Chapter 3 Kate
KATE
Iwas not going to think about it.
The Greatwater Mansion’s spooky halls stretched before me, all polished wood, marble, and shadows, the high windows letting in just enough moonlight to navigate by.
I paused at Timmy’s door out of habit, then cracked it and listened to the soft rhythm of my little boy’s breathing and, faintly, Fran’s voice from the attached nursery, singing Elena back to sleep.
My almost-five-year-old was safe with my friend-turned-nanny, dreaming of rockets and dinosaurs, blissfully unaware that something terrible had happened in the cemetery outside.
I closed the door softly, then continued down the hall, wishing I could be blissfully contemplating dinosaurs instead of—
Nope. Really not thinking about it.
The mansion had once belonged to Theophilus Monroe, a descendant of San Diablo’s founding family with an unfortunate obsession for the occult.
I could feel that history in the bones of the place—in the strange symbols inlaid in certain floor tiles, in the way shadows seemed to gather in corners even when the sun was blazing outside.
And in the spooky library that had come with the place, full of dark occult books filled with things I’ve neither seen nor heard of—and that says a lot.
My best friend Laura had once compared the mansion to the hotel from The Shining, and she wasn’t wrong.
Tonight, at nearly three in the morning, the comparison felt even more apt.
I headed down the grand staircase, then hurried along the corridor toward the sitting room even as my mind kept trying to veer back to what I’d seen when I’d burst into Allie’s room.
Her shirt twisted up. Jared’s hands. Alli—
Not. Thinking. About. It.
I had bigger issues. Like, oh, the demon who’d killed Antonio.
That’s what I needed to focus on. Not the fact that my still sixteen-year-old daughter was clearly further along in her relationship with her vampire boyfriend than I really wanted to think about.
Not the mortifying moment of eye contact with Jared while my daughter scrambled off him like the bed was on fire.
Murder.
I needed to focus on the much less confusing problem of murder.
The sitting room doors were open, warm light spilling into the hallway, and I could hear the low murmur of voices. They’d gathered fast—I’d sent Eric to rally the adults while I’d gone to splash some water on my face before getting Allie.
That was something, I suppose. Better to have me walk in than her father.
Still, lesson learned. Always. Knock. First.
I paused in the doorway, taking in the scene—my best friend Laura in her pajamas,
perched on the sofa arm next to Cutter, who looked grim and alert and ready for action despite the hour.
The man could go from dead asleep to fully operational in seconds.
Former Navy SEAL thing, I guess. They don’t live at the school, but they keep rooms here for convenience—like when we’re about to welcome new students.
Eddie was in his ancient flannel robe, looking exactly like an ex-Demon Hunter turned curmudgeonly pseudo-grandfather. Which, of course, he is.
Stuart took the recliner, leaning back in sweatpants and a Rolling Stones tee.
He barely looked my way, and I blinked back a fresh wave of tears as I shifted my attention to my cousin Eliza.
She was sitting cross-legged on the floor near the fireplace, her dark blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, watching me with those sharp eyes that reminded me so much of Allie.
Technically, she’s a student. But she’s also an adult and family, so it made sense for her to be at this meeting.
As for Eric, he stood leaning against the wall, his expression grim. He nodded, a silent acknowledgement that he’d moved the body, tucking it somewhere safe from coyotes and other evidence-eaters.
As for Allie, neither she nor Jared had arrived yet, and my mind was spinning about what exactly they might be doing.
As if they’d timed it, the subjects of my angst burst past me into the room—Allie in a hastily thrown-on hoodie and sweatpants, Jared trailing at a respectful distance with the kind of perfect composure that only someone who’d been alive for over a century could pull off after getting caught with his hands up a girl’s shirt.
Neither of them met my eyes. Or each other’s, for that matter. Allie dropped onto the loveseat, and Jared settled beside her. I caught his eye as they got situated. He had the grace to look slightly abashed, but still took Allie’s hand with his own.
I had to give him points for that.
Bigger issues, Kate. Much. Bigger. Issues.
On that firm reminder, I ran my fingers through my hair, then moved to stand by the cold fireplace, crossing my arms and trying to project calm authority while my mind drifted to the memory of Antonio’s body and the Signum Fidelis burned into his hand.
“Well?” Eddie grumbled, his gray hair standing out in all directions, giving him the look of a mildly crazed eighty-something curmudgeon. Which, frankly, was exactly what he was. “And it better be good, Katie-girl. I was in the middle of a very nice dream about Rita.”
His wife, Rita, was away on a trip with friends.
