Wiretaps & Whiskers (The Faerie Files Book 1)

by Emigh Cannaday

  “There’s a lot of different demons out there,” she croaked. “Are you sure we’re dealing with Moloch?”

  I pointed to the picture on my phone, holding it up for her.

  “A hundred percent sure. The sigil on the onyx boulder is definitely his. From what I can tell, it’s meant to summon him.”

  The blood drained from her face, and she took a step back. Then she took another one. It looked like she was ready to bolt out the door.

  “Elena? Are you okay?”

  “No . . . ”

  I could see her getting wobblier by the second. I rose to my feet and took her gently by her arms, guiding her towards the chair next to the one I’d just been sitting in.

  “Hell,” she said as she collapsed into it. “Isn’t that what Sylvia saw when she was remote viewing? She told us that she hadn’t seen anything like it except for hell itself.”

  Elena stared into space as though she was putting all the pieces of the puzzle together.

  “Elena? Who is this Moloch?”

  “A demon,” she said, and leaned forward, burying her head in her hands. “A really powerful demon. One of the most powerful ones there ever was. If he has something to do with what we’re dealing with . . . ”

  Slowly, she sat back upright and turned her face to mine.

  “Logan, if this is what we’re dealing with, we’re fucked. This is bad. Like, worse than bad. We’re in serious danger.”

  I reached over and rubbed her shoulder, trying to calm her down, but underneath my fingers, she started to tremble ever so slightly.

  “It’ll be okay,” I told her, although I didn’t have a fucking clue of how to go about that. I was out of my depth and had no idea about the kind of darkness we faced. But Elena had seen it all, hadn’t she? She’d know what to do.

  “Hey, Elena? You’re freaking me out a little. You don’t look like yourself right now.”

  I had the urge to hug her, to protect her. She was tough and could look after herself. So why did she look so scared?

  “This Moloch demon,” I said. “You’re really afraid of him, aren’t you?”

  “That’s a fucking understatement. He’s a demon from hell. One of the most powerful, evil entities to exist. He’s been around for thousands of years . . . thriving off of people’s pain and misery. He feeds off of fear. Especially children’s fear . . . ”

  Then a thought struck me. Judging by the way she was acting, maybe her fear wasn’t random or abstract. Maybe it came from a very real place. A place at the back of her head filled with memories.

  “This might sound crazy, but have you dealt with him before?”

  Slowly, she nodded.

  “Once,” she said, picking at her nails. “Two years ago. I was investigating a child abuse ring in Manhattan. At first, the police thought the dickheads at the center of it were regular criminals. You know, human trafficking, that sort of thing. But after a little investigating, multiple witnesses started coming forward to say something darker was at play.”

  She paused for a breath and sat back in her seat as the weight of what she was about to say fell against her.

  “The kids they interviewed,” she continued, “the ones that survived, they described things that could only be called human sacrifice.”

  “You’re telling me this abuse ring sacrificed kids?”

  “It wasn’t the abuse that people think of when they think of the usual news headlines, and soon the police were realizing that too. That’s when I was called in.”

  She bit her lip, staring into the distance again as though lost in her memories of it.

  “Moloch was ultimately the one behind it,” she explained. “He operated through these criminals. They were all-powerful men. They thought that he could give them more power, more fame, more money, pretty much whatever they wanted. All they had to do was give him what he wanted.”

  “Children.”

  She stopped fussing with her nails and rubbed the heel of her hand against her eye. For a second, I was worried she was going to cry, but instead, she sat up straight, took a deep breath, and carried on.

  “Yeah. This demon feeds off children,” she said. “It’s not exactly common knowledge. There’s only a handful of religious scholars who’ve heard of him, but his history in this world is almost as old as the world itself. People wanting more power or luck or money have sacrificed children to him for centuries. For thousands of years, actually. It’s done all over the world. Since he’s a demon, he can appear differently to different people to get what he wants. So whether it’s a witch doctor in Uganda or a cult in Tennessee, Moloch is ultimately the one behind it.”

  Goosebumps rose up the backs of my arms. I wanted her to stop talking, didn’t want to hear another word she had to say about child abuse and demons.

  “So . . . you think that’s what’s happening here?” I asked. Elena frowned as she thought about it.

  “The thing is, he doesn’t normally take so many kids at once. It’s usually one here, one there. But if they’re being taken underground, like what Haley told us, and the numbers being what they are, there’s gotta be something bigger at play.”

  She bit her lip in thought, obviously not hearing a word I said.

  “Logan . . . the case in Manhattan was the worst I’ve ever worked on. I don’t want to . . . I don’t think I can . . . ”

  Her voice broke and she swallowed hard.

  “I don’t know if I can do it again. To deal with that darkness. That demon.”

  Rising from her seat, she walked over to the window that looked down the hall. Mild chaos was still erupting throughout the building as young officers and seasoned detectives tried to battle with their ever-increasing workload.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked her. “You look like you’re hatching a plan.”

