Cursed Sight Page 25

  “And you find that strange how?” The sounds of the office hummed around them. I had my own reasons for being here, for watching Mel Morgan and the more I knew about her the better.

  “Nothing I can put my finger on really. Just strange.” Fulbright was being reticent and I understood. Most cops didn’t like Omega or Sentinel.

  I stared out the window for a moment then looked at my new partner. Fulbright shifted and threw me an annoyed glare.

  “It’s an old case, nine years to be exact. A kid went missing. House trashed. Blood everywhere, parents’ throats slit. And this Morgan kid standing there, covered in blood not saying a word. Then we found there’s a kid missing; Morgan’s younger sister Arianne. From the blood and the condition of the house we knew the chances the girl was alive were slim to none, and Morgan was the main suspect. Case closed.” Fulbright shook his head.

  “So why keep an eye on her now?” I couldn’t keep the criticism from my voice but Fulbright was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t even seem aware.

  “I’ve been looking at the files. And she’s just too good at her job to be . . . normal.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “And this friend of hers you are investigating?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

  “A guy named Samuel Fontaine.” I went cold. Samuel, the Master tracker. So Fulbright was on the paranormal trail after all. I just had to find out how much he knew.

  I’d heard of Fontaine. Powerful Mage trackers were rare. Which is why almost every available paranormal tracker was on both Omega’s and Sentinel’s contractor lists. Including Melisande Morgan. And Fontaine. Until he’d toasted his gray cells on a jump.

  If Morgan’s paranormal identity was blown, everyone else would soon follow. Fulbright was more dangerous than he could ever imagine.

  The detective snorted, reminding me of the unpleasant presence of the other man. I didn’t want to talk to him anymore so I started up the computer and logged into Omega to give my report.

  # End of BLOOD MAGIC Excerpt #

  BUY

  The SoulTracker Series (A DarkWorld Spin-Off)

  Blood Magic

  Demon Kin

  Blood Curse

  Demon Soul

  Blood Moon

  Demon Bones

  SoulTracker Box Set - Books 1-3

  The SoulTracker Series

  Immortal Bound - Apsara Chronicles #1 Sample Chapters

  Immortal Bound Ch1

  In all the years of her particularly strange line of work, and her particularly strange kind of life, Vee Shankar had always done what was required in order to get the bad guy. But today, she was sure she hovered too close to that line she knew she’d never cross.

  Too close.

  Damned well better be worth the effort.

  Vee leaned against the cool brick of the alley wall, ground her already overly-gritted teeth and tilted her head a little to allow her companion easier access to the curve of her neck, the kisser providing the best cover as she kept a cold eye on the bar across the street.

  With Kort a regular on this street, distraction was a better choice than destruction. And Vee may find a use for him in the future. But, one of her biggest discomforts right now was what Syama would think of Vee’s current activities.

  Although thankful for the ever-watchful protection of a four-eyed, four-foot-high, black-as-night hellhound, make-out sessions—fake or real—had never fallen into the appropriate-to-witness box.

  A glance over at the hellhound—currently shrouded by a dense glamor that rendered her invisible to all other eyes, human or otherwise—confirmed that the bitch’s expression was downright judgmental. Vee suppressed a sigh. Making Syama feel better about guard duty for such a distasteful event was going to be a mish.

  She gave the hellhound a warning glare as Kort concentrated on making his way south. Vee’s attention then returned to the entrance to the only establishment on this street still open at the ungodly hour of two in the morning. All the other stores had had the good sense to close up at an hour closer to one deemed not on the straight path to Hell.

  Around the corner was another story entirely; Hunts Point in the Bronx, not the place you’d want to spend your free time even in the stark light of day.

  But what did any of the residents of this neck of the woods really know? The dangers they saw were tangible ones, abusive pimps and drug pushers, trading in flesh and suffering. What they didn’t allow themselves to see lay strictly within the shadows.

  Within their nightmares.