Since Eddie hadn’t wanted to stay in their empty house—technically, my and Stuart’s empty house—he’d decided to camp out in his old room at the mansion for a few days, leaving Kabit, my displaced cat in the temporary care of my old neighbor—and suburban arch-nemesis—Marissa.
Fortunately, Kabit can get along with anyone bearing kibble.
I turned to Eric, half-expecting him to tell the others what happened. He didn’t, of course. I’m the headmistress of this school. This was my news to deliver.
“Eric and I found a body in the cemetery tonight.” I let that land before continuing. “Antonio Russo.”
The reaction was immediate. Laura gasped. Cutter’s jaw tightened, his hand moving instinctively to Laura’s back. Eliza sucked in a breath. Stuart’s head came up, something flickering behind his flat, emotionless eyes.
Allie leaned forward, her fingers interlocked with Jared’s. “I trained with him,” she whispered, blinking back tears. “Those weeks at the Vatican after the gate thing. He was the nicest guy.”
Jared released her hand, and she wiped away tears as his arm slid protectively around her. And right then, a little piece of my Mom Angst fell away.
“Why was he even here?” Laura asked. “He’s not supposed to arrive until late tomorrow, sometime after Marcus gets here with the new kids.”
“No idea.”
“Does Marcus know yet?” Cutter asked.
I shook my head. “I didn’t want to give him news like this over the phone—not when he’s got three new students to shepherd. He needs to be focused, not grieving.” I swallowed hard. “I’ll tell him when he arrives.”
“What happened?” Eddie’s voice was gruff. “How’d he die? Demon attack,
assume. But how?”
I glanced at Eric. “There were no obvious wounds. No signs of a struggle. I only realized his neck was broken when I moved the body. But there was a mark—a symbol burned into his palm.”
“His palm?” Allie repeated as Cutter asked, “What kind of symbol?”
“A Signum Fidelis.” Eric pushed off from the wall. “A signature mark. Most demons don’t sign their prey, but this one did. Frankly, I’m wondering why.”
“But that means you know which demon did it, right?” Laura asked.
Eric shook his head. “Not yet. We’ll have to research the symbol. But one thing is clear,” he added with a quick look at me. “Whoever this demon is, he wants us to know who he is and that he’s here.”
“Well, that’s never good,” Eddie said, in the world’s biggest understatement.
“But why?” Allie asked. “I mean, why would any demon want to point his finger at himself?”
My eyes met Eric’s, and I shrugged. “We don’t know. Not yet, anyway.”
“Why was Antonio here early?” Stuart’s voice was hoarse, but steady. More like himself. And I felt a tiny ping of hope that he’d taken another step toward a full recovery. “If he wasn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow, why was he in the cemetery tonight?”
I shrug. “Whatever the reason, someone made sure he never made it inside. I don’t think it was as simple as a demon thinking we didn’t need two combat instructors.”
“Maybe Antonio was bringing a message,” Laura said. “And someone made sure he never delivered it.”
I nodded. “Could be.”
“An urgent message,” Cutter added. “Why else would he come early?”
“You’re not wrong,” I say. “Except it could be a dozen other reasons, too.”
“I went back and moved the body to the Monroe mausoleum,” Eric said.
“And I put in a call to Forza. A team will arrive tomorrow to take his body back to Rome.” He drew a breath, his shoulders carrying the weight of grief.
“We may have a lead,” he added, pulling a small USB drive from his pocket.
“I found it on Russo. Nothing else. Not even a wallet.”
“What’s on it?” Allie asked.
Eric shook his head. “I tried, but couldn’t hack the password.” He crossed the room and handed it to Laura. “Give it a go?”
“Sure,” she said, her eyes as wide as if she were looking into an oncoming train. “But I’m more research gal than hacking gal.”
Eric’s mouth twitched into a grin. “Get Mindy to help,” he said, referring to Laura’s daughter, who had a knack for computer stuff.
“My kid, a hacking whiz,” Laura said. “Makes a mother proud.” She glanced around the room. “Seriously, though, it might take a while. If we succeed at all.”
Eddie’s scowl deepened, but his voice was quieter than usual as he turned to speak to me. “Russo was coming from the Vatican, right?”
I shook my head. “No. He’d been traveling all over the globe. A vacation before coming here. His plan was to show up tomorrow evening.”
“I just texted Father Corletti,” Eric said. “He’s going to see if he can identify the mark.” I sent him a pic from my phone. He didn’t recognize it offhand, either.”
From his place in the recliner, Stuart made a sound like the air being forced out of his lungs, and it made every hair on my body stand up.
I turned just in time to see his eyes roll back—and to hear the long, low howl that burst out of him like the ominous wail of a warning siren.