While she worked, Quinn paced the length of the room behind her. His tension was like a live wire, making it difficult to concentrate on much else. The minutes dragged on, turning into an hour. Maybe more? Becka didn’t feel like checking; she just wanted to get through the pile of pictures before her.
“Hold on, Hamish,” Caeda said. “Can you bring up the autopsy photos from the past three months?”
“What are you looking for?” he asked, even while pulling up the files.
“I want Becka to look at them to screen for Shadow-Dweller glyph signs,” Caeda said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to check.
“We’ve been looking through the cases the chief handed over. Don’t you think they’ve been vetted?”
Caeda shrugged. “I’d hate to miss something, wouldn’t you?”
Ted answered her with a brooding frown and glanced toward Quinn to see if he would overrule Caeda’s request.
“It’s a smart move,” Quinn said.
“All species?” Hamish asked her.
“I don’t see why not,” Caeda replied. “Never hurts to rule things out. Just flip through them. That okay with you, Becka?”
Sure, what’s a few more dead bodies? “Go ahead.”
Hamish obliged, but this time there were no case files. No names read aloud. No details. Just sterile images of bodies taken with high-contrast lighting on metal tables. The pictures flashed by on the screen, one by one. Becka would shake her head, and he’d display the next one. After a few dozen, Becka stood and walked toward the screen and started swiping through the visuals herself. Faster, and then faster still.
“There are so many,” Becka whispered.
“These are deaths from all causes,” Hamish replied.
“It’s a big city,” Quinn said. He’d come to stand next to her without her noticing.
She was going so fast, Becka was onto the next image when the patterns registered in her brain. She swiped back, leaning closer. The body was covered with what looked like burn marks; not much skin had been left untouched. But there, in the middle of the remaining pristine skin, was a series of glyphs.
“There.” Becka pointed. Then she used the stylus to draw over the image on the display.
“That’s not much of a pattern. Are you sure?” Quinn asked.
“It’s them,” Becka replied.
“Curious,” Hamish said. “This is Sam Harlan. He died in a structure fire. Suspected arson, but no further details. Human. There’s some indication that the building was held by a shell corporation. The corporation’s principals were forgeries. Assumed identities from youths who’d died decades earlier.”
“That makes little sense,” Nikkita said. “Why would Shadow-Dwellers target humans?”
“Maybe they saw something they shouldn’t?” Caeda replied. “Or got in the way, like Luce did?” She turned back to Becka. “Can you keep going?”
Becka nodded and then continued the gruesome work. Two hours later they had another eight victims who were assumed connected to Shadow-Dweller activity in the city. Three of which were human, and surprisingly, the other five were shifter. Hamish made quick work of adding the new finds to the timeline. With the additions, the time between kills moved to at least once every two weeks.
After finishing Hamish’s list, Becka slumped back in a chair, taking in all the death. Things certainly seemed worse than she’d imagined. Was it a good thing she was here to help find and stop Mimir? Did she stand a chance against the bloodthirsty fae committing these murders?
“Good job, everyone,” Quinn announced. “Let’s call it for tonight and meet back here first thing to divvy up the next steps.”
There was a general, if muted, consensus. Nikkita, Hamish, and Ted all headed out.
Caeda clapped Quinn on the shoulder. “Congrats for the lead role on the case. Now, who gets to tell Elowen the good news about the extra bodies?” Caeda asked.
“That inglorious honor falls to me, unless you’d rather?” Quinn arched a brow. “It’s your discovery.”
Caeda lifted her chin. “Don’t mind if I do. Besides, this one needs a ride home.” She nodded towards Becka. “Good work today.”
“Thanks,” Becka replied.
With that, Caeda strode out of the room.
“She’s right, it’s been a long day. You ready to head out?” Quinn asked.
Palpable tension still hung in the air between them. Becka knew the wins from the day didn’t absolve her withholding of information on the case or his subsequent loss of trust. She had to heal the rift between them.
Becka pushed herself to her feet, the weariness of the day a dull ache which had settled in her shoulders. She slung her bag over her shoulder, and they closed the door to the war room behind them. “I am so ready. You driving?”
Quinn frowned, but she’d earned a slight smile. “Can you even drive?”
She followed him through the office, noticing there was still a light shift of enforcers on duty. “I have a phone, so I can order transport with the best of them.”
He shook his head. “Then I’m driving.”
The banter settled her spirit just a little and gave her hope for a return to normalcy between them. Yet when they got into the car, they both fell silent.
Chapter 7
When Becka’s phone rang, she dug it out of her bag.
“Who is it?” Quinn asked.
“Brent, my father’s head of security,” Becka said, and then answered the call. “Hey Brent, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Good evening, Lady Becka, I trust all is well?”
“Just spending my first day as an enforcer looking at pictures of dead bodies. Is everything okay with my dad?” Her memory of his poisoning flashed before her eyes. Had something happened?
A beat passed before he replied. “I’m glad to hear you’re keeping busy. All is quiet here at House Rowan. Your father is well.”
Becka let out a breath. “Good. Did you hear we found Alvilda today?”