  The stakeout was taking its toll on Vee’s bones. The late fall air—already edged with insistent cold—sank right through her fur-lined leather jacket, the icy wet ground seeping its way up into the soles of her boots to sink deep into her bones.

  A recent rain-shower had bathed the street in a film of moisture, dotting the ragged blacktop with luminescent puddles, each tinted a strangely undulating aqueous green. Above the entrance to the bar, neon lights flickered a sickly jade every few seconds, as if it considered its task unworthy.

  The sign for The Lucky Clover went dark for a full two seconds, then struggled to light up again.

  When it finally emerged, returning reluctantly from the place all fluorescent signs went to die, it was on its second wind, brighter than before.

  Blindingly so.

  Pity the sign was missing the C.

  Vee gave a silent snort, forcing herself to refrain from shifting away from Kort’s exploring lips. The bar would have to settle for being the only lucky lover around because Kort wasn't going to get any.

  In fact, it took Vee far too much concentration to prevent herself from shuddering in disgust as he traced a line along the side of her throat. And judging from the sizable interest pressing against her upper thigh, luck had damn well better have her in her sights soon or the creep was going to end up having a go at her leg.

  He’d be a hot dead mess before he finished, judging by the look in Syama’s eyes. The hellhound rose, took a step forward, the muscles in her massive legs bulging, her obsidian claws clacking against the sidewalk, the sharp sounds a tattoo of gunshots to Vee’s ears.

  Vee shook her head, cringing at the thought. Syama lifted the corner of her upper lip an inch, revealing a hint of a big-ass canine. Then, the hellhound settled back on her haunches, her red-eyed glare underlined by the haughty lift of her dark and pointy chin.

  Sighing with relief, Vee narrowed her eyes as she stared through the front window of the bar, at the interior where shadows danced against the red-glazed glass pane of the double doors, the only entrance to the place this side of the block.

  Around back might have been a better choice, but Vee didn't want to waste time trying to save her wallet, her life or her honor in that putrid back alley.

  Kort, though, was not going to be easy to get away from. She almost felt sorry for him, stringing him along like that, but he was a means to an end, and certainly didn’t rate high on her list of people whose feelings actually mattered. He knew everything that happened on this street and getting him to talk had been blessedly easy.

  Galvanized by the insistent roaming of Kort's hands, and the sudden soft growl that threatened to move past the glamor that hid the sound, Vee pushed away from the wall, and steered the seeking fingers back to her waist. Let him figure out what that meant.

  Movement at the corner of her eye drew Vee's attention to the entrance of the bar as thick shadows melded into one dense dark shape which closed in on the doorway. Someone was leaving and Vee prayed it would be Benny. His appearance would mean an excuse to get away from her overly-amorous companion.

  Considering he had to be amorous to make a living, she wasn’t entirely sure why he seemed so into her. She gave a mental shrug and focused on the job.

  At one-thirty that morning, Vee had received a call from her contact that a new shipment was coming in for Cressida Lane—real-estate mogul, class-A bitch with cojones the size of the state of Tex
as.

  Cressida had fallen on Vee’s radar as a person of interest. Vee had once done the odd bounty-hunting job for the woman, but since Vee had hooked up with the FBI, Cressida had had little use for Vee’s law enforcement services.

  Either the woman was into the wrong kinda shit, or her problems were becoming far too numerous for her to handle in her own ruthless way.

  Today, word on the street was Cressida had misplaced one of her many employees. The fact that Cress happened to be a Class 2 sorcerer, and that Benny happened to be a low-level rakshasa demon, were two issues that were beside the point.

  The bell above that bar’s door tinkled eerily as Benny pushed it open and Vee felt a shiver run through her. Not the kind of shiver that made a girl weak in the knees.

  No. This was the kind of rippling that made the pit of her stomach sizzle with toxic heat, that made her ears ring, that made the taste of bloody copper roil in the back of her mouth.

