by C. T. Phipps
No lie, I also saw the appeal.
“Are you sure this ring will increase my ability to do magic?” Victoria asked, looking it up and down.
“You can try it out if you want but I don’t sell damaged goods,” Lucien said, his voice low and gruff but still somehow soft. “Unlike some people.”
“People should watch what they’re buying,” Victoria said, shrugging. “Why is it my problem if some of it is cut?”
“It reflects on me,” Lucien said softly. “There are very nasty people out there who don’t like it when their dealer crosses them.”
“Like you?” Victoria said, walking up to him with far more sway to her hips than necessary.
Lucien pushed her back with one finger on her right shoulder. “Like me. Besides, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
Victoria snorted. “Which one?”
Oh, that bitch. I can’t believe my brother was hooked up with her. I took another look at her outfit and how she wore it.
Okay, yeah I could.
“Our business is concluded,” Lucien said, gesturing to the door. “Fair warning, if you want to disguise yourself, then maybe next time don’t wear something that attracts everyone’s attention.”
“Maybe I was just going for one person’s.”
“Take a hint,” Lucien said.
“I want the knife,” Victoria said.
Lucien lifted up a Bowie knife blade with serrated edges and a handle that looked like it had been carved from bone then polished. “This knife? The one you tried to order from my supplier behind my back?”
“Yes,” Victoria said, almost hissing. “The sacrificial knife.”
“I told you, you weren’t getting it,” Lucien said, stabbing it into his desk. “I don’t deal in blood magic.”
“Then maybe you aren’t the big bad you pretend to be,” Victoria said. “Maybe you’re just another poseur.”
Lucien then hurled it at the wall beside her head, stabbing her wig into the door.
Victoria actually blinked.
He then walked up to her, took the knife, and then pushed her out the door into some sort of combination of bar and rave. I recognized it from descriptions, as there weren’t many nightclubs here in town.
The Lyons’ Den.
That was when the vision ended.
“I think I’ve found the murder weapon,” I said, clutching the ring. “It belongs to Lucien Lyons.”
“The drug dealer?” Emma said.
“The club owner?” Gerald said.
“Yeah,” I said, putting the ring down.
I was about to examine the other objects when the door was unlocked behind us.
“Oh crud,” I muttered, realizing how this was going to look.
Moments later, Clara, Marcus, and Agent Timmons were entering into the room with more shouting occurring as a result.
“What the hell is she doing here? Get the hell away from my granddaughter’s body!” Marcus shouted at the top of his lungs.
“Gerald, why the hell are they here? Emma, step away!”
“Ah, delightful! Did you find anything?” Agent Timmons said, clasping his hands together.
Clara immediately spun around. “What?”
“My purpose is to prevent these murders from—” Agent Timmons didn’t get a chance to respond more.
Marcus O’Henry shifted into the ‘war’ form all shapeshifters possessed. The half-man, half-wolf that had first appeared in An American Werewolf in London but all shifters possessed a variant of. It was a form most shifters used to kill, since our instincts were at their most feral but the human mind was also present.
He launched himself at Agent Timmons, regardless of the consequences to the community and himself.
Only to be sent flying through the air and against the ground by some sort of bizarre judo throw that caused the FBI agent’s hands to glow while doing it. Clara immediately drew her gun and aimed it at Agent Timmons, then her father, then lowered it, clearly stunned by the development.
Agent Timmons cracked his knuckles. “Technically, that qualifies as assaulting a federal officer but because of your father’s emotional distress I’m willing to let it slide. If he attempts to interfere or obstruct my investigation again, I will press charges.”
“What the hell was that?” Clara said, putting away her gun and going over to her father’s moaning form as he shifted back to human form.
“Venusian Aikido,” Agent Timmons said. “I learned it from an avatar of a Hindu warrior god taking the form of the Third Doctor. I had just imbedded numerous hallucinogenic drugs and gone through a marathon session of the classic Doctor Who series on Netflix. It gave me a substantial boost to my already-enhanced abilities gained from studying the immortal Bruce Lee’s works, but only when I fight for justice.”
