by N Gray
“Jesus, I’m too afraid to ask you what you see when you look at us,” Ralph said, a hint of distress in his voice.
Devan glanced at me and held his gaze. “I learned from a young age not to talk about everything I see. It affects people too much, and then they sit around waiting for it to happen instead of just living their lives. So, if I can, I prefer not to say.” He glanced down at his hands and started rubbing the pressure points on his palms with his thumbs — first, the right hand, then the left.
“Why are you working with us, Devan? You could make plenty of money on your own.”
“I’m interested in what you do, Blaire. It’s a better cause than telling someone they will die from cancer in twenty years' time. Or telling a mom that her son will not make it out of hospital. Or feeling what someone did to their own child when I shake their hand. I’d rather be part of a team who put the monsters away, than be helping them.”
Fair enough: I couldn’t argue with that. But… “You’re still so young, Devan. Isn’t there something you wanted to study or somewhere you wanted to go before you settled down with a job?”
“No, I prefer to limit my contact.”
“Gotta take a piss,” Ralph blurted, and he climbed out the car.
It’s so easy for men; they can go wherever they want. Women needed toilet paper and a seat. Just thinking about it made me need the bathroom.
“Do you think they’d mind if I knocked on their door to use the bathroom?” I thumbed toward the house parallel to the car.
“At this time? Rather not, Blaire,” Sawyer said. “It’s safer to go in that bush over there. It’s big enough to hide you.”
I stared at the hedge Sawyer was pointing at, and it was a huge japonica near where Ralph had disappeared. I didn’t want to tinkle out in the open; we weren’t camping.
In my bag, I found some tissues and went to the hedge. The air was icy, with the smell of rain edging near. The hedge was large and was trimmed into half a circle, with the opening facing another hedge. It hid me well enough to do what I needed, and I buried the tissue in the loose soil beneath the hedge. As I walked out of the hedge, I saw McNielty’s porch light switch off, followed by those in the kitchen, and then his house was swarmed with darkness. The time on my cell read 1:18am.
I walked between the houses toward his residence and stopped alongside a dark tree. In my black cargo pants and black winter jacket, I blended easily into the darkness.
McNielty’s house was quiet, dark, and eerie.
I thought of the woman with the white dress and the blood stains. Her short hair, her mutilated ears, and her missing tongue. How could we get her out from McNielty’s basement?
I glanced back at Ralph’s car. I could see all its occupants clearly from where I stood. If McNielty had come out of his house, he would have seen us. This was not good. Perhaps he’d seen us already and wasn’t prepared to go out tonight to complete his four pairs: two of each eye color and enough organs to feed the black market. I walked back to the car among the shadows.
“It looks like he’s turning in for the evening. Plus, I could see you from where I stood. There is a possibility he saw us and canceled his nocturnal plans,” I said to Ralph through his open window.
“Should we call it a night?” he asked.
I walked around to get into the passenger seat. “Perhaps we should.” I buckled in. “Let’s go home and get some sleep. There’s nothing else happening tonight.”
Devan squeezed his eyes shut, exhaled loudly and drawled, “The victim with grey eyes is already dead.”
We all stared at him.
Devan opened his eyes. “He dumped the victim near a warehouse on the far side of town. I don’t know how he did it, but he did.” He sighed. “Now we just need someone to find the victim.”
“Fuck! How did we not see him leave?” It was almost a yell, but I was angry. We’d been out here watching his house all evening, and we hadn’t seen him leave. His car had not moved since it pulled into his driveway.
“I don’t know. It’s impossible, but we did.” Devan frowned. He sounded like he couldn’t believe it either.
“Have you ever been mistaken, Devan? Has anything like this ever happened to you before? Not getting it right, I mean?”
“No, I’ve never been wrong before. Ever.” He shook his head gently, then leaned into the seat and put his head back. “I felt him inside the house the entire time. He didn’t leave.”
“Can he feel you?”
“I doubt it; I shield pretty well,” he said, lifting his head. “But”—he looked at me—“I can feel and see you.”
I frowned at him. “What does that mean?”
“Why didn’t I think of it before? If I can, so can he. You need to shield yourself better, Blaire.”
“How the fuck do I do that? I only recently learned how to absorb someone’s power and return it, and I haven’t even grasped that concept properly. What do I have to do to shield myself?” My anger boiled to the surface and I didn’t hide it.
Sawyer shivered and rubbed his arms. Devan blinked wide eyes.
Ralph frowned and said, “What’s going on?”
“It’s your anger, Blaire. You mustn’t let it out like that. You need to learn how to control it.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “If I knew how to do that, Devan, I would.”
He reached out for me with his hand, palm-side up. “Give me your hand.”
My arms were still crossed. I shook my head and said, “No, tell me what you’re going to do first.” I didn’t trust touching anyone anymore, especially after being violated by Léon.
“Don’t you trust anyone?”
“No. She never has, and I don’t think she ever will,” Ralph said.
“Gee, thanks, Ralph.”
“Please, I rarely want to touch anyone like this,” Devan pleaded. He looked wounded.
My frown deepened, but I placed my hand in his.