  “I just have a hunch.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Well, I’m thinking we should—”

  “Sheriff, I was wonderin’ if you—oh!” A young officer burst into McKinney’s office who looked like he’d slept as much as I had. Dark circles lay beneath his eyes and his hair was sticking up on end. “Sorry. Thought the sheriff was in here.”

  “Last I saw, he was out there with you guys,” I replied. “Everything okay?”

  “It’s pure insanity.”

  He drained the last of his coffee and tossed the paper cup into the trash before dragging his hands down his exhausted face and yawning.

  “When was the last time you had a day off?” I asked.

  “A day off?” he scoffed. “I don’t remember.”

  He yawned again and leaned against the wall.

  “You’re FBI, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And what do you make of all this?”

  I thought about everything Elena had just told me and all the things I had experienced over the last few days. No one would believe it. I wouldn’t haven’t believed it myself a week ago.

  “I think we’ve got a very complex case on our hands,” I said.

  He stared at me, waiting for me to elaborate, but I didn’t. What more could I tell him? Tensions were running high through the station, and I didn’t want it to reach full-blown hysteria by rambling about demons. The news would travel like wildfire to the reporters roaming around the parking lot. I did not want to be known as the FBI agent who confirmed that our top suspect was a demon named Moloch, who liked long walks on the beach and dabbled in child sacrifice.

  “I just wish I knew what else I could do,” the young officer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve done the interviews with the family members. Hundreds of them. I’ve lived here all my life and I know these people.”

  “Are you related to any of the missing kids?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve searched the area, miles and miles of it looking for these kids but . . . ” He grimaced as though he was physically in pain. “There’s no sight of them. Nothing.”

  He lowered his he
ad and gazed at his shoes.

  “Is it true what they’re all saying? That there’s some sort of paranormal force behind it all?”

  “That’s just a rumor,” I said, glancing at Elena. “What we need is some hard evidence.”

  “Like I said, I grew up here. I’ve heard the stories. Heard some of the noises in the woods myself. I’m not saying there’s gremlins out there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there was something.”

  He rubbed his eyes and yawned.

  “Just wish there was something more I could do,” he said, walking back towards the door. “Something that can actually help instead of doing interview after interview.”

  Elena’s eyes brightened and she whipped out her phone.

  “Actually, there is something you could do,” she said, waving him over to her side. She brought up the photo of the sigil inscribed onto the boulder we’d found at Sylvia’s. “See this symbol? Have you ever seen that around town or out in the woods?”

  “No, never.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty damn sure. Think I’d remember it. It’s a weird looking scribble, ain’t it?”

  “It’s more than a scribble. I think it’s a clue about whoever took all these kids. I want you to look around town and see if you can find it somewhere.”

  “Should I look anywhere in particular?”

  “It could be carved into rocks or trees. Probably away from populated areas though.”

  She texted him the photo. Meanwhile, a look of confusion crept over his tired face.

  “All of Yarbrough is surrounded by woods. I’m happy to help y’all, but it’ll be like finding a needle in a haystack.”

  He zoomed in on the picture, taking note of every curve and line of the sigil.

  I scratched my chin in thought, wondering what the best plan of action would be.

  “Here’s an idea,” I said. “You’ve got a map of the places where the kids went missing, don’t you?”

  “That I do.”

  “Focus on those places. Start at the one nearest to the station and work your way clockwise.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Enthusiasm entered his voice as he straightened himself up. “I’ll get started on that right now.”

  Taking an FBI business card out of my wallet, I handed it to him and tapped my cellphone number.

  “Call or text me if you find something. Doesn’t matter what time of day or night it is. If you find anything, take pictures and send them to Agent Rivera and me.”

  “I will,” he said, looking at my name. “Senior Special Agent Hawthorne.”

  “And your name is . . . ”

  “Officer McKinney.”

  “McKinney? Any relation to the sheriff?”

  “He’s my uncle,” he said, looking a little embarrassed. “But that ain’t why I work here. Became a cop on my own.”

  “Oh trust me, I understand.” I gave him a knowing smile. “My dad was in the FBI, and so was my grandpa.”

  “Ain’t that something.”

  “Right then, let’s get back to business. I’m ready to roll,” Elena said, clapping her little hands together. The color had come back to her cheeks and she looked hell-bent on getting out of there. Officer McKinney gave her a polite smile and stepped out of the room.

  “Nice meeting you, Agent Hawthorne. I’ll be in touch.”

  With a mock salute to Elena and me, he darted out the door with a spring in his step.

  “Awww, you made a new friend,” she teased. “You think he’s secretly an expert in demons?”

  “No, but he’s young and hungry and has something to prove because of his name. He’ll be perfect.”

  I turned to her and saw she was trying her best to look normal, but I could still see the uneasiness in her eyes. She gave me a lackluster smile and reached for her previously forgotten Skittles. Chewing thoughtfully, she stared out the window. Another news truck was parked halfway down the road as though they were waiting for the right time to pounce. Soon, there would be more, and we had to have something of substance to tell them.

  “What do you think our next step should be?” I asked, watching the truck.

