This kill might have been animalistic, but it was still murder to its very core.
I stumbled back from the body and forced my gaze up at the dark sky. I couldn’t bear to look at the warlock. Not anymore. “Looks like you were right about your wolf theory.”
“Unfortunately,” Dorian said softly. “Though I wanted nothing more than to be wrong.”
“What do we do?” I asked, voice cracking. “How are we going to figure this one out?”
Dorian sighed and pulled the tarp further away from the body, examining the wounds despite his clear unease in doing so. His back muscles were clenched tight, and he gritted his teeth like he was on the verge of throwing up. But I knew it wasn’t vomit he was trying to hold back. It was his craving for the fresh blood that had been spilled onto the concrete ground.
“The body is arranged the same way as the first, and the eyes have also been removed.” Dorian’s voice was tight but it was serious and focused despite his every urge to be anything but. “The claw marks on the neck are the same. Identical, really. That would be difficult to pull off, especially if the werewolf did this in a fit of rage.”
“Doesn’t that suggest that it wasn’t a fit of rage then?” I asked, turning back toward the scene of the crime, which I found easier to look at now that we were approaching this from a more methodical—almost clinical—standpoint.
Dorian nodded. “You’re learning fast. This was almost certainly planned ahead.”
I took a step closer and pointed at the mark that could barely be seen underneath the deep cuts. “At first, I thought the claws were just used to make the kill, but what if there was more to it than that? What if the killer was trying to hide the mark? It’s really hard to make it out.”
“Which means the werewolf was trying to hide the fact his victims are blood mages.” Dorian glanced up at me, beaming. “Good catch, Zoe. That didn’t occur to me.”
“And, if that’s the case,” I said, continuing now that I was on a roll. Pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, and I wanted to show Dorian just how much I could contribute in solving this thing. “Was the werewolf trying to hide the blood mark because it’s important? Maybe there’s some kind of link here. Maybe it’s someone the blood mages know.”
“That makes a hell of a lot of sense.” Dorian nodded as he pointed to the neck and then to the blood-filled sockets. “These murders were planned, and this wolf was trying to cover his tracks. The way the eyes have been removed? It reminds me of another serial killer case I worked.”
“Serial killer.” I shivered further into my jacket. “Is that what we’re calling this now?”
Dorian looked up and met my gaze, his face stony and serious. “Two bodies. The kills are identical. The bodies have been arranged almost theatrically. While it officially takes three or more murders to make a serial killer, the answer to your question is yes. I imagine that’s what we’re dealing with here.”
I swallowed hard as I stared at the eyeless gaze of the blood warlock on the ground. “So, you think the wolf will kill again.”
“Almost certainly,” Dorian said. “Unless we find him and stop him.”
Chapter 10
It wasn’t every day you discovered that you were hunting down a werewolf serial killer. Still reeling from the thought, I helped Dorian move the body from the alley and into the trunk of his car. Now that this case was ours to handle, we would take the victim to where the new version of the council had taken up residence. The body would be stored there until we had combed over the evidence, and eventually, we would transport it to the Blood Coven. Or, the Blood Hunter Coven. Whatever they were calling themselves.
I personally didn’t feel all that comfortable riding around Boston with a body in the trunk of the car, but that was what my life had become these days.
As Dorian shifted the gear into drive, a massive weight slammed onto the top of the car. The roof dented between us, and the harsh sound of crunching metal echoed like gun shots. Heart jolting, I stared up at the indentation just as another boom shook my seat.
“What the fuck is going on?” I shouted as the roof took another heavy beating.
“There’s something on top of the car,” Dorian growled through his teeth in an animalistic tone, sending my nerves skittering along my skin. Even though I was hyper-aware of Dorian’s vampire nature, I still never saw him succumb to it. He was always calm, measured, and in control. Seeing the rage boiling under the surface now sent a jolt of electricity through my veins.
“No shit, Sherlock,” I said as our attacker slammed on top of us again, metal ripping and crunching. I grabbed for the dashboard, holding myself steady as the car tipped sideways before landing hard on the wheels.
Dorian reached for the door handle and pulled his dagger from his sheath. And, for a moment, I swore I saw the flash of fangs within his mouth. “Stay here. I’ll take care of this.”
He opened the door and leapt into the night before I could get a word in edgewise. Heart hammering hard, I watched as he bent his knees and launched himself into the air. Another boom shook the car as he landed on top, and a loud roar split the night.
It was a werewolf. I knew it deep down in my gut without looking at the attacker on the roof. He’d seen us inspecting the body, and he’d come here to put a stop to our investigation, one way or another. And the another version of things certainly seemed to include both of us lying dead in the alley next to the blood mage.
And Dorian was taking on the creature all on his own. He was strong. I knew that without a doubt in my mind. Certainly stronger than several warlocks combined. But I also knew that werewolf venom could kill a vampire with a single bite. Just because Dorian was a cursed vampire didn’t mean he’d be immune to that. In fact, it probably meant the opposite. The curse was a curse, after all.
As another roar echoed through the alley, I made a spur-of-the-moment decision that squeezed my gut like a vice. I had to help him. Without thinking it through even a second longer, I ripped open the door and jumped onto the sidewalk, my dagger in my hands.
