Shadow Scorching (Shadow Blade #2)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Nineteen years ago…

It was near midnight, and I was crouching in a tree, watching the apartment building where the serial killer who murdered my mother lived. The cops didn’t know about him, other than his name. But his name was as phony as the smile on his face when he picked up my mother for a date, the last time I’d seen her alive.

Over the seven years between her death and the day I tracked down Jace, I’d nurtured my rage, and had dedicated myself to seek him out and destroy him. Even after Dante saved me from the streets, I kindled the anger, keeping it on a low simmer.

During that seven years, Dante had sent me back to school. After I graduated at the top of my class at seventeen, he funded my tuition to a two-year program in Criminal Investigation. I had opened my own business—Shadow Blade Investigations—and now was established in the Supe Community. I hadn’t had many big cases, but I was building my reputation.

And then, Benny—who I met through Dante—showed up at the office one day, a sober look on his goblin-face. We’d never been friends , but for a goblin, he was a decent enough chap. I liked Benny, but he loved money above anything and that made me stop short of trusting him. He knew about my past, because I wasn’t about to give him the space to attempt blackmail. And the best way to prevent blackmail was transparency.

“You look solemn today,” I said, as I dropped the file I was reading. I waited as he sat down across from me, his gaze locked on mine. “All right, you’re spooking me. Why the silent treatment? What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I paused. “Did you?”

“What?”

“See a ghost?”

Benny didn’t laugh, another warning that something was off. Instead, he cleared his throat and wiped his palms on the legs of his jeans. For a goblin, he was surprisingly fashion conscious.

“I have some information you might want to hear,” he said.

“What’s it going to cost me?” Benny brought me tips about cases and he was an effective snitch. He’d helped me out on a couple cases.

Benny continued to stare at me.

“Benny, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

Finally, he let out a long breath. “I thought I should talk to Dante about this but…”

“About what?” My worry began to shift toward irritation. “Spill it, Benny.”

The goblin stood. He began to pace around my office. “I know something that you’re going to want to know. But I’m not sure if it’s a good thing for me to tell you.” He turned toward me, genuine concern on his face. “Promise me you won’t go off half-cocked? Promise me you’ll sit with this news for a while?”

Now I was worried. “All right, what’s going on?”

“You remember Jace?”

I froze. The name echoed in my mind. “You mean… Jace ? The Jace that killed my mother?”

I’d been trying to track him down for the past couple years since I’d first opened my business. I didn’t have much to go on. I’d seen his police photo. He’d killed other women before he got to my mother, but he continually managed to evade cops and they finally said he must have left the area since they’d found no other victims since her death.

Benny nodded. “He’s back, and I know where he is. I was talking to a couple friends—goblins. One of them said his wife had accepted a ride with some guy and…long story short, he tried to kidnap her, she managed to get out, but only after she found out his name was Jace. The freak was positive she couldn’t escape, so he proceeded to describe what he was planning on doing to her. He let it slip that his last kill in this area was some waitress who had a half-demon kid.”

I sat still, but I wanted to jump up and head for the door with an axe. I needed him to hurt. Removing limbs one by one would satisfy that need.

“Where is he?” I took a shallow breath, gripping the edge of my desk. “Did she go to the cops?”

“Are you kidding? She’s a goblin . The cops would listen to a meth-head before they’d listen to a goblin. Her husband and his buddy were planning on taking him out, but she begged them to drop an anonymous tip with the cops, because she’s afraid that her husband would get hurt.” Benny returned to his chair, then let out a long sigh.

“Where is he?” I could barely trust myself to speak.

“Why not call the cops? I’ll give you the information and you can call them.” His voice was shaking. “Kyann, don’t do this. You have so much going for you. Don’t do something you won’t be able to live with.”

I sat there, thinking for a moment. “My mother did everything she could to keep me going, to get me an education. We were poor, but happy. Give me the address. Now. ”

Benny licked his lips. “All right. But Kyann, promise me you’ll think before you do anything? Promise me that you’ll at least tell Dante, or Penelope.”

