Darkness Unveiled

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Darkness Unveiled Page 3

by Emerson Knight


  He had been a decent detective at one time, until the gambling had caught up with him. I knew plenty about Dennis McDuffy, from the same source that had hacked Sky’s phone for me—Stacy, a young paralegal at the law firm I worked for, who had a hidden talent for illicit research. I’d caught her siphoning data on our corporate clients and selling it to a Russian vampire Seethe in Ohio that specialized in cybercrimes and identity theft. They had threatened Stacy’s family, and she was struggling to keep up with their demands. Having found out her story, I couldn’t blame her for not going to the police. The regular world didn’t know about vampires, werewolves, and witches beyond crappy television shows and over-the-top movies. I had no interest in traveling to Ohio, so I’d let Demetrius solve the vampire problem. He was old-school. He didn’t recognize digital borders and didn’t appreciate an intrusion on his turf. I got Stacy off the hook and she did favors for me on the side, for cash.

  “I need to find someone,” I said.

  Dennis winced. “I should just tell you up front,” he said out of the side of his mouth, “I’m not that kind of detective.” I scowled, and he continued. “Let’s just assume you’re asking about a missing relative.” He nodded for the both of us. “Most of the time, people disappear because they want to. I don’t really care about the reasons why, but I’m not dragging someone back to a life they’ve already given up on.”

  “But you do take missing person cases,” I said. He did.

  Dennis tipped his head back to look down his nose at me. He sniffed. “Depends.”

  I removed a small piece of paper from my pocket, opened it, then pushed it across the desk toward him. When he read the name, I heard his heart rate more than double. Once again, he quickly brought his fear under control—mostly. He folded the paper, holding it as he scrutinized me. After a moment of quiet contemplation, I removed the envelope of cash from inside my suit jacket and pushed that toward him.

  The PI’s forehead tightened as he contemplated the envelope before gingerly picking it up to examine the contents. His pupils dilated. He set the envelope down—closer to him than to me—and vigorously rubbed his chin with a palm, molding his lips into a scowl as he scrutinized me, for all the good it did him. His eyes flicked to the name on the piece of paper, then to me. “You already know Skylar Brooks is a client of mine.”

  “Not anymore.”

  Dennis grunted, amused. “Well, buddy, my noodles are getting cold.” He tapped the envelope with a finger. “What are you buying, exactly?”

  “I’m buying you. For six months. Exclusive retainer.”

  His scowl deepened. Good. “You want me to follow Miss Brooks, find out what color panties she wears, who she dates, who she—”

  “Your business with her is complete.”

  “Oh.” He nodded, then winced as he shook his head. “I gotta tell ya, that’s some intense jealousy on your part. You paying off her mailman as well? What about her dentist?”

  I ignored the taunt. “What exactly does Skylar have you doing?”

  “She’s a nice kid. A little stubborn and a lot pushy, but nice. She’s just looking for her family. Why don’t you keep your money and leave the kid alone,” he said, but left the envelope where it was.

  “You think I want to hurt her?”

  “No offense, pal, but you look like a guy that hurts a lot of people,” Dennis said.

  I smiled, showing my teeth. “She is safe, and I’m going to keep it that way. I want your file on what you found for Skylar. Tell her you found nothing, then resign from the case.”

  “That’s it?”

  “I might take advantage of your retainer. I might not. I’ll let you know.”

  Dennis drummed his fingers on the table in front of the envelope as he chewed his lower lip, then snatched the envelope and quickly dropped it into a desk drawer, replacing it with a thin manila folder from the file cabinet behind him. “She doesn’t know, yet.”

  I rose, took a card from my wallet, and placed it on his desk. “Whatever she paid you,” I said, taking the folder, “refund it.”

  His lips pressed into a tight frown, but he nodded.

  In the driver’s seat of my SUV, I skimmed through the folder. After making sure I wasn’t followed out of the building, Marko joined me a moment later, standing next to my window. The file was thin, but Dennis had done his job. Sky’s birth mother had four siblings: William, Caitlyn, Elizabeth, and Madalena. All of them had emigrated from Portugal and were living together in a small town in Northern Virginia, just outside of D.C. Several of Sky’s cousins lived there as well. An unusual living arrangement, but why? Dennis hadn’t bothered to ask. His job had been to find her family, and he’d done it.