“Yes, Chief Elowen contacted Duchess Maura a couple of hours ago with the news. I suppose it’s not unexpected, but still regrettable. But that’s not why I called.”
A sinking feeling rolled over Becka, lodging in her stomach. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been trying to reach Saige. Normally she checks in every day with a report on what she’s learned. But she missed today, and her phone isn’t picking up.”
Becka glanced at Quinn, who’d heard the entire call. His expression was grim. He wordlessly adjusted their route, and she felt the vehicle speed up.
“I saw her this morning, fresh in from hunting around for information all night long. She likely slept for a while, but I’d think she’d be up by now. She’s been out at all hours, so maybe she just caught up on her sleep? Quinn and I are on our way back to the townhome right now, so we can check in on her for you.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“I’ll call you back either way,” Becka replied, and then hung up.
Over the week they’d been back in the city, Saige hadn’t spoken about her fallen packmate Luce once. Becka had tried to be available to talk, but Saige’s sole focus was on hunting down Luce’s killer. She couldn’t blame her. For the months Becka had been at Rowan Manor, Luce and Saige had been not only her favored guards, but also fast friends.
Becka almost wished she hadn’t encouraged Saige to come with them, but she’d rather know what she was up to, and she couldn’t blame Saige for her single-minded determination. In truth, Becka had continued to blame herself for Luce’s death and her inability to find and stop Mimir sooner.
Hopefully Saige was all right.
“I trust you heard all of that?” she asked.
“I did. The vehicle is at max speed. I could override it, but then I’d have to file paperwork for the variance. I bet you’re right and she’s still asleep. She looked bone tired this morning.”
The warnings from the Shadow-Dweller book rang through the
back of Becka’s mind. Becka gripped her hands into fists, wishing for something to do besides just watching the road fly by around them.
The car stopped in front of the townhome and they both rushed out. The guard at the front door snapped to attention.
“What’s the status?” he asked.
“Who’s home?” Becka demanded.
“Lydia returned about two hours ago. Saige hasn’t left since this morning. No one else has come in or left.”
Becka sighed in relief, but the nagging feeling didn’t leave her mind. She bolted into the house, startling Lydia, who was sipping tea and reading in the living room.
“What’s the fuss?” Lydia asked, her tone instantly alarmed.
“Saige didn’t check in with Brent today. Have you seen her?” Becka asked, tossing her bag onto the couch.
Lydia held a hand over her heart, her eyes wide. “No, I haven’t bothered her. I just assumed she was sleeping.”
Quinn rushed down the hall, Becka hot on his heels. He paused at Saige’s door and beat his fist against it. “Saige! Are you awake?”
They gave her a moment, every second twisting Becka’s nerves tighter and tighter. What would she do if Saige was gone? It would be her fault if something happened, because she’d had the opportunity to stop Mimir and hadn’t yet taken it. Wouldn’t it? “We’re coming in!” Becka yelled.
Quinn flung open the unlocked door, and they rushed in. The room was in disarray. Clothes on the floor. Empty dishes, a phone, and a set of keys sat on the bedside table. The bedsheets looked like there’d been a struggle.
Becka could hear her heartbeat rushing through her ears. The room Saige had claimed wasn’t huge, but Becka still walked around it, searching it with her eyes once, twice, three times. There was no place for someone to hide, just a comfortable bed, a chair, a table, and a closet. There were clothes scattered about, the sheets half off the bed, a pillow knocked to the floor.
There was no Saige.
Andre appeared at the door. “What’s going on?”
“Saige is missing. Have you seen her?” Quinn asked.
“I haven’t seen her since this morning when I escorted Becka to the university.”
“Search the house,” Quinn directed him.
Andre gave him a single nod and then left the room.
Lydia stood at the doorway wringing her hands. “I didn’t think I should disturb her; she was so tired. Should I have checked on her?”
Becka went to her and wrapped her arms around Lydia. “No, you couldn’t have known. She might have just slipped out when we weren’t paying attention,” she said, but the words sounded hollow on her lips. Why would Saige have left without her phone or keys?
When she looked back to Quinn, he was on the phone. “Yes, I need an APB for Saige Douglas of the Sawatch Enclave, and I need an evidence team here to sweep the Rowan townhome.”
Chapter 8
Two hours later the evidence team had been there and gone, but it didn’t feel like they were any closer to knowing what had happened to Saige. They’d tried to eat the peanut noodles Lydia had prepared, but no one had much of an appetite. Her aunt had since gone to bed, but from her tear-streaked face, Becka doubted her aunt would get much quality sleep.
She held the phone in her hand, reluctant to make the call, but unable to put it off any longer.
Brent’s clipped tone came over the line. “Hello?”
“We can’t find Saige. We have notified the enforcers citywide to keep an eye out for her, but we don’t have much to go on.”
Besides the threats from Mimir…
“That’s the news I feared was coming, especially when I didn’t hear back from you right away. I’ve already reached out to my contacts in the city, but no one has seen her since yesterday.” The wolf shifter made a grumbling, growling sound. “I wish there was more I could do from here, but I can’t leave Duke Vott unguarded.”
