The Dead, the Damned, and the Forgotten Read online

  “So kind of you to say so,” I muttered.

  “Trouble at the house?”

  “It’s not there anymore.”

  Daniel sighed as he rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose. “Did you cause that?”

  “I wouldn’t look like this if I did,” I grumbled.

  “Same killer?” he whispered.

  I shook my head slowly, frowning. “No.” I knew without a doubt that a nightwalker had killed Katie, while a human had been responsible for Bryce’s death.

  “Linked?”

  “I . . . I don’t know,” I admitted, wishing I didn’t have to.

  Shaking my head, I left Daniel’s side and approached the corpse. I knelt down, ignoring the strange looks I was receiving, and bent over to sniff the body. Before I could get my face close to her, I picked up the overwhelming scent of perfume. It was everywhere; on Katie’s clothes, her hair, her skin. Whoever had touched her was smart enough to douse himself or herself in perfume so I couldn’t pick up the individual scent. Only a lycanthrope might have a strong enough sense of smell to pick it out, but there was a good chance that he wouldn’t recognize the scent of the nightwalker. Otherwise, Katie’s body did not yet reek of death and decay. She had been dead for less than two hours. Her neighbor had just missed walking in on the murder.

  The one thing I was sure of was the fact that Katie had been killed by a nightwalker and the murder had occurred shortly after sunset, by someone the woman had possibly known. Katie’s death was too neat and tidy, and there was a lingering feeling of mercy and compassion. This was done by someone who knew her.

  Pushing back to my feet, I walked back over to Daniel, keeping my back to the rest of the room. “Tell Archie to call me if anything interesting turns up.”

  “You think something will?” he mocked me. We were looking at a woman that had been killed by the breaking of her neck and then drained of her blood, but there wasn’t a drop on the pale tan carpet.

  “Like no puncture marks on an exsanguinated corpse?” I offered. When I was kneeling next to Katie, I noticed no puncture marks on her neck or in the interior of her arms. It was possible they were somewhere else on her body, but it was unlikely. It was more likely the nightwalker had healed the wound out of habit. “Yeah, he’ll find something interesting. You might want to also check the bathtub. Some of the blood might have been sent down the drain. I’ll be in contact.”

  I quickly left the house and headed back to my car. This wasn’t good. I had a third dead body, and this one was caused by a nightwalker. The peace in my domain was crumbling around me, and the worse it got, the better the chance of humans discovering our secret.

  Popping the trunk of my car with my remote, I tossed the blazer inside and pulled my shirt back out of my jeans. The night was not going well and it was about to get worse.

  “I don’t think doing a striptease in the middle of the street is going to convince me to allow you to slide on this mess you’ve got in your domain. That’s the third dead body tonight, isn’t it?” Bishop asked from where he leaned up against a tree just a few paces from my car. I hadn’t noticed him there when I walked up because my mind was stuck on the problem at hand.

  “You realize that I’m being set up,” I snarled at him, my temper getting worse as fear flooded my veins.

  “You’re saying that all these people are being killed just to make you look bad so that you’ll be sent back to the Coven,” Bishop sarcastically said, scratching his chin. “It’s a possibility.”

  “Damn it, Bishop!” I stomped over to where he stood leaning against the tree, his arms folded over his large chest. “You know me. You know what we’re capable of. I’m being set up.”

  “And it’s working.”

  Snarling, I took a swing at him, but he was expecting it. Pushing off the tree, he grabbed both of my wrists and pinned them over my head against the tree. He pressed in close so that his face filled my field of vision. I positively itched to put my knee in his groin, but I waited to hear what he had to say.

  “It’s working, Mira. Someone probably does have it in for you and they’re successfully setting you up. How many enemies could you possibly have here?”

  “A few,” I admitted. Justin Ravana instantly came to mind. While he had never made any play to seize power of the domain from me, he had always been a steady voice of unrest. But in the end, he kept to himself so I let him be.

  “Would any of these enemies have a reason to kill this poor human?”