  “Sylvia,” said Elena without missing a beat. “She saw something last night. Something that scared the ever-living shit out of her. She said it was like hell.”

  The thought of heading back to her house exhausted me. More dust, more cats, and infinite manic weirdness.

  “She needs to tell us exactly what she saw.”

  “Agreed.”

  We both stared out the window, the two of us lost inside our heads as we watched the wind blowing through the trees.

  “Do you trust Sylvia?”

  The side-eye Elena gave me was in a league all of its own.

  “Of course I trust her. Why would you ask something so dumb?”

  “It’s just that the rock with the sigil was on her property.”

  “Buried,” Elena reminded me. “And you felt how heavy it was. You think she’s capable of carving it and burying it? She’s got arms like chicken wings. She could barely lift a bag of cat food. Don’t tell me you think she’s in on all of this.”

  “No, but it’s hard to trust her when I know she’s keeping information from us. And don’t forget she drugged me.”

  “That was an accident,” Elena said, waving it off like it was nothing. “You got a mild dose of mushrooms. I’ve seen crazier shit in college. But I do agree with you that she needs to tell us everything she saw last night. I’m going to keep after her until I get answers.”

  “Fine,” I sighed, and slipped my phone into my pocket. “Let’s head over. But if she offers us anything to drink, I’m not taking it.”

  23

  Elena

  “Coffee?” asked Sylvia as she poured herself a cup.

  “No thanks.”

  “That’d be great.”

  I rolled my eyes at Logan and he gave me an unapologetic shrug.

  “She just brewed it,” he said. “I don’t turn down a fresh cup of coffee.”

  Around him, a swarm of cats was slithering their way around his legs and trying to use them as a scratching post. I held back a smug snort of laughter, wondering how much he’d spent on that fancy suit. A chubby ginger cat with crinkly whiskers pawed at his shoelaces.

  “Here you are, Agent Hawthorne,” said Sylvia, handing over the cup of coffee with a smile.

  “So, what can I do for y’all?” she asked. “It must have been a whole two hours since I saw you last. Have there been developments since then?”

  “Of sorts,” said Logan as he took out his cell.

  “My my,” said Sylvia. “Phones just keep getting smaller.”

  “I found an article about the sigil on that rock we found in your yard.” Logan unlocked his phone with his thumb and pushed it across the table to her.

  For a second, her face was blank. Then she looked closer, squinting as she scrutinized the symbol.

  “No . . . ” she whispered so softly we hardly heard her. “This can’t be. That’s the sigil of Moloch.”

  “You know who he is?” asked Logan. She looked up from the phone with obvious fear in her eyes. Then she slid it across the table to its owner.

  “I’ve only heard of him. Bad people do bad things to appease him. He’s a demon. He dwells in the underworld. What I saw last night . . . ”

  “You said it was like Hell,” I interrupted.

  “Yes . . . ” Her face turned a sickly shade of gray as she held her hands to her face. “I’ll never forget it. The fear. The screaming. The tears.”

  “Sylvia,” I said, leaning towards her. “I know what you saw was awful, but you need to tell us what it was.”

  “No. I can’t!

  “You have to.”

  “I can’t. It’s too much.”

  She stood up and backed away from us until she was pressing herself up against the kitchen sink.

  “I won’t!” she screamed, the force of her voice taking me aback.r />
  I rose from my seat and walked towards her, my hands outstretched towards her gingerly.

  “It’s okay, Sylvia. It’s okay. We’re here.”

  “It’s not okay!”

  Tears were in her eyes. She held her shaking, arthritic fingers to her face and sobbed.

  “Please,” she said. “Don’t make me tell you what I saw. Don’t make me say it out loud.”

  I glanced back to Logan, his eyes darting between me and Sylvia.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said to Sylvia, laying my hand on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t ask you if we didn’t really need you to.”

  She sniffed and wiped the tears from her face.

  “But we have to know. If we’re going to find the children, we need to know everything. I know it scared you, but can you please tell us what you saw? For the children . . . ”

  She sniffed and nodded again, holding out a hand to pet Lafayette, who had jumped up onto the sink.

  “I suppose if it helps you find the children,” she said, stroking his uneven black fur. “But I don’t see how it can.”

  “Even the smallest bit of information could help us in a big way,” Logan chimed in from the table. She looked back towards him before settling her eyes back on his phone.

  “Moloch,” she said. “Is he what this is all about?”

  “Maybe. There’s still a lot to find out.”

  A chill crept over her and she pulled her sleeves down over her goosebump-covered arms. I too felt the temperature drop in the room and looked around to see if any of the windows were open. When I saw they weren’t, I shuddered. The energy in the room was changing fast, but was it because we were talking about Moloch? Or was I imagining it?

  “Do you mind if we go to the living room?” asked Sylvia. “It’s a bit chilly in here.”

  When Logan stood up, I noticed all the cats had disappeared. They were long gone, having left without making a sound. Even Lafayette was nowhere to be seen.

  Weird, I thought. I hope this doesn’t mean they know something we don’t.