The Dead, the Damned, and the Forgotten Page 3

  I paused with my foot on the bottom step leading up to the front porch. The wooden board was warped from age and covered in peeling white paint that crunched under my running shoe. “We’re looking for any sign of a struggle. Also, look for Bryce’s daylight chamber. Was he taken out of there or did he actually fall asleep out in the open in the living room?”

  Knox stared at me for a second, his blond brows bunched together over his nose. “You think the killer knew exactly where to find him?”

  “Maybe. We won’t know until we get in there and look around.”

  “What should I do?” Heather asked.

  “Go with Knox. Help him, but stay out of his way.”

  Heather quickly nodded, her arms wrapped around her middle as she moved to follow after the other nightwalker. I mounted the warped stairs to the front porch, watching Knox out of the corner of my eye as he circled around the porch and headed toward the back door. A mechanical whir caught my attention, drawing my gaze toward the ceiling above the door. The tiny red light on the remote video camera blinked once.

  The world around me exploded. I flew backward through the air and bounced once before finally landing on my back in the yard. Bricks, chunks of flaming wood, and other bits of debris followed me, crashing to the ground and on top of me. My head throbbed and there was an annoying ringing in my ears. A hundred different pains radiated through my body. Groaning, I rolled over onto my side to find most of the house in the yard with me, while what remained on the foundation was engulfed in flames. So much for our investigation.

  Reaching out with my powers, I searched for Knox. He was still alive, but his thoughts were consumed with terror. He was on fire. Pushing to my feet, I ran as fast as my protesting body would allow. My vision blurred as I ran around the side of the house, blood flowing into my left eye from a gash on my forehead.

  I found Knox rolling on the ground, struggling to put out the fire on his right arm and on his pant legs. Panic overwhelmed him. With a wave of my hand, the fire immediately went out, but he continued to roll. Kneeling next to him, I grabbed his shoulders and forced him to sit up.

  “Fire! I’m burning! Please! Stop it! Help!” Knox babbled desperately, still trying to pat his legs.

  “The fire’s out!” I shouted at him, giving him a hard shake.

  The nightwalker blinked a couple times before his gaze focused on me. His whole body was trembling, and tears had begun to streak down his cut, bloody face. Some distant part of me could understand his fears. Most nightwalkers burned so easily, like dry kindling, and the moment Knox had caught fire he was sure that he was dead. And maybe he would have been if I hadn’t been here to control the fire.

  “You’re going to be okay,” I murmured, relaxing my hold on his shoulders. My stomach twisted at the feeling of him shaking violently in my hands. Knox nodded his head slowly and looked down at the palms of his hands. They were blistered and burned from where he had tried to beat the fire out. “It could be worse,” I announced, drawing his gaze up to my face. “The fire could have started at your crotch.”

  “You’re sick,” he snapped. He scowled at me, which was better than the terror that had gripped him earlier. “What happened?”

  “A bomb.”

  “No kidding. I mean, what set it off?”

  That was the real question. I wagged my eyebrows at him once before pushing to my feet.

  “Where’s Heather?” I asked as I helped Knox rise as well. We found her lying dead a few feet away from where Knox had landed. A brick from the house had crushed the back of her skull, splattering her brains. There was no recovering from such a wound in our world. She was gone so quickly, and only because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  This was not going to go over well with Justin. First, a member of his family is murdered by some unknown killer. Then a second member is killed while kindly helping me in the investigation. If I had any sense, I would have sent her away, but as a member of the Ravana family, she had a right to be there as well.

  The cry of a fire engine off in the distance seeped into my thoughts. It was getting closer. We needed to get out of here before too large of a crowd gathered—we’d have to alter the memories of a handful of humans as it was. Picking up Heather, I tossed her into the fire that was growing in the remains of the house. She would be incinerated along with the rest of the evidence of Bryce’s existence and any evidence related to his killer.

  With Knox hobbling along beside me, I increased the fire eating away at the remains of the house once we were in the street. If I wasn’t going to be able to get into the house then no one would. By the time the fire department got this fire out, there would be nothing left but hot ash.

  We were speeding back to the city when Knox started speaking again. However, his brain wasn’t totally functioning yet. “I don’t understand,” he muttered. “Why destroy the evidence after the police had gone through the place during the day?”

  “That wasn’t the purpose of the explosion.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You think it was a coincidence that the place blew up when we just happened to be there?” I laughed.

  “You think someone was trying to kill us?” Knox twisted in his seat, sending his blond hair flying in wild disarray in the wind.

  I was beginning to think that someone was trying to kill me. First the Coven flunky’s arrival, and now the explosion just as I was entering the house. The timing was too perfect.

  “There was a camera on the front porch,” I explained, keeping my theory to myself for now. No reason to upset Knox just yet. “The same person that killed Bryce knew someone would be by to investigate. I think this person was waiting for someone that didn’t look like a cop.” And for the murderer, I fit the bill. I didn’t look like a police officer in my blue jeans and black button-up shirt. But then, there was enough otherness in my lavender eyes and ultra pale skin to make some people wonder if I was even human.

  “But I didn’t sense anyone . . . I mean, I scanned the area and no one wanted us dead.”

