Nightraven

by Skye Knizley

  Raven looked at him. “How long have you been waiting to say that?”

  Levac checked his watch. “One year, eight months, nine days and seventeen hours.”

  “I’d say he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, Ray. He’s about the same size as Myung Choi, same black hair. If you’re right and our killer only saw him from the back it would make sense,” Aspen said.

  “Except the part where he’s wandering around in his underwear,” Raven said.

  She straightened and went back to the bedroom. It hadn’t occurred to her that anyone other than Choi might have been in it. She leaned over the pillows and closed her eyes. Yes, the scent was there, faint after several days, but still present. Mystery solved.

  She returned to the crime scene to find Aspen taking a liver temp.

  “You were right, Raven. Based on his temperature, I can’t give a time of death. At least three days is all I have.”

  “And he had sex the day he died, probably with Choi. Make a note and ask Ming to check for DNA, maybe we can get an actual name on Choi,” Raven said.

  Levac looked up from the desk he was searching. “I might have already sorted that out. I found a passport in the drawer for a Lino Tong, along with a genuine driver’s license and enough credit cards to buy a small island.”

  “I’ll run it through the database when I get back to the office,” Aspen said.

  Raven leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “I think it is time to get the rest of the crew out here while I go home and get cleaned up. Someone is bound to notice I’m covered in blood and whatever that stuff was, even in Chicago.”

  Aspen finished packaging fibers from McKenzie’s chest. “Good idea, love. See you at home?”

  “Yep. Rupe, can you catch a ride with Aspen?”

  Levac kept searching. “You mean ride with someone who knows what a speed limit is? I’d love to!”

  Raven tried not to laugh. Instead, she stepped out the door. “Smartass. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  343 Wolf Point, Chicago, IL

  Raven managed to reach her apartment with encountering only one person, who asked where the Zombie Walk was and went about his business as if that was the most amusing thing he’d ever heard. Raven was quietly proud she hadn’t punch him in the face. Being an asshole wasn’t a crime.

  The apartment was colder than usual, but she and Aspen usually left the heat off during the night, they both preferred to sleep under a duvet. In the summer they cranked up the air-conditioning and in the winter they turned the heat off just so they could get a few hours’ sleep.

  She turned the water on in the shower then turned to look at the damage. She really did look like a dead cast member from a Zombie-oriented TV show. Blood was dried on her face, in her hair and all down her arms. Her sweater and pants were so thick with it that blood and offal flaked off when she moved, littering the floor and counter with bits of dried blood.

  Raven undressed over an old towel then carried the clothes and towel to the garbage. She would dump the whole thing in the incinerator later. She would miss the pants, but they were unsalvageable and blood was not a good look, even for a dhampyr.

  She returned to the bathroom and found a shadow standing in the middle of the room. The shock was enough to startle her and she let out an involuntary cry of surprise. The shadow turned and she saw it was the same clown-looking man from Riscassi’s place. He held a knife in one gnarled hand and blood was dripping from the blade.

  “I told you, God’s work wasn’t finished! This is not your business!” he snarled.

  Raven backed away, wishing she hadn’t left her pistol on the bathroom counter. “You’re killing innocent people, that makes it my business. What are you doing here?”

  “Innocent? Hardly. They are killers, all of them! They’ve ruined lives in exchange for silver and gotten away with it. They must be dealt with!” he said.

  “You aren’t judge, jury and executioner,” Raven said.

  The clown stopped and smiled. It wasn’t the smile of a clown, it was the smile of a killer a few cards short of a full deck. “And you are? Oh, I know you, Ravenel Tempeste. Oh yes. You have more blood on your hands even than I.”

  Raven stopped when she reached the dresser. Her sword, given to her by Thad a few years before, was on a stand atop the dresser, between Aspen’s jewelry box and a photo taken when she was eight.

  “So, you’re here for me?”

  The clown raised his blade. “I am here to stop you, not punish you, your soul is already taken.”

