He knew more about Macey’s “ability” than anyone else. She hated calling it an ability, but wasn’t that what it was?
He wrapped his arm around her. “You do that, boss. But don’t spend too much time alone out here.”
“No worries.”
Macey stepped out of the alley and into the courtyard. Undoing the second button on her once-crisp, cornflower shirt, she rolled her sleeves up to her elbows. A bead of sweat dripped between her breasts. Damn this heat.
She sat on the edge of the fountain and closed her eyes, letting the melody of cascading water clear her mind and open her soul. There had to be something there. Some clue she’d missed. The dead man’s energy tumbled through the air, teasing her, twisting, swirling, dancing around the edges of her senses. So close, yet unattainable because she couldn’t touch it.
Seven women. Four rapes, three attempted rapes. No words had been exchanged. A man with red eyes had grabbed them and assaulted them in an alley. For the first two, the story ended there. The perpetrators got away. But for the remaining five victims, the story took an unimaginable twist. A beast, they’d called it, or some kind of animal that moved so quickly they couldn’t identify it, swooped in and allegedly killed the attackers.
So, why was this the first body they’d found? In the four previous cases, the investigators had discovered nothing more than a pile of ash left behind. If an animal killed the rapists, where had it taken the bodies?
And where had the ashes come from? The lab hadn’t determined what they used to be, though they definitely weren’t human remains.
But the dead guy this time looked like…a dead guy. Why was there a body and no ash? There had to be something else to all these incidents. The women must have been leaving some important detail out of their stories.
But what was it?
An icy breeze tickled the back of her neck, raising goose bumps on her skin. She shivered and reached behind her to peel the sweat-soaked shirt away from her back. Probably a ghost. Maybe the attacker’s ghost. She’d heard of people who could talk to spirits. People who could manipulate energy and communicate with entities in other dimensions. She truly believed they could, though most called it bogus. People tended to only believe in things they could see.
Macey believed in spirits. When a person died, their energy had to go somewhere. Objects—buildings, furniture, trees, anything really—absorbed a lot of it. That kind of energy, she could see. Though, saying she “saw” it was a stretch. Images could appear in her mind, but not before her eyes.
She blew out a hard breath and rose from the fountain. Her ability had gotten her nowhere in this case. It took time for objects to absorb energy, and this string of crimes was happening far too rapidly.
Seven incidents within a three-week span. New Orleans was never considered the safest city in the world, but this…this was outrageous. She shook her head. She needed a vacation. A nice, long break somewhere cool. Maybe Alaska. Let Bryce handle this one. He excelled at old-fashioned police work, which this case obviously required.
Macey’s ability seemed useless.
She trudged toward the alley, berating herself for even considering a vacation. She wouldn’t abandon this case any more than she’d abandon—well, anything. If she’d learned one thing from her childhood, it was to stick by something or someone until the end. No matter what. She’d had first-hand experience with having her world ripped apart when the people she’d needed most left her alone, and she would never let it happen again.
A light breeze blew up the alley, making the sticky August heat minutely more bearable. Macey took a deep breath, welcoming the relief. The scent of cinder tickled her senses again. Thunder clapped in the distance, and an ominous black sky threatened to downpour at any second.
Her shoes squeaked on the cobblestone as she hightailed it back to where the body had lain. The cleanup crew hadn’t arrived to wash the pavement, so she had a chance. She closed her eyes and inhaled. The scent grew stronger.
She knelt, studying the cobblestone. This didn’t look like blood. Rain began to fall in thick droplets around her, splashing into the semi-dried coagulation.
Crap. Not yet! Where were her gloves? She glanced across the alley to find her bag resting twenty feet away, where she’d left it.
Thunder cracked as the droplets fell quicker. Macey reached out and swept her fingers through the muck that was once blood. Closing her hand, she darted under an awning to examine the substance. She rubbed her thumb across the tips of her fingers and brought them to her nose.
