Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Sorcha was still confused by who he was texting. What was a Dark-Hunter? “Are they similar to ghost hunters?”
He gave her an irritated glower. “Not even. They’re immortal warriors who sell their souls to a Greek goddess for a single act of vengeance…
rather a cheap sale if you ask me. Personally, I’d demand more, but that’s what happens when you don’t realize your worth…
Anyway, after they give up their souls, they serve the goddess Artemis so that they can keep Daimons from stealing human souls.
It’s definitely a thing in their world.”
Wow. She wasn’t sure how to even begin processing that. “You know, there are so many things I wish I wasn’t learning on this job. And these Daimons are in New Orleans, you said?”
“They’re all over.”
“So, there’s a Dark-Hunter here?” she asked.
“Three actually. But Kieran MacAllister is the one I talk to most.”
His phone rang.
“Speak of the devil.” Luke answered it and put it on speaker. “MacAllister…how you doing?”
“Sitting here with me baffies, tassie and box. Couldn’t be better. You, mate?”
That was one impressive Scottish accent on that man. She could barely understand what he was talking about.
Luke didn’t seem to have any problems translating. “Sounds like fun.”
“I know that’s not why you’re calling. So what’s it, then?” Kieran asked.
“We have a dead college student. Something took her soul. Was wondering if it could be Daimon related.”
“Ah dinnae ken. What did the body look like?”
“Bloody. Torn to pieces.”
MacAllister sucked his breath in through his teeth. “Not one of ours, then, mate. Daimons don’t waste time on that sort of laldy. Too feared of getting caught.”
“How many Daimons are in the city?” she asked.
“Hello, there…didn’t tell me we had company. Is she tidy?”
Luke laughed. “For a toonser, aye.”
Sorcha shoved playfully at Luke. “Would you two stop speaking in code? I’d like to follow this conversation.”
Luke wrinkled his nose at her. “With the name Sorcha O’Malley, I’d think you could follow it.”
“Irish is different from Scottish Gaelic. Is fearr Gaeilge briste, ná Béarla clíste.”
Kieran laughed. “Nicely done, lass. Only understood a wee bit of that.”
Luke winked at her before he spoke to Kieran. “Aye. She’s a stoater for someone who thinks broken Irish is better than clever English.”
When Kieran spoke, she could hear the smile in his voice.
“Well then, lass, to answer your question, we have a fair nest of them here in Savannah. Not too bothersome much of the time. But every now and again, they come to town to pick off some tourists…maybe a college student or two if they’re in the right mindset for it.
But they mimic a vampire in attack. Two marks on the neck, and not a soul to be found.
It’s what feeds them. They don’t normally desecrate the flesh.
No need in it, really. They like to be quick, lest me or me boyos come across them and decide to free the souls they took. ”
That actually made sense. Thick accent and all. “Thank you so much.”
Luke snorted at her. “Appreciate your time, Kieran. Thanks for marking another creature off my list.”
“Haste ye back, Chief.” He hung up.
Luke slid his phone into his pocket. “So we’re left with Revenants, Wendigo, Draugr, Lamia, Ammit the Devourer, Souruita, Valravn, Bubak, Ankou, Cat-sith, Raven Mocker, Slaugh, Boo Hag, and my personal fave, witches.”
Ouch. “That is still a really long list. Something tells me they won’t be as easy to wade through as these last few.”
Luke nodded as he reviewed the list again. “We can probably take Ammit off. Normally those souls are taken in the Underworld. Not this one.”
“Then why did you add it?”
“I was being thorough and listing every beast I could think of who might have skin in the game.”
“I can’t believe with your powers that you can’t narrow it down more.”
He gave an adorable shrug. “That’s why we have Infernal Affairs. As many powers as I have, preternatural beings are really good at covering their tracks. Some of them have had centuries to perfect their skills.”
“Fair point.” Sorcha sighed as she considered what they needed to narrow it down. Honestly, she had no idea.
So, she decided not to make that decision. “Which one do we tackle next?”
He screwed up his face at the list. “Let’s try the Raven Mockers.”
“Why them?”
“Why not?”
Why not, indeed. Shaking her head, she bit back a snort. Why did she enjoy playing this game with him? Normally, it would infuriate her and yet she enjoyed Luke’s silliness. “Okay…but how do we do that?” She assumed it’d be hard to find a Raven Mocker.
“We take a ride over to Tybee Island.”
“Why?” She was beginning to feel a little repetitive with her questions.
