by Arthur, Keri
I unscrewed the lid, scooped up some of the VapoRub, and dabbed it under each nostril. The menthol scent had me blinking back tears—it seemed ten times stronger than I remembered. I resisted the urge to immediately wipe it off and followed him into the cottage. The small front room held a large-screen TV, a fireplace that held only a few glowing embers, and two generously padded sofas. A couple of mugs sat on the coffee table as well as several take-out containers. There was little to suggest evil had been here.
I walked around the room, skimming the top of the sofas and coffee table with an outstretched hand. While psychometry generally worked better with possessions worn close to the skin—things like necklaces, rings, or watches, rather than items of clothing—it was still possible to feel or even track someone through items they may have touched for a few hours. Of course, contact did have to be very recent, and that wasn’t the case here.
Not that I expected anything else, but still…
I motioned Aiden on. The next room was a combined kitchen and dining area that ran the full width of the house; there were dishes in the sink and two coats slung over the dining chairs. A large glass sliding door led out to a covered patio deck and, to the right of this, was the door that no doubt led into the rear bedroom.
Unsurprisingly, the pulse of evil—and the smell of shit—emanated from it. The Vicks wasn’t doing a whole lot to combat it, either.
I did a circuit around the kitchen and living area, just in case, but again, there was nothing. Whoever—whatever—had caused these deaths hadn’t entered the rest of the house. And that meant the entity responsible knew exactly where his victims were—not hard for a vampire, as they could hear the pulse of life from some distance away.
I took a deep breath to gather courage—a major mistake given the foul scents in the air—and then followed Aiden into the bedroom. It was as bad as I feared it would be, but it wasn’t just the smell of shit and urine that had me gasping. It was the emotion—the realization and terror of death that lingered in the air.
At least one of the two people on the bed had been awake when they’d been attacked.
I swallowed heavily and quickly shored up my mental shields. While I’d long ago learned to protect myself against emotions—be they via touch or the ones that lingered in the air after traumatic events such as this—my control had been somewhat spotty recently. Either that, or my ability to sense emotions was getting stronger… which shouldn’t be possible, but that seemed to be a recurring theme in this place.
I finally looked at the bed. It was a massive, wrought-iron thing that made the two people lying on it seem diminutive. Both were naked, appeared to be in their mid-twenties and, at first glance, showed no obvious sign of injury or trauma. I hesitated, and then followed Aiden across the spacious room, stopping at the end of the bed while he continued on to the side of it.
I crossed my arms and tried to ignore the thick caress of fear and evil. “Are we dealing with the same predator who took out the groom last week?”
He nodded and pointed a gloved finger at a small wound just under the man’s ribs. “It certainly appears to be the same MO, although we’ll need an autopsy to confirm it.” He glanced at me. “I didn’t think vampires could cross thresholds without invitation.”
“They generally can’t, although that rule only applies to personal residences rather than commercial, and this would probably qualify as the latter.” I rubbed my arms against the pressing weight of emotion. I had no idea which of these two had been awake when evil had preyed on them—fear didn’t tend to have an overly male or female feel—and I really didn’t want to dip into either of their minds and experience that death firsthand. But what choice did I really have if we wanted to stop this thing before it took more lives? “Do you still want me to attempt the reading?”
His gaze rose to mine, concern evident. “Can you?”
“Their emotions linger, so there’s a slight chance I might be able to pull something out. Don’t get your hopes up, though.”
He nodded and pulled out his phone. “I’ll take some photos while you contact Belle and get set up.”
I silently reached out. After a couple of moments, Belle said, What’s up?
I’m about to read the minds of a dead couple. Not sure if I’ll actually get anything because they’ve been dead for a while, but I’ve got to try.
Is this related to last week’s murder?
It seems so.
Hang on then, and I’ll go grab Monty. He can keep an eye out for me; it’s damn crowded here, and I’d hate anyone to distract me when you’re mind diving.
Good idea. Although I daresay his date wouldn’t be too happy about him suddenly abandoning her for another woman.
Her mind slipped from mine, and I used the time to study the two victims with my ‘other’ senses. The thick, dark emotion I was sensing seemed to be hovering over the man more than the woman, suggesting he was the one who’d woken in the midst of the attack. So why hadn’t he reacted? Why had he simply lain there? Did the thing behind these murders have a means of immobilizing its victims? Vampires could certainly alter perceptions so that they sometimes appeared to disappear, but that was simply a psychic ability—a type of telepathy that clouded rather than controlled.
But vampires generally left distinct bite marks behind, and there were no such marks here—only that small, half-inch cut just under their ribs.
That very much suggested we were dealing with something other than a vampire, which in some respects, was a shame. At least if it had been a vampire, we could have gone to Maelle Defour for help. She was the reservation’s resident bloodsucker, although few outside the council actually knew that. The rangers certainly hadn’t been told, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to do so. Aside from the fact I’d promised not to, the bitch was scary. She definitely wasn’t someone I wanted to be on the wrong side of.
But she was someone we should probably talk to, and the sooner the better. If there was another vampire lurking, she’d know about it.
