Gods Ascendent

by T. G. Ayer

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement as Monroe waved at a tech to close the drapes. Within a few seconds, the drapes drew shut and the room was filled with bright light from an expensive chandelier that probably cost as much as it had to decorate the whole suite itself

  Vee knew that she’d made an impression when she’d entered. And not a good one. The men shared a glance that spoke volumes, their lips turning up in a pair of matching smirks. “Something amusing you, detectives?” Vee asked. She was beginning to lose her patience with their insolent stares.

  Neither of the men were interested in her words. They were both staring at the front of her shirt where her boobs were currently stretching the buttons because of her hands-on-the-hips stance. She usually had her jacket buttoned, but with the stifling heat within the apartment, she’d instinctively and unconsciously released the buttons it at some point.

  Vee wasn’t prudish by any means, but the outright rudeness and disrespect of these two men had her head burning up. Time to flip the two assholes.

  “She’s here because she got a call. And I don’t mean just-a-call.” Monroe thrust a thumb in Vee’s direction. “When she gets a call, you know it’s from high up in the food-chain. Sorry guys. I would have loved to fight you on this—and win—but if I know one thing, that package of tits and ass already has a warrant to take over this case. You two may as well skulk back to your precinct and cry on your captain’s shoulder.”

  Vee tried hard not to smile as she shared a glance with Monroe. “Ass too?”

  Monroe nodded, then jerked her chin at Pretty Boy.

  Vee lifted her eyebrows, pursing her lips in disgust as she looked back at them. “Are you two still here?”

  Man Chest took a step forward, sticking his face close to Vee’s. She merely smiled and said, “You do know that’s not a threat, right?”

  His eyebrows scrunched.

  “You. Shoving your face in mine. Showing me how strong you are. Threatening me with your height and your physique and your manliness.” Vee moved her hand, cupping her fingers in position. “Show me more of your power, detective. Because I’ll be happy to show you mine.”

  Just as Vee glanced pointedly at her hand, Monroe let out a decidedly unladylike bark of laughter. “Gianni, she’s got you by the cojones. Literally.”

  Chapter 11

  Monroe curtailed her laughter, likely taking the dead woman into consideration, and Vee wasn’t amused to find Man Chest’s—or Gianni’s—partner grinning widely.

  Meanwhile, Gianni stepped away from Vee’s cupped hand and readjusted his pants. As if that would change anything.

  Vee moved around the men and ignored them as she turned to study the bed. Likely the biggest bed she’d ever seen, it was covered in a silk duvet that had once been a delicate cream color. Matching silk sheets and pillowcases bore a randomly patterned combination of dull red and cream.

  A setting more for romance than murder.

  Vee shifted to the bedside, studying the victim’s body, which was a strangely gray, almost ashen color—a sure sign of an extreme lack of blood. The victim lay with her torso hanging over the edge of the bed. Vee crouched down beside the victim and inspected the woman’s throat. It had been clawed open in one swift move, after which it appeared the woman’s blood had been extracted. Vee didn’t need to access her aural reading skills to know that.

  “Victim’s name?” Vee asked without looking over her shoulder.

  “Victim checked in under the name Susie Ling. New York driver’s license. Looks like she was a gossip columnist for a local rag. We’re following up on the address on the license.”

  Behind Monroe, Pretty Boy was saying, “So what does the FBI want with a New York serial killer case? He hasn’t crossed state lines anyway.”

  Vee shifted and looked over her shoulder at him, to find him staring—very pointedly—at her ass. She rose to her feet and turned to face him. “I didn’t get your name?”

  “Detective Hasif.” He extended a hand, revealing very well-manicured fingernails.

  Vee gave his fingers a dirty look and met his eyes. “Okay, Detective Hasif. Firstly, how is it that you are so sure this case doesn’t cross state lines? And secondly, what makes you think that the FBI only deals with crimes that cross state lines.”

