Urban Extinction: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Shadow Eradicators Book 1)

by K.N. Lee

  Livia spent most of her evening in her bathtub, soaking until it cooled and she had to let it out and run more steaming water. It was what she did to calm her nerves…and her mind.

  She didn’t think she’d be up in the middle of the night, dealing with another murder.

  Peaceful sleep was a rare luxury. She could scarcely remember a time when she wasn’t plagued by nightmares, haunted by her memories of growing up—and being experimented on—at Psi-3891. Both she and Egan had trouble sleeping.

  A cold breeze snapped her from her dark thoughts.

  The body had been dumped at a group of abandoned warehouses, overlooking the East River. The only business ever conducted out here consisted of drug deals, or…murders. Livia shivered. She wondered if she’d ever get used to the sight of a corpse. Her humanity would be in question if she ever did.

  “You know what’s near here, right?” Egan’s voice dispersed her dark memories.

  Livia pulled her jacket tight. “What?”

  “That Satanic cult. They live in an innocuous looking house on this very street.”

  Livia shivered. “How do you know?”

  “I read about it down at the 12th precinct.”

  “Do you think it’s connected?” The last thing Livia wanted to deal with was Satanism.

  “I don’t know. I’m just saying, is all.” Egan gave her a somber look.

  As she scurried toward the gruesome scene, marked by yellow crime tape and flashing lights, Livia turned to say something to Egan. Where’d she go? She glanced over her shoulder to see her, dragging her feet, staring at the ground. She turned to look ahead. Then, she smiled. She pivoted and kept walking backward as she spoke to Egan.

  “Why are you applying the brakes suddenly, hmm?” she teased.

  “I’m not applying brakes,” Egan snapped. She trained her scowling gaze on the fresh-faced medical examiner, lit by police lights, crouched over a sheet-covered corpse.

  “What? It’s only Rion. You might enjoy an older man.”

  “What is he? Twelve?” Egan’s voice sounded sharp. “I like men in their thirties. Besides, we’re working.”

  “He does appear young. But, he’s probably at least three hundred,” Livia said, lifting a brow. “You know how fairies age.”

  “And you know I don’t date the Fae. They’re too much trouble,” Egan said. “Besides the fact, I don’t shit where I eat.”

  “Who said anything about dating?” Livia said. She side-eyed Egan and sighed. Despite Egan’s hard exterior, she was just as attracted to Rion as he was to her. Maybe another nudge might push Egan in the right direction.

  Egan’s fiery gaze snapped to hers.

  “I…you…never mind,” she huffed, hurrying ahead.

  Livia burst out laughing. She hurried to catch up with Egan.

  She and Egan stopped just at the edge of the cloth covering the body. They both crouched next to it.

  “What I’d give to never smell another dead body,” Livia said, grimacing as she covered her nose.

  The precinct provided them with Scent Stoppers—small vials of some scientific formula they were supposed to dab on the end of their noses—but nothing prevented the sharp tang of blood from winding its way into her olfactory senses. Maybe the horror of seeing someone’s life essence oozing out stirred her imagination. Or maybe the iron-tanged essence of blood couldn’t be stopped by some stupid “scientific formula.”

  “Evening, ladies,” Rion said with a grin. He barely glanced at Livia, his eyes fixed on Egan’s serious face as she bent toward the cloth covered body.

  Livia rolled her eyes.

  “Hey, Rion. What do we have here?” Egan asked.

  Livia kept one hand over her nose as she folded her other arm under her bosom. Then, her face bunched as she watched Egan start to lift the covering to reveal a man’s broken frame.

  “Let me get that, little lady,” Rion said, hustling to position himself closer to Egan. He snatched the sheet from her, preventing them from viewing the body.

  “Is there a problem?” Livia frowned.

  Rion swallowed. “This one is different.”

  Egan eyed him warily as he peeled back the sheet.

  “Damn,” Egan said, peering closer at the man.

  He lay face down, his head to the side.

  “He looks ancient. His hair is completely white.”

  “Nope. Don’t think so.” Livia pointed to his smooth, unblemished skin. “He must be all of twenty something.”