I still couldn’t move, but I quietly said, “I promise. But I want that information.”

And so, he gave me Jace’s address.

Two hours later, I left a message on Penn’s phone, telling her what had happened, and that if I hadn’t checked in by midnight, to tell the cops to check on me. Then, I headed out for Jace’s place. He was staying in a dingy little house, out on the edge of Shoreline.

As I pulled into his driveway, the lights in the house were on and there was a car in the driveway. I parked a half a block away, then slipped on a pair of gloves and jogged toward the house. As I neared the tiny lot, I crept into the yard and around back, eying the single-story house. It should be easy to break into. If I played my cards right, I should be able to surprise him.

The back door was locked, but I was an expert at picking locks, and it took me less than thirty seconds to open it. I stood there for a moment, hiding to the side so I couldn’t be seen, debating. Did I really want to do this? Maybe Benny was right. Maybe I should call the cops and let them handle it.

As well as they handled it when he murdered my mother? In the back of my mind, a little voice began to whisper. What if he gets away? What if he skips town again and goes on to kill more women? Surely he hasn’t quit—surely he’s been killing women all along?

I eased open the door. From inside, I could hear a woman whimpering. Crap.

“I know it hurts,” a man’s voice said. “But I promise—it’s going to hurt a lot more before we’re done. I guarantee it.” He sounded gleeful.

Again, the whimpering, and I realized that she must be gagged from the muffled sounds she made. I slipped inside and shut the back door as I withdrew my dagger. I found myself in a galley kitchen. The appliances and counters looked old, but everything was incredibly neat and clean. The dishes were drying in a rack on the counter, the tea towels were neatly folded. There wasn’t a speck of crumbs on the counter or in the sink.

The sounds echoed in from behind a door leading to another room. I inched over and peeked around the corner. The living room… empty .

Where were they? I looked around, confused. My hearing was excellent, so where were they? I began to search the room when I noticed a grill on the ceiling. It was a heating vent, and the voices were coming from there.

They must be up in the attic.

I began searching for an entrance. It took me about ten minutes to find the ceiling panel that led up to the attic. It was shut, which presented a problem. If it had been open, I could have easily sneaked my way in, but with it closed, I was going to have to open it. Who knew how close to the entrance Jace was standing.

I found a stick with a hook on the end of it sitting in the corner. The hook was the right size and shape to fit through the ring on the attic panel. In case there was no ladder, I carried over a step stool from the kitchen. I was near panic—the whimpers were getting stronger—but charging into the midst of whatever was happening wasn’t going to help.

I eased the stick up, catching hold of the ring attached to the panel. Slowly, I pulled, hoping that the hinges didn’t need oil, or that the panel wouldn’t fall and make noise. But to my relief, it was hinged to the ceiling and silently opened. A ladder dropped down. I waited for some sound from above that might tell me whether he had seen it or not. A moment later, when nothing happened and the voices continued, I slowly began to climb the rungs.

As I peeked above the opening, I saw a small, dimly lit room, and a closed door. It was from behind the door that the voices were coming. I lightly swung over the top, into the room, glancing around. There was nothing but a few trunks scattered around.

I advanced on the door, stun gun in one hand. After a deep breath, I slammed open the door.

A woman struggled on a bed. She was tied spread eagle, gagged, and her clothes were scattered on the floor. Bruises covered her stomach and legs, and long, blonde hair coiled down across her shoulders. Her eyes were red and puffy, and told me he’d already hurt her. How much damage he’d done, I didn’t know. But she was hurting and he was enjoying himself.

And, there he was. Jace. I flashed back to the cops telling me my mother had been killed. This was the man in the picture they’d shown me.

“Who the fuck—” Looking more angry than shocked, he dropped the camera he’d been using to take pictures. Souvenirs.