  Hasif lifted one finger, his eyes flicking to Vee’s cleavage for a few moments before he spoke. “Because we’ve been tracking this case for the last four months and nothing indicates that the killer strays too far from this particular area.”

  “And you came to that conclusion how?” Vee asked.

  “Sorry, Agent Shankar. That’s privileged information.” He smirked.

  The man was getting on Vee’s nerves. For all his beauty, he was just as much a misogynist as his distasteful partner. Vee paused. That was a bit of a prejudiced thought. The man was an asshole, but having a beautiful face never once guaranteed the owner a beautiful personality or heart.

  Vee let out a long breath. “My warrant says it’s not.”

  “I haven’t seen a warrant, Shankar.” Gianni had finally decided to jump into the battle, although Vee noticed that the man remained on the other side of his partner, as far away from her as possible.

  “If you check your emails you will,” she said with a sweet smile. Or what she hoped was a sweet smile. Inside herself, the smile she gave them was nothing short of demonic.

  There was a long pause before Monroe took a step closer. “Gentlemen. This is a closed crime scene. I’m leaving too, so I’ll be happy to escort you out.”

  The two men stared at each other, weighing their options. Gianni snorted and snagged his cell phone from his pocket. A few swipes later, he looked up and gave Vee a filthy glare, his lip curling in a snarl. “She’s telling the truth. I got a copy of the warrant forty minutes ago.”

  Vee didn’t say a word. She wasn’t above crowing—particularly with these two louts—but she wanted the men out of the room as soon as possible. The heat would not only damage the integrity of the biological samples, not to mention it would also be affecting the strength and clarity of the auras she intended to read.

  The two detectives spent a minute hesitating until Vee sighed and turned away from them. As she stared at the victim, Vee said, “Do you need help finding the exit, boys? Monroe offered, but I need her advice on something, so we’ll get someone else to help.”

  Hasif sputtered. “She’s staying?” Looking over at him, Vee lifted an eyebrow and gave a sharp nod. She hadn’t looked at Monroe once, and now hoped the detective would play along. “This is our jurisdiction. You can’t toss us out of here and then allow Monroe to stay.” His voice held an almost whiny quality that set her nerves on edge.

  Vee forced herself to concentrate, then walked around the bed to inspect the feet of the woman who was currently splayed across the mattress, her guts ripped open. The fact that they were having a power struggle while this poor woman’s body cooled was distasteful.

  She glanced up at the two men. “I’ve worked with Monroe on Special Victims cases before. And if she looks at my tits and ass, she doesn’t make it as obvious as the two of you. Even if I had the power to keep you two on, I wouldn’t because you have disrespected me from the moment I walked into the room.”

  Vee paused to draw her camera from her pocket and take two photos, one of the woman’s neck which revealed strange bruises, and the other of the wound in her neck that confirmed Vee’s suspicion of the killer’s species.

  She still hadn’t heard them leave. “Oh, and this is a closed investigation. I’ve already subpoenaed all your files on the case going back however long you’ve had this killer on your radar.”

  Both men’s mouths opened, and Gianni’s jaw clenched as he launched himself at her. “Not a step closer, Gianni.” Monroe jerked her head at the door to the room. “If you know what’s best for you, you’ll leave now. You don’t want to take her on. She’s got balls the size of Texas.”

  “That much is clear.�
�� Gianna spat the words and Vee glanced up at him. “Crime scene fellas. Please endeavor to keep your biological substances—sputum included—to yourselves. I’d ask for a mask for you but since you’re leaving...”

  Monroe ushered the two men outside, but Vee was no longer paying attention. The whole discussion and argument with them had been tiring. She encountered men like them all the time, the ones who believed women were mere possessions, who thought women to be beneath them, who refused to accept a female in charge of them.

  Good thing they were gone then.

  The outer door slammed closed, and seconds later Monroe returned, coming to Vee’s side. “Why’d you keep me on?” When Vee said nothing, Monroe huffed. “Even if it was just to stick it to those two dick-heads, I’m happy.”

