“It’s gone.” A warm hand stroked across her neck, the skin unusually soft for a man. She remained still, not able to see who was in control.
“Yes, that’s the point.” She stepped back from Rex’s palm, unsure of her feelings. Butterflies attacked her stomach, a confusing reaction considering he wasn’t usually her type. Yes, she found him fairly attractive, but the reaction she felt was more than just attraction. It was an intense longing, like she couldn’t breathe unless he was beside her. She had never felt like that with anyone, was confused by it. Lust, yes, endless desire? No. That’s what worried her.
She swallowed, Rex’s eyes following the movement. That was the problem with dominant shifters, you never knew if you were prey or not.
Her libido didn’t seem to care.
“So are we going?” she asked, distracting him, or maybe it was herself. With a slow nod he turned away, assuming she would follow.
Chapter 9
The nightclub looked creepy in the daylight, just a drab grey building with black painted windows, more like a drug den than the upscale Breed club she knew to be hidden inside.
White and blue police tape blocked them from entering the shadowed opening to the side. Alice hesitated at the tape, staring at the array of police officers talking animatedly to one another. One took a photograph behind a dumpster, the flash momentarily washing the alley in white.
“Excuse me,” someone asked, stepping around them so they could bend beneath the tape. Alice automatically moved out the way, her eyes fixated on the ‘coroner’ embroidery on their black jumpsuits.
“Shit.” Rex widened his stance, folding his arms over his chest. “What are they doing here?”
“I don’t know.” Alice tried to peer down the alley, the police officers blocking everything. “Can you see anything?”
“No civilians,” a man barked.
Alice spun towards the voice. “Excuse me?”
“I said no civilians.” The man tapped his pen to the white notebook clutched in his hands. “You should move along now.”
“What happened?” Rex asked, his body language closed off.
“Are you, or are you not a civilian?” The man absently tapped the breast of his shirt, scowling when he realised the shirt had no pockets as if he was used to wearing a coat or jacket.
“I’m Agent Alice Skye from...”
“With S.I.?” he frowned, turning towards the alley. “Hey, who called the freaks in?”
“No one called us,” she interrupted, grinding her molars. “We were just passing by.”
“Hmmm,” he gawked at her, taking in her blonde hair and height. “You don’t look like a Paladin.” He glared at Rex. “You don’t look like one either.”
“Well, what do we look like Officer?”
“It’s Detective, Detective O’Neil.”
“Fine, Detective. Would you rather just tell us what’s happened or do I call this in and officially report it?”
“You can’t do that. This is my case.” He eyes narrowed as he scanned her up and down.
“So from the coroner’s van I assume there is a body?” she politely asked, changing tactics.
The Detective grumbled. “Yes, you assume correctly. John Doe found around six this morning.”
“Breed?”
“Not sure,” he answered as his hand absently stroked his dark goatee, the hair peppered with grey. “Which is why we haven’t called you guys yet.” He glared between them, his eyes lingering on Rex. “You have any ID?”
She pulled out her phone, showing him the document and ID proving her Paladin status. He grunted as he checked the details. Charming man.
“Fine. You can come take a look, but only you.” Rex tensed, not saying anything. “I don’t need civilians walking all over my crime scene.”
“Okay.”
“This way Alice…”
“It’s Agent Skye.”
“Skye then.”
Detective O’Neil guided her past the array of people, ignoring the distasteful looks from the other Officers.
“Like I said, John Doe was found around six. We can’t be sure, but we have been given an estimated death of around eleven the previous evening.”
“Who found him?” Alice questioned, her mind already looking for details. From the number of men standing over in the corner, she guessed that was where the body was. There were spots of blood along the floor, small, only specks across the concrete. More blood was spotted across the walls, as if someone was hit with such force blood exploded from an open wound, or an orifice such as the mouth.
“The Bouncer.” He got out an e-cigarette from his trouser pocket, slipping it between his lips he sucked it hard. It caused the end light to flare orange, giving the impression of a real cigarette. “He’s standing over there giving a statement to Officer Palmer.” He nodded in the general direction.
Alice looked behind her, recognising the large man.
“The deceased is over here.”
She followed him to the body half hidden behind the dumpster, bin bags and rubbish half covering the male. Kneeling, she looked closer, her breath catching as she recognised the witch from the night before, the blonde who kept pestering her.
“You have a positive ID yet?” she asked, proud her voice didn’t show how unnerved she was at the realisation. It was one thing to see a dead body, it was another to see one that she saw alive only hours earlier. She felt her face scrunch up, annoyed and disappointed with herself.
Should have followed my gut. I shouldn’t have let this happen.
“Not yet.” The Detective watched her face carefully, noting her reaction. She quickly calmed her face, relaxing it to impassivity. He slowly sucked from his fake cigarette, holding it in before looking at the end with disgust. “Nothing in his pockets.”
“It’s clear he was dumped here, but wasn’t killed.” She raised her hand to the blood splatters against the brick, her fingertips tracing the formation gently. “He was punched first, possibly in the face.”