  Marko waited patiently while I thought my plan through carefully. “We’re making a couple stops, and then we’re flying to Virginia,” I said, reaching back to drop the folder on the backseat.

  His eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. “Commercial?”

  “No.” I hate waiting. I drove toward a small, private airport just outside of Chicago while he called Aidan O’Dowd, a charter pilot the pack kept on retainer.

  After some conversation on the phone, Marko informed me, “He sends his apologies, but he’s booked for the day.”

  I scowled. “Put him on speaker.”

  “Ethan,” Aiden said cheerfully, putting his Irish charm on display. “My apologies. I’ve got a charter arriving in thirty minutes.”

  “Cancel it.”

  “If you say so,” he said begrudgingly, “but I have to tell you, this one’s going to be expensive.”

  I frowned. The pack retainer covered the charter and kept Aidan accessible, but it didn’t pay him to sit around waiting for our call. He had wealthy clients who didn’t appreciate being shuffled to the back of the line. Apologies were costly. Was it worth it? Until I could prove otherwise, I had to assume that Sky’s family was a threat to her. If the private investigator defied my instructions and informed her of my interference, she would waste no time contacting them. I was pretty sure he understood his personal safety was at stake, as well as a generous retainer, but stupidity was always difficult to anticipate. If the family was a threat to Sky, I wanted it dealt with quickly.

  “Bill it to me, not the pack.”

  “If you say so. My bird is ready to fly. What’s your ETA?”

  “One hour.”

  Four hours later, I drove the rental SUV onto the driveway of a large white cottage on the outskirts of a small, historic Virginia town. The parcel of land was several acres in a pastoral neighborhood. As I parked, an older man rose from a chair on the porch, eyeing us with suspicion, but that was hardly a surprise. I didn’t like uninvited guests, either. I took my briefcase from the backseat. By the time Marko and I emerged from the SUV, the man was joined by a plain woman with amber eyes and a congenial smile. If they were family to Skylar, they didn’t look it.

  The man, if properly identified by Dennis, was Skylar’s uncle, William. He had broad cheekbones and a friendly but practiced smile. The woman next to him was probably Aunt Madalena. A brown-haired woman emerged from the house to join them. She was more severe-looking, less congenial—Aunt Caitlyn, I assumed. She glared down from the porch with a hawkish gaze.

  “Good afternoon,” I said, offering my most professional smile. “My name is Ethan Charleston. I’m—”

  “We’re not interested in selling,” Caitlyn said dismissively.

  Her assumption caught me by surprise, but only for a moment. They were on choice land. “I’m not a real estate agent. I’m—”

  “A lawyer, then,” Caitlyn said heavily, as if the word were a weight dropping from her lips. “Real estate agents and lawyers—it’s hard to tell the difference.”

  Uncle William intervened, showing more hospitality. “What can I do for you, Mr. Charleston?”

  I noticed his eyes flicking toward Marko, who stood stoically a few feet behind me. At my gesture, he returned to the SUV. Intimidation, while easy, wasn’t
always the most practical tactic. For the moment, it wasn’t necessary. “There’s no easy way to tell you. I am here regarding the last will and testament of your sibling, Senna Nunes.” I heard several hearts skip a beat, confirming the relation.

  Caitlyn scowled. “My sister died over twenty years ago, unexpectedly. Even if there was a will, you’re a bit late.”

  “The situation is complicated. Perhaps we can talk inside.”

  The siblings exchanged glances before the two women went inside. After them, William held the door open, wearing a polite smile as he gestured for me to follow them. From the moment I stepped inside, I scanned my surroundings, taking in as much detail about the family as possible. Small, magical talismans were quickly apparent, hung haphazardly throughout the cluttered cottage—not your typical, mundane good luck charms. I had seen the likes of these talismans before. These were wards against magic. They might already know what I am. That could be helpful, should it come to a threat.

