Chapter 9 #3
She could hear his voice loud and clear in her head. And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. It is not surprising, then, if his servants also masquerade as servants of righteousness. Their end will be what their actions deserve.
She couldn’t remember where that was in the Bible or even why she thought of it now. But her grandfather had quoted it a lot while she was growing up.
Evil was always appealing, and Luke definitely corroborated what her grandfather had preached.
She could only imagine what her granddad would say if he knew about her new partner. No doubt, Granddaddy would be horrified. Maybe she should be, too.
Yet Luke held a kindness and fairness in him that belied his genetics.
Or maybe she was being stupid and seeing only what she wanted to—just like she’d once done with Bert. On paper, he’d looked perfect.
Confirmation bias was a bitch.
Don’t trust Luke.
As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly. Her grandfather’s other favorite quote.
It was hard for a leopard to change spots. Or for someone to walk away from their habits.
Luke had spent thousands of years in Hell. Thousands of years collecting souls and damning people.
That evil inclination would still be inside him. All she had was his word that he’d changed.
Just like all those times Bert had told her that he wouldn’t hurt her anymore. That he would never lie to her.
How many times had she believed him to her detriment?
Yeah, she had to remember that at the end of the day, Luke was from Hell.
She wasn’t.
If Luke returned to his old ways, she was screwed. They all were. That was a sobering thought, and a terrifying one.
Unless the entire world took up residence in a Chick-fil-A, she had no idea how to stop him.
Her thoughts kept spinning, until they reached their destination.
Helly reappeared the instant Luke parked the car.
As they got out, Sorcha saw a small black sign next to a tree that was drowning in Spanish moss. “Emmet Park?”
“Yeah. There are some shops and businesses over there.” He jerked his chin to a line of them not far away.
But what held her attention was the large number of other trees being devoured by the Spanish moss hanging from them.
Gorgeous…simply gorgeous.
Her gaze went to the white brick building with red awnings just ahead of them. “Old Harbour Inn…” That place was haunted as shit. Even from this distance, she could feel the spirits that were trapped there. “You do see what I do, right?”
Luke arched a brow. “There are ghosts all over Savannah.” He headed toward the hotel where there was an iron bridge with stairs leading down to a cobbled road below where more cars were parked.
Every part of her wanted to run from this place. The last thing she needed was to get closer to the ghosts haunting this area. It was every bit as bad as some of the places she’d gone to in New Orleans.
In fact, this whole area strangely reminded her of that city.
Putting those thoughts and fears out of her mind, she followed Luke down the iron stairs to the alley…or rather road that was paved with mismatched cobblestones that would have turned her ankle had she been wearing her boots or heels. Thank goodness she’d put on her sneakers this morning.
Luke had been right. There were a lot of stores and such around here. This must be one of Savannah’s more touristy areas.
Just as there was definitely a spooky feel in the air along with the musk of moss and damp rocks. “How old is this place?”
Luke shrugged. “Over two hundred years.”
It felt it.
Even in the hot Georgia sun, she had chills on her arms.
As they neared the end of the cobbled road that dead ended at another hotel, she saw where the police had cordoned off the entire area and blocked traffic from coming up or down a ramp to River Walk. It wasn’t until they reached a blue dumpster that she saw the body lying behind it in a strange…
She didn’t even know what to call it. It wasn’t an alley or really anything. Just an out of place rectangle cinder block area that had two open wrought-iron gates to block it.
At first glance, she’d think it’d been built to protect the dumpster, but the dumpster was outside the small cinder block section, and the gates didn’t appear to have a lock.
The body lay in the middle of the rectangle, almost completely obscured by the dumpster. Which was a good thing given the fact that the student was in even worse shape than the last one. Blood coated the cobblestones under the kid and ran down the walkway.
Luke pulled out a pair of latex gloves from his coat pocket.
Bernadette met them while the ME photographed the body.
“Who found the victim?” Luke asked Bernadette.
“Couple of workers about an hour ago. Looks like the same MO. Press is circling like sharks. Serial killers near college campuses make for a bad day for all agencies.”
“Yes, they do.” He turned toward Sorcha. “You see anything?”
“Only something from the drug-induced nightmares of Tim Burton. Gah, this is awful. That poor…” She couldn’t tell if the student was male or female. “Kid.”
Bernadette blocked Sorcha from the crime scene. “If you have to barf, run that way.” She pointed toward the hotel in the opposite direction. “If we taint evidence, the local LEOs will never let us near another crime scene.”
