“As you can see, the cause of death is clear enough.” Corwin shoved his hands in his pockets.
“I know this is happening nearby, but I don’t see how any of Vanse’s vamps could be a killer without him knowing.”
“And you trust Vanse?”
Tatya shot Corwin a look that told him what she thought of that suggestion. “It’d be nearly impossible for him to hide something this serious from me.”
“This one was a student from the reservation. We’ll need to coordinate with the tribal police.”
Tatya thought of Forked Lighting and Changing Sky. Relationships between indigenous tribes and incomers were never easy and took centuries to evolve and recover from the violence invasion brings. An incident like this and the reservation would close ranks.
“You want to finish that coffee before you do your thing?”
Tatya threw back the rest of the lukewarm liquid and put the cup down. Taking a deep breath, she raised her shields and began to scry. Although she used candles, incense, and sacred objects as focal points to establish a conducive atmosphere and calm clients, she could work just as well without. She breathed deeply, emptied her mind, and drew on her power. Ready to close down her shields at a second’s notice if needed, she stepped closer to the table. Damping down her emotions, Tatya scanned the body. The soul had long departed, and there was little trace of her aura, except the final shadows of a life cut short. In twenty-four hours even they would have disappeared. She found no signs of the usual etheric turmoil surrounding a violent death either. Like the one she’d unwittingly come across the other day, although sudden, the death had been peaceful. She estimated it had happened at least six to eight hours ago. Whoever was killing these women drained their blood, yet wasn’t savage about it, and didn’t want them to die in pain or agony. A bizarre combination.
“I can’t pick up any indications of violence or a struggle. Whoever did this glamoured her so when she died, she had no fear.”
“Are you sensing anything else?”
Tatya walked around the table. “It’s weird, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. No indications of any shock or trauma. It’s almost peaceful. Which means this vamp has some serious glamouring skills.”
“You think we got a killer with a conscience?”
They both regarded the body in silence.
“I don’t know if I’ve offered much assistance.”
“You’ve been a great help, Tat. You’ve found common ground past the obvious, in the way he pacifies his victims. Not something anyone else could pick up. We could do with someone who’s able to profile vampires. I’ll be popping downstairs to drop in on you know who next. Just in case he’s heard anything new from his contacts. I’ll get your payment started as soon as I get back to the station.”
“No worries, Bill.”
By the time Tatya returned home, it was too late to return to bed, and she was far too wound up anyway. She had a couple more lattes and got on with painting her living area, absorbing her mind in the up and down of the roller and a smooth finish. She planned to open in a week, and one corner of the kitchen was stacked high with boxes of herbs. Tomorrow, after the carpenter had up the shelves, she’d unpack her supplies. The not yet decorated consulting room had more boxes filled with dark green glass bottles washed and waiting to be filled. Her new bed, couch, and armchairs for the living space were due that afternoon, and Rob Svenson would be here to paint the shop name. Yes, Healing Herbs in dark green letters outlined in gold.
Getting the shop open was a tangible goal, and one she intended to achieve. Otherwise, between efforts to control her lust for Vanse and worrying about the dead women, she’d do something idiotic like ending up in Vanse’s lair. She was about to take a break when the melodious chimes of Tubular Bells emanated from her purse.
‘Tatya, I need to show you something. Are you home later?”
“Yes. Is it urgent, Bill? Do you want me to come in?”
“No need. I’ll drop by around four.”
She would have dropped whatever she was doing if Corwin asked, but relaxed knowing she didn’t have to reschedule the day’s deliveries.
Tatya had just made her new bed and flopped on the new couch to test how comfy it was when Corwin pulled up outside.
“Perfect timing,” she told him. “Come on through. I’ll make you your favorite drink.”
They both knew he drank Tatya’s sage tea to please her. “If you have to.”
Tatya laughed at the look on his face. “Are you under some kind of compulsion to protest? I’m well aware you secretly like it ”
“Are you going to be ready for your scheduled opening?” Corwin hoisted himself up on the stool, laying a manila envelope on the kitchen counter, as Tatya filled the kettle and prepared two mugs with dried sage leaves and honey.
“The opening will be on time no matter how many all-nighters I have to pull.” Tatya handed him a steaming mug and sipped her own as the aroma of sage spread through the room.
Corwin visibly relaxed as he breathed in the soothing vapors.
Tatya waited till they’d both finished drinking. No point in asking about the bad news till they’d finished their tea. “What’s in the envelope?”
Corwin pushed it toward her. “Open it and tell me your opinion.”
Tatya didn’t need any psychic abilities to know Bill brought her information because he thought she needed to be aware of something. Judging by how the lines on his forehead drew together, it was worse than what they’d dealt with that morning. She pulled out a sheaf of photos and spread them out on the counter.
There were five photos. Each photo showed a young woman, dead, lying on her back with her arm and ankles crossed, and had been taken in a wooded location. The last two pictures showed the women from Orleton.
Tatya gulped down her tea and swallowed repeatedly so as not to throw up it up again as her stomach heaved at what she was seeing. She raised her eyes to meet Corwin’s steady gaze.