  I entered the kitchen just as a young brunette with a stern expression rose from a chair. She was slightly younger than Sky, but similar in appearance, with mahogany curls, green eyes, and an air of defiance. She swept a pair of old books from the table, but not before I noticed the kind of symbols that could be found throughout Josh’s library. She regarded me with suspicion as she passed me on her way out of the kitchen, the books clutched protectively in her arms.

  I took the seat at the table that was offered to me, though it put me at a tactical disadvantage, with my back to the living room. Was that deliberate? A test? A lawyer wouldn’t have noticed such a thing, so I allowed them their game. The brunette returned to stare at me. She could’ve remained in the entryway behind me, observing, but she chose to stand where her arrogant glare would be most obvious to me. I gave her an appreciative half-smile and stared until Madalena introduced me.

  “Senna, this is Ethan Charleston. He’s an attorney, here to speak to us about your aunt’s will.” Senna drew a smartphone from her pocket as she gave me a distrusting scowl and began tapping the screen. “She is named after her aunt,” Madalena informed me.

  “You’re a corporate attorney,” Senna announced, looking up from her phone with a triumphant look. “You don’t do wills.”

  “I’m helping a friend out,” I lied without the slightest change in my heart rate or respiration, but Senna remained unconvinced.

  William sat across from me. “You have a story to tell us.” It was as much an accusation as it was an invitation.

  “Your sister’s will was in the possession of one Elena Brooks, who chose—for reasons unknown—not to reveal it. The will was rediscovered when Miss Brooks recently passed away.”

  “Our sister never mentioned an Elena Brooks,” William said, cutting off a sharp retort by Caitlyn. “What was their relationship?”

  If he lied, he gave no physiological sign. Neither did the others. Their breathing, their heart rates were constant, yet my gut warned me they were hiding something. I considered leaving without another word. A normal family, removed from the supernatural world, could be good for Skylar—but this was not a normal family. They knew of magic and who knew what else.

  “Elena Brooks was the legal guardian of Senna’s only daughter, Skylar,” I said, reading their surprised and skeptical reactions.

  “Senna’s child is alive?” Madalena asked.

  While pregnant with Sky, Senna, along with the baby’s father, a were-animal, was attacked by a vampire. The father was killed outright, but the vampire attempted to turn Senna. While the mother was human, her baby was an inherent were-animal. Were-animals couldn’t be turned by the vampiric curse. For her, the conversion process would mean certain death. Elena Brooks intervened in time to stop the vamp, but not before the damage was done. In order to save her child, Senna sacrificed her life, transferring Maya, a spirit shade, to her unborn daughter. Only Maya’s presence kept Skylar alive, to be raised by Elena.

  “Our sister was murdered while she was pregnant,” Caitlyn insisted.

  “Miss Brooks had a medical background. She happened upon the scene and successfully performed an emergency C-section. So you are aware of how your sister died, then?” I asked, fishing. If Elena knew of the family, she wouldn’t have raised Skylar herself. Unless she was asked to.

  “Our sister was estranged from us,” William admitted. “We discovered her demise after the fact.”

  “Is her child still alive?” Senna demanded. “Where is she?” I met her gaze without answering, deliberately agitating her. She was visibly excited, with a curious sense of urgency. “What about Maya?” she asked Caitlyn, who was quick to shuffle the girl out of the room. “She might know where the Aufero is,” the girl whispered excitedly—not softly enough to escape my enhanced hearing.

  “Say no more while he is in our home,” Caitlyn whispered.

  I turned to William, scrutinizing him the way he scrutinized me.

  “Perhaps our lost niece—Skylar Brooks—should join us for this conversation,” he said. “Perhaps you should call her, or better yet give me her number. I’m sure she would appreciate knowing that she has family, after all.” His lie was too perfect. He didn’t blink at all for what should be an emotional moment.

  “The will is very specific,” I said blandly. “Senna Nunes left you a generous sum, but there are conditions.”

