Death’s Sweet Embrace

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Death’s Sweet Embrace Page 6

by Tracey O’Hara


  Kitt shoved her hands on her hips and planted her feet. “And what? Just let those people die?”

  “They died anyway,” he yelled back.

  “I would’ve saved that woman if not for that crazed eighties reject,” Kitt hissed. “And maybe if you and Dylan taught me to fight instead of wrapping me up in cotton wool, I could’ve taken better care of myself.”

  Oberon’s mouth dropped open. Surprise and hurt replacing the anger.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Kitt said softly and put her hand on his arm.

  I let them protect me. It was as much her fault as her brother’s and Oberon’s.

  Antoinette cleared her throat and flicked her gaze to Kitt’s chest. She realized a small group of stunned people gathered to watch the show, and if her coat crept open much more, they’d all get a peep show to go with the verbal boxing match.

  “Why don’t we go get cleaned up,” Antoinette suggested. “I have some spare clothes you can borrow.”

  Oberon’s brows relaxed and his face softened. “I think that’s a great idea. And when you’re finished, meet me in the conference room for a debriefing.”

  A shower was exactly what she needed to wash away all the blood, filth, and chill from her body. She followed Antoinette to the unisex locker room.

  The Aeternus undressed and turned on the communal shower faucet. Steam swirled in an enticing seduction of heat and Kitt noticed how frozen her toes were. Antoinette stepped into the stream and lifted her head, the hot water sluicing over her face.

  “God, that feels good for the soul,” she said and looked over her shoulder at Kitt. “Nothing like a hot shower to wash away the stench of dreniacs.”

  The tan coat was all that stood between Kitt and nudity. She shed the wrapper and stepped onto the tiled floor of the showers.

  Antoinette reached for the soap and worked it into a lather.

  The hot water slammed against Kitt’s skin like a thousand needles. It soon became a soothing steady stream, both relaxing and remedial as the knots in her shoulders loosened and the last of the chill left her.

  Antoinette continued to wash, turning around in the stream of running water. “You were pretty impressive tonight.”

  Kitt shook her head. “You fought them off, I didn’t do anything.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Antoinette’s hands stilled and she glanced at Kitt. “The way you went in after those humans. That took real courage. Never come between a dreniac and its food.”

  “But Oberon’s right, it was all for nothing,” Kitt said and let her head fall forward so the shower pounded on the back of her neck.

  “You tried, though,” Antoinette said, rubbing white foamy suds into her shoulders. “So . . . I take it you and Raven had a thing?”

  Kitt fought her instinct to turn away. Antoinette’s expression was neither accusatory nor judgmental. It was a simple honest-to-goodness question for the sake of the answer.

  “A long, long time ago.”

  “And this stuff with your family?” Antoinette cupped her hands to the falling water, her mouth open to catch the stream, which she spat out and glanced over at Kitt again.

  “What do you know about it?” Kitt asked.

  The other female shrugged. “I know your Pride placed a substantial bounty on his head because they believed he killed your husband.”

  Kitt picked up the soap.

  “Even though there was never enough evidence for the authorities to officially charge Raven with the murder,” Antoinette went on.

  “That doesn’t matter to the Pride,” Kitt said. “Human rules mean little and Pride law is complex and archaic.”

  “But you obviously don’t believe he killed your husband.”

  Kitt shook her head.

  Antoinette watched her face for a moment. “Does anyone else know Raven is the father of your twins?”

  Kitt dropped the soap in shock. For a moment she thought of denying it, but she had the feeling Antoinette would not be easy to convince. “How did you know?”

  “I pieced it together. The twins were found, what, three months ago? And shortly after, Raven shows up here and Oberon takes him in, just like that—” Antoinette clicked her fingers with a wet snap under the stream from the shower. “Then there was the way you reacted when you saw him, and the way he protected you in the alley. That cuts much deeper than just a quick sport-fuck.”

  Kitt nodded. “Of course Oberon knows, so did Dylan, but no one else does.”