  “I must be off my game,” Egan said. She scowled. “I thought he was an old man at first glance.”

  “No,” Livia said, softly. She studied the dark circles ringing Egan’s eyes. “You’re just tired. We both are.”

  Rion’s eyebrows pulled together, directing his gaze at Egan. “Not sleeping? You two need to take a few days off. I have a—”

  “Vacation place?” Livia finished his sentence, feeling every bit the matchmaker. “I’m pretty busy. Booked solid for weeks. Egan’s the one who needs a break.”

  She eyed Egan with amusement. Egan scowled so hard, she looked like her head might explode.

  “Tell us what happened,” Egan said, abruptly. She held her hand over the dead man’s hair as her eyes widened. “Something isn’t adding up. The station said the guy was shot in a drug deal gone wrong.”

  “That’s right,” Rion said, pointing his gloved fingers to the gunshot wounds coming from the guy’s back. “He took two shots to the chest and—though it will most likely take a few days for a toxicology report—this shows all of the signs of a bad drug deal. The poor kid didn’t know what was coming.”

  “Hmm,” Egan said, her eyes scanning the body. “What are these strange lines on the back of his neck?”

  “What do you mean?” Rion asked.

  Livia followed Egan’s gaze. “These…” She pointed to the spidery lines covering the corpse’s neck. She may as well have been talking to the street lamp.

  Rion’s gaze focused on Egan, not the body.

  Egan folded her arms over her chest. She seemed lost in thought.

  She’s probably thinking about Rion, not the dead body. Livia’s mood began to sour. “Looks to be the work of fairies. They mark their victims with strange colorizations to their flesh all of the time.”

  Rion kept his gaze on Egan.

  Egan stayed silent.

  “The Fae,” Livia said. “They like to disfigure their victims.”

  Rion glanced at her, his eyebrows stitched together in puzzlement. “No, they don’t…”

  “Well,” Egan said, coming out of her silent reverie. “Look here. His color is a bit off, and these lines didn’t come from a gunshot wound.”

  “Definitely the work of the supernatural,” Livia said.

  “I concur,” Egan said.

  “I’m telling you, it’s the mark of Fae.” Livia scowled at Rion.

  He kept his gaze fixed on Egan.

  “Or maybe it’s what happens when you’re ignored repeatedly.”

  Egan’s gaze whipped toward Livia. Understanding seemed to form in her eyes.

  “Right, Rion. There are two of us out here, not just one.”

  Rion shook his head. “Oh. My apologies.”

  She moved around Rion, coming to rest beside Livia.

  “But I’m telling you, it’s not the mark of a fairy. I should know.” His brow lowered over his eyes.

  Livia smirked, feeling seen once more. She leaned into Egan, peering at the lifeless body.

  “Those are definitely gunshot wounds, Egan,” she said.

  “But, it’s as if he’s been drained. There isn’t even much blood. Turn him over,” Egan said. “I want a better look.”

  Something stirred in Livia’s belly.

  A warning.

  Her skin grew tight as Rion turned the body over.

  Egan was right. Not all was what it seemed. The man before her was the same one she’d seen at the club earlier.

  Livia hunched closer,
ignoring the awful smell. “Holy hell. It’s Jason Chambers.”

  “The State Congressman’s son?” Rion asked.

  “Did I hear you correctly?” Lt. Danvers asked.

  She jumped. She pivoted her head, stumbled, and nearly fell over onto the body.

  She straightened her clothes as she stood.

  “What all did you hear?” she asked, licking her lips as their eyes locked.

  Act naturally.

  Danvers pointed to the body. “Is that really the Congressman’s son? This guy looks old.”

  Sighing, Livia nodded. “It is.”

  Egan stuffed her hands in her pockets. Her face was stone serious. “Yeah. Me, too. It’s the guy from the club earlier tonight. Isn’t he supposed to get married to some New York socialite soon? It’s all over the news feeds. Social event of the season.”

  “Not anymore,” Livia said, pulling her coat tight. “He may have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but somebody took it from him.”

