Connor reared back and slammed his shoulder into the door, the pitiful excuse for a lock giving way on the first attempt. Sha watched as he slipped into the darkened apartment, weapon raised, searching for potential threats. She had to admire the way his stance highlighted his strength. And his ass. Not the time for that.
You’re getting the hang of telepathy, Detective. Not my fault you’re sexy.
“Behave,” he ordered, tugging on her hair to emphasize his point. “It’s clear, but I think we found Corvelli. What’s left of him anyway. Come take a look, just don’t touch anything until we get some techs out here to secure the scene.” He paused for a moment then asked, “Were you getting the feeling we were being watched out there?"
So it hadn’t just been her imagination. “Yes, but I didn’t know if it was a nosy neighbor, or a potential unwanted guest. Glad I wasn’t—” her words halted abruptly as her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she got her first glimpse of the remains.
She’d seen her fair share of carnage before; you don’t move up the ranks of the Sentinels unless you could handle yourself in some pretty gruesome situations. Demons, chimerae, and many other predatory creatures had a nasty habit of wanting to play with their prey before the kill.
But this? This was beyond anything she’d witnessed. This was a nightmare come to life.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The walls were covered in blood. Literally covered in blood. A shudder ran through her body. Gods, she’d heard the phrase countless times, but never had it been true. One part of her mind continued to catalog details that could prove useful, even as the other part wanted her to run screaming from the room like a little girl. Designs streaked through the blood, like some macabre form of finger painting. The smell was horrendous. She took quick panting breaths to minimize the exposure to the noxious stench, but it didn’t help. It coated the inside of her nostrils, her mouth, and she had to choke back the bile creeping up her throat.
“Nothing quite like the scent of death, blood, and body fluids, is there?" Sha winced at how lame her attempted joke had sounded. She sighed. “Sorry. It's reflex. Just ignore me."
"Don't worry about it.” Connor covered his lower face with his arm as he coughed. "Wow, this is bad. I don't think I've been at a worse scene. You can almost taste it can’t you?” He paused at another coughing fit. “Ian should be here soon with the techs. Do you want to take a quick look and see if anything jumps out at you?"
“Already on it. Can we open a window at least?” Stomach heaving in protest, she closed her eyes and focused on pushing everything except her mission from her mind. This was a mission like any other. Gather intel, report it, move on. Nothing else mattered. Except she was standing a few feet away from a body ripped to shreds, carnage unlike anything she’d ever seen. Stop it. What would Luca say if he saw you? He’d tell you to stop being a baby and hurry up.
“You alright?”
“Yep, just having an internal argument with myself. Almost done.”
“How does one determine the winner in an internal argument?” His voice held a faint thread of amusement.
A cool breeze washed over her face, bathing her senses in the crisp fall air. “Mother Night that’s better. Without a doubt, a Mythrian was here. Probably in the last few days.”
Steeling herself, she pried open her eyelids and viewed the carnage again. Lying in the middle of a small living room was the crumpled heap of what she assumed was Corvelli. All that remained was a pile of ruined muscle, a few organs, and bones. “He didn’t have an easy death. Nor a quick one for that matter. Mother Night, nobody deserves to die that way.”
“It’s hard to tell, but my cursory glance leads me to believe he was skinned. Judging by the amount of blood on the walls, I’d say it happened while he was alive and he might have been tortured first. Could it have been Evil Bastard?”
As if Connor’s innocuous question had conjured him, the presence began pushing at her consciousness.
I see you found my present. I hope you like it.
You are one sick, twisted bastard, you know that? Too bad you’re not a very original one. The lance of pain behind her eyes was worth it to hear his growl of frustration.
I’m going to relish your torment, laugh as you beg for mercy and crawl at my feet. Then I’ll let you watch as I destroy that pathetic human of yours.
See what I mean? Vague, unoriginal threats. I know what you’re trying to do, and I will stop you. Firm pressure on her waist told her that Connor had wrapped his arm around her middle. She wondered if he could hear what was being said. Another squeeze. Guess that was a yes. Looked like their connection to each other was getting stronger.
Stupid little girl, you don’t even know what I am. I can destroy a city with little more than a thought. Once Ferren is freed, I’ll have limitless power. I’ll be a god among men.
You honestly think Ferren will have any use for you when he’s freed? Moron. If you’re so powerful, why did you even need Corvelli?
Prove you’re a worthy opponent and figure it out, mixed blood whore. This world will end soon. Your only hope is to submit and beg His Lordship for mercy from the coming apocalypse.
The acrid stench of sulfur and burning flesh filled the air, making her eyes water. Agonized screams reverberated through her mind, deafening in their intensity. Flashes appeared before her of Fire Falls decimated, its citizens lying in twisted heaps. Another flash, this time of Denver, the city burning, bodies piled high.
You’re trying to intimidate me, make me tremble at your feet. You assume you’ll defeat me, defeat us. That’s where your first mistake lies. We’re stronger than you think, you sadistic bastard.
You are nothing. Soon you’ll regret your decision to stand up against me. You cannot stop me any more than you can stop the tides.