My blade flashed underneath the full moon as I stared up at the fight raging on the roof of the car. Fangs, blood, claws, fur. It was a whirlwind of violence that moved faster than I could follow. One moment, Dorian was perched on top of the werewolf, his eyes dilated, his teeth glistening with blood. And the next, the werewolf spun on top, holding his claws high in the air. My heart and breath froze inside my body, fear rocking me so hard that I almost collapsed.
This werewolf could kill my partner. The strongest person I’d ever met in my life.
“Stop!” I shouted, bending my knees into fight-stance mode. I narrowed my eyes as the battle stilled, and the werewolf raised his head. He stared at me long and hard, his thick body heaving as he snarled his jagged teeth. I tightened my grip on my dagger and took a step closer just as the werewolf’s yellow eyes went red. Claws raised high in the air, he tipped back his head and roared.
The sound shook the very ground beneath my feet. It was so loud that the entirety of Boston must have heard it. Dorian growled in my direction, launching to his feet with flashing eyes. His body brimmed with barely-contained anger, power rippling off his body like waves.
“I told you to stay in the fucking car, Zoe.”
“I wasn’t going to let you fight this creature alone,” I said, making a move toward the rear bumper. All I had to do was climb onto the back of the car, and we’d have the werewolf pinned. Sure, a single swipe of his claws could kill me in an instant, but I’d stabbed a vampire’s heart with this weapon. I’d just have to be quick enough to get a thrust in before he could launch an attack.
The werewolf’s eyes were like laser beams, burning into me as I put both feet onto the bumper and placed my hands on the edge of the roof. But just as I was about to climb onto the top of the car, Dorian let out his own animalistic roar, sinking his fangs into the werewolf’s back. The wolf screamed in rage and pain, twisting and turning and thrashing his arm
s.
He broke free. I braced myself for the wolf to turn this way, to launch his own counter-attack. But instead, he dropped to the ground and disappeared in a blur, his furry body melting into the moon-drenched night.
Dorian’s chest heaved as he lifted an angry gaze to where I stood half-perched on the rear of the car. “Zoe, I agreed to partner with you on the condition that you would do what I said. Not run half-cocked into a fight between a vampire and a werewolf.”
“I didn’t run half-cocked,” I said, jutting out my chin. “I had my weapon ready. Thought it was a perfect time to put my training into action, what with the whole werewolf attacking you thing. You could have died, Dorian.”
“No, you could have died,” he said, his voice harsh with emotion. “I can heal. You can’t. Not more so than a human.”
“You’re forgetting that I know what werewolf venom can do to a vampire.” With a determined sigh, I pulled myself the rest of the way onto the car and settled down beside Dorian. “I’m your partner. A shadow mage. Even though I don’t have your healing powers, I’m not a helpless human. Sometimes, you have to let me help.”
He lifted his head from his hands, the bucked metal creaking underneath us as he shifted to face me. “Yes, you’re a shadow mage, but you’re also one who refuses to use her power.”
“Well, I would have used my magic if it meant I could save you,” I said quietly.
“Oh, Zoe,” he said with a sad smile. “You wouldn’t have, but thank you for saying that. But there was no reason for you to do a damn thing. I’m wearing Sylvia’s ring.”
He lifted his hand in the air, showing me the diamond-encrusted ring that circled his finger. The one the book said protected the wearer from werewolves.
“Oh, shit,” I said, widening my eyes. “You should have told me you were wearing it. All I knew was that I couldn’t just sit in the car and not help.”
“You’re skin and bones, Zoe. Fighting demons is one thing. Fighting violent creatures with claws the size of your head?” He shook his head. “That has bad news written all over it.”
“You say that,” I said, “but I read that book you gave me. Shadow mages have a particular set of spells that work solely against werewolves. It’s in my nature to fight them. Bone mages are suited for fighting demons. Blood mages for vampires. Rising Sun mages for fae. And Shadows? We’re good against werewolves.”
“Then, practice,” Dorian said. “Learn. Embrace who you are. Until then, you don’t know how to take on a werewolf. You said yourself that you can’t control your magic.”
Sighing, I shifted my eyes to the ground, that familiar unease churning in my gut. It always went through me when I thought about who I was. Even after all this time, I still hadn’t come to terms with it. And even though my grandmother was the same as me, I couldn’t see it as anything other than a curse. Because no matter what I did, I could never forget what it had once whispered in my ear. It had wanted me to destroy Dorian.
Anything that put that idea into my head was something dangerous. Something I couldn’t give into no matter what.
“I just can’t,” I said, my voice tight. “I don’t want to give into my darkness.”
“One day, you’ll figure out that you don’t have to give into the darkness to harness your powers.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. “You’re so strong, Zoe.”
My heart flickered in my chest, and my entire body went warm. It had been months since we’d encountered this kind of attack, and the adrenaline running through my veins fueled more than just my urge to fight. With a sharp breath, I turned my head to search Dorian’s eyes for any trace he felt the same sort of tension I did. His mouth slightly parted, showing off the tips of his fangs. What would it feel like, I wondered, to have him feed from my neck?