Everyone in the room stared at him.
Myself included.
“You were saying, Jane?” Agent Timmons said.
“Uh, right, Agent—”
“Alex, please.”
I took a deep breath and gave him an abridged version of everything that had happened in the last hour. It surprised me how easily the words flew from my mouth. Clara looked furious at Gerald when the subject of him sleeping with Victoria came up.
“You slimy piece of trash,” Clara snarled. “She was a girl!”
“Actually, I believe she may have been operating under a love spell,” Agent Timmons, Alex, said, walking over to the doll in the plastic container. Opening it up, he smelled it. “This is a specific kind of sympathetic magic. Rosemary and cycle blood are classic tools for controlling a potential lover’s mind.”
“Eww,” every woman in the room said simultaneously.
Alex zipped up the bag. “In any case, I don’t believe Dr. Pasteur was in his right mind when he preyed on Ms. O’Henry. Be that as it may, his diminished capacity doesn’t mean he should be involved in this case and I’ll be asking the FBI to send over our own coroner.”
Gerald looked horrified and I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be involved with someone, even someone I shouldn’t have been with, only to find out someone had been messing with my mind.
“That slut,” Marcus said, hissing on the ground and holding his stomach. “Baring her throat for a dead man. Disgusting. And a witch too? I’m glad she’s de—ow!”
Clara grabbed hold of his wrist tightly. “Oh, sorry, Father, it looks like it’s broken. It’ll take a few hours to heal.”
Marcus glared at her but didn’t say anything else.
Emma, however, looked crestfallen as her grandfather’s reaction hit her hard. “We have to find who did this.”
“And the other murders, yes,” Alex said, zipping up Victoria’s body bag.
“Wait,” I said, taking a deep breath. It occurred to me I’d been paying so much attention to Victoria’s death I’d missed something important. “What other murders?”
Chapter Six
Alex paused a second, as if it surprised him I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. “Ah, my apologies, the first two victims in the case. Courtney Anne Waters, selkie, nineteen, her throat cut and left arm removed. Thomas M. Hart, werestag, forty-five, stabbed and right arm removed. Both showed signs of having been killed by the same individual who murdered Ms. O’Henry.”
“And you still arrested my brother!?” I said, turning to Clara and Marcus on the ground. “You think he’s a damn serial killer?!”
This was insane.
“Your brother used to date Courtney Anne Waters,” Clara said softly and firmly. “She was a member of his drug-dealing pack. Thomas M. Hart was also involved in their criminal business.”
“He is not a killer,” I snapped at her. I was more likely to kill someone than Jeremy. Not that I was going to say that to the sheriff.
“He knows something,” Clara said, narrowing her eyes. “I can smell the guilt.”
Oh great. That was Clara’s Gift. “So you’re going to charge him
on the basis of his smell.”
Clara kept her eyes on me. “Unless he gives me someone better to do so, yes. You yourself said Gerald didn’t do it.”
I almost brought up Lucien, whom I hadn’t gotten around to talking about, but decided to hold my tongue. If this was the kind of quality police work I was to expect from my local law enforcement then I didn’t want her blundering into the Lyons’ Den and giving him a chance to dispose of the evidence. Goddess, now I was glad Emma had brought me into this.
I tried to remember Courtney Anne Waters and Thomas Hart, figuring I must have run into them sometime since there weren’t that many shifters in the town. It turned out, yes, there apparently were since I couldn’t place either of them. Courtney might have been one of my brother’s friends he hung out with, a slightly overweight girl with purple hair, but then she might not have been. Thomas Hart, I assumed, was probably one of the Cervid clan and thus a distant relation, but I barely could name all my first cousins let alone third or fifth. If they were dead and my brother knew them, then why hadn’t he brought them up? When were they killed? I needed to talk with him.