We’ll see about that. Something he’d said had an idea formulating in her mind. Gathering her power, combining it with the strength she drew from Connor, she launched wave after wave of a high-pitched shriek at Nightmare. Satisfaction warmed her when she felt the bastard writhe in pain seconds before the link broke.
“You’re insane, I hope you realize that. Only you would continue to taunt that mad man.” Connor’s voice was shaky, his arms tight around her, his heart pounding beneath her ear.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not a complete fool. I know what I’m doing and it’s calculated taunting.” Sha stroked her fingers over the back of his neck, hoping to calm him. Poor man, he had a protective streak a mile wide, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who wanted protection.
“Trust me, I’ve figured that out by now,” he muttered.
“You can still hear my thoughts?”
“Apparently so. It seems to be getting easier after every time you attack.”
By the flame, she’d missed the obvious. “I keep drawing from you and I must be strengthening our bond that way. Sorry.”
“Did you hear me complaining? I like it. At least this way I get a little advanced warning before you do something crazy. Did you learn anything new?”
“I know what he is and why he needed Corvelli.”
He reeled back, shock written across his face. “Seriously?”
“He’s a wendigo. He had to have targeted Corvelli and killed him to take his skin, allowing him to carry out his rituals. See that table over in the corner? Despite the gore, I think it’s an altar. I bet Corvelli practiced black magic; it would have left the way wide open for Evil Bastard and may even have boosted his abilities. Before you ask, yes you do have witches in this realm, both good and evil. Humans aren’t without power, they just don’t possess the same level as Mythrians. Magic almost always originates from having a Mythrian somewhere in your lineage.”
A sudden thought struck her. “Didn’t you say your sister was Wiccan? Is that a name for a witch?”
“She sometimes says she’s a white witch. Why?”
“Just more confirmation you have Mythrian blood in you.”
Connor’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “You’re saying her spells could actually work? Never mind. We’ll get back to that later. Too much to process now. I suppose it’s too much to hope wendigos are easy to kill?”
“Come on, that’d be too easy. Where would the fun be in that? They’re beyond difficult to kill. We’ll need a metallic weapon, a silver stake would be best, and a lot of luck. And we’ll need to strike during the day if possible.”
“And once we have the silver weapon?”
Sha knew he wasn’t going like this next part. “We’ll need to get close enough to stab him, shattering his heart.”
Resignation followed by determination crossed his face. “Then let’s go find a silver stake.”
“One question…where in the Seven Hells do we find one?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A half-forgotten memory pushed its way to the forefront of Connor’s mind. His younger sister, Alyssa, had dragged him shopping for Christmas presents for their parents, and managed to convince him to go into a strange, little shop filled with flickering candles and incense. She practiced Wicca, so he figured its merchandise was geared toward her lifestyle. There’d been a display case filled with knives and daggers, and she’d squealed in delight when she saw the selection. He delved deeper into the memory, trying to uncover its meaning.
Realization dawned. “Corvelli may have something we can use. My sister once fell in love with an athame made from sterling silver. She couldn’t afford it, but swore she’d come back for it when she had the money.”
“Why do you think he’d have one? By the looks of things, he didn’t seem interested in splurging on soap, much less an expensive ceremonial knife.”
His gut, his instincts were telling him the answer was somewhere in this room. “For lack of a better explanation, I feel it.”
Half expecting her to question him further, Sha nodded in understanding. “It’s the Metallum in you probably. Certain metals will call to you if you focus on them, or so I’ve been told.”
How was he supposed to wrap his head around having mystical powers? He thrived on logic, on puzzles he could figure out. It was why he’d been drawn to police work in the first place. There was nothing logical about possessing the capability to manipulate metal objects with his will.
Then again, there was nothing logical about Sha and look at him now. He’d accepted that he’d fallen for her, hard. Her wit, humor, sarcasm, and of course her body, called to him like nothing else. The fact that their connection to each other was deepening to the point where he could read her thoughts at times fascinated him. Part of him wished she’d stay out of danger, particularly since they seemed to be dropping further and further into it, but he wouldn’t change her personality to keep his piece of mind.
He could, however, work on convincing her to stop goading a psychopath to strike out at her.
“Sha, come here for a sec,” he called, watching as she rose from where she’d been looking through a box beneath the makeshift altar.
“Yes?”
She’d stopped a foot or so away from him. Too far for his liking. Reaching for her wrist, he tugged, pulling her close. “Explain to me why you feel the constant need to push the murderous psycho into targeting you.”
“He’d already targeted me; I’m showing him he can’t scare me.”
“You’re egging him on. I just found you, I’d rather not lose you before we have a chance to see where this takes us.”
Her face softened and she stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. The soft, floral scent of her was enough to drown out the stench of blood and death still heavy in the air. “You’re not going to lose me. Nothing in the Seven Hells would dare take me.”
Reluctantly he turned her loose, joining in the search of the apartment. “That’s not the first time you’ve said that phrase. Why Seven Hells?”
