“Was if she was here when it happened,” I finished. “I think the mother must have been with her. If she wasn’t involved in the attack, then she was at least a witness. Why would the daughter turn herself in, though?” I mean, I knew guilt could be a powerful motivator, but she could get life in prison for this.
“Apparently, she seemed genuinely remorseful for what had happened. She’s a primary school teacher with no priors, not even a speeding ticket. Not the type you’d expect to snap and murder their herbalist.”
I shared a look with Zo. This supported Jason’s theory that something more was happening here and I doubted a woman who bought potions would be the type to be sucked into a witch hunt-like mentality. Not without supernatural interference, anyway. Unfortunately, none of this would help us figure out just what that influence might be, or who was to blame for it. Unfortunately, whatever we found out would likely come too late to help our school teacher from facing justice.
“Were we the wrong people for this? I can’t sense anything and, if it was magic I wouldn’t be able to anyway.”
She shook her head. “We’ll go to the station. Then you can at least confirm they are the same two women who were here. That way we’ll at least know whether this mess is resulting in false confessions. That’s the last thing we need.”
“Okay, that I can do,” I said, nodding and trying to put some confidence behind the words.
* * *
Juliette -
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Dee asked, watching me warily.
I nodded though, in truth, it was the last thing I wanted to try. Typically, I avoided using my powers at all costs. “Besides, I won’t be using my full power. This will be like… flexing a pinky toe, instead of using your whole body.”
“And you’ve done this before?” she asked slowly.
“Not exactly. At least, not on purpose.” And, when it had happened, the experience had been so trippy that I’d thought I might be going mad. Or that I was on a bad trip. But, it had happened. So I was reasonably sure I could replicate the results. And, this time, it would be intentional, so I would have more control over what was happening. At least, that was my working theory.
“We know that death happened within the last twelve hours, so I should be able to handle it without any major ramifications. But it would help if we could narrow down the time of death window as much as possible.”
Dee opened her copy of the case file. “She left her place of employment at half nine last night. It’s, maybe…” she glanced over her shoulder at the open street, “a seven minute walk. That’s assuming she came directly here.”
“We believe that was the case. She had no shopping bags, or recent receipts in her purse, and a camera across the street caught her turning into the alley at 9:39,” one of the officers spoke up helpfully. He was facing the street but he’d angled his body so he could see us with a turn of his head.
His interest in what we were doing didn’t bother me, so long as he kept away any other curious parties.
“Nine-thirty-nine, that should make this easier.” ‘Easier’ being a relative term.
“Yes, yes, your magic is rare, powerful and exacts a great cost. We get it. Show us already,” Terra said, kicking a stone so it hit the wall of the alley.
I shot her a hard look. “My powers are a little more complicated than your whole ‘immortal’ thing. I actually have to use my brain.”
“Well, aren’t you a special snowflake.” She grinned, clearly glad she’d gotten under my skin.
I took a deep breath and made an effort to clear my mind. Easier said than done, of course. Time fought me, as it always did, and it wouldn’t give a second unless I took it with both hands and didn’t let go. Of course, the battle was one going on in my head, so it probably looked strange from the outside.
After what felt like slamming my head against a brick wall for the sixth time, something began to happen. At first, it was little more than a mirage. but I continued to fight to break down the walls between what was and what had been. All I needed was a crack, not a doorway. I didn’t want to travel through time myself, just look through it.
If I’d been able to do the former in the past then, surely, the latter should be child’s play. That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway.
Soon enough, though it felt like a long time, the image of the dead woman appeared, standing in the alleyway.
“You did it,” Terra said, not bothering to hide her surprise.
“I won’t be able to hold it long, pay attention.”
Then, with a careful push, I let the scene play out. Each second that passed threatened to drag on me until my insides felt as if they would be drawn out. My ears began to ring until it took all I had to keep staring at the scene before me. The brutality of it was shocking, but it was currently being eclipsed by my own pain.
The victim fell over and the others paused in their assault. Seemingly shocked at what they had done, they spun around and ran back the way they had come. That was it, there couldn’t be more. If there was, we wouldn’t see it. My breath caught and I released the power. The cost of the ability hit me as the images faded and I staggered. Terra caught my arm, steadying me. Dee caught my other side when it seemed like I would still take a dive.
Together, they half-dragged me over to the car and settled me in the back seat.
“So, children, what did we learn?” Terra asked, pretending not to notice the blood that dripped from my nose. At least, I hoped it was blood; anything else would have been embarrassing.
“The attackers came in the alley from the other direction,” Dee began, offering me a tissue. “They seemed… normal—happy, even. It was the sight of our victim that provoked them. They definitely honed in on her because they knew she was a witch.”
I dabbed at my nose and, yes, it was bleeding. “It didn’t seem like… it was natural,” I said, wheezing slightly. “Their change in mood. They went from happy to violent too fast.” I glance wearily up at them. “And, did you notice? The anger hit them all at exactly the same moment.”
“What are the chances of that?” Dee mused. “At least we know what happened but I saw nothing that could have been the cause.”