I said nothing, just leaped forward and jammed the stun gun against his crotch, turning it on full force. He screamed, dropping to his knees. The moment he was on the ground, I kicked him in the side, hard.

“You fucking prick, does this hurt? Huh? Does it?” I kicked him again, as a red haze began to fill my mind and vision. My heart was racing, beating so hard and fast I couldn’t keep up with it. And my thoughts had faded to the back of my mind. I wanted to hurt him, to hurt him bad .

“ What are you —?” He tried to roll out of the way.

The woman strapped to the bed moaned, staring at me with hope and dread in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” I said to her as I turned back to Jace. “How many?”

The look in his eyes went from belligerent to afraid as he stared up at me. “How many what?”

“ You know . How many, over the years?” I raised my boot to kick him again, holding it near his side.

He groaned and reached for his pocket. I stomped on his hand and he rolled away, grunting.

“Hands away from your pockets— raise them .” I counted to three, then yelled, “ Now! ”

He thrust his hands into the air and I grabbed a piece of rope, wrapping it tightly around his wrists and then bound it to the leg of the bed so they were stretched over his head. He couldn’t move them.

“Now, answer me. How many women have you killed? How many kids?” I knelt near him, staring down into his face. “Do you know who I am?” My vision was clouded with red, and I narrowed in, totally focused on Jace.

He stared at me, suspicious. “No, I don’t.”

“Remember a waitress you took out on a date , seven years ago? The one who had the half-demon kid?” I narrowed my eyes, leaning closer.

“Oh shit,” he whispered, his eyes widening. “Erin…”

“That’s right. Erin Sarasan. You showed her a real good time, didn’t you? So good that I had to bury her in a closed casket because she was so mutilated.” The bilge in my throat began to rise as I cocked my head, watching him like a vulture watching a carcass.

“Don’t—” He stopped, his voice dropping away.

I turned to the woman on the bed and walked over to her side. As I did, the nails on my fingers began to grow and my face began to distort. She stared up at me, pleading. I reached out and, with my razor-sharp nails, swiped through the ropes holding her down. She yanked the gag out of her mouth and sat up, wincing.

“Go. Go to the hospital. You need help,” I said, my voice raspy.

“No,” she said. “I won’t leave you alone with him. Whoever you are, he’s more dangerous than you think?—”

I gave her a look and she flinched.

“ I’m more dangerous than you think. Can you make it down the ladder by yourself?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Thank you.” She gathered her clothes and scurried out of the room.

I turned back to Jace. “Well, well, it’s just us, now. Let’s sit and have a little talk.”

“What do you want? You want to kill me? Get it over with,” he said, glaring.

“Oh no, that’s too quick. Too easy . If I don’t make this last, you won’t pay the price for what you’ve done. Like you, I want to enjoy myself. Only instead of for fun, it’s for vengeance.” My emotions solidified into a wall of ice. Rage turned to a frozen numbness. I was so angry that any guilt vanished.

“So, it’s an eye for an eye?” he asked.

“No…It’s pain for pain. One life can’t make up for so many. But I want names.” I picked up a notebook. “Give me their names. The names of your victims.” I needed closure, not simply for me, but for the other families that this monster had destroyed.

“Why bother?”

Another wave of anger broke through and I leaned over him, his collar in my hands. I pressed the tip of one of my talons against his throat, just enough so he could feel the razor edge. “One drop at a time. I could sit here for days bleeding you out, one drop at a time.”

As he gazed into my face, the cockiness slipped away, slowly replaced by fear. “You really are a demon.”

“Half-demon, but that’s enough.” I wasn’t sure what I looked like—I knew my face had changed—but his expression told me that I scared the hell out of him, regardless of his attempts at bravado. “Now, names .”

He let out a shaky sigh. “Lisa. She was my first date. She was thirteen. I was fourteen.”

I began to list down the names and details, embracing the numbness that allowed me to listen to what he was saying without breaking down. Twenty minutes later, I had a document to mail to the police, and Jace was sweating hard from pain. I’d delivered several dozen little cuts all over his body. They weren’t big enough to kill him, but they were in places that hurt.

