Chapter 13 #2
Her small office held a medium wood desk that was littered with papers and a framed picture of her with her wife and kid. Reyes was in the process of looking over a murder scene. Grisly photos were on her monitor and the file opened on her desk was a cold case.
“Are we disturbing you?” Sorcha asked.
“I’m grateful for the distraction. What can I do for you?”
Sorcha hesitated as she tried to think of a tactful way to ask Reyes if she knew her brother was a werewolf.
Things of this nature needed to be carefully addressed.
At least that was her thought until Luke spoke up from behind her. “Do you know your brother is a werewolf?”
Reyes froze in place. Then, she blinked slowly. “You are aware that I’m armed, right?”
Luke smiled. “And we both know a bullet won’t kill me.”
Sighing, Reyes leaned back in her chair. For several heartbeats she sat in silence as if debating what to say. “Yes. I’m aware Carlos is a werewolf. But he’s not a fully evolved one. Least not yet.”
Sorcha scowled at her words. “What does that mean?”
“He hasn’t taken human blood,” Reyes and Luke said in unison.
Luke scratched at the stubble on his cheek. “Like vampires, a bitten werewolf doesn’t come into full power until they prey on a human.”
Lovely thought.
“Is that a polite way of saying kills one of us?”
Luke screwed his face up. “That would do it, but they can just simply drink some blood. The more blood, the more powerful.”
Sorcha grimaced at the thought. “So we’re paranormal Red Bull.”
“Exactly.” Luke winked at her.
She had no idea how to feel about that.
“So what happened to him? How was he converted?” Luke asked.
“The usual. Went out drinking with guys I told him to avoid. They were attacked and unlike the other idiots, he didn’t run. He decided to fight off his attacker who was after another target. Carlos ended up being scratched and the next full moon was an eye-opening experience for all of us.”
Luke scowled at her words. “No Alpha contacted him?”
“Not at first. The wolf who turned him had no idea he’d scratched him. Again, he wasn’t after Carlos. The scratch was an accident.”
Sorcha winced at the thought and made a mental note for the future. Because that would be her luck. Minding her own business and wham!
Werewolf.
Why not? Everything else happened to her.
Life had enough drama in it without adding that. And to be honest, she was stunned that little nugget hadn’t been tossed at her already. God knew, it seemed like everything else landed on her shoulders.
Reyes crossed her arms over her chest. “So how did you find out about my brother?”
“Larry Osbourne was the call you sent us to.”
She went pale so fast that Sorcha feared Reyes might fall out of her chair. “Larry?” she repeated.
Luke nodded. “I didn’t know they were friends until his widow mentioned your brother was in a unique club with him that met once a month.”
Which on the surface sounded like any and every club Sorcha had ever heard of.
Except for when it involved werewolves.
What the hell? Literally.
Since the moment she’d shot her partner, her life had taken a header into a dumpster fire that never let up. Every single day she woke up was a whole new study in what the fuck?
Now werewolves.
Why not?
And before Reyes could say anything else, Sorcha’s phone rang.
It was Rory.
Puzzled as to why he’d be calling, she answered.
“Are you at your office?”
That was even stranger. “Yeah. Why?”
“Can you come down to the house on the corner from your office? The big blue one.”
“May I ask why?” she repeated.
“I don’t want to ruin the surprise. And bring the hemorrhoid with you.”
“I’m assuming you mean Luke.”
“Yes.” There was such an odd note in his voice that it actually sent a chill down her spine.
“Okay.”
“And whatever you do, Sorcha, don’t tarry.”
Tarry? Who used that word?
Completely baffled by their conversation, she hung up just as Bernadette stuck her head in the door. “Has anyone else noticed there’s a ton of Savannah’s finest outside?”
“Here?” Reyes asked.
She shook her head. “No. At the corner.”
“Yeah…that was Rory asking if Luke and I could go take a gander at the scene.”
“I don’t like anything being this close to us.” Reyes stood and pulled her gun from her desk drawer. “Let’s go see what’s up.” She secured the gun to her belt.
Sorcha followed them to the stairs.
By the time they reached the main floor, Ryan, Christian, and Yuichi had joined them. The only ones left in their office were the ghosts.
Sorcha wasn’t sure what to make of it as they headed for the house with all the police tape being put in place.
Rory was on the street, waiting for them.
“What’s up?” Sorcha asked.
A uniformed officer came running from the house to regurgitate in a bush.
That was never a good sign.
Rory ignored him. “Just follow me.”
Dread consumed her. Especially when they entered the home where a very loud song filled the air. I Think I Love You by the Partridge Family.
Up until this moment, it’d been a favorite of hers from childhood. Now, it seemed sinister. Even more so as they passed several other officers and detectives who were praying, crossing themselves, and visibly shaking.
How had she never noticed before how eerie this song sounded? Yeah, it definitely was something a serial killer might use to torture victims.
Luke scowled. “Last time I saw this many cops unnerved there was a possessed girl on the ceiling.”
“Hold that thought.” Rory led them upstairs to the room where the music was the loudest and a group of cops stood frozen outside of it.
Placing his back against the wall, facing the hallway and not the room, Rory gestured for them to enter.
Sorcha was dumb enough to go first.
Holy Hell…
Her stomach cramped at the unbelievable sight in front of her. A woman in a pink negligee sat in the middle of the floor, rocking and singing along with the song as if she were happy and celebrating.
Unfortunately, she was saturated in blood…as if she’d bathed in it. Carrie White at the prom had absolutely nothing on this woman.
Lying on the ground in front of her was what was left of a nude man who’d been slit open from his throat, all the way down his chest to his groin. Sorcha assumed the killing had been done by the crazed woman.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Oh no. The woman had pulled out the man’s intestines and tied them in a perfect bow around his neck.
A. Perfect. Bow. How was that even possible? She would never get this image out of her head. Ever.