  Vee shook her head. “It wasn’t.” Then she paused and grinned. “Well, it was, kinda. But I do need you.”

  Vee looked around at the crime scene techs. Monroe answered before Vee could ask the question. “They’re ours.”

  “Good. Then they’ll know where to send the evidence samples.”

  Monroe nodded, well used to Vee’s requests that half the evidence be sent on to Vee’s own lab at Shankar Industries so she could work on them herself—that was, of course, only when she hadn’t been able to obtain her own.

  Vee gave a short nod and turned away to study the body. “I’m going to need some space and privacy.”

  One of the forensics techs—most likely new—gasped. “We can’t leave the crime scene unattended. Not until everything is bagged and tagged.”

  Vee turned and waved them off. “Don’t worry. I just need space for a few minutes. You’ll have me in your sights the entire time.”

  Though still hesitant and sending her suspicious looks, the forensics techs got to their feet and walked over to the door. One stopped on the threshold. “This far enough?”

  Vee smiled. “Plenty. And I promise I won’t take too much of your time.” For a moment, Vee felt like an animal in a circus, about to do some amazing trick to impress the audience.

  Monroe stood a few feet back having settled into the pattern she and Vee had used over the last few months. Monroe now took up position about ten yards away, giving Vee enough space to work, to study the body and everything else that had happened. This was the part Vee dreaded.

  The part where she watched a murder happen in real time.

  The auras of the two cops, both a combination of dark green and brown, made a straight path to the position in which Vee had found them when she’d arrived. Neither of the men had been here before Monroe, so she’d been the one to secure the scene. Monroe’s aura showed her entering and studying the body from a million angles.

  As Vee stared at the aural patterns, she focused on those of the woman and one other person who, to Vee, appeared to be the intruder. The green-and-black aural image described a person of at least six-foot-five and of a large physique. Darker, almost red-black streaks within the image made her stomach tighten.

  Karan had been right. This was a demon attack. But even knowing what the perpetrator was, didn’t ease Vee’s concern. It was what had really happened to the victim that Vee had to watch. And knowing already that it was going to be bad made her want to turn and run off.

  Big bad FBI agent huh?

  Chapter 12

  Reading crime scenes had never been easy.

  In fact, it had always been tough, not that Vee had been doing this gig for so long. But watching a person’s death—however fractal the aural patterns could make the scene—had always made the experience painful. Over time, she’d learned to keep her emotions in check, to control her expression and be professional.

  The problem was, Vee was the type of person who disliked horror movies—she’d have to watch most of it with half-closed lids and shut her eyes whenever she thought something awful was about to happen.

  And she was also the person who would bawl her eyes out when watching a sad scene on TV.

  Her emotional reactions were at total odds with her job, and she knew it all too well.

  So, standing by and watching a person get ripped apart—even when the images were a lot like watching people on an infrared camera affected by bad static—was always painful and frustrating. It made Vee feel helpless, made her feel as though she needed to go find the killer right then and administer the same treatment to him.

  Now she took a deep breath and forced herself to concentrate, to put her emotions aside and focus.

  Vee stared at the body, her vision blurring for the briefest second. Soon the room shifted in color and was filled with patterns of auras all meshed into each other. Fresh aural imprints were intertwined with those from earlier in the day, and Vee had to spend a few moments sifting through them.

  One at a time, she studied an imprint then removed it from her vision. If she had to describe it in a physical way, it would be as if she’d lightened or erased a single person’s aura the way you’d adjust images in photo-manipulation software.

  The only problem was that Vee had to work backward, sifting through the intertwined strands, studying them and then lifting them away from her vision. She could still see them all, but somehow her brain had decided that she could switch that particular aura off until she was done studying the scene.

  She sifted through and ticked off the forensic people, then the policemen, Monroe and then Gianni and Hasif. Her vision was now less filled with auras, and she was able to concentrate better. She chose then to look at earlier in the day and remove those who were not suspects.

