Death’s Sweet Embrace

by Tracey O’Hara

  His wolf form was as much a part of him as his human one. Raven threw back his head and let the wolf cry of freedom float into the night air before loping off into the woods. Once off the campus grounds, he decided to do a bit of exploring in the nearby urban areas. As he came to one street, a white cat rose up and hissed. It was time to get back at another feline by having a little fun with this one. It ran off down an alley and he gave chase.

  He did not intend to catch or actually hurt the cat, but a nip or two on the tail every now and then kept the small animal on its toes. The feline seemed to know it was just a game and never got too far ahead.

  As the cat tracked out onto another street, Raven came to a dead stop and lifted his head, scenting the air. The dark corruption of fresh blood filled his nostrils. The cat jumped up on a brick wall, its tail flicking back and forth; it began cleaning its front paw and pretending not to watch him.

  Raven loped to the nearby Dumpster where the scent grew stronger. It wasn’t enough to be a full body, only part of it—and the person who’d dropped it there had gotten into a vehicle and driven away, but not long ago. He didn’t want to disturb the forensics just in case, so he left whatever it was undisturbed. He could call it in to the police and let them handle it. But first, he needed to follow this trail to the source in case someone was in need of help.

  Raven tracked the scent across the street and down another alley. As well as the blood, he could distinguish traces of terror, and adrenaline. It grew stronger the further he went. He continued tracking the scent to a back door that stood open, and he scurried inside to investigate. The blood was strong and not long spilled, but it was dead blood. Whomever it belonged to was no longer living.

  Wait. Two kinds.

  He padded into a room filled with computers, following a new scent. An eerie bluish light flooded the room from glowing LCD screens. The body of a young girl lay slumped against the table in front of a computer, her head on her outstretched arm; her eyes stared off to nowhere and an ugly yawning gash split her lovely throat. Blood had pooled on the table and the keyboard was sitting in the middle of the tacky puddle. Arterial spray had sliced across the computer screen, slightly cooking on the hardware’s heat.

  It looked like she’d been sitting at the computer working when the killer snuck up behind and slit her throat. Raven returned to human form to examine the body as much as he could without touching her. The chest was intact, she had no other wounds he could see, and her blood wasn’t the blood he’d started following. Hers was sweeter, more innocent. She never knew what hit her. There was movement in the next room, familiar footsteps stomping as they moved around.

  “In here,” he called and stood up.

  Oberon appeared in the doorway within seconds.

  “What are you doing here, Fido?” The ursian crossed his arms and looked at the slumped figure.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  The canian was standing next to what looked like another body, and was completely naked. Oberon’s gaze fell to the yin-and-yang dragon tattoo on his chest—the mark of a Draconus Nocti operative.

  “Can I see the body, please?” Kitt said as she tried to squeeze past Oberon. She came up dead when she noticed Raven.

  “You’ve found the other body?” Raven asked, tilting his head.

  “Yes—in the other room,” Oberon said, not surprised. “But how did you know?”

  “This is not the campus killer; this is something else,” Raven said. “I tracked it from a couple of blocks over. You might find in the alley what it was she threw away; it’s in the Dumpster.”

  “She?”

  “I detected estrogen in the nervous sweat.” Raven moved out of the way so Kitt could examine the body. “She’s either human or pre-awakened, though I tend to think the former.”

  Kitt pulled the girl’s head from the sticky pool of blood covering the table. The gaping wound in the neck yawned wider as the head tilted back.

  “So, you don’t think it’s the same killer?” Oberon asked, knowing Kitt had just told him a spreader was used to open the rib cage.

  “I’m positive it’s not,” Raven said, peering closer. “There’re no traces of the pheromones found at the other kill sites, only the terrified sweat of someone who’s killed, but not for pleasure.”

  Raven glanced around at the banks of computers. “What is this place?”

  “It’s kind of a Web sex sweatshop dressed up as a software company,” Oberon said. “The owner, Carin Engels, employed several students from the campus on a part-time basis.” He looked at the naked canian, up and down again.