  Egan’s gaze met hers. “And we’re going to find out why.”

  Egan

  Standing next to Jason’s corpse, illuminated by the flashing red and blue lights, Lt. Danvers began questioning Egan, positioning himself between her and Livia, as if shielding Livia. “What do you mean you saw him at the club?”

  Egan peered around Danvers, trying to catch Livia’s eye, before answering.

  Livia stared at the ground.

  Egan glared at Danvers. Why are you protecting Livia? And, Livia, why are you acting so weird? “Like I said. We were at the club earlier, catching a perp, remember?”

  A breeze kicked up a pile of garbage and debris around her ankles, luring out a nearby rat. It skittered toward her feet, as if chasing his next meal. She kicked at the trash, sending a burger wrapper in the rat’s direction.

  Rion busied himself with preparing the corpse for transport. After he and another fellow lifted the body onto a stainless-steel gurney, he secured a strap around it, giving it a firm tug. As he pushed the gurney past her, he glanced at her.

  She gave him a slight smile and a nod.

  He visibly brightened, standing taller.

  She afforded him another glance.

  He was tall, well-built, and boyishly charming. His wavy brown hair brushed the top of his collar. He had dimples when he smiled, and his eyes were the color of soft moss lining the forest floor.

  “Of course I remember,” Danvers said, interrupting her musing. “But nothing came up when you came into my office, Livia.”

  He turned to look at Livia, his gaze growing limpid.

  “I guess I got distracted,” Livia said, wrapping her arms around her tummy. She stepped from behind his protective stance. “What with everything else we talked about.”

  Her gaze swept the ground before landing on Egan.

  Egan glanced at Danvers and then Livia, questioning her friend with her eyes. “What all did you talk about?”

  Livia gave a small shake of her head, as if telling her to move on.

  Egan jerked her hands, palm up, glaring at her.

  “The real question is—what did you see?” Lt. Danvers stood stiffly, his hand poised over his NYC TechNote, the device used by the police to take notes.

  “He sat in the corner of the club macking on some woman. It wasn’t his fiancée.”

  Danvers’ thumbs flew over the keyboard.

  “And you knew this how?” he asked, his attention directed at his screen.

  “What do you mean how do I know this? I’ve got eyes, you know. The woman sticking her tongue down his throat wasn’t his fiancée. She’s a brunette. This woman was a…” She paused, frowning, trying to recall what the woman looked like. In her mind, she saw nothing but a big, blank, hole. How odd. It’s like it’s been wiped from my mind.

  “I remember what you said,” Livia interjected, coming to her rescue.

  “I didn’t say…” Egan began, until she noticed Livia’s frantic head shake.

  “Remember? You said she was blonde. I definitely remember you telling me she had blonde hair.”

  Danvers looked suspiciously between them.

  I didn’t mention anything to you.

  Egan’s eyebrows drew together, until she noticed Livia’s wide-eyed gaze, inviting her to play along.

  Of course. You read my mind at the club.

  You were thinking of the kissing couple when I was seducing Renner. The only way I could let that scumbag kiss me was by accessing you and your mind.

  Egan shook her head. Livia and her super-powers.

  The girl could pick secrets out of the corners of people’s minds. Thankfully, she respected their friendship enough to seldom pry.

  “Right, Liv. That’s what I said. And I think we should follow up at the club. Look at the owner’s footage.” Egan inclined her head. Please, Liv, let’s wrap this up and get out of here.

  Livia’s eyebrows shot up. She nodded. “I completely agree, Egan.” She stepped next to Lt. Danvers, letting her hand rest on his forearm. “Let us do our job, okay?”

  A winsome look settled on her pretty face.

  “Sure thing,” he said, his gaze growing puppy dog soft.

  They seem awfully friendly. Egan wanted to vomit. She projected thoughts toward Livia. What’s going on? She was met with a brick wall of silence.

  Egan headed toward her Corvette, Livia right behind her. As soon as they were out of ear shot of Danvers, Egan took her arm.

  “What’s with all the strange behavior between you and the lieutenant?” she asked in a low voice.