“I’m not going to barf.” She hoped.
Bernadette gave her a pointed stare. “Cap told me what you did at the cemetery.”
Of course, she did. Damn it, Elana. Why?
“I’m fine. Cross my heart.” She made a small X over her breast.
“What is that?” Luke asked.
At first, she thought he was referring to her gesture. Until she realized he was staring at the cinder block wall.
“Blood splatter,” Bernadette said.
“No,” he breathed. “I don’t think so.”
And then Sorcha saw it, too. It was some kind of pattern on the wall. The blood dripped down from what appeared to be a star of some sort.
What was it, indeed…
Moving closer, she scowled at the dried blood. “Is that a snowflake?”
Luke squinted. “Maybe. The blood’s run so much that it’s hard to see what it was originally.”
Bernadette moved to stand between them. “Could just be an optical illusion. What do they call it when people see patterns in abstract drawings?”
“Pareidolia.”
Bernadette gaped at Sorcha. “How did you know that?”
“I have no idea how my brain spat that out. I learned it in college and… I don’t know. I’m a freak.”
Luke didn’t comment as he headed toward the ME who wore a pair of light khakis and a short sleeved red shirt as he moved around the body. Skinny and tall, he had dark hair and highly intelligent eyes.
“Hey, Jedi. Did you get a picture of that?” Luke gestured at the wall.
“Yeah. Creepy, right?” Jedi closed the distance between them. “I’m sorry about the arrest. I feel bad that I told them who the print belonged to.”
Luke held his hand up. “It’s okay. You were just doing your job. I understand.”
“Thank you. I knew it couldn’t be you. But I had to turn it over. I have no idea how your print got there.”
“Me, neither. But strange is what we deal with. Right?”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Jedi’s gaze went past Luke to Sorcha. “You must be the new partner.”
“Sorcha O’Malley.” She held her gloved hand out toward him.
He shook her hand. “Welcome to the madness.”
“I think I was already there. New Orleans broke me in well.”
“Bet it did.” Bernadette moved closer to the poor student whose final repose was highlighted on the ground with a bright yellow marker. “Were you able to ID the victim?”
Jedi sighed. “Leanne Fields. Nineteen. I’m really tired of photographing kids. Catch this asshole and stop the bloodshed.”
“We’re trying”
Sorcha turned at the sound of a deep, masculine voice behind her to see a handsome man in his early thirties.
Dressed black on black, he was an intimidating sight. Or he would have been had he stood beside any man other than Luke.
His short black hair had a bit of a spike to it, and he held an air of blunt confidence that was sexy and calm.
He offered her a charming grin. “Detective Rory Corvan, Savannah Homicide.” His gaze dipped to her badge and he chuckled. “So you’re with the zoo crew. You poor thing.”
“Give it a rest, Corvan.” Luke stepped past him. “She likes our kind of crazy.”
“If you say so.” Rory approached the student so that he could examine the scene. “Looks like this one was killed here.”
Jedi nodded. “That’s the theory I’m going with. Just waiting on Berta to agree when she gets here.”
“Berta?” Sorcha asked.
“Blood splatter expert,” Rory said.
That was a job she didn’t envy.
Nor did she envy theirs at the moment.
Jedi stifled a yawn as he met with Rory. “Aside from the fact that they’re both students and torn apart, this is totally different from the last one.”
“How so?” Rory asked.
“For one thing, this perp is definitely human and not some kind of animal. Someone very large and very strong.” Crouching on the ground, he lifted the student’s chin.
“These cuts came from a sharp object, probably a knife. Granted, they’re similar to the animal attack, but this is definitely made by a weapon and not fangs or claws. ”
Scowling, Rory knelt on the ground and took the poor kid’s hand in his. “What’s this?”
Jedi shrugged. “Not sure. I wasn’t going to remove it until I was in the lab, but if you want, it’s your crime scene.”
Rory gently uncurled the bloody fingers to show a small silver pendant. No doubt it was a memento she’d snatched from her attacker.
Arching a brow, Rory turned back toward Luke. “Don’t you wear one of these?”
Moving to his side, Luke took it from his hand. “My pendant vanished a few days ago. No idea how. And this is a heptagram. Mine’s a hexagram.”
Suspicion darkened Rory’s eyes as he rose to his feet. “What’s the difference?”
“Mine’s six-pointed. That has seven. Hence the whole hepta versus hexa. Big difference between them.”
Rory appeared very skeptical. “If you say so.”