  Raven glanced at her sword. “My soul is already taken? What the hell does that mean?”

  “It is her will. You have no soul to save!”

  The clown slashed at her and Raven stepped aside. She drew her sword from its place in the dresser and spun into a guard position. “Look, Clownie McClownerson, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but your kitchen knife versus my sword isn’t exactly a fair fight. Why don’t you put down the blade and I’ll find you some nice bracelets and a padded room, what do you say?”

  The clown threw the knife over hand, caught it backwards and slashed at Raven’s midsection. She turned her sword to block the attack and the blade passed right through her sword and opened a long gash in her stomach. She cried out in pain and danced away, blood trickling over her abdomen.

  “Okay, didn’t see that coming.”

  The clown slashed again and Raven again tried to block. The knife sliced through the skin of her arm so deeply she thought it hit bone. She pulled away and rolled over the bed to put some distance between her and the creature. How could she fight something she couldn’t touch?

  “I can follow you anywhere, kill you whenever I like, Ravenel,” the clown said.

  “Then why here? Why my home? Why not the mirror in my car where you could just gut me?” Raven asked.

  The clown snarled and slashed with the knife. Raven dodged and lashed out with a foot, but there was nothing to hit. It was like the clown was made of smoke. She recovered and dodge away again as the clown slashed twice more.

  “Guess we’re done talking. You won’t mind if I ask where you learned to fight with a knife, will you? I mean, it isn’t exactly a clown skill. How did you get from balloon animals to attacking a cop with a carving knife?”

  She ducked beneath an overhand swing and picked a bottle of holy water off the vanity. Aspen kept it handy for some of her healing spells, and Raven had given up arguing. It gave her sunburn, but tended to help other people, whether they believed in it or not. She popped the stopper with her thumb and threw the contents on the clown. He screamed in pain and smoking patches of skin appeared through his makeup. When he slashed again, Raven tried for his wrist. This time, she felt the cloth of his shirt and the soft, wrinkled flesh beneath. She squeezed and the knife fell from his fingers, where it stuck in the carpet.

  “So you are human. Or humanish. Is that a word?”

  The clown slapped her with an open hand, bloodying her lip, then pulled away. His shirt tore in Raven’s grip and he ran into the bathroom where he vanished back into the mirror.

  “Good talk,” Raven muttered.

  The wound across her stomach was already healing, but the one in her arm hurt like the dickens. She returned to the kitchen, made another of her Bloody Mary concoctions, grabbed a tube of potato crisps and turned her shower into a bath.

  She was still soaking when she heard the front door open. Her pistol was still on the counter and she stretched out to grab it and hold it just on top of the tub’s edge. It was aimed at the door when Aspen entered a few seconds later.

  “Hey babe, I… came home to have a pistol aimed at me. So, I guess whatever happened to the bedroom wasn’t you trying to find your Christmas present?”

  Raven decocked her pistol and set it on the floor. “No. Cl
ownie McClownerson came through the mirror and attacked me with a kitchen knife.”

  Aspen jerked a thumb at the bedroom. “The one sticking out of the floor in there?”

  “That would be the one. I’ll bag it later, the bastard took a chunk out of my arm the size of Nebraska,” Raven said.

  “Where’s his body?” Aspen asked.

  Raven made a face. “He went back into the mirror after I splashed holy water on him. You’re out, by the way.”

  Aspen sat on the toilet. “Did you miss?”

  Raven stirred what was left of her drink with a celery stick. “What is it with you and Rupert? No, I didn’t miss. Bullets go right through him, as did my sword even with all the little runes and everything. It’s like he wasn’t really there unless he was attacking me.”

  “That’s a new one. Is he a ghost like the thing on the ship?”

  Raven drained her glass and took a bite of celery. “Not really. He’s alive, I felt his flesh and bones beneath my hand after I hit him with the holy water. It’s more like he’s not really here, if that makes any sense.”