  “One second,” Kitt said and disappeared, then came back a few minutes later with his knee-length leather coat and a pair of pants. “Tones had these in his car.”

  “We discovered you were gone after the call came in,” Oberon said.

  He glanced up at them as he finished zipping his fly. “Call?”

  “Yes, someone phoned in an anonymous tip.” Oberon frowned. “A woman, in fact.”

  “That’s never happened before,” Raven said. “Could be our killer.”

  “Hmmm, interesting theory, but I think I’ll wait for the proof first. You’d better come see the other body, or should I say bodies? . . . I think you’ll be interested in one.” Oberon crossed his arms.

  “Right,” Raven said, frowning. “Let’s take a look, then.”

  “Are you okay here, Kitt?”

  She nodded to Oberon and waved them off, already focused on her task.

  Raven pulled on the coat Kitt had given him as Oberon led the way to the next office. Raven’s face screwed up when he saw the body of a bird on the floor, its neck broken and black feathers scattered everywhere. It could’ve been a crow or a raven, Oberon couldn’t tell, but the look on the canian’s face was worth it.

  “Very funny.” Raven sneered, then bent to have a look at the body.

  Oberon stepped closer for another look. Her dark brown hair lay in a pool of congealing blood. Kitt came in just as Tez entered, carrying her M.E. case. The two women greeted each other and began an animated discussion.

  Tez looked good. Real good. Oberon couldn’t remember exactly how long since they’d been together, but it’d been a while. Maybe too long. She was still pissed at him for standing her up the last time he’d had to follow a lead.

  Bianca came into the room next, her pale face hardening when she saw the body on the floor.

  She glanced up at Oberon, then back to the body.

  “Did you know her?” he asked.

  “Only by reputation,” Bianca replied. “It was rumored she dabbled in a little gray thaumaturgy to make her business more successful.”

  “Gray thaumaturgy?” Raven asked, standing up.

  Bianca’s gaze traveled up and down Raven and then flicked to Oberon, raising a questioning eyebrow.

  He gave her a slight nod.

  “Gray thaumaturgy uses the practitioner’s own blood. While it’s not exactly black magic, it isn’t exactly white either. There are no human sacrifices or the use of unborn fetuses, but it can involve some animal parts and other unsavory practices. Not exactly illegal, but a very fine line.”

  Oberon’s eyes never left Tez; he watched as she followed Antoinette into the other room.

  “So is it him?” Bianca asked.

  “No!” Raven said at the exact time Oberon muttered, “Possibly!” They looked at each other.

  Kitt showed Tez the body next to the computer. The M.E.’s raven hair spilled over her shoulder as she leaned in for a closer look.

  “She was killed quickly,” Tez said. “And there are no symbols that I can see either.”

  Kitt agreed and said, “I think her throat was cut before she even knew what hit her.”

  Tez straightened and stood from her crouched position beside the body. “Poor fecken kid.”

  “I’ll show you the other victim if we can get that lot in there to move out of the way.” Kitt led the medical exam
iner back to where the others were still gathered.

  Tez stopped and looked at the twisted little feather body beside the dead witch. “Why kill the bird?”

  “So the witch couldn’t use her magic,” Bianca said with more than a touch of something akin to sadness or regret. “She’d be powerless until she bonded with another familiar.”

  The ethereally pale Thaumaturgist stood away from the body and absently fiddled with the red-and-black egg-shaped pendent hanging around her neck.

  “Right . . .” Oberon said, breaking the melancholy mood. “Time to see if the victim has the wound in the back of her neck.”

  Tez and Kitt crouched on either side of the body and turned the dead witch. The skin was still slightly warm.

  There was the wound, but it seemed a little too messy. Kitt looked up at the others waiting intently for the verdict and shrugged. “Hard to say until an autopsy.”

  “Shit,” Oberon spat. “All right, we’ll let the forensic boys in to do the rest of their job. You okay with that, Tez?”