The moment our hands connected, an electric shock ran through my fingertips. It was different to what I’d felt before; it wasn’t a power like Seraphine’s, which was intended to hurt me. This was a soft tingle that sprinted through me, searching. His power was looking for something within me. His hand was holding onto mine while he metaphysically navigated through me: up my arm, around my shoulder, through my rib cage, and close to my heart. It hovered for a second before moving up to my neck and my head. It sounded like a bee inside my skull, and I shook my head, more out of reflex than fear. His power traveled down my spine and into my legs, then came back up along my spine, through my hand, and back to where it started.
Once he had let go of my hand, I opened my eyes. Devan was paler than before, and he fell limply against the back seat.
“Holy crap, that felt weird,” I said.
“It didn’t hurt, did it?”
“No, you didn’t hurt me. What were you looking for?” I asked.
Devan swallowed a few times and eventually said in a hoarse voice, “I can either tell you in front of these two, or we can speak privately. It’s your choice.”
I frowned again. “I don’t like the sound of that, Devan. Is it bad, or is it just private?”
“Just private, Blaire. There’s nothing bad, I promise.” He closed his eyes and looked asleep.
Ralph started the engine and pulled away. He would drop Sawyer and I off first and then go to Devan’s apartment. He would be spending another night on the sofa there. Which was a relief, as I didn’t want any of us to be alone with the voodoo priest walking around a free man.
We arrived at the Labyrinth, and Ralph parked near the same door he had fetched us from earlier.
“Come on, Sawyer; let’s give them some privacy.” Ralph climbed out and Sawyer followed him; they stood near the door of the Labyrinth, waiting for us to join them.
“Okay, Devan, talk to me. What did you see—or rather, what did you feel?”
Devan sat up. He was still deathly pale. “You knew about your abilit
y before you were attacked.”
“Yeah, I had to have known. But Ralph was unaware.”
“You must’ve shielded yourself well enough from everyone then. Otherwise me and every other witch or clairvoyant would have known about you a long time ago. Before yesterday, I hadn’t known about your gift, and it was only recently that I started to see a glow shining at night. Now I know that glow was you, Blaire. Your white aura shines brightly on a clear evening sky. You have it in you to shield again.”
I did my slow blink as I thought about what he had just said. I must have previously had training to hide myself from everyone. Someone must have taught me.
Devan continued. “Can I suggest something?”
I nodded.
“All I can tell you is what I was taught. Close your eyes and picture what you think your aura and your ability looks like, even if it’s a token of some sort. Place them behind walls: make them metal or brick—anything—just as long as your aura and ability are behind that wall. Then, when you need to use them, imagine the wall coming down one brick or one slate at a time. You need to figure it out for yourself before someone powerful tries to challenge you. Your recent discovery—absorbing someone’s power and using it at will—is dangerous. There are people out there who would seek to use you for it.” His pale eyes darkened; his sky-blue eye looked like a storm before thunder, and his light green eye looked like an emerald that had been left in the shadows. He looked haunted and scared.
“I don’t—”
“You have to try.”
“Okay.” My frown was back, and I wiped beads of sweat from my forehead. I unzipped my jacket, “Okay, I’ll try.”
I shook my shoulders and then closed my eyes. I pictured my ability and wrapped it in the white of what I thought my aura should look like. Walls came out of the ground, made from brick at first, but they slowed changed to metal. That way, there wouldn’t be any holes for the white light to seep through. The metal wall was so high that when I looked up, I couldn’t see where it ended. And the metal wall was wide, and the white was … gone.
“Good! That’s very good, Blaire! There’s still a small spark, but it’s nowhere near as bright as that beacon you were omitting. One would need to be very near you to see that spark.”
Muscle memory working at its best, I supposed. I had to do it to protect my own ass. My smile reached my eyes, but Devan’s attempt faltered at the sides.
“Did it take a lot out of you to search through me like that?”
“Just to take a peek? Yes, but I didn’t want to do any more than that. And there’s one more thing, Blaire. There is something stopping you from moving forward. You need to figure out what’s causing it and undo it.”
“Yeah, I know, but I’m struggling.”
Devan gave me serious eyes, like my life depended on me finding out who I truly was. I shifted in my seat. His solemn look softened as his shoulders sagged, and he leaned against the seat again, utterly exhausted.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” I said, opening the door.
He didn’t answer.
I climbed out and walked to the two men. Ralph and Sawyer were discussing football when I reached them. I had no interest in the sport, so I waited for them to finish.
We arranged that Ralph would phone if he heard from Martin about the discovery of the victim—the latest one with the grey eyes.
Once Sawyer and I were inside the Labyrinth, the walls had already shifted, and the hallways were different again. Sawyer guided me to Sebastian’s door, which was open. The room was empty. Sawyer used his radio to find out who would take over from him so he could get some sleep. Apparently, Rory was on his way. I closed the door with Sawyer on the other side of it and went to the bathroom.
When I was back in the bedroom, there was a soft knock on the door. “Yes?” I said while I removed my shoes.
“It’s Rory, Blaire. Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
Rory came in, as good as new. The injuries he’d sustained the previous night were gone, like nothing had ever happened.