A quick sniff determined what she’d stuck her hand in wasn’t blood.
It was ash.
Sticking to the shadows, out of the detective’s line of site, Luke ran a hand through his hair as rain pelted him in the corner of the courtyard. The towering magnolia tree provided a shield from the downpour, but thick drops bounced off the waxy leaves and splattered around him. “You’re sure no one saw you?”
“Just the woman,” James said.
Luke looked at his friend. James was the quickest shifter and most skilled attacker in the pack. That’s why he was the lead wolf on the demon hunting team. He’d never considered James careless enough to mistake a human for a demon. Something didn’t add up.
“I trust you. The guy was most likely half demon, and it’s hard to tell on those. We’ll have to figure out where he came from—and who made him—if we’re going to stop this fiasco before the cops find out too much. If it’s the same person who’s summoning these new demons, we can stop it all with one punch.”
James shoved his hands in his pockets. “Let’s hope it is.”
“You too rattled to patrol tonight?”
He chuckled. “Nah. I’m good.”
Luke rested his forearm on the tree above his head and shielded his eyes from the rain as James trotted away. This was the same female that showed up at every one of these incidents. He’d been watching her for the past three weeks. Detective Macey Carpenter. Everyone in the Quarter knew who she was, whether personally or not. She’d busted more criminals since she’d joined the force than anyone he’d ever heard of.
Macey had a tough, no bullshit reputation, and he’d seen her around enough to know it was true. When she walked into a room, she did it like she owned it—with strength and confidence. Maybe a little too much confidence. She was only human, after all. She didn’t realize how fragile she was, and he was done with women like that. That’s what he told himself as the familiar fluttering in his stomach—that happened every time he saw her—had him leaning away from the tree, the desire to erase the distance between them pulling him from the shadows.
He shook himself to break the trance. The truth was, he found himself oddly attracted to the petite fireball. She may have been tough, but her feminine side always showed through, no matter how much she tried to hide it. She always wore her golden hair slicked back into that damn bun, but he could imagine what it looked like falling down around her bare shoulders—
Nope. He had to stop right there. When he did mate, it had to be with another werewolf. There was no way around the antiquated law. He’d be alpha in a month, and he had to have a mate for that to happen. He didn’t need to waste his time with a human. Especially one who had gotten dangerously close to discovering a secret she shouldn’t know. So why was he hiding in the courtyard, watching her like a stalker?
He told himself it was his job. The pack did its best to keep peace in the supernatural community and to keep their existence a secret from the humans. Psychics and witches may have found a way to coexist…exposing some of their powers to the mundane…but there was no way in hell people would be as accepting of a predatory species like his. He had to stop Macey from learning anything about the demons…and especially the werewolves. Keeping tabs on the sexy detective proved a nice bonus, and it helped to quell the odd feeling of possessiveness brewing in his chest. His wolf had decided she was his to protect.
Macey bent down to tie her shoe, and her s
hirt gaped at the second button, revealing the lacey edge of a light pink bra. He took a deep breath to slow the sprint of his heart. Not wasting my time with humans.
Still, he did admire the way her black pants hugged her curves as she strutted through the rain and into the alley before disappearing around the corner.
With Macey out of sight, Luke stepped out of the shadows and made his way toward the alley. As he passed by the fountain, he paused to take a deep breath. The scent of rain mixed with the magnolias’ sweet perfume smelled like summer in New Orleans. Like home. He smiled, relishing the downpour, even if it did add steam to the sauna of the Quarter.
The detective had found ash; that had been obvious from the curious look on her face as she’d swiped her fingers through the substance on the ground. A cop wouldn’t have put her hand in a puddle of blood. Luckily, though, she wasn’t able to save any as evidence.
And lucky for James, this confirmed Luke’s belief that he hadn’t killed a human. A heaviness lifted from his chest, and he tilted his head back, letting the rain fall onto his face. He wouldn’t have to punish his friend.
