by AE Jones
“Did you recognize him?” I asked.
“No, but maybe if he had changed to his human form, I might have.”
“Then what happened?”
“The Pavel disappeared. Then the angel came out next, carrying a sword. That shocked me more than anything else. I’ve never seen an angel before, but I knew what he was. He stood for a minute and then disappeared, too.”
“Was either of them carrying anything else?”
“No, neither had the head.”
“How…”
“Word on the street is they’re looking for the vamp’s head, so I put two and two together.”
“Did you see anyone else?” Dalton interjected.
“I saw Sam move behind the dumpster and knew he was safe. But I didn’t see anything else.”
“What about later?” I asked.
“I took off then. A couple hours later, I heard Byron cut through my alley on his way home. He usually gives Sam and me leftovers, but he kept on going this time. I figured he was probably upset by what had happened.”
“Was he carrying anything?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Was anyone following him?”
“I think so. I heard footsteps.”
“Did you sense anything?”
“I think it was human, but I can’t be sure.”
Dalton jumped in. “Have you seen Sam lately?”
“Sam decided to move for a while. Thought it was too dangerous here right now.”
We said our goodbyes and walked back to the car.
I bit my lip to stop from screaming. “Well, crap. We aren’t any closer to finding out who has the head.”
Dalton started the car. “At least Peter corroborated Sam’s story. So the question is, if the angel, the demon, and Byron didn’t take the head, then how did it disappear?”
“One of the humans?”
“You scrubbed them.”
I shrugged. “I’m going to have Misha pull their names once we get back to the office.”
We drove in silence for a minute until Dalton cleared his throat. “Before we get back to the office, I want to say I’m sorry about yesterday. You’re right, I don’t have the right to tell you what to do or how to use your gift.”
My mouth dropped open in surprise.
He continued, “Misha explained to me about Trina and what you did for her.”
“Sometimes my ability actually helps someone.”
“I don’t remember seeing an Amber Alert for Trina. Was it handled without police involvement?”
“The pack went after the poacher. You don’t mess with a shifter’s family. They found the guy within twenty-four hours. He had Trina locked in a shed.”
“Jesus. He didn’t hurt her, did he?”
I swallowed the disgust threatening to well up. “He didn’t want to damage her before she shifted for the first time. Don’t ask me what happened to him. You don’t want to know.”
He nodded.
“About yesterday. I know you were worried about me. Believe it or not, I can usually take care of myself. Even though you’ve seen me slimed and bleeding more than once, I’m not weak.”
He stopped at a red light.
“I would never use the word weak to describe you, Kyle.”
I blinked at the intensity of his stare, a tendril of warmth uncoiling in my chest. “Thank you.”
“Pigheaded, impetuous, smart-mouthed. Those are the words that come to mind.”
“Wow, Dalton, way to ruin a moment.”
The light turned green and he drove through the intersection, laughing.
Chapter 11
I stood with my mouth gaping as Misha pulled a cordless drill out of his tool belt and attached a white board to the wall in the back office. I backed out of range. Whenever Misha used power tools, trouble was sure to follow.
Dalton held the board up until Misha finished drilling and attaching the screws.
After he thanked Misha, I raised my eyebrows at him, and he said, “I asked him to get a white board so we can plot out the case.”
“You should never send Misha alone to the store to buy things. He always comes back with some sort of high-tech gadget.”
“It’s just a white board with dry erase markers. What’s so high-tech about that?”
Misha smiled. “Actually, this is a special board. If you flip the switch in the corner, anything written on the board can be downloaded to a computer for storage. Here are the markers, and I have already installed the software on the computers.”
I laughed. “I told you. I don’t know why you fight me, Dalton. You should be bowing to my superior intelligence.”
For some reason he ignored my statement and spoke to Misha instead. “Is the board ready to go?”
“Yes, ready when you are.”
Dalton walked over and picked up the marker. “Then let’s start with a timeline of what’s happened. What should we list as the first event?”
Misha spoke up. “Fight in the bar where Hampton was decapitated.”
I shook my head. “No, the first event we know about is when Hampton purchased the straends from Doyle.”
The new marker squeaked across the board while Dalton took notes. “Then we have the torture and murder of our John Doe a week ago. Presumably by Hampton or someone working for Hampton. Then Hampton’s death.”
“Right.” I agreed. “The million dollar question is the missing head. Misha, can you pull up a listing of people who were at the bar that night? If Peter’s account of the event is correct, Byron, the angel, and demon didn’t take the head, so we have to consider the others. Maybe one was a supe and we didn’t realize it.”
Jean Luc spoke from behind me and I jumped. “Other than Byron, I did not sense any supes in the bar.”
I scowled back at him. “Jeez, give a girl some warning before you sneak up on her.”
He bowed mockingly. “I apologize.”
Dalton brought us back on topic. “Could another supe have been there and already left the building?”
“I don’t think so,” Misha said. “I asked Byron if there were any more supes in the bar at the time of the incident and he said no.”