  “That’s why you’re sure he didn’t do it?” Antoinette reached up and ran her hands through her wet hair.

  “Not exactly. We found Emmett’s body after spending the night together. The shock sent me into labor.”

  Antoinette didn’t seem at all surprised by this news. “How do you know he didn’t arrange your husband’s murder?”

  “Two reasons. First, if he’d wanted someone dead, do you think he’s the kind of male to get someone else to do it?”

  Antoinette shrugged, and then shook her head slowly. “I guess not.”

  “And second . . . he had nothing to gain. Emmett and I were husband and wife in name only. We protected each other’s secrets.” Kitt stepped from the shower and reached for a towel hanging above the wooden bench. “I loved Emmett, just not in that way.”

  Antoinette turned off the taps. Heavy drops falling into the water pooled on the floor and replaced the constant drum of the shower. She slicked back her wet hair and cocked a dubious eyebrow.

  “We were happy, but when it came to sex, I wasn’t his type. As I said before, Pride law is rather archaic, including their views on homosexuality. It would’ve been impossible for either of us to take a lover from within the Pride. So we used to get away to a human town a few hours from the resort. And that’s where I met Raven . . .”

  She trailed off, remembering the first time she laid eyes on Raven in the bar they used to frequent, but shook herself out of useless reminiscence. “It seemed the perfect solution at the time. The Matokwe Pack and the Jordan Pride had never been what you would call friendly, and Raven didn’t even get along with them. All that sneaking around also made it more exciting and . . . the sex really hot.” She whispered the last part.

  Antoinette grinned and wrapped a towel around her long, athletic body. “Did Emmett know about Raven?”

  “Yes. So did Dylan and Oberon. In fact, they all got along extremely well—until I got pregnant that is. Then things got . . . complicated.”

  “I guess it didn’t help that Raven disappeared around the same time as the murder, and especially because after the murder he was seen in the area?” Antoinette asked.

  “You really have done your homework,” Kitt said.

  “I got curious when Oberon brought him in, got Tones to do a check on him . . . so who do you think really murdered your husband?”

  “No idea.” She sat down on the bench. “Everyone liked Emmett. He was an expert in the old laws. What’s troubling is the similarities between the current deaths and Emmett’s murder.”

  “Probably just coincidence,” Antoinette said as she crossed the room and opened a locker. “Here, this should at least get you through your lecture tonight.”

  She passed Kitt a dark blue suit similar to the one she wore earlier. The pants were a little long in the leg and the jacket reached her knuckles but didn’t look too bad. As Kitt dressed, the Aeternus also pulled out a pair of Department sweatpants and a tank top.

  Before they left the locker room, Kitt placed a hand on Antoinette’s arm. “Please, don’t let on you know.”

  Antoinette gave her a small nod and a reassuring smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  ***

  Oberon met them as they came into the main office. It reminded Kitt of the law enforcement offices she’d seen on TV, complete with modern furniture and high-tech equipment.

  Tones sat in front of three computer screens, each one displaying something different, and he got up as they came in as
if he’d been waiting for them.

  “I’d better go prepare for class,” Kitt said, eager to escape sympathetic, concerned glances.

  Oberon crossed his arms over the massive expanse of his chest. “Can you stay a bit longer? I need your expert opinion.”

  Kitt looked at her watch. She didn’t have much time to spare.

  “It’ll take twenty minutes—max,” he said. “I promise.”

  “Okay. I can do that, but no longer.”

  He nodded his large head. Several dreadlocks hanging down his back fell forward. “Let’s go into the conference room.”

  Kitt followed Oberon, Tones, and Antoinette into the room to the right. Dominating the room was a long, wide glass table surrounded by a dozen high-backed leather swivel chairs. A large flat computer screen hung on the far wall displaying a slow-spinning Department of Parahuman Security logo.

  Oberon nodded in the direction of the screen. “While we aren’t officially on the Department’s books, we do have some connections. I’ll be back in a minute; I’m expecting another consultant.”