  Livia tugged her arm away. “Nothing. I don’t know what you mean. It’s business as usual.”

  “Right. We’re closer than most, Livia,” she said, tapping her temple.

  Livia frowned, her mind throwing up more brick walls.

  Egan decided not to press the issue, at least for the moment.

  Instead, she said, “It’s the strangest thing. When I tried to think of what the woman looked like who was kissing Jason, my mind came up empty. I’ve got great recall.” She fished free her key-fob and unlocked the ‘Vette. “Thanks for covering for me, by the way.”

  She flashed a warm smile at Livia.

  “Any time,” Livia said, sliding into the passenger seat. “That’s awful—about Jason, I mean.”

  “It is. I can’t make heads or tails of it. What would make him chalk white?”

  Livia shrugged. “Who knows?” She closed the door.

  Egan nestled behind the steering wheel. She loved the sleek comfort and speed of her Corvette. When she was away from city life, she’d floor it, zooming through country roads, feeling free—something she seldom felt in her normal daily life.

  She stared at the place where they’d found Jason. A dark blood stain marked where he had been placed.

  She flipped on the headlights, illuminating the street. “Yeah, and out here of all places.”

  She waved her arm at their surroundings.

  “I know.” Livia shuddered. “This place gives me the creeps.”

  Egan pressed the gas pedal and they sped off, heading toward Club Akeldema They pulled up outside the club at around three a.m. A sign on the door read “closed.” Egan strode toward the entrance, pounding on it with her fists.

  “Go away,” a man shouted from inside.

  “This is the police,” Livia said. She turned to grin at Egan. “I never get tired of saying that, do you?”

  Egan smiled as the satisfying sound of locks turning met their ears. “Nope. Nor do I tire of seeing their faces when they see who…”

  The door flew open and a balding man stood, blinking at them. His suit jacket appeared rumpled, like he’d slept in it—either that, or wore it for two days straight.

  “What is this?” he growled. “You said you were the police. You’re far too pretty to be the…”

  “We’re consultants,” Egan said, brushing him aside as she strode through the door. She squinted, trying to adjust to the harsh lights.


  The man hurried around her, blocking her from entering the main floor. “We’re closed. Trying to get out of here.”

  Egan and Livia peered over his shoulders.

  Clinks and loud clatters, and then the hiss of water, came from the kitchen.

  A couple of huge guys in suits sat at a corner table—presumably the club’s security—tossing back shots.

  A woman swept the floor with a large broom, her movements swift and hurried.

  “Are they off duty?” Livia asked the man. She pointed to the beefy guards.

  “Yep.” He tugged at his shiny blue tie, loosening it. “Look. It’s late. It’s been a long day. I want to go home. What can I do for you?”

  He stood as a barrier between she and Livia, and the rest of the club.

  “Thanks for offering. We’ll have a couple shots, too, right Liv?” Egan winked at her.

  “Right,” Livia said.

  “Jameson for me,” Egan said.

  “Same,” Livia said.

  “I didn’t offer,” the man spluttered as they sidled past him like water around a stone.

  “Can you tell the owner we’re here to speak to him about an important matter?” Egan said, settling onto a bar stool.

  “You’re talking to him,” the man complained.

  “Super. Name’s Egan. This is Livia.” She peeled back her jacket, revealing the badge on her belt. “Shots, please.”

  His expression a study in gloom and discontent, the man stalked around the bar-top. He reached for the Jameson, whacked a couple shot glasses on the solid wood, and proceeded to pour.

  When he finished, Egan picked hers up and held it out to Livia.

  “To solving tonight’s mystery,” she said.

  They clinked glasses and tossed the whiskey down their throats.

  “I always think better after a Jameson, don’t you, Liv?” She smiled.

  “Absolutely.” Livia returned the smile. “Now, let’s get down to business. We’d like to see the camera footage from tonight.”

  The club owner placed his palms on the counter and leaned forward. A stringy strand of graying hair fell into his eyes. “Not happening. This is a private establishment. Our patrons know we respect their privacy.” His gaze fell to something behind the bar.