I wasn’t even sure what a deputy mayor did. I knew she was adjunct to the mayor, but how much actual power she wielded, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to ask, though, because it seemed rude. Instead, I just murmured a hello when Herne introduced her to the rest of us, and shook her hand as she reached across the table to everyone in turn.
As soon as she was settled in a chair, she lifted her briefcase onto the table. “The mayor asked me to talk to you because we have a problem and we need your help. We’d like you to investigate a case that’s cropped up. The police department is having trouble with it, due to the delicate nature of the circumstances.”
What was this? She sounded far more worried than her expression showed.
Herne frowned. “What’s going on?”
“We have a serial killer on the loose, and this is one case we’re trying to keep out of the papers. The police have investigated every lead they can find and come up with nothing. Somebody’s going to put two and two together soon, and when they do, the media will be all over this. We don’t want them to find out. Whoever the killer is, he’s smart, powerful, and deadly.”
That brought the mood of the room to a crashing halt.
After a moment, Herne said, “All right, I assume you need our help because you think the killer isn’t human?”
“We have no clue, though I think we can assume so. We need your help because there are a lot of the magic-born in this town, and we don’t want the guilds going all vigilante, which they would.” She frowned. “Dealing with the magic-born can be tricky. They’ve been demanding a spot on the United Coalition council and I think they’ll get it, which isn’t exactly a problem, but they’re more powerful than most of the other groups put together. Except, perhaps, the vampires.”
“And just why would the guilds go into vigilante mode?” I asked.
Maria Serenades let out a long sigh. “Because the killer is targeting necromancers, psychics, and bone witches. If he—we think it’s a he, we don’t know for sure—is targeting anyone else, we have yet to see. But it’s only a matter of time before the guilds notice and demand results.”
I whistled. “That’s specific. The psychics—?”
“They’re mediums, all of whom could talk with the dead.” She shook her head. “Right now, we think the killer has a very specific target range, but we could be wrong.”
“Just how many victims have there been?” Herne asked.
“Too many.” Maria accepted a cup of coffee from Viktor, looking glum. “Five that we know of, over the course of five weeks. With the first two, we didn’t put the pieces together. But after the third murder, one of the detectives assigned to the case noticed the pattern. Of course, Chief Johalla brought it to our attention. She keeps in close contact with the mayor.”
“Chief Johalla? There’s a new chief of police?” Last I’d heard, the head of the department was Fae. Johalla wasn’t really a Fae surname.
“Right,” Maria said, fiddling with her napkin. “I suppose you’ve been too busy to notice, but last month Karston, the former chief of police, resigned amidst allegations of corruption. Evidence surfaced that he had been accepting bribes from a rogue vampire who was paying him to hide evidence surrounding several vampire kills. Heidi Johalla was the deputy chief and she took over the position.”
Most of the Seattle police force was made up of members of the Light and Dark Fae Courts. The new chief was going to find the going a little rocky, but I doubted that the cops would deliberately botch an investigation into a serial killer, especially one preying on the magic-born. The last thing the Fae Courts would want was a war with the magical community. Nobody in their right mind would want that.
“All right, leave us all the information and we’ll go over it. Who do we contact if we have any questions?” Herne stared at the mound of files that Serenades was pulling out of her briefcase.
Maria sighed, glancing at me before answering. “I recommend going through Abril Gonzales. I’ll leave you her number. That way, there won’t be any reluctance on law enforcement’s side to cooperate with you.” She had a sad smile on her face.
Even though she hadn’t come out and explicitly said it, I knew exactly what she meant. The cops weren’t eager to work with me, at least those of Fae blood. They didn’t like having to sully their hands working alongside a filthy tralaeth.
“Thank you,” Herne said, inclining his head to indicate he understood. “We’ll get started on this. Five victims so far, you say? Do you have any hope that the killer might have moved on?”
Maria shook her head. “No. The killings are occurring at the rate of one a week. The last victim was found yesterday. Each victim has been found on a Tuesday, so there has to be some significance to the timing. But we know that most of the victims weren’t killed where they were found—the ME has discovered evidence that they’ve mostly been killed in what we think is a rural area, judging by the residue dirt, seeds, and debris on the bodies.”
“Is the murderer using the same dump site?” Viktor asked.
“No, actually. One of the victims was found in his home. They’ve been scattered around the city. According to the medical examiner, each of the victims died the day before they were found—they were killed on Mondays. Someone always finds them the next day; they’ve been placed in areas where it would be almost impossible for someone not to find them. Several of the victims were near recluses, as far as we can tell, though some had friends and family.” She frowned.
“Do you think the killer wants to get caught?”
Maria shook her head. “No, or they’d leave more evidence. I think he’s either sending a message or looking for notoriety.”
Herne picked up the first file and glanced inside, grimacing. “Messy.”
“Don’t be fooled,” Maria said. “Yes, the deaths are messy, but not disorganized. There’s very little evidence to show that any of the victims fought back, so they either were subdued or under a charm. Or they knew the killer and didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. We thought about bringing in someone to check for magical signatures, but since we’re dealing with magic-born victims, there will always magical residue because of that.”