“What if they showed up afterwards? Maybe somebody Hampton was supposed to be meeting close by?” Dalton persisted.
“Wouldn’t Byron have noticed someone coming in after the fight?” I argued.
“Not necessarily.” Misha walked over to the board. “Maybe it was another demon or angel who materialized, snatched the head, and then dematerialized.”
“Or maybe a vamp with super speed?” I turned to Jean Luc. “Would a vamp sense another one’s death?”
“If the vampire was close by, they would more than likely experience a general loss of energy, yes. If they were from the same sire, most definitely.”
Maybe we were on to something. “Sebastian knew the second he died. If Hampton was meeting Sebastian or one of his fledglings, they could have gone in and swooped up the head before we got there.”
“Here’s what I don’t understand, Jean Luc,” Dalton said. “Why wouldn’t Hampton have poured on the super speed to get away from the demon?”
“He was a relatively young vampire. It can take decades before powers mature. He probably did not have the ability yet.”
Dalton turned back to the board and listed the suspects who might have the head. “Okay, now let’s talk about Byron. I have a theory about why the demon went after him. Normally, when an event occurs in front of humans, you erase their minds but don’t erase any supe memories, correct?”
I nodded.
“So the demon went after Byron thinking he was the only one from the bar who remembered what had happened.”
“It makes sense,” I conceded. “But like you said before, if the demon had been in Byron’s apartment when we arrived, he wouldn’t have bothered hitting me over the head.”
“Agreed. Peter said a human followed Byron. We need to figure out who the other p
erp was and why he was in the apartment while we were there. Jean Luc, did we dust for prints or pick up evidence from Byron’s apartment?”
“Yes. I have a partial print I was able to extract from the statue that the guy used to attack Kyle. Since demons do not have prints while they are in their demon form, we can rule the Pavel out unless he transformed to human. I processed the prints through our database and found nothing. I am running them through human channels now.”
Dalton grinned. “I won’t even ask how you can access police and FBI databases. What else do we know?”
Misha spoke up. “I’ve been researching demons. Even though Pavels are powerful, they normally do not have the ability to stop a human heart with a thought. He would have had to call in some huge favors from the demon realm to garner that power.”
“What’s a demon realm?” Dalton asked.
Before Misha could answer, Dalton’s phone beeped. He pulled it out and checked the screen. “It’s a text from one of the detectives working the John Doe case.” He clicked on the screen. “Good news. We have an ID on our Doe. His name is David Cowell. He was a former Jesuit priest. He taught religious studies at John Carroll University until a year ago.”
I piped up. “Former? Did he leave or did the church kick him out?”
Dalton answered, “Only one way to find out. Let’s go visit the campus. Misha, can you enlighten me later about demons and the demon realm?”
“No problem. I have a PowerPoint presentation that explains the basics. We’ll go through it when you get back.”
I laughed when Dalton’s mouth dropped open.
* * *
Dalton and I walked around John Carroll’s quad toward the administrative offices.
I pointed to the building. “The offices are over to our left.”
“You’re familiar with the campus?”
“Yeah. Misha, Jean Luc and I were here a few years ago. We had to cover up for a drunken freshman shifter who decided it would be hilarious to show his tail to his roommates. You would think it would be easy to scrub a drunk’s mind, but it’s not.”
“I can imagine.”
We walked up to the building and opened the door into the main area. A student sat behind the front reception desk.
“Lieutenant Dalton, Cleveland police. We need to speak to Father Brown on a police matter.”
The girl’s eyes widened. I wasn’t sure if it was the reference to the police or because Dalton had turned his killer eyes in her direction. I had to hand it to her, the girl held it together.
“Take a seat. I’ll call Father’s office to see if he’s available.”
Within two minutes, Father Brown appeared. “Please come with me.”
We walked down the hallway and around the corner into Brown’s office. Large windows overlooked the quad. Since it was summer, the campus was relatively quiet.
After the door was securely shut, he gestured for us to sit. “You are here on police business. Is this about David, Lieutenant? The detectives were already here this morning.”
“Yes. We need to ask you some additional questions about him. They must have told you his death is a suspected homicide?”
Father Brown nodded. “I have been thinking about it all day. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to kill David.”
I leaned forward. “Maybe someone was holding a grudge?”
“I don’t know why they would.”
Dalton continued. “David left the priesthood?”
“Yes, he was a priest for twenty years and decided he could not continue in the life.”
“Did he decide, or did the church decide for him?” I asked.
Father Brown frowned. “The reason for his leaving is not what you’re thinking.”
“Would you enlighten us, please?” Okay, I probably needed to dial down the sarcasm.
Father Brown turned to Dalton. “Are you Catholic?” Dalton nodded.
For some reason he didn’t bother asking me. “The basic teachings of Catholicism, as with most Christian doctrine, include the concept of good and evil. Humans were made in the image of God and were led astray by temptation. God sent His only Son to earth to save us from our sins. Evil and the temptation to do evil things to ourselves and others, as well as the avoidance of this path, are part of our daily challenge.”
