Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Sorcha froze at the anger in Luke’s tone. “A friend of yours?”
“No. But I know the scent. Different pack than Lawson’s. One I don’t know.”
Bracing herself, she followed him down the hallway to the kitchen where blood was smeared all over. It was bad.
And on the floor, near the body was a large pentagram painted with the vic’s blood.
The werewolf had obviously fought hard to stay alive and someone had made a mockery of his death.
She hated to see anyone lose their battle to stay alive. Especially like this. This fight appeared to be on par with Luke’s and his brother.
There were slash marks on the body that looked like he’d been raked with a pitchfork.
Sorcha knew they were from the claws of some feral beast Luke was probably on a first-name basis with. Even if he didn’t know the pack, he usually knew something about these matters.
To her dismay, Kyle “Creepy” or “Conspiracy” Craley was the on-site ME. With a tan button-down shirt and navy khakis, he was an adorable boyish man in his mid-thirties. A mop of dark curly hair draped becomingly into his dark brown eyes.
But it wasn’t his looks that caused Bernadette to call him “Creepy” Craley.
That nickname stemmed from his obsessive conspiracy theories and fear of any germ of any kind.
Given that fear, it made no sense whatsoever that he’d pick one of the most disease-ridden careers on the planet.
The only thing she could imagine worse for someone with germ concerns would be those who pumped out septic tanks.
In fact, he currently wore an industrial-grade, full-face vapor respirator. On a normal ME, she’d be afraid of some life-threatening airborne contagion that was there to infect them all.
On Kyle, it was just a Tuesday. Even in this heat, he was covered from head to foot in airtight plastic wrap. He didn’t have on the normal gloves they wore at a crime scene.
Oh no. His gloves were thick nitrile and went all the way to his elbows, where they were secured by bands so tight she wondered how he had any form of blood circulation to his biceps.
“He must have been hell to deal with during COVID.”
Luke burst out laughing at her words. A lot harder than the comment warranted, but it made her smile to see such an uncharacteristic reaction from her partner. “You have no idea.”
Kyle waved as he saw them and came closer. He glanced over his shoulder to see where the others were before he spoke to them in a low whisper. “Space aliens.”
Sorcha blinked in rapid succession as she silently repeated those words. Was he serious?
Of course he was.
Vintage Kyle.
“Pardon?” she asked, wanting clarification.
He leaned in closer. “Think about it. Two missing heads… I’m thinking they don’t need the bodies.
It’s probably some human brain research they’re doing.
Maybe experimentation. I don’t know. I’ll let y’all see my other report once I get everything tested and examined.
” Winking at them, he headed back to the body.
She always looked forward to reading Kyle’s “other” reports. They should be published for the sheer entertainment value. No author in existence had anything close to Kyle’s imagination.
This one would probably make him eligible to appear on Ancient Aliens. But the one thing they could never do was allow anyone else to know about his “other” reports that he created for their eyes only.
Any attorney would use those to discredit Kyle’s findings and while Kyle could be exceptionally creative with his thoughts and conspiracies, he was never wrong on his exams, and he never allowed his conjectures to influence facts.
His filed reports were above reproach, and she really appreciated his thoroughness.
Luke walked around the body. “So what do you think, Dr. Craley? Natural causes?”
Sorcha snorted as Kyle laughed.
“Well,” Kyle stretched the word out. “Given that decapitation kills most things naturally, sure.” He leaned closer to Sorcha. “And if it doesn’t kill them, run like hell.”
She returned his conspiratorial smile. He had no idea.
Kyle went to where Luke was studying the victim’s hands. “I can’t wait to get the DNA from him. We should have no problem identifying the killer. Between the blood and the skin cells under his fingernails, this will be an easy conviction when we find the culprit.”
Luke sucked his breath in sharply. “Don’t jinx us, Kyle. Judge Kruz might preside. God help us all in that case.”
Sorcha curled her lips at Luke’s words. She’d heard all the rumors and then some. Judge Kruz was one of the worst judges on the bench.
The judge had a reputation for whining and complaining about being appealed and then she made some of the dumbest misinterpretations of the law imaginable.
Her orders that Sorcha had read often contradicted themselves and showed just how scattered her thinking was and why the woman shouldn’t be near any bench that was outside of Savannah’s squares.
The biggest criminal in Kruz’s court on any given day was usually Kruz, herself.