“I know you thought it this morning, Tatya. Your face is easy to read, and I’d thought the same, but I wanted to check a few things out first.”
“When and where were these taken?”
“I had Branton contact the FBI and check for any recent murders with a similar MO. Here is what they sent me. The bodies of these young women were discovered during the preceding five months, one a month. Same MO as ours, and all within a five-hundred-mile radius. Each month the killer has moved closer to Orleton.”
They were both silent, studying the images. Each woman appeared to be around the same age, the mid-twenties, shoulder length curly red-brown hair, slim, and bore a distinct resemblance, some more, some less, to each other and to Tatya.
‘Our two were the sixth and seventh. I can’t help but wonder if someone is sending you a message, Tatya. I’m asking you to come and stay with me and Winona till this killer is found. To be on the safe side.”
“No. Thanks, Bill, but no. I won’t run. Whoever is doing this, he’s not going to chase me out of my home a second time. You can’t rule out coincidence.”
“Helluva coincidence if you ask me. These murders started within a month of last year’s Armageddon, not long after the departure of a certain murderous psychopathic demon.”
Angelus. Six months ago, Tatya had been both his quarry and the instrument of his defeat. She remembered his face contorting, black and yellow bleeding into the brilliant blue of his eyes. ‘This is not the end,’ he’d snarled in his final moments before she’d stabbed him in the heart with an ensorcelled knife. Looking back, the whole affair seemed to happen to someone else, and she’d worked tirelessly at burying the experience, however brief, of being enslaved to a demon. She put a hand to her throat and gasped, still able to sense the shadow of his touch, his mark on her. She tried to push away the memories, but thinking about him made her feel as if he was here on this plane again. If he was, she knew as sure as the day was light and the night dark, that he’d come looking for her. She thoug
ht of The Tower of Destruction, the card Eva had pulled for her, and The Abyss, from her own I Ching reading. Both had come up more than once. She shuddered as a wave of pure terror swept through her, and her heart beat at a hundred miles a minute, thudding loud enough to break out of her chest. Her link to Vanse sparked to life, the golden chain pulsing with worry.
“Tatya, what is wrong?”
His voice soothed her panic, and she calmed down. “I’m fine. Minor hiccup.” She sensed his hesitation. “Really, it’s okay,” she told him cutting the link. He’d know soon enough. She thought she’d gotten over the whole Angelus affair, but seeing those photos unnerved her more than she’d expected, and brought up emotions she would rather avoid. They’d sent him back to Hell, it was over with, and what they had here was a serial killing vamp. That was all. The rest was coincidental.
“You okay? You’re looking pale.”
The normality of Corwin’s voice reassured her. “Yeah, I had a moment, but I’m fine.”
“I’ll notify the patrol car to keep an eye out as it sweeps passed your place.”
“It’s unnecessary, Bill. Honestly. I’m well able to take care of myself.”
“But it eases my mind, and you know Winona worries.”
“Look, at the slightest indication of anything out of the ordinary and I promise I’ll be on the phone.”
“Well, I don’t want to be late for my appointment with his lordship. This afternoon we received forensic confirmation that a vampire is definitely involved, and we’re obliged by law to inform the local master and request cooperation.”
“Will you be showing him those photos?”
“What do you think?”
Tatya groaned. “Not again.” An irksome occurrence last autumn had been the squad of vampire bodyguards sent by Vanse for her protection. They’d accompanied her day and night, everywhere she went, though there’d been one occasion when their presence had been ineffective. He’d doubtless be keen to set up the same safeguard again. There was no way Bill wouldn’t do his job and notify him. She sighed. If it contributed to catching whichever rogue vamp had gone on this rampage, then she’d try to put up with being shadowed by goons without complaining too much.
Corwin gathered up the photographs, sliding them into the envelope. “Someone’s sending us a message in how the bodies are positioned, and I’m hoping your boyfriend will have an insight or two on the matter.”
Tatya saw Bill out, adding to and reinforcing her wards after locking up. She felt safe inside her home, but as she got ready for bed, her thoughts circled back to the dead girls. Who was killing these girls, and why? And what message was he sending?
Chapter Nine: Friends and Allies
Ominous dark trees loomed above, thorn-covered branches attacked, scratching her arms, and drawing blood as she ran. Someone was chasing her and having caught her scent was gaining. Sweat poured off her, her heart thundered in her chest, and the muscles in her legs were burning. She tried to increase her pace, but she was weakening. She was filled with terror as she searched for an escape. The footsteps came closer and closer. Abruptly the forest ended, and she careened to a stop at a cliff edge. She turned toward the forest.
He approached at his leisure, not even out of breath, shoulder length red-gold curls framing his face, brilliant blue eyes appraising his cornered quarry with immense satisfaction. He reached out a hand toward her.
She froze, terrified, unable to move, but as his fingers came within a hair’s breath of her skin, she screamed.
She woke, and the connection to Vanse blazed bright, burning away the nightmare. Someone was banging on the front door. She stumbled out of bed, switching on the light and blinking in the sudden glare as she pulled on her robe. If it was Vanse, how on earth had he got here this quick? She fumbled with the keys and yanked the door open. “What are you doing here? She peered past him at the darkened street. “Are you sleeping in that... that vampmobile?”