He leaned forward as if imparting a big secret to her. “It’s where my Raven Mocker contact lives.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why aren’t you texting or calling him?”
“He’s not a tech-friendly raven. I’ve always wondered if it comes from an aversion to power lines or some other Luddite tendency.
All I know is if he has a number, he hasn’t shared it with the likes of me.
Might be because I’m an asshole. Or he doesn’t like me…
no, can’t be that. I’m adorable.” He held his hands out to indicate his body. “Who could resist this, right?”
Groaning at his play, she finished off her coffee and put the cup in his black dragon trash can. “So, who’s this Raven Mocker you know?”
“Sequoyah Tanamara…whose first name means sparrow. Weird name for a raven, if you ask me. But who am I to question his mother’s choice? I’m so unhappy with the godawful thing my mother stuck me with that I refuse to use it.”
Yeah, he was an odd duck, since they were being fowl about this. But she strangely liked him.
“And what exactly are Raven Mockers?” She’d heard the term and seen it used in fiction, but her information was sketchy at best.
“They’re Cherokee in origin. And like a Daimon, they take souls to elongate their lives. Normally, they only prey on the dying. If they’re not driven off when a person dies, they will consume the soul as it leaves the body.”
“That doesn’t sound like our perp.”
“Unless the girl was dying from her attack, and a Raven Mocker saw her and decided to consume something handy. We really need the coroner’s report, but Conspiracy’s still working on the body.”
What? Was he talking in code again? “Conspiracy?”
“Kyle Craley. He’s the ME.”
Sadly, Sorcha knew if she kept this job, she’d meet that ME and become well acquainted with him soon enough. “Why do you call him Conspiracy?”
There was that evil grin again. “You’ll find out soon enough. Bernadette prefers to call him Creepy Craley.”
“Again, why?”
“You’ll find out.”
And the way he said that made her stomach shrivel. There was something up with the coroner.
Lovely…
Deciding it could wait, she moved on with her questioning. “What about cameras? Any on the street or on houses?”
“Oh yeah, and they showed nothing. No one following her from her dorm. No one fleeing the cemetery afterward…another reason why I know it’s an IA case and not one for the regular LEOs.”
“I’m impressed. You really are an investigator.” And he’d done a lot of work on this after they parted last night. “Where in Hell did you learn your skills?”
Luke seemed to approve of her punnage even though he didn’t comment on it.
“Reyes is a great teacher. Bernadette, too. And they have these amazing things called books…you won’t believe all the kinds of information in them.
Procedural manuals, too. Online government sites. Learn tons of stuff when you use them.”
She scoffed at the sarcasm. “I would say we need to have you do school appearances, but that very thought terrifies me.”
“Why? I like kids.”
“As a rule, or for dinner?”
Luke laughed. “As a rule. Imp says I function on the same mental level. So we tend to get along.”
She completely disagreed. There was nothing childish about him. Not even child-like really. He was all man.
Or demon.
Luke pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Time to fire up Delilah and piss her off.”
“Pardon?”
“My car. She hates when I wake her before noon.” He checked his watch. “Nine is guaranteed to cause a galactic hissy fit and make me happy about it.”
“Your car has feelings?”
“You’ve no idea.” Chuckling, he headed outside, then waited for Sorcha as she went to the door of her office to lock it. He stopped. “Check it before you go.”
Curious as to why he said that, Sorcha opened the door and gasped.
Then she gaped. Her walls were now a beautiful dark gray accented by white and peach.
There was a gorgeous shabby chic chandelier made of metal peach tulips that hung over a contemporary white desk with brass accents.
Her desk chair was a chic white leather that looked unbelievably comfortable.
There were fresh cut flowers on her filing cabinets that were now made of white wood.
And on the far left wall hung the smart board she’d always wanted.
“It’s the best! Thank you!”
“Anything you want changed?” he asked.
She shook her head and before she could think about what she was doing, she hugged him.
Luke was stunned by her actions. Only the damned he’d spared from their torment had ever shown him any kind of gratitude. And that had always been sexual in nature.
He’d never experienced an innocent hug. Neither of his parents believed in such.
And it did the strangest things to his breathing. Something that wasn’t helped by the scent of lilac and woman that hit his senses. She smelled like warm sunshine.
Smiling up at him, she pulled back. “Nothing at all. You must have really hated your former partner.”
He had no comment. Not when his body wasn’t currently under his control.
When he could finally speak again, his words came out a lot gruffer than he meant for them to. “Yeah…glad you like it.”