  “I’ll take a look at the database in the morning, maybe Section has dealt with something similar before,” Aspen said. She looked at Raven’s glass and arched an eyebrow. “Are you getting more comfortable with feeding?”

  Raven finished her celery and wished she had more, it was surprisingly tasty. “I didn’t feed, I had some blood. Feeding is when you go all fang face and bite someone.”

  Aspen tapped the glass. “You’re avoiding the question, honey. That’s the second one of these, is it getting easier?”

  Raven shook her head. “Not really. Most of the time it still tastes like, well, blood. The vodka and tabasco helps it go down, though. Why?”

  Aspen shrugged. “Just worry about you, love. You’ve been using your powers a lot more than you used to and you need blood or your body feeds on itself. I’m glad you’ve found something that makes it easier. Maybe we can find a base that isn’t forty percent alcohol.”

  “Probably a good idea, I don’t like the booze, much. But hot sauce and ketchup are growing on me,” Raven said. She looked at Aspen and smiled. “I’m not complaining, but why are you home so early?”

  Aspen pulled out her phone. “Because the holding facility got back to me and your call with Bloodstone is−” The phone started chiming. “−now.”

  Raven swore and pulled a towel off the rack to cover her breasts. “Fine, give me the phone.”

  She took it and slid her finger over the button. The screen changed to show the aged visage of Abraham King. He frowned at the screen and one eyebrow went up.

  “We’re a little informal today, are we, Storm?”

  Raven shrugged. “It’s been a bad day, hence the blood everywhere. Is Bloodstone ready to chat?”

  “He is. Make it quick, Storm. Every minute he’s out, he is a danger,” King said.

  The screen changed to show Trent Bloodstone seated at a metal conference table with his hands cuffed in front of him with silver-etched cuffs. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit and smiling too much for Raven’s liking.

  “Agent Storm, I’m glad to hear from you. You’re looking good, the blood-covered look suits you,” he said.

  Raven rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a social call, Bloodstone, and I don’t care what you think of how I look. Tell me about the mirror you sold to the Riscassi family.”

  Bloodstone’s face was blank. “I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about, Agent Storm.”

  “Yes, you do. Thieves like you never forget the things they steal, or the things they sell. It’s a standing mirror with a skull and bone motif, it was in the possession of Antonio Riscassi, a sleaze of epic proportions. Tell me about the mirror,” Raven said.

  Bloodstone shook his head. “Sorry, you’re just not ringing any bells.”

  Raven sighed. “What do you want, Bloodstone? You’re going away for a very long time.”

  Bloodstone looked at Raven. “I want to see my mate, Sephina. I want conjugal.”

  “Absolutely not,” King snapped.

  “What else?” Raven asked.

  Bloodstone sighed. “Alright, what about two years off my sentence and some decent food?”

  “Food I can arrange,” Raven said. “Years depend on what you’ve got to say.”

  “Agreed. What do you want to know?” Bloodstone asked.

  “I want to know why a man dressed like a clown stepped out of it,” Raven said.

  Bloodstone’s face creased into a frown and her rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I’m sorry, stepped out of the mirror I sold Riscassi? That isn’t possible unless…” He raised his head. “Storm, it isn’t Riscassi’s mirror, that one is simply a conduit. It is nothing but an ornate antique I bilked Riscassi into paying too much for, that’s all.”

  Raven sat up in the tub. The warm sudsy water wasn’t feeling so comfy anymore. “Then tell me what I’m looking for, how is he doing this?”

  “Look, I didn’t do it, I don’t deal in magikal artifacts, but I heard a rumor a few years back that might help,” Bloodstone said.

  “Spill it, Bloodstone!”

  “There are many magik mirrors rumored to exist, such as Bloody Mary’s, Maleficent’s and so on. There is also Muldoon’s Mirror, perhaps you have heard of it?”

  Raven glanced at Aspen, who shook her head.

  “Assume I haven’t had a classic education and get to the damn point,” Raven said.

