5

 

 

My gut tightened as I stared at the Indiana Jones elf wizard who’d saved my ass twice and had some serious magic dust. We’d lost touch after he’d driven me home the night Sylph Tower came down. I didn’t think the elf had a cell phone, but he had my number. Still, he hadn’t called and I never expected him to. I never expected to see him again, let alone at a crime scene pretending to be my partner, of all things. Very interesting.

However, I could really use his help on this.

There was a dark cloud of mystery surrounding the elf that had me franticly wanting to figure it out. I was a curious creature, and I wanted to find out more about this secretive elf and his pullomancy, his elf dust.

“He said he was your partner,” said the detective, seeing the surprise on my face. I needed to work on my poker face. “I would never have let him through otherwise.”

Partner, eh? “He is. Excuse me.” I stepped off the platform and walked towards the elf.

Gareth looked up at my approach and our eyes met. A curious sensation of hesitant trust and tension swirled inside me, sparking even more desire to figure out the elf. He was also easy on the eyes, and I liked to look.

Still, what the hell was he doing here?

Gareth stood and straightened to his full six-foot-two frame. “Rowyn,” he said, in that same melodious and surprisingly deep voice. I always liked the way his voice carried, rich and soothing like a good wine. There was a strange smile on his face. The heavy steps behind me told me Detective Walsh wasn’t far.

I raised my brows. “Find anything? Partner?” I asked, giving him a sideways smile.

Gareth’s smile widened, making his pleasant and rugged features handsome. “Actually, yes,” said the elf. His dark eyes moved over my shoulder just as Detective Walsh came into my line of sight.

“The way the blood spatter patterns... here,” he gestured to the blood on the pew. “And here,” he added as he pointed to the floor. “Tells me there was a struggle. And the different footprints suggest there was more than one killer.”

Damn. My pulse throbbed. “How many?”

“At least four,” said the elf, and my pulse jerked faster. “Possibly more. Three to subdue the victim while a forth did the... cutting.” Four psychotic demons. Swell.

Detective Walsh’s face hardened. “And you’re getting that all by looking at some blood on the floor and the pews here?”

Gareth watched the detective with his eyes narrowed slightly. He hesitated, eying me as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his long coat. “I am.”

The detective didn’t look convinced, but I was positive Gareth was telling us the truth. And it didn’t make me feel any better.

Detective Walsh gestured grandly. “How about you tell me who the killers are. You seem to have a real gift with all that... hocus pocus.”

I rolled my eyes. What a dumbass.

But Gareth still had an amused smile on his face as he answered. “All I can tell you is that you’re looking for four killers, possibly five. Not just one.”

A muscle feathered along the detective’s jaw as he looked at me. “I need more. What else can you tell me?”

“Well,” I answered as I shifted on my feet. “I’m going to need more time.” Which was true. I looked back at the corpse, seeing Tyrius moving around the body, his ears forward as he took in scents near the victim’s feet.

A ring tone chimed, and Detective Walsh pulled out his phone from inside his jacket. “Walsh here,” he said as he moved away from us.

I waited until the detective was out of earshot and whirled on the elf. “What the hell are you doing here? My partner? Really?”

Gareth looked over my head. “Tyrius’s found something,” he said as he moved past me, deliberately not answering my question.

God, that elf is infuriating!

Clenching my jaw, I followed him back up towards the altar to the corpse where Tyrius sat waiting.

“Hey, Gareth,” said Tyrius, his tail whipped about him until it curled around his feet. “What brings you into our neck of the woods? A couple of mutilated half-breeds?”

“Something like that,” answered the elf, making my temper flare.

I picked up the cat and settled him on my shoulders so we could have a quiet conversation between the three of us without alerting the nosy policemen or the clergy that we were talking to a cat.

“What’ve you got for me, Tyrius?” I asked, looking at Gareth. His eyes roamed everywhere but to me as he stood next to me, so close I could sense the familiar pull of demon magic and the soft traces of sulfur and lavender, the scent of elves.

The cat’s paws were cold as he snuggled in between my neck and hair. “Five distinct smells, apart from the werewolf who’s about to be infested with worms if they don’t put the corpse somewhere refrigerated soon.”

My eyes traveled over the elf’s face, impressed. “You were right.”

Gareth’s eyes finally landed on me with an unexpected intensity. I felt my cheeks warm.

“But something doesn’t feel right,” said the cat as I looked away from the elf, not understanding what I saw in his eyes.

I twisted my head so I could get a view of Tyrius’s face. “What doesn’t?”

“For one thing,” said the cat, and I could hear the puzzlement in his tone, “with all the blood and the gore and the fighting, it must have taken all the demons to subdue the werewolf and then actually kill the poor puppy. There should be more demon energies in here. But I’m only getting faint traces.”

“I feel them,” I said, recognizing their cold, familiar pull as I stood there. “I can still feel them. They’re faint, but they’re there.”

“That’s just it.” Tyrius shifted on my shoulder. “They shouldn’t be this faint. The blood is still wet, so the crime happened within the last four hours. Not long enough for the energies to be so faint. They should be much, much stronger. More potent.”

“What are you trying to say?” asked Gareth, his brow lowered as he huddled closer.

Tyrius lifted and then dropped his shoulders. “I’m not sure. Just that the demonic energies have been diluted somehow.”

“Diluted?” I exclaimed softly, my tension growing stronger. “On purpose? To throw us off maybe? But that doesn’t make sense. Clearly, they want us to find the bodies.”

“Exactly,” mewed the cat. “I can’t figure out how they managed to cross into the church either. I can’t detect any dark spells or enchantments.” He sighed, shrugging. “This demon fivesome’s pretty messed up.”