  “So, the captain’s pulled in the day shift.” Tones walked down the table and held out his fist to the surfer-looking guy in jeans, a T-shirt, and an open black silk shirt with a yellow fire-breathing Chinese dragon. “How you doing, dude?”

  “Hey, mate.” The sun-bleached blond man knocked knuckles with Tones in greeting.

  Kitt couldn’t quite place the man’s accent but it was familiar. She smiled at the ethereally pale Bianca Sin, head of thaumaturgical studies, sitting next to the stranger. She’d worked with her on a couple of cases for the Department. The witch was often called in to consult as a forensic thaumaturgy specialist. She acknowledged Kitt with a tip of her head—one professional to another. Kitt did the same.

  The man smiled as she sat across from him, his long sensuous fingers caressing the glass tabletop as he would a lover’s thigh. Stroking and touching. Her breath caught in her throat, her nipples tightened, and her heart beat a little faster. Why am I thinking of him stroking my thigh?

  “This is Cody Shields, our very own pet Australian Incubus.” Antoinette leaned forward, elbows on the table beside Kitt. “Hey, Cody . . . how ’bout turning the juice down a bit?”

  Australian, of course. She should have known.

  “Oh shit, sorry.” His accent only added to the surfer-boy charm. “Oberon called us in just as I was preparing to feed. I’m overly sensitive.”

  She’d never met an Incubus before, and the fact that she now felt a little uncomfortable meant he wasn’t trying to manipulate her emotions in any way, consciously or unconsciously. She leaned back in her chair, trying not to look like she was distancing herself. The last thing she needed right now was enhanced sexual desires.

  “Where’s Raven?” Cody asked.

  “Last I saw, he was chasing after a murderous Aeternus metal-head groupie who’d”—Antoinette growled—“attacked Kitt.”

  “Dark hair, eighties dress, fond of leather?” Tones asked with a frown.

  “Yeah, sounds like her,” Kitt answered.

  Oberon came in at that point, cutting off further conversation. He took a seat at the head of the table.

  “So, Captain, what’s up?” Cody asked.

  Oberon steepled his fingers under his chin. “It seems we have a serial killer in our midst—a sadistic, ritualistic murderer. I’ve brought in someone who’s got a theory.”

  A frail old man entered the room, his cane tapping on the floor with each step. Antoinette jumped from her seat to envelop him in what looked like a bone-crunching hug. Kitt recognized him as the well-respected academic of the ancient codex and NYAPS’s lecturer on modern CHaPR governance.

  “Rudolf! What’re you doing here?” Antoinette pulled back and smiled at him.

  Kitt was amazed at the brilliance of the Aeternus’s smile for the old man. It was nothing like the horrific visage back in the alley. Had it only been a couple of hours ago? . . . Somehow it seemed longer.

  The man was definitely human. And yet, Kitt got the impression he was even older than he looked.

  He patted Antoinette’s arm in a fatherly manner and moved to a nearby chair. “Patience, my dear. First things first. How’s your father?”

  Kitt could barely believe the wizened human’s voice held such command.

  Antoinette’s smile widened. “Grigore and Lisbet have gone to London to be with Nici for the birth of his and Tatiana’s child. Lisbet is so excited about the baby, she can hardly wait.”

  “Sounds like your cousin is getting used to life outside of captivity.” He patted Antoinette’s arm. “I’m so glad she’s blossoming. It can be hard for someone like her.”

  “Yes. But people are finally realizing that though she may look like a little girl, she is a lot older. They’ve started treating her more like an equal, though she still enjoys playing the innocent-little-girl card when it suits her.”

  Rudolf nodded sagely. “Well, being a century old and trapped in the body of a six-year-old must have its problems but—now I must talk to you all about something important.”

  His movements were deliberate and slow as he crossed the room and sank into the empty chair on Oberon’s right.

  Kitt tilted her head and watched him move. That cane is more a prop than a necessity.

  His head whipped around toward her. His narrowed eyes were cloudy with age, yet still pierced with a sharpness she’d seen in few others.

  Could he read minds?