“Sebastian wanted me to tell you personally that he is busy assisting Léon with vampire business, and that you should get some rest,” Rory said in a serious tone. He sounded well-rehearsed.
“What’s really going on, Rory?” I rose and approached him.
“It’s vampire business, Blaire.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He took a step backward. He was a were-wolf and, from what I could tell, was dominant in the pack, so him stepping away from me said something. Either he was afraid of me, or he didn’t want me to know what was really going on. I stepped forward until I was close enough to almost touch him and looked up into his face.
“Tell me, Rory. Now,” I said, making it a command.
He stared down at me with such intensity, but I didn’t blink. The look I was giving him was the same one I gave when I held my gun, courtesy of where I went to in my mind. My dark, quiet place.
He blinked first and sighed. “There are vamps visiting Léon. It’s the group Envision and two others.”
“See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” I patted his left shoulder. “And don’t worry. I won’t go looking for trouble.”
His shoulders dropped when he exhaled. What did he think I would do?
Normally, I would’ve asked what they were doing here, but it wasn’t my business and I was tired. I would rather sleep then discuss vampire business with a were-wolf.
“I’m going to sleep, Rory. Will you be standing outside all evening?”
“Yes, until Sawyer wakes up.”
Rory left and closed the door behind him. I climbed under the covers and tried to sleep.
In my mind, I thought,
The sheets were cold, and I kept turning from one side to the other. I couldn’t get comfortable. I think I eventually fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.
Chapter 14
IT WAS BEFORE NOON WHEN WE stopped outside an abandoned warehouse with an open lot. Police personnel were hovering around something on the ground covered in brown rags. Some personnel were taking pictures, while others were busy cordoning off the area with yellow police tape. Detective Martin Everett was on his haunches, looking over the rags on the ground.
Somehow, despite our surveillance of his property, McNielty, our voodoo priest, had left his house undetected, driven across town to kill a grey-eyed father of two, and made it back in time to switch off his house lights. We needed to check whether his house lights were on a timer or if he could operate them using his cellphone.
Red, the clairvoyant the police used, and Devan were both positive that Ross McNielty was our killer.
Martin lifted his head and scowled when he saw us. He stood over six feet tall and walked over to us; he towered over me.
“I thought you were watching our voodoo boy?” Martin grumbled, like dark thunder.
“We were, Martin. But, as you know, he’s a slippery fucker.” Ralph said, standing straighter and staring Martin in the eyes. “Otherwise you’d have caught him yourself by now.”
Martin opened his mouth to say something but closed it, pursing his lips tightly. It looked like he might be counting to ten. A vein along his neck pulsed. The counting must have helped because he calmed down, closed his eyes, and exhaled.
When he opened his eyes, he said, “Fair enough.” He pointed to the brown rags on the ground. “Our victim: six foot two, male, weighs between two hundred and two-hundred-and-twenty pounds. It’s the same M.O. as the others, and this one had grey eyes like the last victim. Killer stitched his abdomen together, like the others, so we can assume his organs are missing and we will no doubt find a little voodoo doll inside. But we can only confirm this once the autopsy has been done.” He sighed. The rings under his eyes were visible, even though he had a dark complexion, and his eyes were red. He appeared exhausted.
“Do y
ou think he’s finished now that he has killed two of every eye color?” I asked from the side, lifting my hand in front of my face to keep the sun out of my eyes. It was unusually bright for so early in the day. I could have stood in Martin’s shadow, but I didn’t feel like staring directly up at him.
“We hope so,” Martin said.
“Can I have a look?” Devan asked.
“Who are you?” Martin grimaced.
“He works with us, Martin. Let him have a look. Maybe he can pick up something we can’t,” Ralph said.
Martin sighed again, and it sounded like it hurt. “Hell, why not”—he lifted his arm to point the way—“be my guest. I’ll be over there if you need me.” He left us and stood with some uniformed colleagues from his unit.
We walked over to the body in rags.
The victim’s eyes were open, and his mouth was slack. The dark soil smeared on his face was different to the tan soil beneath him. It looked like potting soil, or that which was typically found in gardens—much like the soil beneath the hedge I had my bathroom break in last night. Unlike the other victims, who had looked as though they had been pushed out of the car and rolled in the dirt, this one was neatly positioned on the ground.
Did McNielty do this to confuse us or to shift our focus in another direction?
I was leaning toward confusing us, and he had planted the potting soil on the vic’s face to throw us off his trail.
The vic’s hands were missing; they had been cleanly removed. There were no jagged edges to show that the monster who did this had struggled to take the hands off. All it had taken was one quick swoop of something sharp and they’d come clean off. The killer had wrapped the victim in the rags, which were either an old sheet or a curtain: it was paper thin and shredded in some parts. The victim was naked, with a long cut from neck to pelvis that had been sewn back together with fishing line.
Martin hadn’t mentioned this, but our grey-eyed victim was missing his private parts, similarly to the other grey-eyed victim, the homeless man. Was the removal of their private parts linked to their eye color? Whereas only the internal organs had been removed from the other victims.