He hesitated before continuing. “Even though we speak of the devil in our teachings, we believe he works through people. David began to believe there were actual demons among us.”
This was not good. “What do you mean, Father?”
“He believed there were people who had actual demons inside of them. These people looked like you and me, but could turn into demons.”
My stomach twisted. “What did he do about it?”
“At first he simply told me and some of the other priests. We sent him to counseling, but he wasn’t swayed from his conviction. When it started to become part of his teachings, we had no choice but to remove him from the classroom. It was one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make.”
“When did David start having these ideas?”
“About two years ago. He went on a sabbatical, and when he returned he was withdrawn and quiet. A few months later he started talking about the demons.”
“Where did he take this sabbatical?”
“He spent a month in Rome and then traveled around Europe on his own for another two months. I’m not certain of all the places he went. Do you honestly think his delusions caused his death?”
“We are following every lead. If we know his frame of mind, it might help us figure out what happened to him,” Dalton volunteered. “What had David been doing since leaving the priesthood?”
Father Brown shook his head. “I’m not sure. He became very closemouthed about it. Whenever I asked him, he would tell me it was safer if I did not know the details, and I didn’t want to push him. I was afraid he would shut down altogether.”
Dalton stood and pulled out a business card. “Thank you for your time, Father. If you think of anything else that might help us, please call me.”
“Yes, I will. Thank you Lieutenant and Miss…?”
“Smith.” I answered.
Father Brown stared at me for a second and nodded. He had the same look Doc Miller gave me when I lied to her.
When Dalton and I stepped outside the building, he rolled his eyes. “Smith?”
“He doesn’t need to know my name.”
“If you’re going to lie, you could be a little more creative.”
“It got the job done.”
He frowned. “Or it made him more suspicious.”
“We need to check out Cowell’s place.”
“Agreed, but we can’t go there now. The detectives and investigative unit are probably still working the scene. We’ll wait until tonight to sneak in and check it out.”
I smiled. “I love being stealthy. Jean Luc will want to come too. He’s the king of stealth.”
Chapter 12
I had fallen into a rut. It was midnight, and here I was again, standing outside my apartment with a box of cream sticks, waiting for my ride. Only I could have a late-night rendezvous which included whipped cream and three beautiful males, none of whom were sleeping with me.
I shook off my pity party when Jean Luc came down Mayfield Road way too fast and screeched to a stop in front of my building, the smell of burnt rubber filling the air. The back door of the van opened and Misha held out his hands. One to help me into the van, the other to snag the pastry box.
“What have we tonight?”
“Cream sticks.”
Misha sniffed. “Chocolate?”
I smiled. “Yeah, and I had them throw in some maple cream for variety.”
“I don’t know what I would do without you.”
I sat down in the seat, catching a frown on Dalton’s face which he masked quickly. I had forgotten about the whole Misha-as-my-boyfriend scenario I had been spinning. I would need to take care of that at a la
ter and much more private time.
“So where are we heading?”
“Parma,” Jean Luc responded.
“Pierogi,” Misha mumbled.
I laughed. “Eat your pastries, Mish. There are no all-night restaurants serving pierogi in Parma.”
“What are pierogi?” Dalton asked.
Misha gasped. “You can’t be serious.”
Dalton held up his hands. “Sorry, but I’m not originally from here. And I’ve only lived here the past few years.”
I decided to enlighten him. “Pierogi are a Polish food. They are similar to ravioli, but the pasta is thicker, and they’re stuffed with a combination of mashed potatoes and anything else you can think of—cheese, onions, and broccoli, to name just a few.”
“I think I’ve seen them in the frozen food section. I’ll have to try them.”
Misha gasped again. “Don’t you dare!”
“Misha, knock it off. You sound like a debutante with the vapors. What he means is, you have to have authentic pierogi. Come to Parma and find a mom and pop diner with a grandma working in the back rolling out the pierogi by hand.”
“There’s one Kyle and I go to quite often. You’ll have to come with us next time.”
Dalton’s jaw tightened before he spoke. “I’ll do that.”
I flipped open the box lid to distract Misha from saying anything else stupid.
“Oh. Baker’s dozen. Thanks, Kyle.”
Dalton turned in his seat. “That’s a lot of donuts for the four of us.”
“Actually, Jean Luc doesn’t eat and I’m not hungry. I brought the dozen for Misha and had them throw in an extra in case you wanted one.”
Dalton gawked as Misha dug into the box and pulled out a stick, taking a large bite.
I reached into the box and pulled out a maple cream, handing it to Dalton. “His demon metabolism allows him to eat anything he wants without gaining weight. If it could be bottled and sold to humans, we would make millions.”
Thirty minutes later we arrived at Cowell’s house. Misha had eaten half the box already.
Misha and his cream sticks would stay in the van to monitor police traffic while the rest of us searched the house. We parked on a back street and cut through the yard to get to the small bungalow. Police tape formed an ‘x’ across the door. Jean Luc had the door unlocked in about thirty seconds. Even Dalton was impressed.