I shook my head, and instantly regretted the action as it made me nauseous. “Me, either.”
“Well, whatever it was, we know one thing about it,” Terra began, drawing our attention. “It was demonic,” she whispered, though it seemed more for dramatic effect than fear of being overheard.
30
30 - Consequence
Nevaeh -
“Thanks, Detective Michaels, we appreciate you letting us take a look,” Jason said, ever the diplomat.
“Hey, if there is even a remote possibility that you can help stop these killings, as far as I’m concerned, I’d sell you my first born.”
I opened my mouth but, before I could speak, Jason shot a look my way and snapped, “Don’t.”
I closed my mouth, pouting. He didn’t know that what I was going to say was inappropriate, even if probability suggested so. Still pouting, I stepped deeper into the room, following the scent of death.
The man lay in an undignified heap on the floor at a desk, where the chair usually would have been. Given the severe bruising on his face and forearms, my guess for cause of death would be blunt force trauma. And, since I wasn’t a professional, I didn’t have to wait for evidence to go with that assumption.
“The door wasn’t broken. Did he let his attacker in?”
“Seems to be the most likely assumption,” Michaels said. He was treating me as if I knew what I was doing. All those hours watching CSI were finally paying off. “The windows weren’t touched, either. The living room and bedroom look clean, so it seems the struggle was contained primarily to the office.”
So, either the victim led the murderer to the office, or we were wrong about him letting them in and the killer snuck up on the dead guy while he was in the office. Was any of this important?
Probably not. But these were the sort of things actual detectives like Michaels would want to know.
I crouched down beside the victim, studying his face.
“I know him!”
Jason nodded. “That’s why we came to this one.”
“I didn’t kill him,” I added quickly, glancing his way.
His lips twitched. “I know. Which, frankly, is a surprise. You must have still been mad at him.”
“Okay, I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear that you might have a motive, and I’m going to grab a smoke,” Michaels said, turning on his heel. I knew from his scent that he wasn’t a heavy smoker, so the case must have been stressing him out.
I smirked after the detective and turned to Jason. “In all honesty, I’d pretty much forgotten about him. Otherwise, I would have at least stolen his shit, maybe slashed his tires.” Usually, I tried not to be petty, but I was vindictive by nature. “The potion made my memories of that time a little fuzzy. Why would he have been targeted?”
“Well, I suspect it might have something to do with this.” He gestured to the desk. If I’d have been paying attention, the items on the desk would have immediately caught my attention. Particularly considering that, in the centre, was a picture of me. Well, it kind of looked like me. Blonde, great ass, kind of on fire.
Those were, like, my three defining characteristics. Also, most people don’t look so good while on fire. Actually, even I probably didn’t look quite that good. Had the bastard Photoshopped me?
The result was good, but I was still offended. I mean, the photo was of me from behind and my behind was flawless. Though, I doubted the fire I held always looked so aesthetically impressive. Jason shot me an annoyed look. He was very good at that. Beside the image was a sketch, presumably also of me. This time, my body was entirely engulfed in flames, even if not so entirely that you couldn’t make out the silhouette of a female body. A very naked female body.
Fucking perve.
“You think it was his use of a potion on me? But that wasn’t witchcraft, it was an interfering fucking cupid! And most of the other victims were female. He had no real power. And I thought we’d kept our little encounter under wraps…” I said, shooting him an accusatory look.
“Relax, no one wants it getting out that one of us was so easily influenced.” Before I could deep fry him, he raised a placating hand. “And it could have happened to any of us. Though, we don’t all attract the same degree of psycho that you seem to.”
Technically, he wasn’t wrong about that. so I let the comment slide.
“He barely had two brain cells to rub together, let alone magical gifts. What could have incited someone to murder him? Someone other than me,” I added.
“Look again at where he was killed.”
I took in the pictures, the half melted candles, the sheets of handwritten notes that you couldn’t pay me to actually read. The only thing worse than bad poetry was bad poetry where I was probably the subject matter. “Oh, fuck.” On second look, I realised that his little tableau did rather look like it could be a shrine to a supernatural being that the uninformed might mistake for a witch.
“This really is turning into a full-blown witch hunt. This isn’t the sixteen hundreds; why is this happening?”
“It can’t be a coincidence. Someone must be influencing these people somehow.”
Something just outside my focus had been jumping out at me, but I hadn’t realised what it was until he said that. “Influencing.” I glanced around, as if the intangible sensation would become visible. “They were being influenced,” I said, sure of it now. “I can feel the emotions they felt, left behind.”
“Oh, that’s a new gift of yours, now? You can feel emotions?” he asked sarcastically. “Wait, I didn’t mean that quite how it came out. I mean, you can feel other people’s emotions?” His voice softened, embarrassed. I was embarrassed for him.
“This has never happened before. I don’t…” I glanced down at my wrists and the faint glow there. Apparently the nephilim’s little gift did more than look pretty. “Team meeting. Team meeting, now!”
“But the others will still be at the other crime scenes.”
