“Might have made him seem more humanitarian than anything, but he would have wanted to fly under the radar as much as possible. So he would have tried to make it seem like no big deal that he was feeding them, but when the deaths started he would have caught the attention of our cell.”
“Why use his name?” Sam squinted at the screen. “What’s so special about the Shemyaza Sausage King?”
“His MO? Provide something to lure in the food?” Damien brought up a second screen, checking Armitage Computing’s charitable efforts. “Look at this.”
“Homeless shelters receiving free food every Sunday thanks to Armitage Computing.” Sam cursed quietly. “Just like Charles Armitage.”
“Only how are they feeding on those homeless if they’re in shelters?” Damien tapped his finger on the desk, pondering all the ways a Shem could feed indoors, surrounded by people. “Not all Shem eat quickly. Some do so slowly, over time. We could be dealing with one of them.”
“If you and your friends stake out that shelter, you should be able to catch at least one of the Shem.”
“Preferably the one naming himself in honor of his ancestor.” Damien shook his head. “Finding out what kind of Shem we’re dealing with might help as well. If we can find out how he feeds it might help establish a pattern.”
“Sunday dinner seems about right.” Sam shrugged when Damien scowled at her. “What?”
Damien grunted. “There are a few types of Shem that feed slowly.” He leaned back and began thinking, running through his mental list of the types of Shem and how they fed. “Chameleons feed off the fear they generate, either by imitating someone or causing night terrors. Incubi will seduce their prey and feed off their souls.”
“Considering it’s a homeless shelter, I’d say let’s cross off Incubi.” Sam was tapping the list into her tablet. Was she keeping it for future reference, or to run by Beth?
“Legionnaires feed off life energy. If they’re careful, they can do so on the sly, and it looks like their victim has died of some kind of wasting disease or fast-acting cancer. Oracles feed off of artistic talent until it’s gone, and the victim suicides.”
“Another type we can cross off.” Sam tapped the tablet. “What about Knights?”
Damien shook his head. “They feed on blood. That one is hard to hide in public.”
“Oh.” She shivered. “Suddenly I find myself Team Jacob.”
“What?” Damien had no idea what she was talking about.
“Never mind.” Sam began writing again. “What other kinds are there?”
“Well, Azar, like Rafael, feed off of the flesh of their victims.”
“Ew.” Sam made a motion. “Cross them off.”
“And Angelus, like Seth, will use their wings to suck away the victim’s life force rapidly. It winds up looking like death via seizures.”
“Okay, so probably not them.” Sam looked at Damien. “Which type are you?”
He sighed. “I’m a Malachi, and you can add that to the list. A Shem Malachi feeds slowly on the soul of its victim. The result can look like Alzheimer’s, paranoid schizophrenia, or similar dementias and mental health issues.”
“All of which you find in the homeless population.” Sam bit her lip. “Are we looking for a Shem Malachi?”
“Maybe.” He hated the possibility, but this wouldn’t be the first Shem Malachi he’d been forced to hunt down and kill.
“Where’s the homeless shelter? What’s its name?”
He glanced back at the screen. “Armitage House Shelter.” Damien began typing again, aware that Sam was now leaning against his shoulder, her warmth seeping into him. “Okay. Looks like it’s got permanent and transitional shelters for the physically and mentally disabled.” He whistled the further he read. “Look at this. It was founded in the name of Charles Armitage, who fed the hungry and the poor behind his sausage factory.”
“Damn. They’ve got live-in food and take-out, and no one would question why residents die.”
“Clever. Very clever.”
“Does that mean that the type of Shem doesn’t matter any longer?” Sam looked at her list again. “You could have different types of deaths, some fast, some slow, and none would be the wiser.”
“Which could mean we’re dealing with more than one Shem.” Damien couldn’t believe what he was contemplating, but it made perfect sense. “We’ve got a fucking family of them.”
“This can’t be the only place they’re feeding from, either. Think about it. If they’re smart, and they seem to be, they’d spread that feeding over multiple spots.”
“I agree.” Damien began searching for other homeless shelters sponsored by Armitage Computing, and came up with two others, one a transient, thirty-day maximum women’s shelter, and another one for men. “All three Armitage House shelters are dedicated to Charles Armitage.”