“Any idea what weapon was used?” Sorcha asked.
“Not really. I mean, it was obviously sharp. The head on both this vic and the last one was cleanly cut with precision and no hesitation marks. Like a guillotine. A weapon that would be rather obvious. No idea what they could use that would be mobile and do this so cleanly. Especially when facing such large attackers.”
Rory arrived and called Kyle over to him.
Sorcha moved closer to Luke. “What are you thinking?”
“Two werewolves. Not a coincidence. No one’s this lucky.”
“Meaning?”
“Hostile takeover. Someone who doesn’t want to overtly challenge them for their packs.
” He gestured at the body. “But this isn’t normal.
Their societies are very structured and they don’t like change.
There is a diehard process to be named Alpha.
It doesn’t make sense that anyone would bypass the process. ”
That was what she’d gleaned when she spoke to Lawson’s pack while Luke had been gone. They’d thought everything about his attack was bizarre and nonsensical.
And for some reason that made her think of a weird question. “Are there many werewolves in Hell?”
“Not as many as you’d think.”
That surprised her. “Really?”
“Most of them aren’t Christian so they end up other places after they die.”
There was something she’d never considered. “Like where?”
He shrugged. “Helheim. Kalosis. Annwn. Naraka. Diyu. Tartarus. Kuzimu. List goes on. Depends on their belief system. Same with demons. They’re not all ours.”
That was interesting, and it was one of the reasons she loved working with Luke. He knew way too much about such things.
Pulling on a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, Luke went to kneel next to the body so that he could examine it.
Sorcha watched emotions play across his features until they settled into a terrifying grimace. “You find something?”
“Come here.”
She moved closer.
He held his hand up. “Smell this.”
She recoiled. “Gross! No! Are you kidding? Disgusting!”
Smirking, he gave her a droll glare. “You don’t have to lean that close. Just lean forward a little bit and inhale.”
Not sure she wanted to, she did as he said. Then she frowned too. “What is that?”
“Caramel.”
“As in the candy?”
He sniffed it. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Where was it?”
“It’s on the front of his shirt. Mostly covered in blood.”
“Why?”
He stood up before he answered. “If I knew the answer automatically, we’d be called psychics instead of detectives. Now that I detected it, I’ll have to figure it out.”
The urge to kick him was very strong. Good thing the smart-ass dwarfed her, or she might have yielded to the urge. “You do remember that I shot my last partner, right?”
His gorgeous amber gaze captured hers. “And you do remember that even shooting me with hellfire bullets won’t hurt me, but it will piss me off to no uncertain end.”
She tsked. “That’s not a deterrent given how cute you are when you’re pissed.”
Snorting, he moved away to scan the ground.
Sorcha had no idea what had made her say that. The man definitely brought out the evil in her sometimes.
Then again, as the son of the devil, he tended to do that to a lot of people.
Sorcha turned around and started away when she ran into someone. As she opened her mouth to apologize, she looked up and gasped.
Remiel.
Luke’s angel friend. Almost as tall as Luke, he had shoulder-length wavy blond hair. Normally, he kept it pulled back from his face in a ponytail. Today, he wore it loose to fall around his muscled shoulders.
“Hi, Remi.” It always amazed her that he was able to come and go at crime scenes without the unis or other detectives questioning him. But then given his angelic powers, it shouldn’t surprise her at all.
He inclined his head to her. “Detective.”
She glanced back at the body. “Are you here to collect his soul?”
He shook his head dispassionately. “He wasn’t one of ours. I’m actually here because of what happened to you.”
That made her stomach draw tight. “How do you mean?”
“Come with me.” He actually took her hand and led her to Luke, who had his back to them.
Unsure of what to think, she allowed him to lead her.
Luke turned around with a frown. “I know this isn’t a friendly visit.”
“No, it’s not. I was sent to tell you that there is concern over the Necos stalking Sorcha.”
“Why would your boss care?” Luke asked.
“I don’t ask those questions. I merely trust that there is a plan.”
Sorcha had always hated it whenever her grandfather said that. God has a plan, though we may not know it. Our time is not God’s time. Faith of a mustard seed and all that.
Prayer was supposed to move mountains.
Honestly, she got tired of waiting. Patience might be a virtue, but it wasn’t one of hers.