“What are you thinking, partner?” He murmured softly, his voice barely heard over the din of distant traffic. “You know you want it. Deep down inside. Will you finally give in?”
My mind reeled. What were we talking about? My shadow magic? Or something else? His lips were so near that I couldn’t focus on anything other than his mouth, his body, his hands. All this time we’d been working closely, but I’d refused to entertain thoughts of anything more, except when I was home all by myself, wondering what he did all night when I wasn’t around and working on a case with him.
Did he lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, just like I did? Was he wondering what I was up to? Remembering the moment when our lips almost met?
Had we only come that close to kissing because I’d tasted his blood?
Or was there something more to it than that?
I yearned to know, but I could never bring myself to ask him, especially because a moment like that had never presented itself again. If he’d really wanted to kiss me, surely he would have tried again. Surely there would have been a moment of truth.
But there hadn’t been. And even now, our moment together on the roof of his car could be nothing more than this.
“I’m not ready to give in.” I ripped my gaze away from him and swallowed hard. “And I can’t say more than that.”
He let out what sounded like a disappointed sigh as he shifted away from me. “Well, we should probably get out of here. I’m sure the cops have been notified of the disturbance, and I’d rather not be questioned all night.”
“What about your FBI buddy?” I asked. “Wouldn’t he be able to divert attention elsewhere?”
“It was an animal roar,” Dorian said. “The FBI wouldn’t be called in for something as routine as this. Let’s go.”
I jumped off the car and landed on a pile of glass, the shards crunching underneath my boots. The werewolf had made a mess out of Dorian’s vehicle, but I had to admit, it could have been a hell of a lot worse. If the wolf hadn’t run off, there was no telling how much damage he would have done. Not just to the car, but to Dorian. And to me. And as much as I’d wanted to help my partner, I was relieved the werewolf had fled.
Curiosity and confusion sparked in my mind at the thought. Like Dorian had said, I was just a witch with a dagger, and the werewolf wouldn’t know I had shadow magic running through my veins. He had no reason to be scared of me.
“Dorian,” I asked as I hooked my fingers underneath the door handle. “Do you think it’s odd the werewolf bolted when I tried to join the fight?”
“He must have smelled your magic,” Dorian said. “I can’t because my curse likes to limit my abilities, but Daywalkers can. No reason werewolves can’t as well.”
I frowned, my mind flipping through everything I’d been reading the past few months. “The book never mentioned anything like that.”
“It’s a basic enough ability that the author of the book probably didn’t find it important enough to mention.” Dorian rubbed his jaw, sighing. “I don’t know, Zoe. This whole thing is getting stranger and stranger by the moment.”
“No kidding.” I looked up at the full moon, a big bulbous circle illuminating the dark city streets. Somewhere out there, a werewolf stormed through the night, doing goddess knew what. So far, he’d killed two blood mages, but would it stop there? Like Dorian, I didn’t think so.
“Come on.” Dorian slung his arm around my shoulder and squeezed tight. “We’re not going to come up with a plan standing out here in the cold.”
To emphasize Dorian’s words, a distant howl broke through the quiet alley. We didn’t have much time. Because even though the wolf hadn’t gone on an out-of-control rampage yet, I’d seen his yellow eyes. The wolf was hungry.
Chapter 11
“What the hell happened to your roof?” Laura asked as she slid into the backseat of Dorian’s car. Overhead, the metal sunk down in random spikes, evidence of the wolf’s anger. I’d tried to talk Dorian into asking the coven for alternative transportation, but he wouldn’t hear of it.
No time, he’d said. I couldn’t really argue with that.
“A werewolf attacked us,” I said, twisting to
face her. “A male. Pretty large but also on the skinny side. From what I could tell, he was angry and really fucking hungry.”
Laura’s face blanched, and she dropped back her head to stare at the roof with a newfound horror. “A werewolf? But I thought…”
“They don’t like to come into the city?” I gave her a grim nod. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”
“Trust me,” Dorian said as he pulled the car onto the road, his headlights swinging across the darkness. “That was a fucking werewolf. I saw him up close and personal.”
Laura shook her head, frowning. “How did you guys manage to piss off a werewolf? I thought they tended to keep to themselves.”
“This one is the blood mage killer, so I don’t think he tends to play by the usual rules.” Just like everything else right now, I thought. “Another body got reported. He caught us at the scene of the crime and tried to stop us.”
“Another blood mage is dead?” Laura whispered. Her face drained of color, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Shit. What’s going on, Zoe? Why is a werewolf killing us?”
“I don’t know, Laura,” I said. “But we’re on our way to the nearest werewolf pack to find out.”
The nearest werewolf pack was located in a coastal town called Seaport, Massachusetts. About an hour’s drive outside of Boston and a stone’s throw away from the infamous Salem, where shadow witches had once been burned at the stake. The little town was fairly small and pretty secluded, surrounded on all sides by thick woodland or ocean waves. Back when I’d been younger, Grams and I used to vacation there on mini-vacations while my parents were MIA.
Witch's Storm (The Bone Coven Chronicles Book 2) Page 7