I wipe a hand down my face, glad that no tears are falling. Blake wouldn't want me to cry over him. Blake Damon. When he first swept into my life, I thought he was cocky, full of himself, a bit pompous. And he was all of those things, but he also became one of my closest friends. I turned to him so many times with help with so many things. His knowledge of the supernatural underworld had been much more vast than mine. When something else arises because something else will, I'm sure, my first instinct will be to call him, only he won't be there to answer.
A familiar aching feeling settles in my chest. If anyone knows loss, I do, and I hate that about myself.
Just yesterday, I called Blake. Something told me too. It’s terrible to say, but I usually only call him when I need his help, his expertise.
He didn’t answer.
A woman I never heard before said, “Hello?”
Her voice, her unfamiliarity… I just knew.
“Who is this?” I demanded.
“I’m… Hi. I’m Gracie.”
“Blake’s dead, isn’t he?”
“How did you know?”
I closed my eyes. “I just did. How?”
“V-V-Vampires.”
I drove out by myself to hide the dead vampires and take care of everything. I brought Blake back to Bethlehem, but he hasn’t been buried yet. There’s a lot of red tape with funerals that I hadn’t realized before, not even with my parents and their burials. I’m hoping to find a way around the red tape, but I haven’t had much luck yet. If I’m lucky, Blake will be buried in a day or two. I need to let Gracie and her boyfriend Mason have time to make the trip out here for the funeral. I have a feeling Blake would want the couple he died to protect to be there.
My blond hair falls forward, and I quickly reach up and start to braid it to keep it away. It's a force of habit for me to have it tied up in some fashion, but maybe for the wedding, I'll let it hang loose.
The wedding. I'm getting ahead of myself. First things first, I need to propose to the guy.
With a carefree laugh, I finish securing my braid.
“I hope my asking doesn’t mean I’m supposed to get him something. I always thought engagement rings are a bit unnecessary. The wedding rings are what’s important. You guys would’ve been married for… I don't even know how long, but you two should've died when you were old, in your eighties at least, in bed together, holding each other's hands. That's what you two deserved, and I'm sorry that didn't happen for you."
Footsteps sound behind me, and I don’t bother to turn around.
“Diego,” I say.
“Good guess. How did you know it was me?” he asks as he moves to stand beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“Who else would be prowling the cemetery at this hour?”
“Besides you? Not too many.” He tweaks my nose.
“How romantic.” I slap his chest.
“I can be romantic when I want to be.” Case in point, he hands me a box.
I open it to learn it’s a box of chocolates. “Thank you, but how many did you eat?”
The moon shines on his face as he quirks his lips. “Just one.”
“I guess that’s all right,” I tease. “I might let you stick around.”
“There’s a chance you won’t?” he presses, smirking.
“On second thought…” I place the chocolate box down to the side and stare up into his handsome face, and the words just slip out. I originally intended to ask tonight in bed, but why not here? Some would think a proposal in a cemetery is a bit morbid, and maybe it is, but it fits us. It fits me. “I love you, Diego. Let’s get married.”
He gapes at me for a split second and then shakes his head and mumbles something in Spanish.
I lift my eyebrows. “I don’t know what you said, but I also didn’t hear sí.”
Diego heaves a sigh and gets down onto one knee. “You’ve stolen my thunder, mi amor.”
I blink. He’s never called me that before.
“I love you, Clarissa. You made me ask you out for months and months before you agreed to go out with me, and now you try to pop the question.”
“Let me fix that.” I grin and throw him a wink. “Diego, will you marry me?”
He scowls, but his eyes are sparkling. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re a bit of a handful, but you’re my handful, and you need someone to cover your six. I want to be that person for you. Together, we’re unstoppable, and I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.”
“You’re repeating yourself,” I murmur.
“Yes, well, cut me some slack. You caught me off guard, and I had a general idea of what I wanted to say, and now I’m all flustered.”
He reaches into his pocket and removes a jewelry box.
“I bought this before everything with Blake,” Damon says. “I was waiting for the right time. I knew you wouldn’t want something over the top.”
I grin and shake my head, thrilled and more in love with this man than ever before. Diego knows me, respects me. He knows I don’t need huge, lavish signs of love. It’s the little things that count the most.
Diego opens the box to reveal a large sapphire rock.
My heart skips a beat. Does he know me or what? Because I am not a diamond at all. Given my demon side, a ruby might be more fitting, but I love the sapphire. It's more in the middle.
“Diego, it’s beautiful,” I gush. “You don’t think the stone’s too big, do you? I don’t want to wear a huge rock and tempt any thieves.”
I wince. A robbery gone wrong is why my parents had been buried six feet under well before their prime.
Their murders are the reason why I became a cop in the first place. I’m a detective now. For the longest time, I wanted to work homicide, and I do too some extent. I'm the head of the Special Investigative Unit, SIU. My boys and I handle all sorts of supernatural creatures.
Diego is a part of my crew, but he’s as human as they come. Not that that matters to me one bit. He’s one of the very few humans to know that there’s an entire supernatural community living alongside us in secret.