“Seven is an important number for us. There are the Seven Founders, the leaders of the major races who established the boundary lines for Mythria millennia ago. They were also the ones who made the ultimate decision to erect the Nexus. Then there are the Seven Hells, essentially realms of the underworld, each ruled by an Overlord. Long story short, trust me when I say you don’t want to be trapped in any of them. The Overlords make this,” she gestured around the room before continuing, “look like child’s play.”
“Sounds…unpleasant.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
A tingling sensation spread from the back of his neck down his arms as he passed the couch. Curious, he knelt down, careful to avoid the pool of blood and body fluids. At first glance, nothing was out of the ordinary. He started to rise, placing his hand on one of the cushions for leverage. It was like a jolt of electricity shot up his arm.
“What the hell?” Connor shook his hand, trying to dispel the uncomfortable feeling of pins and needles.
Sha crossed the room, her concern apparent. “What happened?”
“See what’s under that cushion, would you? I think we may have found our knife.”
Brows knitted in confusion, she gingerly lifted the cushion, eyes wide as she took in the glint of light on the silver blade. “Impressive, Detective.”
“Will it be enough to kill the wendigo?”
“I hope so, but there’s one way to find out.”
As she pulled the lethal athame from the couch, Connor checked his phone for messages; Ian should’ve been here by now. Before he had time to do more than turn the display on, a commotion filtered in through the window he’d opened to air out the room. He must be getting jaded since his first thought wasn’t to run down and assess the situation, it was bemusement that something else had gone wrong. They couldn’t catch a damn break, could they?
“I’m not sure I even want to know what’s going on outside,” Sha said, voice laden with weariness.
“Glad I’m not the only one with that opinion.”
“Why can’t I follow through with my desire to bury my head in the sand?”
“Because it’s not who we are. Ready to discover the fun, new ways the world’s crumbling now?”
She gave him a begrudging smile. “On the bright side, you haven’t had a dull moment since you met me.”
It was that easy. In a room filled with death and horrors beyond imagining, she could make him see past it and make him want to laugh. He held out his hand to her. “Come on, temptress. Time to go kill things.”
*******
“Is it just me, or are there eyes boring into us from somewhere nearby?” Sha asked as they picked their way down the rickety staircase. Always fun to be a good thirty feet above ground level and have every step sway as if you were on a boat. This building hadn’t seen a repairman in decades if the rotting wood and peeling paint were any indication. It still amazed her the dingy apartment had hidden a solid silver blade, the valuable object ridiculously out of place in comparison to the rest of the surroundings.
“No, I feel it too. Has me on edge.”
You’re too late, Sorceri bitch. You played right into my plan, do you realize that? Thank you for wasting your time in the home of that putrid piece of refuse.
The unexpected whisper rasped across her mind like sandpaper, she stumbled and would have fallen had it not been for Connor’s steadying hand around her upper arm.
“Don’t let him push your buttons,” Connor warned, continuing to lead her down to the first floor.
“I don’t let him do anything.”
“Right, you just antagonize a psychopath for shits and giggles?”
Come out and play. A shrill, tormented shriek rang out as their feet touched the landing. Can’t you hear how much fun we’re having here? Look at them, disgusting little rats scurrying about, begging their God for mercy. They should be begging me for mercy.
The twisted bastard was slaughtering innocents on the other side of the door, waves of debilitating pain, terror, and desperation beat at her incessantly. “You can’t expect me to do nothing, Co
nnor. If you want to be with me, accept me for who I am,” she said, unable to meet his gaze for fear of what she’d see. It wasn’t in her nature to sit back and do nothing, not when so many suffered with no way to defend themselves. She’d push him from her mind if she had to, block him from her thoughts so he couldn’t stop her. Gods she hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“Look at me.” Compelled by the command in his voice, she lifted her eyes, steeling herself to argue her case. Instead, all she saw was a determination matching her own. “Do what you need to do, but stay alive and don’t lock me out. I’ll only try to interfere if it’s to save you or help.”
No sweeter words had ever been spoken. He understood in a way no one else ever had, and it awed her. Moving so fast it made her head spin, he pressed his lips hard against hers for a long moment, before releasing her. “For luck. Let’s end this son of a bitch.”
Still reeling from the kiss, it took a moment to process what he’d said. “Any ideas on how we do that?” Planning wasn’t her strong suit, she preferred diving headfirst and dealing with the consequences later. How hard it must be for her detective to stifle his instinctive drive to stash her somewhere safe. Considering she’d caught his fleeting thought to do just that, she wanted to return the gesture by at least attempting to quell her impulsivity.
“We need to figure out a way to get Nightmare close enough to stab in the heart with this, right?” Connor held the knife, testing its weight. “Odd, isn’t it? That he had this when the rest of his place was a dump. This couldn’t have been cheap, and my intuition says it’s pure silver.”
That niggling little detail had been plaguing her since they’d left the macabre scene. “Let me see it again,” she said, wanting to examine it more closely.
The hilt was intricately carved with grotesque, misshapen bodies, faces contorted in silent screams. Etchings gave the impression of fire pits in the background, twisted hands reaching up from the flames. A depiction of hell. Oh, gods.
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