matter.”

  “I’m going to call some of my contacts,” Logan said. “I’ll have them on the lookout for mummified bodies and monsters that could do such a thing. In the meantime, I’ll get you a flight and have a rental waiting for you.”

  Chapter 3

  Cindy and I browsed the internet for creatures that could mummify people while Logan made his phone calls and the boys played with Cindy’s cat. I wasn’t worried about the cat’s wellbeing; my boys knew how to treat a lady.

  Logan arranged a flight for Deimos and me and I insisted on driving myself. However, before I could pull out of the driveway, Logan knocked on my window and held up his hand in a gesture for me to wait. I rolled my eyes and opened the window, but he was still on the phone with someone. When he hung up, he said. “There’s been a change of plans.”

  “Lilly got something?”

  “No. Another mummified body has been found in Sedona. We’re going to go check it out.”

  “Are we? Maybe I’d rather go to Louisiana.” That was the problem with us. He needed a woman who would submit to him and I needed no one. If I did end up with someone, he or she would have to be strong enough to challenge me, while also being able to admit when he or she was wrong. Although I was okay with butting heads in a relationship, there had to be enough mutual respect, common interests, and attraction to make it worth the work.

  “If you insist on going to Louisiana, I will not argue, but we work well together.” I opened my mouth to tell him I would still go to Louisiana, but he continued. “Furthermore, without you, I’m afraid this case is so boring that I might just go home.”

  “Way to put me on the spot.”

  “That was my intention, Ms. Ares. I would prefer to be hunting for rare books and artifacts as much as you would rather be serving drinks in your bar, but we both care enough about Lilly that we don’t want to see her become an orphan. As much as I believe that would be better for her, I’m inclined to bet on the devil you know.”

  “I guess we’re going to Arizona, then.”

  He smirked.

  “And if you refer to my job as ‘serving drinks’ again, I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

  I left my Thunderbird with Cindy and gave her the key in case she wanted to take it for a joyride. I owed that to her since it was taking up her driveway. Logan drove us to the small airport. There was an office building, which we didn’t go inside of, five massive hangers, and two runways. Logan led us to a white plane with a dove design on the side of it that was sitting on the runway. There was a set of steps and a man in a suit standing next to it.

  “That’s not for us, is it?” I asked.

  “Why? Do you have a problem with planes, Ms. Ares?”

  “No, it’s just fancier than I’m used to.”

  “We don’t have time to waste on driving.” Deimos, Phobos, and I entered the plane while Logan spoke with the flight attendant for a few minutes. I could hear that he was talking, but not what he was saying.

  The inside of the plane was pretty simple with two seats in the back and two in the front, where the pilot controls were. Deimos and Phobos sat on the floor and looked to me for guidance. They hadn’t been in a plane before and I wasn’t sure how they were going to handle it.

  A few minutes later, Logan sat next to me as the pilot got in his seat and the assistant closed the door. “We’ll be ready in five minutes,” the pilot said, checking his settings.

  Ten minutes later, we were in the air. Deimos and Phobos took it well, and I settled in for a long flight.

  “What do you want to talk about?” he asked.

  We had to censure what we said because of the two humans, so we couldn’t talk about the case, our jobs, or our lives. This should have made the silence awkward. Instead, it was comfortable. “We don’t have to talk.”

  He smiled.

  The flight was six hours long and we did very little talking during it. I expected to feel the usual sexual tension between us, but we were content. For some reason, the fact that we were going to check out a mummified corpse sucked all the passion out of the room.

  * * *

  There was a car waiting for us when we arrived in Sedona. Considering it was two in the morning, I was impressed. Logan knew how to travel at the drop of a hat. Then again, the car was a Jeep.

  Unfortunately, pain throbbed in my head the minute the plane set down. The sinister sound was vivid enough that I missed Logan talking at first. “Rory!” he said loudly.

  “What?” I tried to sound like I had been daydreaming, but the pain made my voice tight. I wasn’t used to headaches.

  “You’re hearing the voices again, aren’t you?”

  “They’re more like whispers.”

  “When did they start?”

  “Three months ago. Right after we defeated Marluk. It started so softly that I barely noticed it, and it only came a few minutes a day. It got louder slowly. The only ones I’ve told about it are Brandy and the boys. I hoped it would go away.”

  “But it’s getting worse?”

  “It’s coming with headaches now. In the last week, it got loud enough to be a distraction and it’s lasting for longer and longer.”

  “Is it at a certain time or place?”

  “No. Sometimes, it’ll stop if I walk out of a room, but what places trigger it is unpredictable.” Phobos whined and put his paw on my shoulder.

  “I get the feeling he’s saying to tell me the rest of it,” Logan said.

  “You’re starting to understand them.”

  “Will you tell me?”