“What makes you say that?” He watched her face again.
It made her uncomfortable.
“The blood specks behind us, quite a distance away from the main pool of blood around the body. Something hit him, hard. There is no spray over here even through it’s clear he had his throat cut.”
“That’s what we thought,” he agreed, nodding at her. “Impressive, I didn’t realise Paladins did this type of work.” He turned the cigarette off, putting it back into his pocket.
“You would have to cross-reference the autopsy but I would give money that it wasn’t the initial throat slit that killed him.” When he didn’t correct her she continued. “The blood surrounding the body is not enough, even added to the initial spray behind us it wouldn’t be enough to kill him. The wound around his neck is congealed, dried. Are there any bite marks?” She bent to touch the body, pulling her hand back when she remembered she wasn’t wearing gloves.
“Why would you ask about bite marks?” He handed her a pair of plastic gloves from his pocket. She slipped them on before kneeling back beside the body, careful to not touch any of the blood.
“The throat is slit to the bone…” She pulled the head up gently, showing the spinal cord clearly through an open wound. “Carotid artery is cleanly cut, all his lifeblood should have flowed onto the floor. But it hasn’t, so my first thought would be he was drained of blood first.” She softly felt along the neck of the deceased, eventually finding a row of holes in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. “His throat was slit to try to hide the bite. Have you found the weapon?”
“My boys are looking.” He accepted the gloves back when she handed them over. He assessed her, it was nothing sexual, more like a man who was evaluating his prized horse. He nodded to himself as if she passed some invisible line into acceptance.
“Yours or ours?”
“He’s a witch, or maybe a mage.” She quickly continued when he raised an eyebrow. “I felt some magic residue
when I touched him. No human could have made those bite marks.” She stared down at the body, most of it covered in tin cans, crisp packets and discarded waste. Hidden. John Doe’s eyes are wide open as well as his mouth, a silent scream forever on his face.
“I agree. I’ll contact The Tower to get assistance.” He patted his invisible pocket again, frowning until he reached up to the left side of his head, grabbing a real cigarette tucked behind his ear. He was obviously trying to quit, but failing.
“You should ask the gentleman I was with over.”
“Why?” He slanted his eyes suspiciously.
“He’s a wolf, their sense of smell can pick up things we could not.”
“A wolf, huh?” He searched over the officers until he saw Rex, who stood in the distance. O’Neil thought hard on the idea before confirming with a passing colleague. “There’s also more blood further up the alley.”
“More blood? From the deceased?”
“We’re not sure yet, have to get forensics to check but my gut says no. There isn’t any trail leading between them.”
Alice lifted her hand up to her throat, remembering the dull pain. “Someone else’s?”
“We’re leaving the option open.”
“Detective?” A young man walked over, his face sweaty with a green tinge. “Mr Sullivan would like to speak to the woman.” He blinked over at Alice, his eyes wide.
“Thank you, Officer Gordon.” O’Neil lit the cigarette he had been holding, placing it on the tip of his lips. “Agent Skye why don’t you go speak to Mr Sullivan. He hasn’t been very forthcoming with any information.” He savoured a drag of his cigarette, blowing a billow of smoke out his nostrils like a dragon.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Hey lady, over here.” Alice followed the officer to the Bouncer she met the night before, the six foot plus man clearly angry at being detained.
“Hello. You wanted to speak to me?” she smiled at the Bouncer, lips wavering when she watched his eyes flick to the officer then back. “Hey,” she turned to the Officer, “Detective O’Neil needs help with the body.”
“Really?” It was almost a squeak, his face turning even greener. “Okay.” He ran off.
“You’re Alice right?”
“And you were on the door last night.”
“Aye. Danton wanted me to give you a message.” He crossed his large arms across his chest, veins straining against his skin.
“D?” She looked around, seeing if anybody was near enough to overhear.
“Not here lass, follow me.” He walked through an open doorway, the corridor leading into a small office. Sullivan moved to stand behind the small black desk, a silver laptop sitting on top. “This room is more secure.” He gestured to the only chair in the room.
“No, it’s fine.” She decided to stand, not wanting him to tower over her. “This your office?”
“No, just a generic office.” He looked around the room like it was the first time he had been there. “Sometimes the boss sits in here, it’s soundproof.” He flipped open the little laptop, the light glowing over his face, highlighting his impressive cheekbones. “Danton does us favours from time to time.” Little clicks on the trackpad, his fingers moving incredibly slow as if he wasn’t used to using the equipment. “So we owe him, he asked the boss to ask around and find out some information.”
“Information?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Aye, he left before we could relay the information to him so we were advised to give it to you.” He clicked a few more times. “Here.” He moved the laptop around, a static image of a man tied to a chair on the screen.
“What is this?” She leant on the table, trying to get a better look. Without a word Sullivan reached around and clicked a button, turning on the video. The screen flashed a few times, the image blurry.
“Are you ready to talk yet?” a voice off camera asked.