As I set down the notepad, I considered my options, but they led to one conclusion. I wasn’t about to go to jail for hurting him, because in my eyes, he was a piece of garbage and the best thing to do with garbage, was to take out the trash.

I stood, tapping my dagger in my hand. “So, Jace. What about it? Any last requests?” I wanted to ask him about my mother, to ask if she had mentioned me. I wanted him to say she had died easily, but I knew better. Even if she had, he would lie and tell me things I’d never want to hear.

“I’d ask you to make it quick,” he said. “But…”

“But you know I’m not going to.” I felt immune to sorrow, immune to the reality of what I was about to do. The blood pulsed in my ears as my hunger rose.

“Kyann—wait!” Penn appeared in the doorway. She took in the scene and then gasped. “Your face?—”

“Penn, leave. You don’t want to be here?—”

“No,” she said, steeling herself. “I’m not leaving. You can’t do this…not in this state. Not…in hunger.”

She and Dante were the only two who knew what had happened the night Dante saved me from the streets. He had been there, and I had told Penn all about it later when we became friends.

“He deserves to die,” I said. “I have a list of over twenty-five women that he destroyed.”

“Yes, he deserves to die, but don’t do this. Don’t let yourself fall into the same hunger that drives him. You’ll never forgive yourself,” she said. “If you give in now, it will be easier next time. And the next…and pretty soon, you’ll lose every part of yourself that you care about.”

“What do you mean?” Her words echoed in my mind, cracking through the wall of ice I’d built between my demon and my human side.

“I mean that you’ll become the same thing he is—a cold-blooded killer. If you enjoy killing him, then you’re one step away from becoming what he is. That’s what makes him a psycho. He embraces torture and murder. He feeds on it. And right now, I can tell you’re a step away from occupying the same space. Do you really want that?”

I stood, frozen, fighting with myself. I wanted him dead. I wanted him to hurt. But Penn’s words echoed inside. I began to waver. “But…he killed my mother. He tortured her?—”

At that moment, Jace broke free from the ropes. He must have been working on them all the time I had him tied up. He reached for his pocket. Shit, I’d forgotten to search him.

Before I could act, Penn turned on him and held out her hands.

“Mother Hecate of darkest night,

Give me strength in this fight.

Come you guardians of death and doom,

Destroy the villain in this room!”

A split second later, a brilliant flash exploded from Penn’s hands and hit Jace square in the chest. He screamed as the magical current sent him into convulsions. As the air filled with the singed smell of hair and flesh, he stiffened, then keeled over and landed on the floor at my feet. He was charred, burned over his entire body. And right then, I knew he was dead. Penn had saved us. And in doing so, she had saved me from turning into a monster that I wouldn’t know how to handle.

“So, what else did you do today?” Penn asked.

I pushed away the memories. The food was hot and delicious. The house felt safe. Murdoch and Jangles came running out from my bedroom to cadge a few bites of food from us.

I took a deep breath. We had seldom spoken of what happened. Penn had convinced me she was fine—she had saved our lives and that was all that mattered. But now, I wondered if she still thought about that night. Did she ever relive the memories? How had it affected her?

I wanted to ask. I wanted to offer the space for her to discuss it. But things were so peaceful, and she looked so relaxed, that I decided it could wait.

“I cleared up some old cases. We have a couple potential clients coming in next week. What about you?” I asked, helping myself to a second bowl of stew.

“Several new orders. This online store thing was the best idea,” she said. “I’m making more money, have far fewer overhead costs, and it’s easy enough to keep up with.”

As we continued to discuss the everyday happenings of our lives, I thought about the lessons I was taking from Devon. Would they reawaken that hunger? Would they free my demon, along with the powers? Worried, but trying to brush it off, I spent the rest of the evening thinking about anything and everything else except my heritage, and how it was emerging.