  “One would,” I growled. Killing Katie would be Justin’s way of wiping out the last of Bryce’s ties while potentially making me look bad in front of the Coven. Justin was my next target, and I was happy to take the fight to him.

  Frowning, I stared at Bishop for a moment, trying to suppress my few memories of the nightwalker. Too many nights washed in blood and violence. “You know I can clean this up and get the territory back under control. This is about Macaire wanting me under his thumb in Venice,” I said, shifting slightly so that the tree bark wasn’t biting into my back. Macaire had hated me since Jabari had taken me under his wing five centuries ago. With Jabari now missing, the ancient nightwalker now thought it was safe to make his move against me, and if I didn’t think of something fast, it was going to work.

  “Why does it have to be about only Macaire?” Bishop shifted his hands so that my wrists were held loosely in one of his large hands. His left hand came down and moved some hair away from my face. “Admit it, Mira. We had fun in Venice together. You used to enjoy our games with the fledglings. Hell, they feared you more than the entire Coven. You thrived on their fear. Why don’t you just come home? Macaire will leave you alone if you listen to him.”

  “I can’t go back to that life. I’ve outgrown it. This is my home now,” I said. Leaning forward, I brushed my lips across his cheek. “Why can’t you stay here?” I whispered. “You’ve been with the Coven most of your life. You’ve got to be growing weary of it. Stay here with me. Make this your new home.”

  “And go from being a messenger for the Coven to being a flunky for the Fire Starter? Not likely,” he said snidely.

  “No. Just live here. Be your own person.”

  Bishop stared silently at me for a minute, the skepticism clear on his face, but I could also see the hope in his eyes. The offer was appealing. Bishop had a lot of freedom due to his position within the court, but not true freedom—not like what I was offering.

  “It’s tempting, but not everyone’s master is as forgiving. My leash is not quite as long as yours,” he said, releasing my hands as he stepped away from me. And it was true. I didn’t belong to Jabari in the same way Bishop belonged to Macaire. Yet if Jabari demanded I return to Venice, I would out of loyalty and a good dose of fear.

  “Then all I ask is that you be fair about this,” I pleaded, cupping his face with my hands. “Give me a chance to fix this.”

  “You’re flailing.”

  “Temporarily. I can fix this.”

  “One more dead body not of your own making and you’re going back with me,” Bishop warned, gently lowering my hands from his face.

  I nodded, pulling from his grip. “The offer still stands. You’re welcome here.”

  “Maybe someday, but not now, not like this.”

  Chapter 5

  I was done chasing my tail. I was ready to take the fight to the one person who had the most to gain from my removal. Justin Ravana’s three-story brick house was located on a hill on the outskirts of the city. Its location not only allowed him to easily sense the approach of any nightwalker, but he could watch them crawl up his hill like a supplicant coming to request a boon.

  Driving up the hill, I realized that I had made a mistake in the handling of him. I had thought that he would be content to rule over his family, and for a time he had been, but now he wanted to take all of Savannah from me. For him, the easiest way to claim it would be through the Coven. I had little doubt that he had been the little bird chirping in the ear of
Macaire, telling his lies so that I would be drawn back to Venice and all her horrors.

  My temper was barely caged when one of Justin’s fledglings showed me to the main parlor where Justin sat waiting for me. The air in the house was thick with the scent of blood and fear. Muffled screams and heavy footsteps could be heard on wooden floors about me.

  “Mira, this is a surprise,” Justin opened, pushing slowly out of his cushioned high-backed chair as if he was reluctant to rise to his feet in my presence.

  “It shouldn’t be. Bryce belonged to you, didn’t he?”

  “And so did poor Heather. Savannah has certainly become a dangerous place to live,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “I’m sure your fledglings would argue that it always has been.”

  A smile toyed with his lips as his eyes traveled over the length of me. “Yes, well, one has to do what one must to keep the young ones in line.”

  “And what did Bryce do to deserve the death he received?”