The man in the chair just smiled, revealing white teeth. His hands flexed, stretching his fingertips as he tested the strength of the rope on his wrists and ankles.
“Nothing? Pity.” The screen went black for a few seconds, screams echoing from the speakers.
Alice continued to watch the screen, the black changing to a pale pink before the image came back. The video revealed the man tied to the chair again, blood dripping from his lips, the smile no longer in place. Reaching over she clicked a button on the keyboard, pausing the video.
“What is this?” she asked again.
“Danton asked for backup when you were forcibly removed from the club. We found you in the alley with the dark man, just before he ran off.”
“You find the body then too?”
“No lass, that was later.”
Alice hesitated on the play button. “You called him a ‘dark man’?”
“Aye, we call them dark men when we can’t identify the Breed. They are normally from the Dark Court, dark Fae with expensive glamour.”
“So he’s an Unseelie caste?” She couldn’t remember him wearing anything to give that away. Fae were proud of their courts, would normally want to show it off.
“Relative,” was his reply.
“What do you mean?”
He ignored the question. “We promised Danton we would help find you, we did. However, as the situation was more severe than we initially realised Danton now owes us the favour.” He turned his eyes to her, they were a deep brown with a fleck of green. “I’m sure you will let him know.”
“What would this favour be?”
Sullivan smiled, showing crooked teeth. “We tagged his friend. We have decided it would be relevant information for Danton. You will also pass this on.”
“His friend?”
Sullivan reached over and continued the video.
“I think you should start answering my questions,” the voice off camera asked again, his voice angry.
“Fuck you.” Blood splattered as the man in the chair muttered.
“That’s the wrong answer.” A hand could be visibly seen as a palm covered the camera lens, the screen going dark. After a few muffled shouts the palm moved back, showing the tied up man slumped down in the chair, his head resting on his chest. “Shall I ask again?”
The man in the chair slowly and painfully shook his head.
“Okay then, let’s start.” Alice heard a crack, knuckles clicking. “What’s your name?”
“Louis.” He rolled his head to the side, his cheek still resting on his shoulder. His eyes were a piercing black, the orbs looking straight at the camera as if he could see right through it.
“You have a partner. Yes?”
“Yes.” With a grunt, he lifted his head.
“What have you been doing in my club? Dealing drugs?”
“No!” The man coughed, blood splashing down his once white shirt.
“Then what? We have had complaints you and your partner have been trying to sell something.”
Louis laughed. “We were recruiting.”
“Recruiting?”
“For the cause.”
“Cause?”
“The Becoming.”
“The fucking what? A cult?”
“No.” He started to pull violently at his bonds. “You are not worthy, you wouldn’t understand.” He spat towards someone hidden from the camera.
“What I understand is that you have been forcing yourself on people. Your partner has just been caught with his pants down, pockets full of date rape herbs and a dead body.”
“WHERE IS HE?” The rope at his ankle snapped.
“He isn’t here.”
The lights flickered, another rope snapping as the man ferociously shook the wooden chair. His arms bulged, black veins pulsating against his skin. With a screech the remaining ropes burst open, one flicking out to clip the camera, causing it to fall to the floor. The screen cracked, screams erupting through the microphone before the image went dark.
Sullivan silently closed the lid, pushing the laptop to the side of the table
.
“What happened?”
No answer.
“When was this filmed?”
Sullivan had stepped back to lean against the wall, using shadow to cover his face. She was grateful, he was huge, like wrestler huge. His hands were as big as her head.
“Last night.”
“Where is he now?”
Sullivan remained silent, giving her all the answer she needed.
“Anything else I need to know?”
“Yes. The drug we found on him was agrimony.”
“The date rape drug?”
Agrimony was a herb used specifically for people with sleep disorders, or in severe cases as a date rape drug. It was supposedly tasteless, and in small quantities could make anybody dangerously drowsy, unable to fight back.
“Yep, my boss isn’t happy. Not good biz if you have people dropping that shit into lass’s drinks. We have never heard of this ‘Becoming.’ If it is something that directly influences our business we would appreciate any information.”
Alice just nodded, she would need information herself before she could even share any. Back down the corridor she finally found the exit into the alley, the noise of all the police officers loud compared to the soundproofed corridor. She walked quickly past everyone and ducked under the police tape, looking around for Rex.
“Agent.” Detective O’Neil came over, a new cigarette hanging from his lips, the end yet to be lit. “Did Mr Sullivan tell you anything interesting?”
“No, he just thought he recognised me. Honest mistake.” She looked around again, unable to see Rex. “Have you seen the man I was with?”
“Over there somewhere.” He finally lit his cigarette, a look of ecstasy lighting up his face before being replaced with his usual grimace. “Take this…” He handed her a card. “It’s my contact details, ring me if you suddenly remember something interesting Mr Sullivan said.”
She crushed the card in her hand.
“Of course.”
With one last hard look he dismissed her.
Witch's Sorrow: A Witch Detective Urban Fantasy (Alice Skye Series Book 1) Page 9