Luke rubbed her back as if he knew her thoughts and he probably did. One of the things she adored most about him was the fact that he knew whenever she needed him. Knew when she needed a hug. He was exceptionally perceptive.
“So what’s the concern?” Sorcha asked.
Before Remiel could answer, Rory approached them.
His gaze went from her to Luke to Remiel. “What are you doing here?” he asked the angel.
Remiel gave him a compassionate smile. “Relax, Rory. She knows what you are.”
Anger flared in Rory’s eyes, directed at Remiel. “She wasn’t to know. Why did you tell her?”
“No one told me anything.” Not exactly true. Luke had clued her in on the day they met that Rory wasn’t what he appeared and that he wasn’t fully human. “I saw your wings.”
Rory gaped. “How?”
“She’s a lot more powerful than your team gives her credit for.” Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “Now that the games are over, will one of you tell us what’s going on?”
Remiel shrugged. “We don’t exactly know.”
The expression on Luke’s face would be comical if this wasn’t so important. “God doesn’t know? You really expect me to believe that?” He dragged those words out for emphasis.
“I’m sure He does. But like your father, He doesn’t always share.”
“Then what’s the point of this discussion, Rem?”
Remiel glanced away sheepishly.
Rory stepped forward. “There’s a major bounty on Sorcha’s head. I don’t know why.” He pulled his phone out and scrolled for a second. Then, he handed it over to Sorcha.
She gasped as she read the listing that was offering six million dollars for her to be kidnapped and taken to an address she’d never seen before. “What is this?”
Luke looked at the phone and made a sound of supreme disgust. “That’s what goes out to everyone in the preternatural world who hunts for a living. They’re usually kill lists, but kidnapping isn’t unheard of.”
Rory took his phone back and slid it into his pocket. “I was looking to see if the werewolves had bounties on their heads, given how they were killed. They didn’t.” He gave Sorcha a gimlet stare. “You definitely did.”
Luke snorted. “Doesn’t this just put a rainbow on your biscuit.”
She scowled at Luke’s peculiar words. “What?”
“It’s butter your biscuit, idiot.” Rory rolled his eyes.
“Not according to Lorelei.” Luke smirked. “And I like her version better.”
Rory’s expression said he was fighting hard not to start a fight with Luke. “Anyway, I haven’t been able to find out who wants her or why. Have you?”
Luke shook his head. “Out of the three of us”—he indicated Rory, Remiel, and himself — “doesn’t it seem off that none of us can find out more information?”
“Yeah.” Rory excused himself, as Kyle motioned him back to something the ME had found.
While they conferred, Luke stepped closer to Remi and spoke in a hushed tone. “Are you sure you don’t know anything?”
“If I did, I would tell you. There’s no reason to keep such a thing secret.”
“If you were anyone else, I’d call you a liar.” Luke clapped him on the back. “So what are we going to do to keep our detective safe?”
“I don’t know. I can feel them watching us, even now.”
That sent a shiver over her entire body. While she could sense the ghosts, she didn’t detect anything else. “What exactly are we talking about?” She definitely didn’t want to see anything like what had attacked her at her car.
Never again.
Luke shoved playfully at Remi. “I didn’t want her to know that.”
“I didn’t want to know that!” Now she was exceptionally paranoid as she turned around, trying to peer into the darkness that seemed even more evil than it had a moment ago. “Will the gun work on them?”
“It’ll slow them down.”
She glared at Luke and that droll sexy drawl. “Could you please learn to lie? I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. My ass is too cute for that.” His lip quirked up on one side.
Sorcha would argue if it wasn’t true. Not that his ass was too cute to hate, but the fact that she didn’t hate the arrogant beast. In truth, she had no idea what she’d do without him.
“Don’t worry,” Luke assured them both. “For now, she’s staying with me. Helly and I will die before we let anything happen to her.”
“Then she’s in good hands.” Inclining his head, Remi moved to where Rory now stood by the body alone.
Sorcha continued to study the darkness, trying her best to see something. “Are they really out there?”
Luke nodded. “Want me to bring you one of their asses to prove it?”
“Not really. A head, maybe. Not their ass. I don’t need anything else that smells bad around me. Your farting demons are quite enough.”
He let out a sarcastic snort.
All joking aside, she was terrified. Someone was hellbent to get her and they had no idea who.
No idea why.
Never had she been more afraid—and she wasn’t one to fear. I will not be defeated.
She hoped that was true.