Throughout the years, I've learned and met so many more supernatural beings. Witches, fairies… Not all of them are evil, just like not all humans are evil. Although that David Jameson who killed my parents was evil. I mean, I'm not evil, and I'm part demon.
“As if you can’t kick any would-be thieves’ asses,” he says with a laugh. “Miss Second-Degree Black Belt.”
“Yes, well, you have a long way to go, bucko, what with your orange belt.”
“Cut me some slack. I only just started training. You’ve been doing martial arts for years!”
“And I can whoop your ass.”
“Only because I let you.”
“Boy, you know that’s not true.”
Diego grins. “Will you finally just say yes already so I can get off my knee?”
“I asked you,” I protest.
He lowers his head and sighs. “You did. Yes, Clarissa, I’ll marry you. Will you wear my ring?”
“Yes.”
Diego slides it on, and I help him to stand. He kisses my forehead and hugs me close.
“Are you happy?” he murmurs.
“Yes. Happy enough that I might keep you.”
“You might not?” he presses, smirking.
“There’s no ring yet,” I say, lifting my left hand.
“Uh, are you blind? There is a ring on that finger. I just put it there!”
“Yes. One ring.”
“There will be a second.” He hesitates. “When you thinking about getting married?”
"You want to start making wedding plans now? Here?"
Diego looks around us and chuckles. “Why not?” he drawls. “Besides, we proposed here, so…”
We both laugh.
He releases me and takes out a cigarette. Like always, he doesn’t bother to light it. It’s such a common sight that I don’t think much of it most of the time, but I not
ice it now.
“Why do you do that?” I ask curiously.
“Do what?” he asks around the cigarette.
“Never light up. I mean, I’m glad you don’t. I don’t want to lick an ashtray when I kiss you, but…”
“I can tell you this. It’s a symbol.”
“Is it now?” I cross my arms and lift an eyebrow.
Diego nods. He’s an excellent bull shitter, but I think I’m gonna be calling bull on this story. “Cancer has taken too many of my family over the years. Especially lung cancer. Not even all of them were smokers. I like to have this death stick near me to remind me to always live life to the fullest.”
“Is that so?”
He nods slowly. “And maybe because my hero growing up was Uncle Mateo. He was the one to do this first because his twin died from lung cancer. Uncle Santiago did smoke, but Uncle Mateo never did. They used to fight each other like they were bulls over it. Uncle Mateo hated cigarettes. Hated them. I think he even told Uncle Santiago once that he hated him for smoking. That was right after Uncle Santiago told him about the cancer.”
“Oh, wow.” I hesitate.
“Go ahead,” Diego says sourly. “Ask.”
“No. I believe you.”
“You do?”
I nod.
“Whatcha thinking about, chica? You’re frowning.”
My lips curl into an uneasy smile. “I don’t like hearing about there being so much cancer in your family line.”
“Aw, you’re worried about me. Must be love,” he teases.
“Don’t joke.” I slap his arm. “Can you believe what I’m willing to put up with?” I ask my parents.
Diego laughs and holds out his hands. “You know you love me.”
“I must if I want you to live until you’re old and gray,” I tease.
“I’ll look distinguished with gray, don’t you think?” He runs a hand through his dark hair, his dark eyes glittering in the moonlight.
“You probably will.”
“Probably? The salt-and-pepper look will be my look. I’ll own it.”
“No dye job for you?”
“No. Always natural, chica. That’s me. What you see is what you get.”
“Hmm.” I give him a slow once-over and circle around him, checking him out.
Diego is taller than I am, and I’m tall for a woman. He’s powerfully built, having put on more muscles over the years. I have too. We both train at the gym my best friend works at as a fitness trainer. Samantha Rivera. I’ll have to call her and ask her to by my maid of honor. She got married a month ago to her boyfriend Leo, shortly after the last crisis ended before this period of peace. Leo's a book cover model. Kind of crazy to think that he can make a living from that, but even I'll admit that he's hot. They had some issues to sort through, Sam and Leo, considering a demon forced her to do all kinds of things, including breaking up with Leo and pushing me away, but they worked through everything. That's how I know they'll last. Wait. Since she's married, she'll be my matron of honor. I think.
“Well?” Diego demands.
I laugh. “Am I giving you a complex?”
“You can give me anything you want, but how about that date?”
“I always thought it would be nice to get married in August,” I whisper even though I know that’s crazy because today is the last day of June.
“August? As in a month from now?”
I take a half-step back. “Why? You want to wait until next August? Over a year?”
"I just have a lot of family members to try to get to come, and some will have to fly from Puerto Rico."
“I know, but, Diego, I don’t want to wait long. September at the latest.”
Diego lines forward and kisses the tip of my nose. “If you want August, we can get married in August. We’re going to have to do all the wedding planning, though.”
“We?” I ask.
He picks up the chocolate box and turns toward the cemetery gates. I quickly brush my fingers along my parents’ gravestones before rushing over to meet up with him. My long legs easily match his strides.
“Yes, we,” he says as he heads straight for my car.
“You walked here?” I ask, surprised.
“I thought it was a beautiful night for a walk with a beautiful lady, but the beautiful lady wasn’t in the house when I came home, so…” He shrugs.