  “You think I had something to do with Bryce’s death?” he gasped, looking honestly surprised. “Mira, you know my methods.” Again, the same dark grin spread across his lean, angular face, reminding me so much of an animated skull. “If Bryce had crossed me, I would have taken care of the matter here, in the privacy of my own home. I would have kept the matter in the family.”

  “So the fact that Bryce had come to me looking to make his own fledgling didn’t bother you?” I asked.

  Justin sat back down in the chair he had been seated in, his sharp gaze drifting away from me to a spot on the floor. His left hand curled into a fist on the arm of the chair, but his voice was calm, even when he spoke again. “I was . . . unaware of his request, but Bryce knew that I would not object to expanding the family. I would have welcomed his fledgling.”

  “Maybe that’s just it. He didn’t want this fledgling to be a part of the Ravana family. He possibly wanted something outside of your reach,” I said, purposefully twisting the knife in his chest as I struggled to keep the smile off of my face.

  “Then I would have killed him, but again I would have done it my way. Here and slowly. I’m afraid if you came here looking for Bryce’s killer, you have come to the wrong place.”

  Unfortunately, I believed him. “No, that’s not the only reason why I’m here,” I said with a smile. I was about to comment on his recent trip to see the Coven when a bloodcurdling scream rent the air, effectively silencing me and wiping the smile from my face. We both looked up at the ceiling. I got flashes of a naked female chained to the brick wall in the attic being tortured by a lycanthrope and three other nightwalkers. She was streaked with blood, and her face was swollen to the point that she could barely see out of her puffy eyes. One of her tormentors was projecting the fight for Justin’s benefit since the master of the family was stuck dealing with me.

  “Who—?”

  “A new fledgling that has elected to join the Ravana family. She’s being broken in. Would you like to help?”

  “No.”

  “But it’s been so long since you took the time to appropriately break in a fledgling. These young ones have no concept any longer of what it means to exist in our world. They don’t respect you as they should.”

  “I want no part of your games,” I growled.

  “But you must. My fledglings ask that you show them what you truly are capable of, great Fire Starter.” There was no missing the sarcasm that was etched into every word he had spoken. A knot twisted in my stomach, and for the first time, I fully scanned the house. There were close to thirty nightwalkers in this house. I had walked into a trap he had been waiting years to spring. Justin hadn’t been building a family; he had been building an army of fledglings for the sole purpose of killing me.

  Two sets of doors opened on the parlor as Justin rose and walked over to stand near the wall next to a fire extinguisher. A smug smile lifted his features at the same time more than a dozen nightwalkers rushed into the room. There was no time for clear thought, no room for delicacy. Each one of Justin’s fledglings wanted to kill me.

  I dodged fists and clawing nails as I quickly delivered as many blows as possible. There was no time to punch into a chest and rip out a heart. I could only try to knock out as many as possible. I grabbed one snarling body and threw it into the crowd, hoping to create a hole so that I could make a mad dash for the front door. I needed to get out of this room and into a more open area. But the crowd bounced back as quickly as it crumbled, keeping me trapped in the confines of the congested parlor.

  There were too many of them. Pain rippled through my body as fists connected with my vital organs and rained on my head and face. I held my own until someone grabbed a chair and hit me in the back, knocking me to my knees. Another kicked me under the chin, throwing me to my back. A cry escaped me as pain flashed through my body. While I was down, a large, hulking nightwalker straddled me and raised his hand with the intent of plunging it into my chest.

  Time slowed down for that second and the world drifted away so that there was only that blond nightwalker with a look of triumph on his face. Fear brought a scream to my lips as he erupted into flames. As I expected, he was immediately hit with the white spray of the fire extinguisher, but that didn’t stop me. I focused my powers, burning him on the inside and out. He howled, rolling off me. The nightwalker clawed at his chest until fire finally peeked through his blackened skin. The other nightwalkers drew back, but that didn’t save them.