Righto, Belle said. We’ve been ushered into a private room, and Monty’s on door watch.
I swallowed to ease a suddenly dry throat and then said, “I’m ready when you are, Aiden.”
He nodded and stepped away from the bodies. “I’ll record events; just remember to state what you’re seeing.”
“If I see anything.”
I moved closer to the dead man; his emotions pressed harder against my shields, and my skin crawled. He’d definitely seen their attacker. Whether any memory of it remained was another matter entirely.
I lightly pressed my fingers to either side of his skull, his flesh cool against my skin. Fear surged, though I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was his or mine or a combination of both. I tried to ignore it as I closed my eyes and opened the psychic part of me.
For several seconds, nothing happened. His terror and disbelief washed through me, but that was a lingering emotional output rather than actual memory. At a surface level, his mind was utterly dark. Utterly dead.
I frowned and pushed a little deeper; nothing remained except the deepening chill of death.
Our only hope was the rear recesses of his memory, but even if some memories did linger, the likelihood of them being the ones we wanted weren’t great.
I sucked in air and dove into the deadness. It gathered around me, pushed into me, making my heart race even as its chill began to invade my body.
“Anything?” Aiden asked softly.
I shook my head and kept pushing. His mind—his memories—were cold… so damn cold.
Lizzie, you need to pull back.
I will… in a second.
Ice gathered within, and I shivered. Death’s fingers were now crawling from his flesh to mine, but there was something in the distance, a flicker that was a possible memory. I reached harder, drew closer. It was a fragment and as fragile as fog, but if it gave some clue as to what had done this, then I had to at least try to snare it.
My breathing
became a harsh rasp, and the icy numbness crept from fingertips to my wrist and then crawled up my arm.
You need to pull out. Now. Or I’ll make you.
Just one second more…
“Lizzie,” Aiden said. “Stop. You’re starting to look like death warmed up.”
I ignored them both and, with a last desperate push, reached the fragment. It wasn’t the past—it was a tiny piece of the present… A face, a veil, half a body floating above us, her entrails slapping warmly against my stomach. A forked tongue, flickering out, cutting flesh—
The connection severed abruptly, and I fell backwards with a gasp. Aiden caught me before I hit the floor and then swept me into his arms, carrying me over to a nearby chair and placing me down gently.
I was shaking so hard my teeth chattered, and my heart pounded so fast that I couldn’t catch my breath. Aiden squatted in front of me and began rubbing my hands. I could barely feel it, my fingers were so damn cold.
Damn it, Lizzie, that was stupid—
Perhaps, but it was still worth it.
Given those fragments don’t make sense, the jury is out on that one. Her anger—and fear for me—ripped through her mental tones. What sort of demon has half a body and their entrails hanging out, for fuck’s sake? No living one, for sure.
Which means we might be dealing with some sort of ghoul.
Maybe, but that still doesn’t excuse going as deep as you did. Fuck it, Liz, you were so close to the edge this time that I had trouble pulling you out. You scared the hell out of me.
I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to. I hesitated. I had to try, though.
No, you actually didn’t. Not if it puts your life in danger. Next time I say stop, damn well stop.
I will.
Her snort echoed loudly. Say that with a little more conviction, and I might just believe you. I’ll leave you to Aiden’s tender ministrations. Yell if you need me.
Thanks, Belle.
Her thoughts left mine, and I became aware of the warmth creeping back into my fingers. It damn well hurt. Belle’s fear had certainly been justified—if the chill had crept any further up my arm—if it had reached my chest and my heart—I would have died.
I sucked in several deep breaths and then met Aiden’s gaze. His expression was grim, and his fear swam around me, a thick scent that filled my nostrils. “Damn it, Liz, you frightened the hell out of me. I could literally see death creeping up on you.”
“Belle said the same thing.” I kept my voice light, even though I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and hold on tight. Against the cold that still had its hooks in me. Against the deeper danger that loomed on the not-so-distant horizon. “But I’m fine. Really, I am.”
He didn’t look convinced, and that wasn’t entirely surprising, given I still felt like shit warmed up and no doubt looked like it.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee? Whiskey? Woolen gloves?”
I laughed, as he’d no doubt intended. “If you have the latter two in that kit of yours, I’ll love you forever.”
Something flared in his eyes. Something so heated, deep, and real that it made my heart sing. No matter what this man said, there was at least some part of him that wished we could be so much more than temporary lovers.
“Unfortunately, I don’t,” he said. “But I can get Jaz to grab them if it’ll make you feel better.”
I smiled and kissed him. It was light but tender and made me want a whole lot more. But now was neither the time nor the place. “Thanks, but I’ll be just fine after I rest. In the meantime, I did see something, though I’m not entirely sure it makes sense.” I quickly updated him and then added, “Either the memory was a false one—maybe they’d been watching a horror movie before they went to bed—or we’re dealing with some sort of ghoul.”
He frowned. “Can a ghoul even interact with the real world?”
“Ghouls fall more on the demonic side of things, rather than ghostly, and tend to have a love for human flesh.”