  The medical examiner stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “Feck, yes.”

  They were such an odd couple in some ways, and yet so perfect in others, Kitt thought. The top of Tez’s head barely reached the center of Oberon’s chest—and yet she had an outsized personality that would take none of his crap.

  “We’ll take over from here, DuPrie.” The VCU agent-in-charge sauntered into the room in a dark gray suit and mirrored shades.

  What the hell was with the sunglasses at night? Roberts is human.

  Raven glanced at the agent and quickly pulled back into the shadows. Roberts was so intent on the dead body, he hadn’t seemed to notice him.

  Oberon crossed his arms, the leather of his jacket creaking. “I was wondering when the smell of carrion would draw you out, Roberts.”

  He ignored Oberon and signaled his men with a wave of his hand. They filed in carrying equipment and cases for forensic analysis. “I can’t stop your people being involved in the autopsy, but we still have jurisdiction over the crime site.”

  Oberon’s expression darkened like the sky before a winter storm. Kitt could almost hear the rumble of thunder.

  “Okay, Dr. O’Connor”—the agent swept his suit jacket aside and placed his hand on his hip, then whipped off his mirrored sunglasses—“is this our guy or not?”

  The man had obviously been watching too many TV cop shows. Kitt looked at Tez; the corner of the M.E.’s lips curled as she stifled her own smile.

  Tez went all serious-faced as she turned to the agent. “It’s too early to tell, but there are similar markers.”

  “Hmm.” The agent turned his back on them. “I want everyone not VCU out of here.”

  None of Oberon’s people moved.

  “DuPrie, don’t make me call in the heavies.” Agent Roberts put the arm of his sunglasses to his lips.

  Oberon gave a nod and Kitt followed Bianca through the door and out of the building, the ursian right behind. Kitt could hear the heavy clomping of his boots on the floorboards. Bright lights zeroed in and camera flashes went off as the group left the building. Kitt shielded her eyes with her hand.

  The reporter Trudi Crompton stood before them, microphone in hand. “Can you please confirm the latest body is a woman?”

  Oberon held up his hands. “Sorry, you will have to direct all your inquiries to the head of VCU, Agent Roberts.” Then he pushed past her and the rest of the reporters to join his people waiting by the ambulance. EMTs were racing inside the building with stretchers to collect the bodies.

  “This is turning into a circus,” Oberon said as he approached.

  “I saw VCU,” Cody said. “How did it go?”

  “We had a good look at the scene before they arrived and got some good insights.” Oberon glanced around the gathering crowd. “What about out here—did you sense anyone who might have been involved?”

  “The tension in the air is what you’d expect,” Cody said. “But I’d rather talk about it when we get back to the Bunker. By the way, Raven stopped by and had me grab some surgical gloves and a plastic bag off one of the EMTs. He said to tell you he would pick that little something up on the way home.”

  “Good point,” Oberon said. “Let’s wait for the bodies to come out so we can see about the autopsies.”

  Kitt watched the faces in the crowd. Most were confused and shocked. But they were also terrified. The killer had struck again—this time, outside all expectations. Everyone was waiting in silence to see what was going to happen with the bodies.

  A buzz went up in the media as Agent Roberts exited the building. He put on his sunglasses as the reporters started snapping pictures.

  “Now I know why he needs those glasses,” Kitt said.

  “Gobshite,” Oberon said, borrowing one of Tez’s favorite words.

  “Is this the work of the same killer?” the tenacious Ms. Crompton asked.

  A stream of questions followed. The throng of journalists and cameramen was so focused on Roberts that Tez was able to slip past and join the team.

  Agent Roberts was in his glory. “At this point I think I can safely say we are looking at the same killer.”

  Oberon spat on the ground and glared at the well-dressed agent as he preened before the cameras.

  Another string of questions swelled as the press crowded closer to the agent.

  “What?” Kitt said and turned to Tez.