  “It’s difficult to explain. A few times, while I was awake, I would suddenly be somewhere else… like I’m dreaming. I would see someone I’ve never met before. I’d be hunting them.”

  “For food?”

  “No, I don’t think so. In this weird dream, despite never having met the people before, I feel an overwhelming urge to kill them.” After ten minutes, the headache and whispers faded.

  * * *

  We made it to the man’s home twenty minutes later and I gaped. “I could see why someone would want to kill him,” I said.

  He frowned at the house. “Why’s that?”

  “He’s living in a mansion.” It was only two stories tall, but the estate was spread wide. There were scenic red rock mountains in the background.

  “So?”

  “It doesn’t matter how nice a guy you are, if you have something worth having, someone else wants it. We need to be looking at people who stand to gain from his death.”

  “Like his children.”


  “Or his wife.”

  We went to the front door, which was wood and extravagant. Beside the door were potted desert flowers. Phobos sniffed a flowering cactus. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, buddy,” Logan cautioned before ringing the bell. A few minutes later, a middle-aged man in a suit answered.

  He had short black hair and dark green eyes. His skin was pasty, except for his eyes, which were puffy. His suit fit him badly, suggesting that he’d recently lost weight. I noted his submissive posture and smelled the misery he felt.

  “Can I help you?” he asked. Then he glanced at the dogs and his posture stiffened.

  Logan held up his FBI badge. It wasn’t real, but it was a good enough fake that it worked on the police and citizens of Lilly’s town when we needed answers. “I am Logan Wayne, and this is Ms. Ares. We need to ask you a few questions regarding the death of Don Jerket.”

  Having not heard the name of the deceased, I snorted, but covered it with a cough. When they both looked at me, I figured I hadn’t disguised it well enough. “Sorry. Desert allergies. Do you know any good allergy meds for that?” I asked. The man shook his head. “You don’t get allergies?”

  “No.”

  “That must be nice. Who are you?”

  “I’m Ian Wolf, the butler and Don’s personal assistant. You do realize it’s three in the morning, right?”

  “I realized it took you very little time to answer the door and you’re fully clothed. People sometimes sleep in their clothes while under stress, but yours aren’t wrinkled. You’re even wearing shoes. I expect you were up waiting by the phone for answers on Mr. Jerket’s death.” His eyes widened. “Then there’s the fact that your eyes are bloodshot and puffy, you have tissues stuffed in your pocket, and your nose is clogged. That could mean you were ill, but I know you’re not, and it could mean you have allergies, which you just told me you don’t. So, can you tell me why you’re up at three in the morning, crying over his death?”

  Ian sputtered. “He was my friend.”

  I smelled a lot more, but there were better ways to get answers than to call him out. “Then will you let us in so that we can find out what exactly happened to him?”

  “I already talked to the cops.”

  “The cops handle local issues, Mr. Wolf. We handle national issues.”

  Ian’s puffy eyes widened. “You think this is bigger than Sedona?”

  “Yes.”

  Ian moved out of the way and we entered the mansion. The foyer was the size of a decent living room. The floor was white marble and the walls were white painted stone with gold accents. A crystal chandelier added unneeded bling.

  Across from us was a massive winding staircase. To my right was a doorway into a grand living room, while a doorway to my left led to a home office. We entered the living room, which consisted of massive windows, a fireplace with shelves built into the tan walls, stone floors, and a glass coffee table, and black leather couches.

  Logan and I sat on the couch and the boys looked at me for orders. “Relax. We’re going to talk first,” I said. The boys grumbled and sat on the floor on either end of the coffee table.

  “Can I get you some tea or coffee?” Ian asked.

  “No, thank you,” Logan said, before looking at me. “Did you want a drink while he’s offering?” he asked. Like it was an inside joke, I knew he was referring to blood.

  “I’m good, thank you. Did anything strange happen to Mr. Jerket before his death?”

  “How so?”

  “Were there any prior attempts on his life that you know of? Did he act afraid or suspicious? To his or your knowledge, was there anyone out to get him? Had he wronged anyone or met anyone unusual.”

  Ian kept shaking his head until Logan stopped asking his questions. “None of that. You might ask his wife, though.”

  “I take it his wife isn’t here?”

  “She is; she’s in bed.” He gestured to a picture on the table and I checked it out. It showed a man and woman on a boathouse. The woman looked right at home in the life of luxury. She had long, curly blond hair, bright blue eyes, and flawless skin. Her blue dress was rich while not being out of place, and her gold and diamond jewelry verged on being excessive. The man wasn’t bad looking, but his skin was darkly tanned and his smile looked forced. What was unsettling, however, was that I’d seen him before.