“This one is only taking the blood and the heart, though.”
“Which doesn’t discount the possibility—demons have their food preferences just as we do.” I shrugged. “Do you want me to attempt another—”
“No,” he cut in bluntly. “I do not. I want you to rest right there until I can get someone to take you home.”
“There are cabs in this town,” I said, voice wry. “I’m quite able to grab one.”
“Yes, but I’d rather ensure—”
“Aiden, honestly, I’ll be fine. But I really need to get out of here—the man’s emotions linger, and shielding against them is pulling at my strength.”
His gaze swept me for a moment, then he nodded and rose. “Fine. But please go home and rest.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What makes you think I won’t?”
“Because you’ve the look of someone who has the scent of prey in her nose, and that generally means trouble.”
“I only wish that were true—it’d make tracking down this thing a whole lot easier.” I paused and glanced across to the French doors. “Didn’t you say they were open when Lacy got here?”
He nodded. “Why?”
“Given the weather, it’s doubtful our couple would have left them open, even if they had been using the hot tub. So if our murderer was responsible, she might have left either a fingerprint or some other sort of residue on the handle. Help me up.”
He did so; the room spun briefly, and the thick taste of bile hit my throat. I swallowed heavily, then forced my feet to move. Aiden kept a steadying grip on my arm—obviously, I wasn’t hiding the weakness as well as I thought.
I raised a hand and ran it just above the door handle. My fingers tingled briefly over the left one but not the right, but it wasn’t enough to garner any sort of impression. Nothing other than hate, at any rate.
Why would a ghoul hate?
They’re ghouls, came Belle’s comment. I’d have thought hate comes with the territory.
“Anything?” Aiden asked.
“She touched the handles, but I’m not getting much more than that.” To Belle, I added, Why are you following my thoughts? Shouldn’t you be with Kash, enjoying the party?
Kash has cottoned on to Monty’s date, and we’re consoling ourselves at the bar.
Are you sure that wasn’t Monty’s plan all along?
Even he wouldn’t go that far. Not when he was obviously enjoying her company.
It was very interesting she’d noticed that, but I had enough sense not to say it. Enjoy the rest of your night, then.
The booze and food is free, so how could I not?
Her amusement faded from my mind. Aiden called me a cab, then escorted me back through the house and waited on the front porch with me.
Lights swept around the corner, and the fierce wail of sirens bit through the night; a heartbeat later, the green-striped white SUV pulled up beside Aiden’s truck, and Ciara—who wasn’t only the coroner, but also his sister—climbed out. After grabbing her gear from the back of the SUV, she dashed through the rain to the front porch.
“What have we got this time?” she said, giving me a quick but friendly nod.
“Two bodies, but similar MO to the groom’s murder.”
She grunted and looked at me. “You able to get anything?”
“Nothing useful.”
“That’s inconvenient.”
“Yes, it is,” I agreed wryly.
“The bodies are in the rear bedroom,” Aiden said. “I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
Ciara nodded and headed in. I crossed my arms and shivered, though it wasn’t so much the night’s chill but rather the still-fading remnants of death. Aiden wrapped an arm around my shoulders and tugged me closer to his big, warm body. He didn’t say anything and neither did I. We didn’t really need to.
The cab came a few minutes later. I tugged the coat’s hood over my head and, after dropping a kiss on Aiden’s cheek, dashed out into the wild night. It did
n’t take long to get home; once I’d paid the driver, I climbed out and swung my pack over my shoulder.
It was then that I noticed them.
Tiny threads of magic, floating through the air.
Tiny threads that had been torn apart.
My gaze jumped to our café on the other side of the road.
Multiple layers of the magic protecting the building were missing or had been rendered inert.
Someone up to no good had tried to get inside.
Chapter Three
That the attacker hadn’t entirely succeeded was no doubt due to the fact that the remaining layers were enhanced by wild magic. Whoever did this—be it Clayton or one of his flunkies—had obviously decided getting into the building wasn’t worth the risk of provoking it.
If it was Clayton, then he now knew about my affinity with the wild magic, even if he couldn’t be aware of the full extent.
Rain poured from my hood and pooled around my feet, but I didn’t immediately move. I just studied the building, looking for possible snares or traps. I couldn’t see any, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Clayton, like most fully powered blueblood witches, was utterly capable of concealing his spells.
I swiped the rain from my face, then forced my feet into action and quickly crossed the road. Energy pressed at my fingertips in readiness, but no one jumped out at me and nothing magical attacked. The front door hadn’t in any way been jimmied, and the windows remained locked. I hesitated and then walked around to the rear of the building. Our new SUV sat alone in the parking space, and the back door looked untouched. I tested the handle; still locked.
I hesitated again and then walked back to the front door. While I could have gone through the rear entrance easily enough, the hallway beyond was small and had very little in the way of fighting room—something I’d discovered the hard way a few months ago. I shoved the key into the lock and, just for an instant, magic crawled across my fingers. Though it was little more than an echo of the power held by the man behind it, I remembered its feel well enough.
Clayton.
Clayton had been here.