  Just as quickly, his eyes switched to the Incubus, making her wonder if she’d just imaged it all.

  “We can’t wait for Raven, so I’ll brief him later,” Oberon said. “Kitt, you go first.”

  Chapter 7 - The Rise of Darkness

  As the ancient little man took his seat, Oberon leaned back in his chair, raising his arms and placing his hands behind his head as he looked around the table. Kitt eyed him as she rose to her feet; he could feel the sting in her gaze. She’d forgive him for Raven when she was over the shock of it all—realize that he could not have turned his back on Raven, a wolf with his talent. They would need all the skills they could get in the coming days if what Rudolf had told him earlier was true.

  Kitt cleared her throat. “The latest victim was a young ursian male, killed in the same manner as the felian male found in the campus hunting run just over two months ago.”

  The wide screen filled with an image of the two victims side by side. Oberon had had Tones dig out crime scene photos from the last murder and load the images onto a thumb drive Antoinette had brought in with images of the latest victim.

  Kitt glanced at the screen—surprise flashing across her face. Her eyes shifted to Tones, then she covered up being caught unawares with a professional mask. “As you can see, the wounds are identical . . .” She walked closer to the screen and pointed. “The victims were immobilized by a silver blade lodged in the base of the neck.”

  Underneath the main images was a row of small, thumbnail pictures. She touched four of them and they enlarged to replace the two large images of the victims. Now two of the four images showed the neck wounds, and the two others displayed the blade with a ruler, which illustrated its inch-and-a-half length.

  As Kitt went on explaining the similarities between the murders, Oberon zoned out. He’d seen enough to know this was the same killer and not just some copycat. What disturbed him now was how they would receive Rudolf’s theory.

  He watched the faces around the table. Each person had been handpicked for their skills, each agreeing to work for him. All except for Kitt. He’d intended to pull her into the team when things had settled down a bit. But now, with the murder and what Rudolf had told him earlier in the afternoon, his timetable was brought forward somewhat.

  Kitt had stopped talking and he realized everyone now faced him.

  His gaze locked with the old man’s steely eyes. “Why don’t you tell them what you know?”

  The old man nodded and rose to take a positio
n in front of the screen. “At the turn of the last century, an ancient tomb was discovered dating back to before the existence of most of our known sedentary civilizations. It was one of the most significant finds ever discovered, and in that tomb was a book unlike any ever seen.”

  “Why haven’t we heard of this before?” Antoinette asked.

  “The contents of the book were sealed by order of the Council of Aeternus Elders,” the old man said.

  “Why?” Antoinette asked.

  The old man nailed the Aeternus female with an unblinking stare. “I see you’ve still to learn the virtue of patience.”

  Slightly rebuked, Antoinette sat a little straighter under the scrutiny of her former teacher. Even Oberon found himself leaning forward, eager to listen again to the theory of this ancient human. Rudolf placed both hands on the cane in front of him, looked around the room, and continued.

  “As I was about to say”—he shot Antoinette a marked look—“it was a tomb of an ancient Aeternus king. The book is written in an ancient parahuman language, and describes a power so strong, so powerful, the very knowledge of it puts the world as we know it in mortal danger.”

  Like a master of theatrics, Rudolf took a moment to let the information sink in. Oberon had to admire the old man—he sure knew how to string his audience along. They all sat transfixed, hanging on his every word.

  “Several decades ago, the book disappeared from the secured vault of the CHaPR headquarters. No one knew how—what or who took it—but many theories were bandied about and no evidence found. The mystery was solved when the book turned up in what remained of a former NYAPS board member’s home.”

  Antoinette’s head shot up, her eyes growing large as she shook her head. “No.”

  The old man’s eyes softened at her distress. “That’s right, Antoinette. Lucian Moretti—the man who searched for a way to genetically annihilate the parahuman races.”

  Oberon pushed down the familiar feelings of helplessness he felt whenever his former captor was brought to mind.

  “But you have the book back now,” Bianca said. “What does it have to do with this serial killer?”

 

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