“I’m so sorry, Brent,” Becka said, feeling an ache in her chest which didn’t quite get conveyed in her tone.
“It’s not your fault. Saige couldn’t be talked down from going after Luce’s killer. In her shoes, I would have done the same. Have you found any leads?”
“No. It looks like there was a scuffle in her room. That or she sleeps like a wildcat.”
“That could go either way; she wasn’t known for being tidy. Is her phone missing?”
“No, it was left in her room, and the enforcers took it to analyze. It’s encrypted, so it might take a while for them to see what she had on it.”
He sighed with relief. “Saige always kept notes on it locally, never in the cloud. As her boss, I allowed it, but only with the understanding that she shares her passcodes with me. I’ll send them to you. Perhaps she has something useful in there?”
Becka let out a breath. At least that’d be something for them to go on. “Thank you, Brent. I hope her notes can give us some clues.”
“If I hear anything, I’ll let you know. Please do the same.”
“Will do,” Becka replied, hanging up.
She slumped back into the couch, the intensity of the day washing over her. The scope of the Shadow-Dwellers’ organization was well beyond what Becka had anticipated. She wasn’t just on board to help bring down Mimir, but potentially the entire consortium of Shadow-Dweller business entities. Becka felt out of her depth.
Quinn walked into the room and leaned against the doorframe. “How’s Brent?”
“No news on his end, but he’s sending me Saige’s passcodes, so that might help us find her. Can we get access to her phone?”
“That won’t be a problem. We can send the codes over to the night shift and see what they come up with by morning.”
Becka shot up off the couch, ignoring the wobble she had once upright. “Saige might not even survive the night!”
Quinn closed the gap between them and placed his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “It’d already been a long day before we discovered she was missing. Here you are, barely keeping yourself upright. While you sleep, the night shift will comb through evidence they took from her room and canvass the streets. No doubt by morning there will be something for us to follow up on. You never know. She might have snuck out all on her own, too. Whatever we find out, you’ll be better able to help if you’re rested.”
He was right, but she didn’t have to like it. Becka noted he hadn’t argued her point. She felt powerless to help Saige.
“You don’t even look tired,” Becka sulked.
“I’m House Oak. We’re built for this kind of punishment.” He smiled at her, but it was a sad smile. “C’mon, up to bed with you.”
He turned Becka toward the hall and marched her up the stairs, his hand on the small of her back as they walked to her room. Oriani heard them approaching and stood at the top of the stairs, mewling for her to come to bed.
“You know you can go to bed without me, right?” Becka asked the cat.
He stared at her and blinked in silence and then trotted along beside her down the hall to her room.
Quinn walked her to her door, opened it for her, and then glanced around the room, his chest brushing against her arm. “It’s clear. We added a sensor on the window in case someone tries to get in that way.”
Becka turned and touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Quinn. I should have told you about the messages.”
“Yes, you should have,” he said, his voice a clipped staccato. He paused, as if just then realizing how close he stood near her. Hungry for the comfort of his touch, Becka considered moving closer, but in her hesitation the moment passed in awkward silence, and she dropped her hand to her side.
“I have to ask. These past few weeks you’ve been distant.” Quinn’s breath hitched, and he took a step back. “I assumed it was because of concerns over your magic harming me. Now I suspect it had more to do with keeping your secrets?”
Becka held his gaze. “It’s true. I didn’t know how to keep it from you, so I kept my distance.”
His shoulders sank, and his wounded look hit her square in the gut. She wanted Quinn to trust her. What could she do to repair this rift between them she’d created?
“If you need anything, I’ll be next door.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he turned and left, the absence of his warmth an echoing ache in her heart.
Becka shut her door and tore off her uniform, throwing on a comfy tank top and shorts to sleep in. Oriani sat perched on the bed, waiting for her to lie down so he could begin his ceremonial kneading. She flicked off the light and sank under the covers. The cat followed her, tucking her in as he kneaded in a ring around her body.
What would she do if Saige was actually missing? Or dead? What could she do, besides what she was already doing? Her thoughts ate at her, keeping her from sleep.
In her dream, Becka reached for Saige’s hand, but it just kept slipping further and further out of reach. She ran down the city streets under a full moon, her breath ragged, like a vice pressing against her chest. Becka ran into a puddle and stopped, the flickering of a streetlight turning the liquid a deep crimson. A scraping noise made her look up to see the words FIND ME written in the same deep-red liquid written on the brick walls around her.
A touch on her shoulder sent Becka sitting straight up in bed, yelling “No!” Her heart sped like she’d been running a marathon.
Oriani huffed and ran, hiding under the bed. Her door flung open as Quinn rushed into the room. He turned on the lights for a moment, blinding Becka, before turning them off again, but it was long enough to see he was only wearing his flannel pants. He shut the door and joined Becka on the bed, his reassuring touch around her shoulders.
“Bad dream?” he whispered.
Becka nodded, although she didn’t think he needed the confirmation. “Just… catching… my breath,” she gulped. Moonlight shone through the window, which, with their fae-touched vision, was plenty of light to see by.
Shadow Underground: A Romantic Urban Fantasy Murder Mystery (The Shadow Series Book 3) Page 7