“All of this has got to be public knowledge, though. Something they’d expect you to put together.” Sam didn’t look happy. “There has to be more to this.”
Damien nodded. “Let’s run this past Dante and Piotr. Maybe they can shed some insight.”
“Email?”
Damien shook his head. “No, that’s too easy to hack. We’ll meet.”
Sam stood. “I’ll call and have Beth and Abby come over, too. We can get Seth to check the buildings themselves, like the blueprints, see if there’s anything unusual about them. Those should be a matter of public record, right? As an architect, he should be able to spot any hidden areas or secret rooms.”
“God, I love a smart woman.” Damien kissed her quickly. “Go, make the phone calls. I’ll give Dante and Piotr a call. You have your girls’ day while I deal with this.”
“Hmph. Girls’ day. I’m going to have Beth continue to give me shooting lessons.” Sam practically bounced out of the security room.
Damien heard the door shut behind her. He made sure the lock was engaged once more before calling Dante.
This was turning out to be more than a quick hunt. If this was a whole family of Shem, how in the hell was he supposed to keep Sam safe?
“Zucco.” Dante’s deep voice and crisp response told Damien that the man was on the job.
“Damien. We’ve got info you’ll be interested in hearing.” He kept it short and sweet so that Dante’s new partner wouldn’t hear a thing about Neph or Shem.
“I’ll be there when I’m off. Should I bring beer?”
Dante was playing it like a poker game at a friend’s house. “Sure, and some manicotti would be nice, too.”
“Fuck you, culo.”
“Love you, too, baby.” Damien made kissy noises into the phone, laughing when Dante hung up. Still chuckling, he dialed Piotr’s number.
“Zdrastvooyte, Damien. How may I help you?”
Piotr’s voice was far warmer than Damien ever remembered it being. Perhaps he was responding to the warmth Damien was trying to show him? As a Cambion, Piotr fed on and experienced the emotions of others. “Hey, Piotr. Sam and I have got some info on our Armitage connection. We think you’ll want to hear it, maybe lend a hand in this.”
“I will be there.” Piotr said something to someone else, possibly his assistant, before coming back online. “I’ll be there in three hours. Yes?”
“Works for me. Thanks, brother.”
“Prebyvaniem bezopasny, moĭ brat.” Piotr hung up, leaving Damien to start setting things in motion. The others would need to know what was going on as well, but with Sam calling in Seth, there was only Zeke, Rafe, Micah, Gio, Sasha, and Gabriel to summon. Zeke was at his job as a school teacher, Sasha was a reporter, and Gio was a detective like Dante. Unlike Dante, Gio was a Lieutenant, higher up in the organization, and ran vice rather than homicide. Micah ran the cell with Gabriel, doing only God knew what, but he never seemed to be hurting for cash so Damien assumed his work was legitimate.
He began calling the ones at work, informing them that they needed to be back at the mansion by five. If things went too long th
ey’d order pizza or something rather than force Sasha to cook again.
All of his ducks in a row, Damien stared one last time at the screen. Armitage. He didn’t think he’d ever forget that name. Part of him hoped it was an Armitage he’d killed that day in Sam’s neighborhood. It would be the first blow in his war against them.
He wanted them to suffer for trying to harm Samantha. And he’d make sure each and every one of them did.
Chapter 19
Seth and Abby arrived first, Gabriel’s face lighting up with delight when he saw who they’d brought with them. Abby had her newborn with her, a tiny girl named Rose. Seth kissed Abby on the forehead and headed for the dining room, where the rest of the Nephilim were gathered.
Sam hugged Abby. “You look tired.”
Abby snorted out a laugh. “Newborns. They sleep maybe two hours, feed every two hours, poop weird colors, and make Daddy a nervous wreck.” Abby had given birth just two weeks ago, just as the home Seth was building for them was finally completed. Talk about timing. “But the nursery is, like, gorgeous.”
“I know. I saw it.” Done in an angel motif, the soft colors were perfect for a child’s room. “Now, let me hold the baby.” Sam made gimme motions at the soft pink blanket-wrapped bundle.