  Sitting up, I directed my powers to all those around me, burning them on the inside and out, cooking them so thoroughly that Justin and his little fire extinguisher couldn’t save one of them. Chaos reigned in the house, but it was my brand of chaos. While I burned any nightwalker that I saw, I also projected the images throughout all of Savannah. Any nightwalker within range would see the bloodbath that was raging through the house.

  I am the Fire Starter! I am the Keeper of this domain! This was my answer to the chaos and the threats around me.

  I thought I heard Bishop’s laughter in my head as I doused the last of the flames and rose to my feet. The room was filled with charred, blackened bodies. Justin was in the far corner, still holding the now empty fire extinguisher. I smiled at him as I approached.

  “You were right,” I said, grabbing a handful of his brown hair and slamming his head into the wall. “It has been way too long since I properly broke in a fledgling. It’s a shame about your family, though. I think I destroyed most of them.”

  “Mira—”

  “The Ravana family is no more. You will return to the Coven and tell them that I have restored order here.”

  “Y-y-yes,” he agreed, attempting to nod, but he couldn’t move his head within my grip.

  “And when I see you again, I will kill you.”

  Releasing him, I stepped over the bodies of the dead and walked out to my car. I didn’t expect Justin to go to the Coven. It worked to his benefit if they thought that the city was still a mess. But that didn’t matter now. Bishop had witnessed the cleansing.

  Nice job, came Bishop’s taunting voice in my head.

  Will that do? I asked, ready to have him out of my hair and back to the Coven reporting the good news.

  Not quite. You have no proof that you actually killed the murderer.

  Soon.

  Chapter 6

  Leaning against my car, I pulled my cell phone from my back pocket. My hands were shaking and my legs were weak beneath me, threatening to buckle. I hurt in a dozen different places, and they all seemed to be healing too slowly for my liking. Hunger gnawed at me, begging me to stop long enough to feed. I had lost too much blood between the explosion at Bryce’s house and this fight. I needed to rest and heal, but there simply wasn’t time with Bishop lurking around in my domain. I had to press on despite my growing weakness.

  I dialed Barrett Rainer’s number, grateful that I finally had something work in my favor. With the presence of the lycanthrope at the Ravana house, I now had the leverag
e I needed to call in a favor from the Alpha for the Savannah Pack. Lycans were not supposed to take part in the torture of fledglings. Justin was correct in that it was part of our breaking-in process, and lycans were not supposed to be around to muddy up the waters when allegiance was on the line.

  While I wouldn’t necessarily refer to Barrett as a friend, we were on comfortable, civil terms. In general, our contact was limited to the occasional check-in around the full moon and if there was some kind of problem.

  “Having a good night?” Barrett’s deep baritone filled my ear when he answered the call. The grapevine in the supernatural realm was fast and far-reaching. I wasn’t at all surprised that he knew about Bryce’s murder and probably the explosion as well. Katie’s death would take longer to spread since she was human.

  “I’ve had better,” I growled, pacing away from the rear of the car. “I have a favor to call in.”

  “I’ve got problems of my own at the moment. Why do I owe you a favor?”

  “I caught a lycan at Ravana’s taking part in the torture of a fledgling. You know that it’s not permitted. I left him alive for you to deal with, but . . .”

  “But I now owe you a favor,” he bit out.

  “I need you to get your boys out looking for someone for me. A member of the Daylight Coalition. There’s at least one in town. I’m willing to bet that he’s behind Bryce’s murder and the attempt on my life.”

  “Actually, I’ve got someone here that might interest you,” Barrett announced. I could easily imagine the smug smile that spread across his hard, angular face.

  My feet skid to a halt in the gravel-riddled street. I stood with my back to Ravana’s house and faced the growing darkness. “What do you mean?”

  “Someone from the Daylight Coalition just walked into my restaurant and ordered dinner.” Barrett owned and operated an Italian restaurant downtown called Bella Luna, which was somewhat ironic since his family’s ancestry was mostly German. Apparently, at some point, a member of his family married an Italian woman, and she started the restaurant that has been handed down over the generations.