“Yes, I will come in. Thank you for asking.”
Having already invited him in on a previous occasion, Tatya could only stare and inhale the trail of musky sandalwood as he marched past her into the kitchen.
“I can go without sleep for several days. But to answer your question, after Sheriff Corwin’s late evening visit, I took a turn at guarding you myself.” His eyes glinted dangerously, daring her to question his action.
“How thoughtful of you.”
He switched the coffee machine on as if this was something he did every day. “Where do you keep the coffee?”
“In the red container. The one that says ‘Coffee’.”
“Glad you still have a sense of humor. Tell me about your dream.”
Tatya settled herself on the stool as he spooned a generous amount of beans into the machine. “Hey, go easy. That’s the last of my best Bolivian Special. I’ll have sage tea. That’s in the container marked ‘Sage Tea’.”
“If you insist.”
He filled the kettle while Tatya gazed at the new kitchen clock. She still liked the little ducks marching around the edge, even if it was three am. Way too early to be awake. She thought of her new fabulously comfy bed.
Vanse smiled and sent a shiver of pleasure through the link.
“Stop that.”
“Just testing.”
“Just teasing, you mean”.
The kettle clicked, and he poured the steaming water into her cup. The soothing scent of sage filled the air.
“A most unappealing smell.” His nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Pass me the honey.”
Vanse obliged, and a few minutes later as the coffee maker’s gurgling ceased, he poured himself a mug.
“How can you drink it that strong? You can stand a spoon up in it.”
Vanse eyed her and sipped appreciatively. “It’s an acquired taste.”
“Acquired how long ago?”
“We’ve more serious matters than my past to discuss, Tatya. Your dream?”
Yep, that was one way to squelch a promising conversation. “It felt as if Angelus was really there in the dream. But that’s not possible, is it?” she asked.
“My connection to him was different to yours and mine.” His gaze turned soft. “I feel you here,” he patted his chest, “and here.” He touched his head.
She wanted to laugh. How could he feel her in his heart when he had no heartbeat? But she understood. The connection ran both ways. As her maker, he could read her thoughts and emotions about everything, whereas she was only aware only of his emotions and thoughts when they were about her; the rest of his mental processes were a blank to her. The term ‘maker’ irritated her as she considered herself half human, with the rest divided between vampire and demon. Not that she knew exactly how that particular division worked.
“Angelus can’t touch either of us from where he is. But I suppose it’s possible some fool summoned a demon, and he’s been able to supplant the demon, and then take possession of a host. Though no vampire would do such a thing. As far as the two girls go, the sheriff ‘s verification proves the bites are from a vampire, not a, how do you call them, a wannabe.” He checked his watch. “I regret I must go as I have a Skype conference scheduled in fifteen minutes with my peers to receive the results of their inquiries in this matter. I will leave guards, but I assure you they will be discreet.”
Unbidden, the image of his lips on hers the other night, sprang to mind. She looked away, trying to hide the blush spreading up her cheeks. Wow, her timing sucked.
Suddenly he was standing close. Too close. “Shall I return later?” His fingers traced the line of her jaw, moving up and following the curve of her lips.
A ripple of desire surged, and her skin quivered in pleasure at his touch.
“Let’s enjoy the anticipation,” he whispered, bending close and kissing her cheek.
After he left, Tatya went back to bed unable to decide whether to be mad at him for postponing the inevitable, yet again or to take his advice.
&n
bsp; The joiners arrived at eight thirty sharp. By lunchtime, the new shop counter, cupboards, and shelving were in place. By three in the afternoon, the installers had finished their work, downed tools, and departed, leaving her with plenty of shelving and storage, and a mountain of washing up after gratifying their need for an endless supply of coffee.
Life is always full on or nothing, she reflected as she surveyed the new additions with satisfaction. She left the kitchen tidy-up till later, wanting to get as many of the shelves painted as possible. If she finished that job today, tomorrow she could stock them. She did a dance around the kitchen, waving her arms, humming a tuneless melody and grinning to herself like a madwoman. If anyone saw her, they’d think she was an idiot. A cough from the shop alerted her to the unwelcome fact that someone was watching. She spun around.
Forked Lightning leaned against the door jamb, and the second she turned his guard went up.
But he wasn’t quick enough, and she caught the twinkle in his brown eyes as he straightened up and wiped the amusement off his face. Shame, she thought, he was a handsome man who must have no trouble attracting women, and without the armor of his habitual surly suspiciousness, she’d add a certain charisma to his qualities. Well, Changing Sky wanted them to work together, and there was no harm in being friendly. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. It’s just because for once things are coming together.” She gave him her best ‘I’m charming and I’ll be your best friend’ smile. “What can I do for you?”
Forked Lightning pointed to the box on the counter. “A delivery from Changing Sky. I’m delivering sage bracelets, dream catchers and some beadwork he’d like you to sell.”
The Kala Trilogy: An Urban Fantasy Box Set Page 28