“We can walk back to my place,” I suggest. “Come back tomorrow for my car.”
“Our place,” he reminds me.
“Yes, yes.” I wave my hand.
“Pronouns are important.”
“Yes, well, we can do the end of August,” I say.
“For once, I don’t mind a change in subject.” He laughs, and I smile, so very happy. The sound of his laughter always makes me smile.
I can't help being a bit worried, though. I haven't been this happy for the longest time, and that usually means something's going to happen.
For now, I shove that thought aside. “August twenty-fifth is a Saturday. How does that sound?”
“That sounds—”
Our phones buzz, and we pull them out. I’m guessing he’s seeing what I’m seeing.
We need to head to the station.
There’s been a mysterious murder.
Mysterious highly suggests supernatural.
Great. Awesome, but then again, this is the story of my life.
Chapter Two
The murder scene is particularly gruesome. We’re in a remote wooded area, which helps to keep the public at bay. That, plus the late hour. It’s nearly midnight.
Marlon’s the one who called us in, and he’s already set up a bunch of lights to illuminate the entire scene. I almost wish he hadn’t. It takes a lot to sicken me. I’ve seen a lot, but this?
The victim is a guy. His face has been bloodied to the point of being unrecognizable, but what’s particularly gruesome is his stomach. His shirt has been lifted to reveal patches of skin, and what looks like bite marks.
As in someone literally bit him and took out chunks of flesh.
To eat?
Marlon Price, my angelic guardian angel—yes, that’s really what he is—strolls over. “A lovely scene, isn’t it?” he asks.
“Should angels make comments like that?” Diego asks.
“I’m only half-angel,” Marlon reminds him. “Clarissa.”
I nod to him, still staring at the body.
“Are you all right?” Marlon asks.
"Why wouldn't I be?" I force myself to get a closer look at the stomach. There are some perfect teeth impressions on the flesh. I know flesh isn't ideal for lifting prints, but it can sometimes be done. Wonder if it's possible to get a dental impression from the flesh. I'm guessing that's a no, but if anyone can, Henrietta Goldersnatch, the Medical Examiner and Lieutenant Reynolds’ niece, can.
“You seem… I don’t know.”
“Happy?” I ask grimly.
“Well, yes. Your aura is a bit all over the place.” He reaches down to touch my shoulder. “I am sorry about Blake.”
I wince. I only just found out about his death earlier today. Yesterday. Depends on if it’s midnight or not.
“Aura?” Angelo Colombo asks.
He’s my partner. The four of us make up SIU. Sometimes, my good friend Travis Hoffman and his partner Mercedes Adams in vice will help out with cases. There had been a time when I would’ve said that Travis was my best friend, but he has his wife, and I have Diego now.
“Yes,” Marlon says patiently. “Angels can see auras.”
“We can?” I blurt out.
“I can teach you how,” he tells me.
“You’re confused as to why I’m happy when one, Blake was killed, and two, we’re at a murder scene.”
“Yes,” Marlon admits.
Diego snatches my left hand and lifts it proudly.
"Congrats!" Angelo fist-pumps Diego. "I knew you would ask.
I just blink at Diego.
My fiancé just
laughs.
Ignoring them, I focus more on the body and pull on gloves. “Any ID on the vic?”
“Yes,” Marlon says. “Yoshi Kondo. Twenty-two. No priors.”
“Any idea why Yoshi was out here?” I ask, walking around the body. “Ah. He was dragged here.” I point to the clumps of grass and dirt on the heels of his mountain boots.
“We’ll need sunlight to see where he was dragged from,” Marlon says.
“There’s no way there’s enough blood here for him to have been killed here,” Diego adds.
“But was he just dropped off here?” Angelo asks. “Why drag him? Just drop him right where the killer wanted to. Strange.”
“The biting, do you think it happened here or elsewhere?” I ask. “Marlon, how did you come across the body?”
“The biting,” Diego muses, staring down at the body. “Those look like human teeth to me.”
I nod. “Definitely not a vamp. Not animal either. There would be more tearing.”
Marlon coughs slightly. “If you want me to answer your question, maybe stop talking?”
“Sorry.” I flash him a tiny grin. My stomach is doing all kinds of flips. My hand wants to go to my phone so I can call or text Blake, but he won’t answer. That ache in my chest is growing wider and wider.
“I was driving along the road back there.” Marlon jerks his thumb behind us. “A sense of evil like I never felt before came over me.”
I furrow my brow. “I didn’t sense anything.”
“Something else I need to teach you. I’m learning myself. Carol did such a good job keeping all sorts of supernatural creatures out of Bethlehem, but that’s dam’s long since broken. There’s no way it can ever go back to the way it was before she got sick, but we can try to sense threats immediately.”
Carol Hindenburg had been my demonic guardian angel. She helped to keep me hidden away from my demonic father, and in doing so, she protected Bethlehem. Halloween of last year, she became sick, and that’s when the vamps first showed up, and my life hasn’t been the same ever since.
“You don’t feel evil now, do you?” I ask.
“No. It went away.” Marlon shrugs.
“Was it the act of the murder that you sensed?” Angelo asks.
A Cursed All Hallows' Eve Page 131