  Logan looked at me, obviously detecting that something was wrong. I shook my head. “She’s gorgeous and she looks half his age.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Ian?” I asked gently. Because of my tone, he looked at me. The instant his eyes met mine, I was ready; I let my thrall grasp his mind and felt his thoughts slow. “We’re professionals, so you can trust us. No questions we ask you are strange and we won’t judge you for anything you do or say.”

  I released his mind and he blinked a couple of times. “What? Sorry, I spaced out there.”

  Interesting. That was usually a sign of resistance. “How long has Don been married?”

  “Six years.”

  “Was he born rich?”

  “No.”

  “Was he married before or after he became rich?”

  “At the same time.”

  “Oh, so she was rich?”

  “No. He won the lottery and married her immediately.”

  “Would you say they have a happy marriage?”

  He hesitated. I was good at thralling, better than most of my kind, even. Humans could sometimes resist me if they feared for their lives. I didn’t smell any paranormal blood in him, but there was a good chance he was a descendant of one.

  “Mr. Wolf, did Mrs. Jerket marry Don for his money?” Logan asked brashly.

  “Yes,” Ian admitted easily.

  “Did Don treat her well?” I asked.

  Again, he hesitated.

  “I see,” I continued when he opened his mouth to lie. “How long were you and Don friends before he married her?”

  “We grew up together. We were neighbors from the moment we were born.”

  “And was Don having an affair with anyone aside from you?” I asked.

  He shook his head and then stopped himself. “Wait, what?”

  “Aside from you,” I said slowly, “was he having an affair with another person?”

  “I… he wasn’t… I mean…”

  “Your eyes have darted to his picture every minute since we sat down.” There were a dozen different tells, but I wanted to hurry the conversation along. “Did his wife know about you two sleeping together?”

  “No!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “He couldn’t…”

  “We don’t want your life story, Ian, we just want to know if someone had a reason to kill him.”

  “We were happy as kids. When we graduated high school, we moved in together and tried to make a go of it, but he was too afraid to come out. We went to college and were starving. His family wanted to support him financially. He just couldn’t stand them because they wouldn’t accept him. If they found out, they probably would have killed him. Then… six years ago, he acted strange one day when I came home from work. He was super depressed and hated his job. I was afraid he was suicidal. He left the house without a word. The next day, his mother, father, and two brothers all died in a car accident. The day after that, he won the lottery. The day after that, he married Susan. I’d never met her before. He told me he couldn’t be with me, that he was straight, and that he was going to start a family. I couldn’t afford to keep the apartment myself, so he hired me.”

  “That sounds like a no-win situation for you.”

  “I hated it. I tried to get other jobs and leave, but he was sabotaging my shot. He said he needed me— as a friend. It was killing me every day. So, yeah, if anyone had anything to gain from his death, it was me.” Then he started crying. Although I did smell guilt on him, I didn’t peg him as a murderer.

  “Did you wish for his death?”

  “So
metimes.”

  “And you hated yourself for it?”

  He nodded. “His wishes all came true, and when I saw him dead in his reading chair, I thought mine had as well. I don’t know why it happened. He wronged me, he wronged Susan, and he wronged himself, but he was a good man.”

  Deimos lifted his head off his paws and sniffed the air. Logan, too, looked hyper-focused on something in the distance. “Are you and Mrs. Jerket the only ones in the house?”

  “Yes. The rest of the staff left until Don’s death is resolved.”

  “We need to speak to her immediately,” Logan said.

  “I will have her call you in the morning.”

  “We need to speak to her now.”

  “I don’t…”

  “Or the CDC will be here in one hour to quarantine this house.”

  The man popped up like his ass was on fire. “I’ll go get her. Do I need to be wearing a mask?”

  “No, just get her down here.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked when Ian darted up the stairs.

  “Demon. There’s a demon here.”

  “For fuck’s sake. I don’t want to deal with any more demons.” He gave me a deadpan stare. “Well, you’re okay. Your demon side is an asshole, though.”

  “Do you hear the whispers?”

  I shook my head.

  Ian returned with the woman from the picture. Susan froze when she saw Logan and said, “Ian, go upstairs.”

  “But he---”

  “Go upstairs!”

  He did.

  Like with the previous full-blooded demon I had met, I sensed her power. Vampires weren’t inclined to feel fear. It was one of the strangest changes to me when I became a vampire. I could feel anxiety when I was in the presence of a stronger predator. We could usually sense when we couldn’t beat an opponent and were likely to back down in that case.

  Vampires didn’t do well with injuries because we had to be constantly vigilant of the sun. If we were seriously injured, we needed blood to heal, and that wasn’t always at the ready, especially if we passed out first. Thus, if we didn’t think we could debilitate our opponent with one strike, our instincts demanded that we stand down. Personally, I thought it was one of the major flaws in our race. On the other hand, I was one of the few vampires who tried to thrall Stephen Yocum.