“I’ll see that boy hang,” Marcus said, slowly getting off the ground. “Even if I have to get that Unitarian nut job and my own kin thrown off the case. I’ll call Judge Hawthorne, the governor, and Senator Rollins and—”
“Please leave, Mister O’Henry,” Alex said. “I’ve been very patient and believe me, I am quite aware of who you know. I also know how to make you so radioactive that no politician will touch you, up to and including the local postmaster.”
Marcus glared at him, held his wrist, and walked out through the door.
“Wow,” Clara said, watching him leave. “I have never seen my father back down. It almost makes me not want to throw you out a window.”
“I’m inclined to believe this is a hate crime rather than something motivated by more personal reasons,” Alex said, turning over. “I think it is something that is related to whatever your brother was up to, Ms. Doe—”
“Jane, please,” I said, automatically then blushed. I didn’t know why I did but I just did. Maybe my emotions were still screwed up from reading Gerald.
“Jane,” Alex said, continuing. There was something calm and soothing about his voice. It made everything seem okay despite the utter lunacy of recent events. “So I do think we should keep him in our custody but for his own protection as well as interrogation. After all, it is people in his circle who are being targeted. He might be in danger as well. I promise you he will be released within twenty-four hours unless startling evidence of his guilt shows up.”
“You don’t get to make that call,” Clara said, staring at him. “This is my case and my family.”
I almost snapped that she was going after my family but kept my mouth shut. Clara wasn’t a bad person, but her niece was dead and there was a madman running around her town. That would have put me off my game as well. Hell, I’d broken into the medical examiner’s office and was ready to withhold evidence. I was just getting started to. I’d do anything to protect my brother, drug dealer or not.
“Ms. O’Henry, remember when I said you could remain in charge of this investigation?” Alex said, turning back to Clara.
“Yeah.”
“I lied,” Alex said firmly with the merest hint of reproach. “You may remain on as a subordinate.”
Clara sighed in defeat. “Hell, I’d do the same thing with everyone having their fingers in this pie. This whole town seems to have a relationship with Victoria.”
I walked up beside Emma and squeezed her hand. “Yeah, well, I’m sure you’ll find another lead soon.”
Emma shot me a glance of surprise, stunned I wasn’t going to throw Lucien under the bus. However, all I knew was that he had been Victoria’s drug connection and she’d bought some magical items from him. The sacrificial knife, as Victoria had called it, was the key to all of this and if I could get it from Lucien then it would be the clue needed to save my brother. I mean, yeah, I sounded like a teen murder-mystery star but it was a plan that made sense.
At least to me.
“Yeah, sure,” Emma said.
Gerald didn’t respond, looking instead like he was about to be sick. I didn’t know if vampires could vomit, but he certainly looked like it. I felt awful for him, mind control was one of the worst things you could do to a person, but it meant he wasn’t bringing up Lucien either. I had to think of my brother first. Still, I hoped he’d get some counseling for what happened. Human law hadn’t caught up with magic in terms of what was legal and not, but what she’d done was unforgivable among supernaturals.
“Can I speak with my brother?” I asked.
“Yes,” Alex said. “However, if I can borrow you for my investigation, I’d appreciate your help. Inadmissible or not, the abilities you possess could lead us to the real killer and potentially save others.”
“Do you need me now?” I asked, really wanting to get after Lucien.
“No, but probably later tonight.”
He pulled out his cellphone and I gave him my number as I found myself looking at him and thinking about him. He was extremely good looking; now that I got a chance to look at him up close, there wasn’t that much of an age difference between us. I mean, he was what, twenty-five? Okay, seven years, but that wasn’t that bad.
Was it?
In my mind I saw myself as a deputy, working to solve crimes here in Bright Falls well into my twenty-fifth year. Agent Timmons and I were together, kissing, with some sort of relationship going on. I shook that thought away, unsure if it was a vision of the future or just my overactive imagination. I didn’t want to be a deputy. I wanted to be a writer.