Talia shifted in her chair. “You mean none of the victims were drugged or restrained in any way? That seems unusual.”
“Oh, they were restrained, but there’s no evidence that they fought back. There are marks on the hands and wrists that show they may have been shackled—except for the one who was killed at home. But the tox screens showed no drugs or recognizable sedatives. We can’t test for all of the herbal drugs or magical sedatives, though, so we can’t rule that out.”
She glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall. “We have less than a week before the killer’s due to strike again. Five weeks, and not a shred of evidence that we can find to link the victims to any one thing or place in particular, except for the fact that they’re all members of the magic-born. I’m afraid you’re running on borrowed time if we want to prevent another murder. Somehow, I don’t think this killer’s going to go away all that easily.”
With that, she made her good-byes, and we were left with a mess in our laps.
Chapter Three
Herne was silent as Angel escorted Maria out to the elevator. He refilled his coffee cup and chose a chocolate doughnut from the plate on the counter. As he settled back in his chair, Angel returned from the waiting room.
After a moment, Herne set down his cup and the doughnut and picked up the first folders. The deputy mayor had left at least fifteen files, and I figured five of those were copies of the case files and the rest were general notes.
“Well, I guess we have a priority case on our hands. What do we have on the calendar for this week?” He glanced at Angel.
“We finished the Luck case, and we just have the Vine case left, but they’re gone on vacation for two weeks and asked that we postpone the investigation till they get back.” She paused as Herne’s phone rang.
&n
bsp; “I’ll be back in a moment,” he said, answering the call as he moved to the other side of the room.
I leaned forward, staring at the case files. They seemed to loom large in my sight, and I could feel the fear and worry of the officers who had prepared them. As I stared at them, the room began to spin and…
…The next moment, I was crouching on a barren slope of a mountain, under the blazing sun.
It blinded me, beating down relentlessly. I tried to shade my eyes, tried to see through the glare but it was so brilliant that I could barely keep it at bay. A layer of dirt and grime covered my arms, and I was holding my sword—Brighid’s Flame—balancing the point on the ground. Every cell of my body felt burnt and crisped, dry like autumn leaves, and to my left, a dark army of clouds was closing in. All I could feel was an overwhelming sense of despair, as though I had lost something precious and couldn’t find it.
“Where are you?” I whispered. “Where are you?”
A susurration of wind gusted by, hot and unrelenting. In its wake, I heard a faint voice answer. I’m still alive. I can’t move. Help me, Ember…I don’t know where to run.
“Run to the shadows,” I said, straightening up. “Run into the darkness, where you can hide.”
There are monsters in the darkness, came the whisper.
“There are monsters, yes, but your only way to safety is through the shadows. Into the shadows, now, and I will find you.” I stood, knowing I had to descend into the chaos. But before I could move, a flash of sunlight hit my eyes, scorching my sight.
I jerked away and the next thing I knew…
I was back in my chair once again, sitting in the break room.
I jumped up, panicking.
“What’s wrong?” Angel asked, worry clouding her face. “Where were you? It’s like you checked out for a few minutes.”
I tried to catch my breath. Slowly, I stopped shaking. I tried to sort out my thoughts. “I don’t know what happened. I had a vision, I think.” Ever since I had started working for the Wild Hunt, I’d occasionally had visions—flashes that were usually visual premonitions, though they were often more metaphor for the warning than actual depictions of events to come.
“What did you see?” Yutani asked. He motioned to Talia. “Get her some water, please.”
As Talia crossed to the sink, Yutani brought up a notepad on his laptop. “Go ahead, tell me what happened and I’ll write it down for you.”
I stumbled over what I could remember—giving him every detail that I could think of. “I felt…like I was inches from shattering. You know how you feel when you’re burned out and running on the last dregs? I felt scorched.” I accepted the water from Talia. “Thank you. I have no idea what it pertains to, but I was staring at the stack of files, so it may relate to this case. Either way, I’m dreading diving into another serial killer case, although the last one ended up with us meeting Raven, so at least it had a bright spot—” I stopped as Herne returned to the table.
“What happened?” he asked. “Are you all right?”
“I had another vision.” I told him what I had seen.
“Lovely. Well, keep it in mind. Meanwhile, we have yet another headache to deal with. That was my mother, Morgana. Ember, she wants to see you tonight. You’re to go through the Fantastica again. She’s expecting you around eight p.m., our time.”
“But Angel and I are due at Marilee’s tonight.”
“Morgana knows that. She’s already contacted her. Angel, you’ll go alone.”
I jotted the note down on my steno pad. “All right. I take it that Aoife is still the guardian of the boat?”
He nodded. “Yes, Aoife’s still there.”
The Fantastica was Morgana’s houseboat. Or rather, it was a portal into Morgana’s realm, and Aoife was the gatekeeper. She was an Undine, one of the Light Fae.
The trip actually sounded pleasant to me. It was a beautiful day, and a trip down to the docks would be a welcome chance to get near the water.
“What else did your mother want?” Talia asked.
“That’s the headache. Saílle and Névé are up to their old tricks again.” He tapped away on his tablet. “Sending you all the information now. Looks like the truce is officially over.”