  “It could have been done by remote, allowing the person to be miles away.”

  “And now he knows you’re associated with Bryce. If he knew Bryce was a nightwalker, he’s going to assume you’re . . .”

  “Yeah, I’ve got a brand-new problem,” I grumbled. It had now become even more imperative that I find Bryce’s murderer. This person had seen my face. If the murderer knew Bryce was a nightwalker, I now fell under that same classification. As a result, anyone I associated with would now come under scrutiny. I slowed the car to a stop at a red light. We were just outside of town, driving along the Savannah River headed toward the riverfront district. “I think a member of the Daylight Coalition killed Bryce and tried to kill us tonight.”

  “Because of how he was killed?”

  “As well as the timing and the call to the police. Regardless of the reasons for killing Bryce, no nightwalker would risk a human discovering the corpse. Someone knew he was a nightwalker and wanted proof to get out to the rest of the world. This murder was done during the daylight hours when Bryce wouldn’t have been able to fight back.”

  “Then why not a shapeshifter? They can walk around during the day,” Knox argued, drumming his fingers on the armrest. I doubted he actually believed it, but he was doing his job and playing devil’s advocate.

  “A lycan would have the opportunity, but the risk of exposure is too great. No matter how pissed you are, we all know not to reveal our secret to another human. If the lycan was discovered, not only would his life be forfeit but there’s a good chance that the whole pack would be destroyed.” I shifted the car into first and pushed on the accelerator as the light changed to green. “You’re right that it is a possibility, just not a very strong one,” I conceded. “I’ll check in with Barrett and see if he knows anything about Bryce or if the nightwalker was known to associate with any shifter. At the same time, I want you to check among the nightwalkers. I want to know who he
associated with.”

  “You think someone tipped off the Coalition?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, what’s the name of the girl Bryce wanted to change?”

  “Katie Hixson. She’s about thirty-two years old. Medium height, slim, with short blond hair and blue eyes,” Knox listed succinctly.

  “Do you know her address?”

  “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

  I downshifted the car as I pulled over to the side of the road just outside the Dark Room, a nightclub in that catered only to nightwalkers and lycanthropes. A long line had already begun to stretch outside the bar as a mix of shifters and nightwalkers hoped to get in tonight. It was one of the few places you were likely to run into the nightwalker you were looking for.

  “That’s okay. Daniel can locate her for me. You start digging around in Bryce’s past. Call me if you find anything interesting.”

  Knox nodded once and slowly got out of the car. By the expression that flashed across his face, each motion was painful. After closing the door, he leaned forward on it, wincing as it cut into his wounded hands. “I’m sorry about the morgue and how I . . . performed at the house. I—”

  “Let it go, Knox. This job takes some getting used to. I’m not Valerio.” I was quick to cut him off. I didn’t want his apologies, particularly out in the open where any nightwalker might be able to hear him. We needed a strong front or there would be the chaos Bishop was so confident was everywhere within my domain. “Just get to work. I’ll be in contact.”

  “Mira, you realize that if the Daylight Coalition is behind this, there is a very good chance a member now has your photograph,” Knox grimly pointed out.

  “Well, I guess we’re going to have to get this bastard, because I’m not moving,” I said with a smirk. “Get to work.”

  The thought chilled me to the shreds of my soul. I had lived more than six hundred years and had never come close to exposing what I was to the world at large. But now it was a very real threat that my identity was in jeopardy. At the very least, I would become the main target for all of the Daylight Coalition.

  As I drove off, heading to a quieter part of the city, I pushed the speaker button on my steering wheel and said Daniel’s name into the open air. The Bluetooth connection to my cell phone quickly dialed the number.

  “I’m a little busy right now,” Daniel’s voice growled from the speakers of my car.

  “I have no doubt you are, but I need your help,” I said, pulling into a dark parking lot. “I have a lead in the case we discussed, but I need you to track her down for me. Name’s Katie Hixson. Slim build with blond hair—”

  “And blue eyes,” Daniel finished in a suddenly weary voice.

  “You know her?” I was stunned. What were the odds that Daniel knew this nightwalker wannabe?

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you know where I can find her?”

  “Yeah, I’m with her now. She’s dead, Mira.”

  Chapter 4

  A dozen profanities tumbled past my lips, filling the air. It was a good thing that the residents of Savannah didn’t know seventeenth century Italian curses or I might have blushed.

  “Are you sure she’s dead?” It was a stupid question, but I couldn’t afford for Katie to be dead. Sure, I had planned to kill her if she had anything to do with Bryce’s murder, but that was only after I had managed to extract some information from her still-living brain.

  “I know dead, Mira,” Daniel snarled. “Her neck has been broken and she’s been drained of blood. She looks like a gray raisin. She’s dead.”

  I pounded the steering wheel once with my fist and swallowed a fresh round of curses. This was not how my night was supposed to go. I had hoped to have this whole mess settled before sunrise, but I was beginning to have serious doubts. Bishop was going to serve my head up on a silver platter to the Coven if I continued at this rate. That was assuming the Daylight Coalition didn’t get ahold of me first.