“Yeah, I’ll give you my number,” I said, mumbling it before heading toward the door. “Good luck.”
I felt slightly sick at myself for fantasizing about the cute young FBI agent when Emma’s sister’s body was just a few away and my brother was still a suspect in her murder. Forcing that thought away, I walked to the door where Emma was holding it.
As soon as I passed through the door, Emma shut it before grabbing my arm. “What the hell was that?”
Emma’s eyes were yellow and she had the same expression she’d had on earlier when she’d threatened Doctor Pasteur. Her strength pressed down right beneath my elbow and hurt like hell. I’d never seen her that angry at me before.
“Which part?” I asked, trying not to grimace. I wasn’t afraid of my best friend. Maybe I should have been, but I wasn’t.
“The part where you didn’t tell them about Lucien,” Emma said, lowering her voice practically to a hiss. “I need you here, Jane.”
I closed my eyes. “We need to do this ourselves. We need to go to Lucien and make sure we get him to tell us what he knows.”
Emma blinked rapidly. “Like on TV?”
“Yes, except I can read objects,” I said, shrugging. “It won’t be that difficult to find out what he knows.”
Actually, it sounded extraordinarily difficult, but I wasn’t about to tell her. Also, I didn’t exactly want to tell her I was afraid her racist old grandpa and aunt were going to set up my brother.
“Are you sure?” Emma said, letting go of my arm. “I mean, I trust you and everything, but this is a big thing you’re asking.”
I looked at her. “Would you believe I had a vision about it?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Damn, now I felt awful for lying to her. “Well, I did. This is how it has to go.”
Emma frowned and looked at my arm then her hand. My arm was starting to bruise, but, being a shapeshifter, it would probably heal in about an hour. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”
“It’s okay,” I said, shrugging. “You’re a wolf, I’m a deer. It’s in your blood.”
“That’s racist!” Emma said.
“What’s racist?” my father said, causing me to jump.
I turned to look at my mother, Judy, and John standing beside a handcuffe
d orange-jumpsuit-wearing Jeremy. My mother was a short, dark haired, copper-skinned woman who was about middle-of-the-road for werewomen. Which, in her case, made her look like an Odawa model and I felt inadequate even next to my own mom. She was wearing a black wool sweater with a pentacle over a burning heart necklace that reflected her weird Christian-Wiccan mish-mash faith that was apparently something she’d been brought up with. She also had a long dress that was covered in a forest pattern I found vaguely unsettling.
“Hi,” I said, taking a deep breath. “If I’m arrested in the next twenty-four hours for interfering in a police investigation, please don’t blame me. Blame Jeanine somehow.”
John narrowed his eyes. “Jane, what are you up to?”
“What she has to do,” Judy said, coming to my rescue. “Trust her and the spirits will reward us.”
“Oh, yeah, great,” John muttered. “I really would rather trust my son to confess whatever the hell he’s hiding.”
“I’m not hiding anything!” Jeremy said, obviously lying to my trained sister eyes. He wasn’t acting like a killer, though. “My girlfriend just died. I’m upset!”
Emma looked between my parents. “Uh, why aren’t you in the interrogation room?”
“Oh, I asked if we could take him to see Agent Timmons,” Judy said. “He agreed and is currently re-evaluating his life.”
My mom’s Gift was the fact she could make almost anything seem reasonable. She didn’t use it on us; otherwise I would have studied much harder, but it was something you really couldn’t fight against because she was naturally persuasive.
“I’m not saying anything,” Jeremy said, his voice hard even in the face of Mom’s voice. “Everything will be fine.”
I wanted to grab my brother and throttle him. This was serious and he was acting like a spoiled brat. “Jeremy, were you dealing drugs?”
Jeremy looked at Emma accusingly only for her to look away.