Abby sat on the sofa and put the baby carrier on the coffee table. “She’s sleeping right now, but when she wakes up I’ll let you feed her.”
“You’re breast feeding, right?” Abby had wanted to do that, but Sam hadn’t bothered to learn anything about the process other than putting the baby’s mouth near a nipple and waiting for milk to come out.
“Yeah. I pumped some milk before we left.” She reached down into the diaper bag she’d set on the floor. “Speaking of which, we need to refrigerate this.”
Sam took the bottles. “I’ll do that. You wait here for Beth, okay?”
Abby nodded wearily and leaned back against the sofa. Her eyes were closed before Sam left the room.
Sam put the milk in the fridge and headed back toward the family room. She found the children staring at Abby and the baby. “Hey, guys, don’t wake them, okay?”
Abby frowned and opened her eyes. “Who are you… Uh, hi.” Abby stared at Sam, wide-eyed with surprise and curiosity. She turned her attention back to the children, smiling sweetly at them. “Hi. I’m Abigail, but you can call me Abby.”
“Hi.” Nate, ever the cheerful, outgoing one, held out his hand. “I’m Nate.”
Abby shook his hand, then stared at Elsa. “And you are?”
“Elsa.” Elsa was staring at Rose. “Is that your baby?”
“Yup.” Abby’s smile turned proud as she glanced down at Rose.
Elsa scrunched up her nose. “She’s kinda wrinkly.”
“And she smells like poop.” Nate wrinkled his nose as well. “Why does she smell like poop?”
A deep, masculine laugh sounded nearby, and Rafe appeared. “Okay, guys, let Abby get some rest.”
Abby stood. “Oh my God, you must be Rafe. Seth’s been worried sick about you.” Rafe had been missing for so long that Abby must have never met him before.
“And you must be Abby.” Rafe opened his arms. “Give brother Rafe some sugar, sugar.”
Abby laughed and hugged him. “Oh, I see why Seth likes you.”
“Seth’s going to beat him stupid if he doesn’t get his ass in here and his hands off his woman,” Seth’s voice rang out from the dining room.
Rafe laughed and winked, letting Abby go. “I’m taking care of the kids. You guys start without me.” Rafe held his hands out to the kids. “C’mon, guys. I think there’s some strawberries and juice boxes in the kitchen with our names on them.”
Nate bounced over to Rafe, but Elsa squinted up at him. “I like nananas.”
“Bananas. Ba,” Rafe corrected gently.
Elsa frowned. “Banananas.”
Rafe laughed. “Close enough.” He led the kids out of the room, talking quietly to them the whole time.
“Who are they, Sam? Seth didn’t mention that Rafe had kids.” Abby glanced down at Rose, probably to see if the commotion had woken the baby.
“They aren’t his, they’re—” The doorbell rang before she could explain. “Hold on, that’s probably Beth and Dante.” She answered the door, letting Beth and Dante in from the cold. “Hey, Abby brought the baby.”
Beth pushed past her so fast Dante had to stop Sam from falling. “Elizabeth.”
“What?” Beth was cooing down at the baby carrier. “Who’s a cutie? Oh my God, look at those eyes.”
Sam darted past Dante. “She’s awake?”
Dante walked past them, shaking his head. “You’re never getting your kid back, van Licht.”
Sam ignored them as Abby clicked the restraints holding the baby. They opened, and Abby picked Rose up. “Here, Sam.”
Sam carefully took hold of the baby. “Oh, how beautiful she is.” Sam smiled, rubbing her nose against the baby’s. “Hello, Rosie.”
Rose stared at Sam, her little body moving in Sam’s arms. Her eyes were so blue, her little pursed lips so cute, Sam couldn’t help but sigh.
“My turn.” Beth held out her hands. “Come to Auntie Beth, Rosie.”
Sam handed the baby over, well aware Beth would kill anything or anyone that threatened that child. Rosie was in the best hands with Beth. “Want to get the bottle ready?”
Abby nodded and followed Sam into the kitchen. “So, Sammie, why are you here and not in your house?” She bent down and greeted Precious, who immediately rolled over for belly rubs. “Sorry, baby doll, I can’t quite bend that far yet.” She stood up, her fist at her back. “I’m still in some pain from the birth.”