  “Apologies, Ms. Storm, I forgot you are a woman of action not education. Muldoon’s Mirror was rumored to allow passage of the spirit from one plane of existence to another. He discovered it when his father’s soul became trapped beneath the glass upon his death,” Bloodstone said.

  Raven shook her head. “There has to be more, Bloodstone. You said, ‘That isn’t possible unless’ before. What are you leaving out?”

  Bloodstone leaned back. “Very astute, Ms. Storm. As I said, I was not the one who sold the mirror, it was a colleague. He found the mirror in an old warehouse. He didn’t know what it was, of course. He cleaned it up and kept it in his shop for some time before it was purchased by a young woman. She intended it to be sold in her shop.”

  Aspen leaned over Raven’s shoulder. “When was this?”

  Bloodstone scratched his chin as he thought. “Ten years ago, give or take.”

  “Around the same time that the first of the new murders took place,” Raven said. “You still haven’t given me the bad news, Trent.”

  “Of course. The bad news, or worse news, is that this person you saw is now able to pass through whatever mirror he wishes, for the simple reason that he was alive when the mirror took him,” Bloodstone said.

  “What does that mean?” Aspen asked.

  “It means we have to find the original mirror or he can just keep going. What happened to the woman who bought the mirror?” Raven asked.

  Bloodstone shrugged. “I gather she died in a rather gruesome way.”

  “The first kill,” Aspen said. “What happened to the mirror after that?”

  “I can hardly do your investigation for you, Ms. Storm, and in this case I’ve no idea. I suggest you look into what happened to her belongings after her death,” Bloodstone said.

  Raven sighed. She’d hoped for more, but it was better than nothing. “Thank you, Trent. Your beef is on its way.”

  The view changed again and focused on King as Bloodstone was led away by his guards. “Good job, Storm. Any word on Frost and his cronies?”

  “Not since he tried to kill me yesterday. Silver was going to follow up on the vehicle he left behind and any connection to the coven trying to kill my mother,” Raven said.

  King shook his head. “I don’t believe there is one, not unless Frost’s employer is otherwise being manipulated. Frost considers magik-users to
be just as evil as preternaturals, he doesn’t knowingly work with them.”

  “What about unknowingly? We can be pretty subtle when we want to be,” Aspen said.

  “I’ve yet to see you do anything subtle, Ms. Kincaid. I will look into it. King out.”

  The call ended and Raven shifted in the tub, the water was getting cold and starting to make her toes wrinkle. “We need to get the first victim’s name and find out where that mirror went.”

  Aspen nodded and pulled her sweater over her head, revealing her blue satin bra and the necklace Raven had given her. “We do.”

  “But?”

  Aspen kicked off her boots and began to wiggle out of her pants. “But we need something else, first.”

  Before Raven could do anything, Aspen jumped into the tub with a splash and kissed her passionately. When the kiss parted, she said, “I love you.”

  Raven held her tight. “I love you too. But you just ruined your favorite bra.”

  Aspen laughed and kissed Raven’s nose. “I’ll get another, there is only one you.”

  Raven sank down into the water with Aspen in her arms. She no longer cared about wrinkled toes.

  *

  It was hours before she left the bathroom refreshed and dressed in a clean pair of jeggings, boots and a blue shirt that hugged her curves. She wore her shoulder holster over the shirt and her badge was clipped to her belt. Aspen was in the kitchen wearing nothing but an old tee shirt and a pair of purple Ugg slippers. Her tablet was in her hand and she was stirring a cup of tea without touching it.

  Raven went to the fridge and pulled out a can of iced coffee. It wasn’t the real thing, but it was better than nothing.

  “You still have to teach me that trick,” she said, indicating the tea.

  “Sorry, lover, you need some Fae blood for that one,” Aspen said without looking up.

  Raven sat at the table beside her. “What’s so interesting?”

  Aspen turned the tablet so Raven could see what was on the screen. “I found the police report for our first kill back in 2006. She was killed just like all ours, strangled and face cut, but she had no runes.”