“Can you tell what kind of demons did this?” asked Gareth, pulling the question out of my mouth. “Lesser? Mid? Greater demons? A couple of ghouls and imps?”

Tyrius let out a breath. “No. I can’t. The energies are too faint.” The cat nudged my neck with his head. “Sorry, Rowyn. I know you were hoping to get at least a species to focus on. I got nothin’.”

“Don’t apologize, Tyrius.” I gave my friend a rub under his chin. “You’ve given us plenty to work with. We know it’s five demons and not just one. And we know they’re using some kind of concealment that keeps their demon energies hidden. But we don’t know how or why.”

Damn. I’d been really hoping Tyrius could have pinpointed the demons responsible. That would at least have given us some real clues to find and stop them.

My eyes found the elf and I saw the same disappointment twisting his features.

“We’ll just have to work with what we have,” said Gareth.

My brows reached my hairline. We? Since when was there a we? I hadn’t heard from him in seven months, a week and three days—not that I was counting—and now he thought he could just show up and we could be a team?

“Um, Gareth,” I began, as I spotted a few secret pockets inside his coat when he twisted slightly forward. “Shouldn’t you be tending your shop?” Unless he had a human working for him when he took days off, but I seriously doubted the secretive elf would let anyone work so close to him.

Gareth looked surprised at what he saw on my face. “It’s closed on Wednesdays.”

Liar. I could see the muscles in his face straining to keep from showing any emotion. If he wasn’t wearing a hat, I’d bet his ears were turning red.

I put my hands on my hips. “Why are you really here, Gareth? It’s not the first time a couple of demons made a meal out of a few half-breeds.”

The elf frowned as he took in my question, his jaw clenching. “No. But it’s the first time I’ve ever seen them carve half-breed into their chests.” I scowled at his tone, which only seemed to tick him off further. But I noticed he said chests, plural, so he’d known about the first victim too.

“What happened to the ‘I don’t want to get involved,’ crap you used on me before?” I accused. “Because this—you here—that’s getting involved.”

Gareth pressed his lips together, so I pressed on, not really knowing where this anger was coming from. “How did you know to use my name with the detective over there? How did you even know I was going to show up?”

But I answered my own question. It was Gareth I’d sensed watching me at the first victim’s site. He was the one I’d felt spying on me. It wasn’t the demon killer. It was Gareth. Damn that elf.

The elf cleared his throat dryly. “I’ve been around a lot longer than you. There are things you still don’t know about this city, about the half-breed community. What happens to them concerns me. It concerns me greatly.”

“Is that why you chose to live among the humans? Because it concerns you greatly?” Yeah, okay, that was low, but I was angry. The elf knew how to push my buttons.

Gareth’s expression was guarded as he said, “You’re not a half-breed, Rowyn. You can’t possibly understand.” Ouch. That. Hurt.

I felt a guttural growl trying to escape from my throat, and I pushed it down. I opened my mouth to add an insult, but what could I say to that. He was right. I wasn’t a half-breed. I was a bastard. A monster. Raised as an angel-born, but I wasn’t that either. I had angel and demon essence in my veins. Well, archdemon more specifically, according to the old hag. So what did that make me?

Had the elf heard Lisbeth when she told me that I had the blood of the archdemon? By the perceptive way he was watching me now, his eyes alight with the confidence of secrets, I wasn’t so sure.

“Can you two stop with the pissing contest?” interrupted the cat. “There’s something else I haven’t told you.”

“What?” Gareth and I said together, annoying me all the more. His mood was tense and I could smell his aftershave. It was a pleasant musky smell, and I scowled.

Tyrius squirmed on my shoulders, like he was nervous, unsure how to say what he was about to reveal to us.

“Spit it out, Tyrius,” I said, a little too loudly. Detective Walsh looked up at us from his phone, probably thinking Tyrius had swallowed a piece of evidence or something. I smiled and gave him a thumbs up. The man frowned but kept talking on the phone, his face a shade redder than a few minutes ago.

“Take it easy, woman,” spat the cat. “Before you make me spew a furball on you.”

I exhaled. “Sorry, Tyrius. Go ahead.” I was watching my feet, but I could feel Gareth’s eyes on me.

“There was another presence,” announced Tyrius, and I stiffened. “It was faint, but I felt it.” The cat swallowed. “I felt an angel presence.”

“What?” Gareth and I said at the same time again.

This time, the entire police force and clergy all homed their attention on us. The last thing we needed was the human police looking at us like we were holding something back. Detective Walsh was eyeing us strangely, like we’d suddenly become suspects.

“You believe the angels did this?” Gareth lowered his voice so that only the three of us could hear.

“Angels don’t like to get their hands dirty, especially in half-breed blood,” said the cat, “but I know what I sensed. And it’s definitely angel. I don’t know if they were here before or after the werewolf was killed. The aura is too faint.” I heard the disappointment in his voice. He really wanted to solve this case as much as I did.

“It’s possible the angels got word of what the demons were doing and came to stop them,” I voiced, though I didn’t sound convinced.

I hadn’t seen an angel since that night Gareth saved my ass. Maybe they’d given up on me. Maybe with the destruction of the White Grace, they’d decided to give me a break? I doubted that was true. I couldn’t let my guard down, not until the Legion of angels itself told me the bounty on my head was lifted.

Tyrius nodded. “That would explain the faint angel presence I felt. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never heard of the Legion getting involved with half-breed matters. Isn’t that the job of the angel-born?”

“It is.” I sighed. “Maybe this is bigger than we thought.” My tension began to build. “If the angels are involved, the angel-born will be here soon.” And I didn’t want to be here if Jax showed up. It would just make things uncomfortable, and I didn’t need that right now.

But it seemed my life was a roller coaster of crap because I turned to the sound of a commotion just in time to see Jax stroll into the church.