“I bet.” Sam got the bottle out of the fridge and filled Abby in on what had happened to her. “I was looking into Armitage computing for Damien, and the Shem caught wind of it somehow. They came to my house, but I got out before they got to me. Damien picked me up and brought me here, and I’ve been here ever since.”
“Hell.” Abby’s expression turned frightened. “Sam, it is probably the safest place for you, but don’t forget what the guys fight. We need to start our weapon training again.”
“I agree. I was hoping Beth would work with us while the guys talk.”
“We can ask Gabriel where the best place is.” Sam watched as Abby warmed the milk under hot water, turning the bottle every now and then to make sure that it wasn’t too warm. “They’ve got weapons here, so they must practice somewhere on the mansion grounds.”
“Good idea. I can leave the baby with Seth and we can get our gossip, I mean, our shooting practice done before they are.”
Sam laughed. “Good idea.”
Beth walked in, the baby still cradled in her arms. “You banging Wyatt yet?”
Sam stopped laughing as her face heated up. “No! I mean, we’ve kissed, but that’s it.”
“What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation? The dude wants you, right?” Beth pushed her glasses up.
Sam made a sound somewhere between a squeak and a groan.
“Leave her alone, Beth.” Abby took Rose and tipped the bottle toward the baby. As Rose began to drink, Abby winked at Sam. “She’ll get laid soon enough.”
“Oh my God, just shut up.” Sam ran her hands over her face. “I’m going to ask Gabriel if we can go shoot something, okay?” She stomped out of the room before either woman could make another comment on Sam’s sex life, or lack thereof.
She made her way to the dining room and found the men sitting there silently. Seth had his head down, his shoulders shaking. Piotr, who must have arrived after Sam headed for the kitchen, was looking at her with a wicked smile. Zeke had his head on the table, Sasha was covering his face with his hands, and Gabriel was watching them all with an amused expression.
Damien’s face was beet red.
Dante was the only one who could meet Sam’s eyes, but even he had an unholy look of glee on his face. “You need something, sweetheart?”
Dante laughed. “Solo cazzo il suo già.”
Damien flicked him the finger. “Stai zitto, stronzo.”
Gabriel sighed. “Children.”
Sam was too busy staring at Damien. “You speak Italian?”
Damien nodded, the redness fading. “Among other languages, yes.” Sam shivered, and Damien’s eyes narrowed. “What language would you like to hear?”
Sam gulped. “Oh boy.”
“Sammie? Did you talk to Gabriel yet?” Abby came in the room, Rosie over her shoulder. The baby was cooing and sucking on her thumb while her mama gently patted her back.
“No, not yet.” Sam took a breath and tried to ignore the desire to hear Damien speaking in different languages. “Um, where Beth can take us practice shooting?”
Dante immediately scowled. “Shooting what?”
“Spitballs.” Beth stepped into the dining room, her hands on her hips as she stared at her fiancé.
Gabriel held up his hand before another fight broke out, this time between Dante and Beth. “Yes. You can use the firing range. Damien, please show them where it is.”
Damien nodded and stood, smiling when Abby handed Rose over to Seth. “I’ll get Sam the gun I had in mind for her, too.”
Gabriel waved them away.
Damien headed to the security room. “Wait here.” It didn’t take long for him to return with a black-barreled gun with a black plastic grip. “This is a Ruger .22 LR. It’s got an eight-bullet capacity, firm trigger, and is good for someone who’s just starting out. Also, it’s perfect for conceal and carry, which we talked about.” He glanced at Beth. “I want Sam to get a license for a CCW.” Damien handed the gun to Sam, showing her the safety, which was on. “I’ve also got some bullets for you.” He handed her a box of .22 copper-plated bullets. “I’ll show you where the firing range is.”
Damien led them outside and around the back of the house. Beyond the patio and behind a thick wooden wall, Gabriel had set up an outdoor firing range.
Damien kissed Sam softly. “Be careful. I have to go back, but I want to hear how you did when you’re done.”
Speak Thy Name (The Nephilim Book 3) Page 17