I gave him a hard look. “Well, if they’re still at the crime scenes then I guess we should let everyone die,” I declared dramatically.
“Okay, settle down. I’ll call them in.”
“Do it while we walk,” I snarled. “Thanks, Michaels,” I added on my way out of the apartment.
* * *
“Have you even slept?” Rosa asked, startling me. I spun on my heel to see her standing wide-eyed at the door. The move was so abrupt I nearly fell over. I gasped, steadied myself, and glanced up again in time to see the others trail in behind her.
“Sleep is for the weak,” I said, my voice sounding more gravelly than I had intended.
“What is this? This looks like work. Were you actually doing work?” Jason said, visibly shocked.
“Yes, slacker.” I turned back to the wall, which was currently a mess of case files and notes which I had taped up.
“Is this about Wrath?” Terra asked carefully.
“Yes.” I took a few steps back, so I could see the full picture. “This is a timeline of all the important events that have happened over the past sixteen months.”
“Are you okay, Neva?” Zo asked, giving me a weird look.
I ignored the question. “After what we just discovered, I think it’s safe to assume that any events that are witch-related were somehow provoked by Wrath. Our encounter with the Eye, and the witch war… Hell, even that kid I rescued. Her mother was a closet witch; he must have set her up to be taken.” The kidnapping could have been an easy way to rile up the witch community, especially those close to the mother.
“And that’s not all of it. Talking that troglodyte into taking Jason would have been child’s play. I’m fairly confident he’s behind that, and he orchestrated the start of these witch hunts. There’s just one thing that I’m not sure about,” I said, tapping a picture I’d stuck up.
“Oh, that’s graphic,” Jason murmured, turning away.
Rosa stepped forward. “Nevaeh. Do you think you could be being a little bit paranoid?” she asked, not unkindly.
I glanced over at her. “That is… the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Neva, I know Tim. He wouldn’t be a pawn for Wrath,” Terra put in, gesturing to the naked picture of him that I’d pinned up. But how well did she really know him? She had never mentioned him before inviting him out with us on a drunken night out. Maybe he had fooled us both.
I studied the picture of my ‘husband’. Getting married was entirely out of character for me, drunk or not. Had I been tricked or coerced into it? Were those deep brown eyes capable of such treachery? I mean, he was evil, but he was as devoted to me as he was capable of being. Then again, maybe that should have been what first tipped me off.
I glared at the picture. If he had played me for a fool, I’d… Well, I didn’t know what I’d do, or how I’d feel. And that worried me.
“Does this mean this is all about you? If you think he went to the trouble of finding you a husband, then it implies a pretty serious obsession. Do you think you might be just a little narcissistic?” Jason asked.
“I’m always narcissistic. What does that have to do with anything?” I muttered.
A knock sounded from the other side of the room. My skin prickled and I glanced down at the goosebumps on my arm.
“Hey, honey. I’m home.”
For the second time that day, I gasped and spun around, startled. Timothy stood in the doorway, both wrists cuffed but attached to broken chains, and evidence of the revenge I had enacted still on his bare skin. And it was all bare—the bastard hadn’t bothered to get dressed before hunting me down. He must have been pissed.
He studied my work with calculating eyes and my stomach tightened. It would have been bad enough if he was working for Wrath, but if he knew that I knew he was worki
ng for Wrath, well… I was in big trouble, and not the fun kind.
His eyes flicked over to meet mine and I froze. He drew his tongue slowly over his teeth. “I think we’re overdue for a chat, wife. Don’t you?”
Epilogue - A Day in the Life of Timothy
Timothy, A Week Earlier -
3:38
Music was playing. Why the fuck was music playing? I rolled over in bed to tell Nevaeh to deal with it but her side of the bed was empty. I growled softly and glanced over at the digital clock. It was just gone half three in the morning. What the fuck?
With a huff, I rolled out of bed, adjusting my boxers. They’d gotten twisted as I’d slept, either that or Nevaeh had been trying to grab my junk in her sleep again. Weird-ass fucking hound.
I wandered downstairs, lifting a hand to try and make my hair look attractively rumpled, not an easy feat without a mirror. It was too fucking early. I wiped any crud from my eyes and rubbed the corners of my mouth, checking for drool. I was good, though probably overdue a shave. That was fine, Nevaeh liked stubble.
I paused at the bottom of the stairs, having a clear view of the kitchen and the hellhound inside. She wore little, just an oversized shirt and a pair of fuzzy socks. She was probably also wearing panties. She had not been receptive to the ‘no panties’ rule I’d tried to implement.
It was also clear that she was responsible for the music as she was dancing wildly in time to the current song while, of all things, doing the washing up. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought she was drunk. It wasn’t that the dancing was bad, it was even kind of sexy. The hound knew how to dance. But I had the feeling she wouldn’t dance that way if she knew she was being observed.
I bit the inside of my cheek, watching her ass. As she moved, the hem kept shifting, threatening to answer my panty questions.
The song changed and she paused. “Oh damn,” she said, clearly excited about the change in music.
Heroes and a Hellhound: Book One Page 17