He strode to the spot where the half-human body had lain, but the demon ash had already washed away. He surveyed the area for any other signs of the supernatural but found none. The rain had taken care of everything for him; a steady stream flowed between the worn stones, twisting and jutting right, then left, before cascading down a storm drain.
Now, he had to get to the morgue and decapitate the body before the damn demon came back to life.
The chances of reanimation were slim—or so legend stated—but it was best not to take chances. Besides, he had no idea what one looked like on the inside. Maybe it didn’t have all the same human organs.
He had to get that body out of the morgue before the autopsy. And since the alpha was vacationing in Europe, Luke was the man to do it. His father had offered to come home when the outbreak started three weeks prior, but Luke assured him he could handle it. His parents had scheduled their two-month-long trip for right before his old man’s retirement so Luke could work out the kinks in his new leadership role before it became official.
Of course, his dad had planned the retirement three and half years ago—when Luke had a fiancée and actually met all the qualifications to become alpha—and by law, it couldn’t be changed. But if he could wipe out the demon infestation on his own, that would surely make his old man proud. This would prove to the pack that—mate or no mate—he was ready to be alpha.
He exited the alley onto St. Peter Street and turned right. His truck sat parked at the bar, and he needed to get to the morgue on Earhart. He fished in his pocket for some change and handed it to a bum huddled under an awning.
The man responded with a gnarled smile. “Bless you, sir.”
Luke nodded and stepped past him. As he rounded the corner, he glanced up to see a pair of gleaming crimson eyes watching him. He inhaled sharply, and a low growl escaped his throat. Though the figure looked like a man, the creature ahead was all demon.
Chapter Three
Macey tapped her pen on the desk and stared right past the case file she should have completed half an hour ago. What piece of this puzzle was she missing? She glanced at her right hand and ran her thumb across the pads of her first three fingers where the ash had been. She’d stopped by her house on the way to the station to wash up and change into dry clothes. And though the black residue had completely washed off on her trek through the rain, she could still sense the gritty substance on her skin.
A rap on her door brought her back to the present.
“Need some help with that paperwork, boss? We need to get it filed.” Bryce leaned a shoulder against the door frame and took a bite of a Snickers bar.
Macey shook her head. “Do you ever eat real food?”
Bryce examined the candy, turning it over in his hands. “Looks real to me. I can feel it. I can see it.” He held it up to his nose. “I can smell it.” He took a bite and mumbled with the chocolate in his mouth. “And I can definitely taste it. Wanna bite?” He offered her the half-eaten bar.
She wrinkled her nose. “No thanks. All you eat is junk food.”
Bryce swallowed the candy and snorted. “You’re one to talk. I’ve seen how many beignets you can put away in one sitting.”
She signed the last page of the file and stacked the papers without making eye contact with her partner. “That’s different.”
“How so?”
She looked into his eyes. “I eat healthy food too. You should think about taking some cooking lessons or something.”
“Nah.” He plopped into the chair across from her desk. “I need to find me a wife. Have a little lady in the kitchen making gumbo every night. That’d be nice. ‘Course, she’d have to quit her job so she’d have time to iron my clothes and take care of all the babies we’d be making.”
Macey bit her bottom lip. Ten…nine…eight…She knew he was messing with her. Seven…six…five…He was trying to get her riled up. Trying to get her to react. Four, three-two-one. Damn it, she was taking the bait.
She slapped her palms on her desk and lifted out of her seat. “You just keep on with that little fantasy, mister. And if you find a woman like that, you’d better keep her away from me, or I’ll knock some sense into her myself.” She dropped into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “Quit her job to take care of a man. Men can take care of themselves.”
“What?” Bryce raised his hands. “C’mon, Mace. You know I’d take care of her too. I’d make her real happy…if you know what I mean.” He raised his eyebrows in emphasis.