  The contract was a hasty affair, basically a template with some names filled in and a few conditions added. It didn’t need to stand up to intense legal scrutiny. It was simply a deterrent. If the family violated the terms, it wasn’t the court system that would meet out punishment. I withdrew the contract from my briefcase and unfolded it onto the table; I placed a pen next to it. Caitlyn returned just as I removed the cashier’s check from the envelope in my pocket and placed it on top of the contract. I felt the sudden rise of tension suck the oxygen out of the room. The three of them remained perfectly still, calculating instead of surprised or curious. In that moment, I knew they were a threat.

  Caitlyn took one step closer, enough to read the check from above. “Senna didn’t have money,” she said softly. “Not that kind of money.”

  “What conditions?” William asked.

  “Skylar Brooks is to be left alone. Zero contact. If you reach out to her, even just an e-mail, there will be consequences,” I said menacingly. “If she contacts you, ignore her. If she shows up at your door, don’t open it. If you say so much as ‘go away,’ the repercussions will be severe.”

  “Is this the will talking?” Madalena asked. “Or you?”

  I folded my hands in my lap, holding her gaze.

  “In some worlds,” she said carefully, “accepting payment is more than just a legal obligation.”

  “Then we understand one another.”

  Caitlyn stepped back from the table as if the check were poison. “Keep your money,” she snapped.

  William said, “I think I can speak for my sisters when I say we do not accept.”

  I folded the contract and returned it to my briefcase, followed by the pen, then the check. I rose, briefcase in hand. William and Madalena rose as well.

  “Who are you, Mr. Charleston?” Caitlyn demanded.

  I let my wolf rise to the surface, giving them a flash of gunmetal, canine eyes. Caitlyn stepped back, muttering a curse, but the other two remained cautiously still. “I represent the Midwest Pack,” I said slowly, adding emphasis. They knew what that entailed—their fear finally showed itself, tinged with anger. “Skylar is nothing to you. Keep it that way. If I have to come back here, there will not be a conversation. I’ll see myself out.”

  Certain that I had made my point, I left them in the kitchen and returned to the SUV.

  Sensing my mood, Marko remained silent through the journey back to Chicago while my mind raced with questions. What was the Aufero Senna had mentioned, and how did it relate to Sky? What did they know about Maya? According to Sky, the spirit shade had gone dormant last year. To free Sky from the grip of th
e Gem of Levage, I’d been forced to kill her—in my nightmares, I still saw the moment of her death, my hands wrapped around her throat and tears streaming down her cheeks. I watched the fear and resignation in her eyes as she expelled her last breath. The few minutes it had taken Dr. Baker to bring her back to life had seemed an agonizing eternity, but he had succeeded. She’d spent the next four days in a coma, communing with Maya. According to Sky, Maya had revealed her life story to her before announcing that she was going dormant. Four days was a long time. Josh and I were both certain that Sky had left out some details—probably a lot.

  I could’ve pressed the family for more answers, but they were artful; I doubted there was anything more I could learn from them that would be the truth, and I didn’t want to give them any more information on Sky. They got my message, and understood the power behind it, but would need to be watched.

  After landing at O’Hare, we picked up my SUV and made it out of the city before stopping for gas. Marko went into the store while I pumped, questions running on a loop through my mind. After a moment, I noticed a muscle-bound boy, human, barely twenty, wearing a tight t-shirt and a backward baseball cap, staring at me from the other island. A lit cigarette hung from his lips while he pumped gas into his daddy’s Ford F-150. Our eyes met and he nodded once, a short quick jerk of his chin. His lips spread into a smirk as he stared at me, unblinking—a fool’s challenge, daring me to call out his stupidity or submissively avert my gaze. I got that look occasionally from human men of all ages. He sensed the Alpha in me and instinctively wanted to prove himself, but he had no idea what I was. He wasn’t a were-animal. A were-animal would know better. We weren’t going to bump chests and dare each other to throw the first punch. I let the boy see the wolf in my eyes—just for a moment. He straightened, his own eyes widening in surprise, then looked away, pretending to casually observe the scenery, but his heart gave him away. It raced in rising panic as he tried to make sense of what he’d just witnessed. His fingers trembled as they pinched the cigarette from his lips.

 

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