For a while, the two Fae Queens had called a truce when they—and we—were facing a common enemy. But the Tuathan Brotherhood had been shoved back into the gutters of the Dark Web, and now the Fae Queens were at it again. This was what I had primarily been hired by the Wild Hunt for—to help run interference between the warring courts. Both sides had been fighting since time immemorial, since they had first divided into the Light and Dark Courts. Back in Annwn, the Celtic Otherworld where Herne came from, the great kingdoms of Navane and TirNaNog fought tooth and nail, long bloody battles that never truly ended.
Here in this realm, the cities of Navane and TirNaNog that mirrored their namesakes—though on a much smaller scale—fought more underhandedly. We stepped in when their collateral damage threatened to affect innocents outside of their courts, meaning humans, shifters, and anybody else who wasn’t of Fae origin.
“What the hell are those two up to now?” I asked, finishing my coffee.
“The Light Court started it, as usual. You’d think being called ‘light’ they might be a little less prone to incite violence, but no such luck. Anyway, it seems that Névé is out to retrieve Callan, who is still hanging out at TirNaNog.” He grunted. “She sent a party to try to ambush him. He was with a group of guards and they were driving down I-405. This resulted in a multi-vehicle collision.”
“Injuries? Fatalities?” Viktor asked.
“Seven seriously wounded shifters and five humans in critical condition. We’ve been charged with collecting Callan and returning him to Annwn so Morgana can deal with him. Now that the Brotherhood is no longer a factor, neither Névé nor Saílle can offer any objections when Morgana sends him back to the time period he belongs in.”
“Good luck on that,” Viktor said. “I don’t think either one of those broads has any clue as to what constitutes a reasonable request.”
“Not to mention, now that he has a taste for the modern age, is Callan even going to want to return to his own time?” Talia asked.
Callan was an ancient Fae warrior/hero, who had single-handedly driven the Fomorians—a race of giants who were the Fae’s mortal enemies—back into the mountains. This was in Annwn, during the beginning of the Tuathan-Fomorian Wars. Névé and Saílle had combined forces when the Brotherhood had the Fae under duress, and they had retrieved Callan’s spirit, bringing a statue of him to life to act as a vessel. He was flesh and blood all right, but he wasn’t supposed to be part of our timeline and the gods had been very testy over the fact that he was running around the streets of Seattle.
“Then we’re going to have to kidnap his ass and drag him before Morgana. He might not like it, but that’s our job and we’re going to do it.” Herne lightly tossed his tablet onto the table. “I’ve made an appointment for us to talk to Saílle and Névé tomorrow at Ginty’s.”
I groaned. “Another parley? I hate that shit.” I mostly objected to sitting in a room with Saílle and Névé, trying to coax them into acting like adults instead of angsty teenagers. Plus, I always came away from the parleys feeling like dirt. They never said anything about me, and in fact, I had to admit, more than once they had been fair, but I still knew that I was dirt in their eyes.
“Well, suck it up, buttercup. You’re going. So is Viktor.” Herne grinned at me, ducking as I threw a wadded-up paper towel at him. “All right, let’s dive into these files and see what we’re up against. Angel, steel yourself. There are morgue photos in here and, given what Serenades said, they’re not pretty.”
Angel let out a sigh, but shrugged. “I’m starting to get used to it. I don’t like it, but I can handle it.” She had toughened up a lot since we started working for Herne, but she was still the most sensitive one of us, and it hurt her to see others in pain.
<
br /> “All right, let’s see what we have.” Herne opened the files and began to sort through them.
Twenty minutes later, we were staring at a horrifying array of images and notes. The photographs were gritty, capturing detail in the extreme. Five victims, three male and two female, and all of them caught in their death throes. The murders had been brutal.
“Joy,” Angel said. “There’s so much joy mingling with the fear. Excitement and glee. Whoever did this got off on it, big time.” She grimaced, leaning on her elbows and holding her head. “Who could possibly get such a thrill out of torturing and killing people? I mean, I know there are perverts who do, but the reality never fails to amaze me.”
Herne shook his head as I moved to give her a hug. “Angel, I know it’s a lot to ask, but can you pick up anything more on the killer? We can use all the information we can use.”
She sniffed, then raised her head. “I’ll try.”
As she closed her eyes, I quietly slipped over to the counter to get the tissues. I knew how much it pained her to pick up on the gruesome details of a case.
“They knew the person. The killer was a friend, they thought.”
“Can you get anything more?” Herne frowned, jotting down notes as Angel spoke.
“Yes, a little. Whoever it is, they’ve got…they’re huge—but not in body. In spirit? And they’re not right in the head. There’s something terribly wrong. The killer is far more dangerous than we think,” Angel said softly, opening her eyes. “Smart, the murderer is so smart and clever and confident. The bodies are easy to find because he—she—whoever, is taunting the cops.” She grimaced. “A love for torture...a love for chaos. That’s all I got.”
“That helps,” Herne murmured. “So we’re chasing someone who gets off on torture and killing, and for some reason their targets are the magic-born. You didn’t by any chance get a clue of what race? Fae? Shifter? Human?”
Sun Broken: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 11 Page 3