His goofy grin melted the tension in Macey’s chest. Why did she let him get to her like that? “Oh, please. You know you couldn’t make a girl any happier than BOB could.”
“Bob? You mean I’ve got to compete with another man for my imaginary wife?”
She laughed. “No, dummy. B-O-B. Battery Operated Boyfriend?”
“Bob.” He pressed his lips together and gazed at the ceiling. “Battery Oper—oh! I get it. Clever. And I’m offended.”
“No, you’re not. All done.” She pushed the file across the desk. “Any word on the autopsy report?”
And just like that, they were back to business. That was the good thing about working with a bunch of men. She could switch gears in the middle of a conversation, and they didn’t mind at all. And they didn’t gossip…as much. So she constantly had to prove her worth as a female detective. She’d done fine so far.
Bryce picked up the file and flipped through the pages. “You know they won’t get to it ‘til the morning.”
She groaned. “I know, but it’s killing me.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “After y’all left, I went back to the scene…where the body was. The blood was gone.”
“That’s good. Don’t want to leave the city dirty. The cleanup crew is working fast these days.”
“No, Bryce, listen. It hadn’t been cleaned up yet. I didn’t find any blood, but I did find ash. Ash…like at the other scenes.”
He gave her a puzzled look. “Ash, huh? Did you turn it in to evidence?”
She let out a long sigh. “No. The bottom dropped out as soon as I found it. Washed it all away.”
“Damn.”
She slumped in her seat. “Tell me about it.”
“Where do you think it came from? I’m sure there’s a logical explanation somewhere out there.”
Was there? She was beginning to wonder.
“Maybe all the attackers were carrying something,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“I dunno. Something burnt.” He flashed a grin and winked.
Macey rolled her eyes. “You think? But that still doesn’t explain why the blood was gone. It’s strange.” She rubbed her temple with two fingers, trying to ward off the impending headache that threatened to make her night even worse. “I’m wondering if it could be something…paranormal.”
Bryce heav
ed himself up from his seat. “What? Like ghosts? Did you see something out there tonight?”
She shook her head. “No. Nothing’s soaked in yet. I can’t see anything, and you know I don’t talk to ghosts. I…” She traced her finger along the faux wood pattern of her desk. He was going to think she’d gone insane. “I don’t think the rapists are human.” She bit her bottom lip and implored him with her gaze. It was the only explanation.
He stared at her and blinked. “Not huma—c’mon Mace. You know I believe in your ability or intuition…or whatever you call it, but that’s as far as I’m willing to go. If they weren’t human, they’d have to have been animals. And all the victims identified them as men.”
“With red eyes.”
“Contacts. Drugs. Or glare from the streetlights. Something.”
“You saw the body; they weren’t contacts.” Macey exhaled sharply and narrowed her eyes. She yanked open the desk drawer, grabbed her purse, and flung it over her shoulder. “Something’s not right about this, and I’m going to find out what.” She rose to her feet and strutted toward the door.
Bryce touched her elbow. “Where are you going?”
“To the morgue. I need to see the body.”
When Luke made eye contact, the fiend grinned and tilted its head before it shimmied up a drain pipe and crouched on a rooftop overlooking an alley. With the black sky as a backdrop, it appeared as nothing more than a fuzzy mass—nothing a human eye would detect. Luke held its gaze, watching its crimson eyes as it crawled across the roof and disappeared into the alley below.
Shit. The morgue’s gonna have to wait.
His beast wanted to take over. If he shifted, and stalked the demon in his wolf form, he’d have a better chance of making the kill. But the rain had let up, and locals and tourists alike were out, braving the steamy streets to make it to their destinations. There were too many people around. He’d have to chase his prey into the woods, where he could shift without being seen. He trotted up the sidewalk, and with his back to the wall, he peered into the passageway. The demon stood frozen, its back to the exit, as a growling wolf stared it down.
Werewolves Only: Crescent City Wolf Pack Book One Page 2