  “Where did you find her?” I bit out, trying to rein in my temper. My hands had begun to tremble and it felt as if my throat was starting to close up in fear. I wouldn’t let the Coven take me.

  “At home. Her neighbor called. She got concerned when she saw the front door left open.” The scrape of Daniel’s shoes on concrete could be heard in the background. It sounded like he was pacing outside, the one place he could get a little privacy at a murder investigation.

  “A wild guess, but the neighbor didn’t see anything?”

  “Not a thing. Not even sure when Ms. Hixson got home.”

  “Has Archie arrived yet?”

  “He’s on his way.”

  “Tell him to stall if necessary. I want to look at the body before you move it. What’s the address?”

  Daniel gave me quick directions as I shifted back into first and drove out of the dark parking lot. Once I found the right street, the house would be easy to identify. It would be the one surrounded by flashing cop cars and decorated in yellow tape like a giant Christmas tree.

  I flew through the gears, zipping across town as fast as I could. Katie’s house was just on the outskirts of the city on the opposite end from where Bryce’s nighttime lair was located. While Bryce’s death had annoyed me, Katie’s obvious murder had caused a knot of worry to start growing in my stomach. Had someone else known about her involvement with Bryce and killed her in fear that she knew something or saw something? Or maybe someone thought she was responsible for Bryce’s untimely demise and had murdered her in revenge?

  Yet all these concerns and speculation were pushed to back of my mind as I parked my car at the end of the block from Katie’s house. I had briefly hoped it would be in a questionable part of town so her death could be pawned off as a flash of random violence in a violent neighborhood. Unfortunately, Katie had owned a house in a quiet, family-oriented part of town with its neighborhood watches, window boxes, and decorative flags celebrating the upcoming start of summer. Not the type of place a body was supposed to be found drained and broken.

  Popping the trunk, I walked around to the back of the car and pulled out a black blazer. I quickly tucked my shirt into my jeans and pulled on the jacket. I briefly tried to straighten my hair and wipe away some of the blood that covered the side of my face. Without seeing a mirror, I knew I looked like I had been dragged through hell. Yet part of convincing a human that we were something other than what we really were was giving them a good reason to believe us. And right now, I needed to be able to convince the cops milling around this crime scene that I was just another detective.

  With my shoulders back and my head up, I walked down the street and past the threshold of the house, pausing long enough to wipe my feet on the brown and black welcome mat. As I passed each police officer, detective, and forensic investigator, I mentally pushed the image of my being another detective into their brains. It took a little extra push because my jeans were torn and dirty. There was also dried blood on my temple and along the side of my face from where my scalp had been cut by flying debris at Bryce’s house.

  The process was tiring and the strain was already causing my head to throb along with all the other aches in my body. There were close to a dozen people in the area, not counting the neighbors that were standing in their front yards with looks of horror stretched across their faces. Normally, I wouldn’t dare to come into a crime scene littered with so many people, but three people were dead in less than twenty-four hours and I was beginning to fear that the body count was going to continue to rise if I didn’t find the killer soon. My people didn’t need to be drawn into the spotlight by some psychopathic loose cannon.

  In the living room, I found Daniel standing on the fringe of the group huddled around the body sprawled on the floor. His lips were drawn into a frown, causing deep lines to crease his face. An unlit cigarette dangled from his fingertips, waiting for him to finally step outside again so he could light it.

  The room was a cheery affair in
pale orange with a darker orange acting as an accent. The sofa and chair were covered in white linen and surrounded a honey-wood coffee table. Pictures of flowers in black metal frames lined the walls.

  Katie lay on the floor with her arms folded over her chest. It was strange. There was no look of strain on her face, no fear. From what I could see, there were no bruises, scratches, or signs that she had fought for her life. It looked as if someone had lovingly laid her on the ground after he or she was done with the distasteful task of killing the young woman.

  But Daniel was right. Her head lay at a slightly odd angle, and broken bone poked and stretched the skin. Her neck had been completely snapped. Not the easiest of feats, and it was very likely that it had been done by a nightwalker. Her skin was also a stomach-turning shade of gray that sagged and hung loose on her body. Someone had drained her of all her blood. But I didn’t know of any nightwalker that could do such a thing in a single feeding, and this whole thing felt too neat for several nightwalkers to be involved.

  “Forced entry?” I murmured as I came to stand next to Daniel. We both watched as one of the investigators snapped a series of pictures of the body and the rest of the room.

  “No,” Daniel said, pulling the cigarette box from his pants pocket. He returned the loose cigarette back to the box and put the box in his pocket again. “It looks like Ms. Hixson let the murderer in. There’s no sign of struggle. She probably had no idea she was in danger.”

  Katie probably knew her attacker. She let the person in when he or she arrived. And when she turned her back on her attacker, the murderer snapped her neck with no pain and little fuss. I frowned. I just couldn’t figure out who the killer was or why Katie was killed shortly after Bryce. Maybe they weren’t necessarily related.

  Daniel finally looked over at me and nearly stumbled a step backward. I hadn’t bothered to adjust his perception of me. There was no need, and I had enough on my plate already. “You look like shit,” he whispered, trying to avoid drawing the attention of the others.