  The cleaning crew of three had come in mid-morning, and from what Vee saw the company needed a good raise. The three women were very thorough.

  At check-in time, the victim arrived alone, and had been brought up to the suite. Her aura was cool, revealing her confidence and unworried mood. She was levelheaded, not the kind of person prone to bursting out into song or profanity. She toured the rooms, guided by the porter.

  Not much later, she ordered a meal using the bedroom phone then changed into what Vee assumed were more comfortable clothing. The aura suggested soft, loose-fitting pants and an oversized tee. Then she headed to the lounge and curled up to watch TV until her food arrived. While she ate, the demon appeared. He’d materialized near the windows and had hidden behind the long drapes, his position beyond Susie’s field of vision.

  Vee frowned, unsure now of how the man had gained access as her vision confirmed that the door to the hotel suite had remained locked. A sinking feeling filled her stomach, and Vee swallowed hard against it. The magical entrance meant only one thing. Karan had been right about the nature of the killer.

  He’d watched and waited until Susie finished her meal and headed for the bathroom where she drew a bath and undressed, removing something—perhaps a necklace—from around her neck, dropping it onto the countertop.

  The gold aura glinted again as the chain shifted; the victim had placed it too close to the edge of the counter. The chain moved again, unspooling as it was pulled over the edge and dropped inside something that sat beside the sink. Vee made a note to check that with Monroe.

  She focused on the demon now, whose aura shifted, edged with blues and whites which implied he’d pulled a glamor over his form, perhaps to make himself invisible.

  The intruder took a glance at those corners, then slipped inside the bathroom to stand beside the door as the victim readied herself for a night in. From the strength and size of the aura, Vee had to guess that it could belong to either a gigantic wrestler with a fever, or one of a powerful demon species.

  Vee waited as she watched the aura of the killer. He’d entered the bathroom, the gigantic space larger than some homes, with separate cubicles for two toilets and a double sink and counter almost two yards long. Much of the bathroom was carpeted, and from the bloodstains on white pile near the tub, Vee suspected his attack was imminent. The bedroom had begun to darken, providing plenty of shadows and dark corners within which to lurk.

 
Susie’s aura shifted between colors which Vee guessed was her mood relaxing from the soak in the tub. To interpret the finer details of a person’s aura, Vee would have to spend a large amount of time with that person, to study their possible moods and make guesses as to the colors and how they related to the person’s mood and emotions. For now, she could only assume, but she was making educated guesses nonetheless.

  When Susie was done, she rose from the water and wrapped herself within a towel. She stepped from the bath and began to dry her body before pulling on a bathrobe. She faced the mirror, and was brushing out her wet hair when the demon’s aura shivered and changed, her aura darkened as she caught sight of his reflection in the mirror before her.

  The demon attacked, encircling her neck with his arm. She struggled, flailing and grabbing aimlessly at him but she had no power against him whatsoever.

  A flare of darker astral lines caught Vee’s attention as Susie grabbed onto the faucet—the only thing she could hold onto. The demon had pulled hard, and Susie’s desperate grip broke, ripping open a fingernail as well. The bleeding at the wound, though minor, had caused the glowing. Evidence that the forensics people had missed. Though it was likely that they hadn’t gotten to the bathroom yet to look for evidence.

  The demon dragged her back a few feet from the stain on the carpet—which Vee could see beyond her vision of the shifting auras.

  Susie’s struggles continued, and she managed to grab hold of the demon’s ear, pulling hard. Vee made a note to have forensics check beneath Susie’s fingernails for DNA—demon DNA of course, but Vee still needed to confirm.

  The demon’s aura changed suddenly, his imprint darkening with rage or pain or both. Much of Vee’s observations were left up to interpretation, and she supposed that the demon’s fluctuation in aural color could also have meant arousal or fear, but in the context of what she was witnessing, her gut told her it wasn’t.