  She shook her head. “Don’t look at me. All I said was the markers possibly indicated the same killer, but there were some discrepancies and we would need an autopsy to confirm it. If he ends up looking like an idiot, not my problem.”

  “Oh, Tez, you’re evil,” Oberon said. “And I love it.”

  “No,” the agent continued, “I don’t know why he’s started killing outside the campus or why the murders are escalating—however, this business did employ many students from NYAPS. We will have an official statement for you once our medical examiner has performed her examination.”

  As he finished, the EMTs wheeled out the two stretchers, each bearing a black zipped body bag. Again, the press went into a frenzy of flashing cameras.

  As Tez grabbed Kitt’s hand, she said, “I’ll ride with the bodies. See you at the morgue?”

  “Sure,” Kitt said. “I’ll catch a lift with Oberon.”

  ***

  Raven waited in the Bunker for them to return. Only Kitt didn’t come back with them.

  “So do you have a death wish?” Oberon asked.

  “Not really.” Raven kept it cool. “Where’s Kitt?”

  “I dropped her at the morgue.” Oberon’s face thundered. Raven could see he was struggling to keep his temper in check, and thought of giving him his little present. Raven got up and retrieved a plastic baggie from the small-drinks refrigerator kept in the office and placed it on the desk in front of the big male.

  “I retrieved this from the Dumpster.”

  Oberon picked it up by the top and looked at the bloody clump of human heart inside. “We’ve never found the heart before.”

  “Like I keep saying, it’s not the same guy,” Raven replied.

  “He could be right,” Cody said. “The emotions I sensed from the crowd were mixed. There were the usual anger, fear, and terror, but also hate and a sense of relief. I interviewed a few of her employees in the crowd. Seems like she wasn’t that well liked. In fact, from what I could gather, she used to bully her employees and would often single out one to pick on until he or she either quit or was too stressed to perform and was fired. Then she would move on to the next.”

  “Hmm, doesn’t follow our normal victim pattern in any way.” Oberon frowned and scratched his goatee. “Let’s see what Kitt comes up with in the autopsy.”

  “Check this out,” Tones said and hit a button on the remote that turned on the large LCD screen.

  Trudi Crompton was reporting from outside the medical examiner’s office, and again Agent Roberts was her interviewee. />
  “What are your theories on this case?” Trudi asked.

  The agent turned to the camera.

  “Did he just do a head flick?” Tones asked. “I can’t believe he just did a head flick.”

  Raven couldn’t stop himself from chuckling along with the rest but leaned forward to listen to what the head of VCU had to say.

  “Well, Trudi, I don’t want to preempt the medical examiner’s findings, but I suspect what we have here is the work of a satanic cult, possibly dark witchcraft.” And then his lips parted and stretched into a for-TV smile showing off his perfectly straight, white teeth. “My men are cracking down on any and all such groups as we speak.”

  The footage cut away to a team of black-uniformed men crashing through the door of a thaumaturgical sorority, grabbing screaming and terrified young witches out of their beds or away from their studies.

  Oberon spun, his dreadlocks whipping through the air as he slammed his fist into the wall. The sound of cracking bones filled the room and a crater was left in the plaster as he pulled back a misshapen fist. The ursian shook out his hand, flexing it as the metatarsals popped back into place and healed.

  Raven sympathized. He’d used pain in the past to control rage, though he’d try to direct it on things that could take it, like punching bags.

  “What a drop-kick,” Cody said.

  “A what?” Tones asked.

  “It’s an Australian term for idiot, moron, or ass-wipe,” Raven said, keeping his eyes on the screen.

  “Yeah—what a drop-kick,” Tones said and grinned as he and Cody knocked knuckles.

  More images filled the screen—this time the raid of a Goth club, confused screams, and outraged objections were heard from the patrons being bundled into waiting VCU paddy wagons.

  “You got that right,” Oberon said with a groan. His hand was almost fully mended; just because Animalians healed quicker, it didn’t lessen the pain.

  The screen filled with the faces of Trudi and Agent Roberts again.