  With a palm to his shoulder, Vee pushed Kort away and dusted herself off.

  Syama got to her feet and clacked her way closer to stand at Vee’s side.

  “That’s enough for tonight.” Vee kept her voice cold, uninterested and met his eyes head on.

  “But-” Kort protested, curving full lips and giving her a slight flutter of incredibly long lashes. But it was obvious that he made every effort not to look her in the eye.

  “Sorry, buddy. That’s all I paid for.” She gave him an apologetic shrug and stared hard at him until he took a few uncertain steps away, and then melted into the shadows.

  Satisfied that he wasn’t about to come screeching at her like the demon he was, Vee strode across the street, with her hellhound at her side. She’d paid for more than that, but having a word with an ex-employee of the underworld queen, would mean evidence enough to put the woman away.

  Vee stepped onto the wet sidewalk and followed Benny, keeping a good ten yards between them as he headed toward the corner. As he passed a street lamp, he glanced quickly over his shoulder, and Vee glimpsed dark eyebrows, a wide nose, and black eyes. When he took a sudden left into a dark alley, she knew he was onto her.

  Syama paused at the mouth of the alley, standing guard as Vee walked unfaltering into the shadow-ridden depths. Leaving the only source of light behind, Vee slipped a hand into her satchel, and withdrew a metal ball the size of a small orange.

  She pressed a little red button and tossed the silver sphere into the alley, all the while not missing a step. Black night had swallowed most of the length of the narrow backstreet but Vee didn’t need light. Not when she had a special kind of sorcerer-science on her side.

  As the ball flew through the air it began to emit a soft beep. An alarm that increased steadily as it sailed through the shadows. The sphere hit the ground with a metallic clink, the sound almost drowned out by the beeps which had morphed into one long insistent scream.

  Vee automatically held her breath as the metal covering of the ball snapped open, four sections falling away like the peel of a quartered orange. Tendrils of pale gray smoke snaked into the darkness and Vee waited.

  A soft grunt echoed from down the alley towards Vee and she gave a satisfied smirk. Without hesitation she strode into the darkness and smiled as she came upon Benny. He was scowling hard, his eyes now burning a bright red as he glared at her but for all his fury he didn’t dare move a hair on his head.

  Benny stood motionless, surrounded by a sphere of tiny metallic darts that hovered in place. Each deadly sharp point gleamed in the weak light drifting into the alley from a distant street lamp, an air of almost tangible menace around them.

  “What do you want with me?” he asked as he glanced nervously at the barrier of threatening darts. He leaned forward, putting his weight on his toes, as if he was considering making a run for it. “And what the hell did you just do to me?”

  “I suggest you don’t struggle. Or run. The more you fight, the smaller the safe bubble will get. Too much movement and poof, you go right back down to where you came from.”

  “No.”

  Benny’s outcry was so filled with anguish that Vee actually found herself affected for a moment, especially when his sneakered feet went slack. Affected only for a very brief moment, though.

  Then she reminded herself that it was irrelevant how she felt. She had a job to do.

  “Look, Benny. It’s best for everyone if you just come quietly. That little silver sphere around you contains nanites. You know what nanites are, Benny?” Vee tipped her head as she watched his face, waiting for an answer.

  He gave a hesitant nod then said, “Yeah. Sure, I know what nanites are. Tiny metal bug thingies. It’s called science fiction.” He lifted his chin, staring at her, a belligerent look in his eyes.

  Vee shook her head slowly. “Unfortunately for you, Benny, nanites are a science fact where I am concerned, and the ones hovering around you now are programmed to destroy your specific blood type.”

  He scoffed, his fingers closing slowly around the edges of his faded denim jacket, but his gaze jerked back and forth between Vee’s face and the hundreds of metal darts aimed at his body. “I’m O-positive,” he said, lifting his chin as he cleared his throat and scanned the gray barrier.

  Vee laughed softly, the sound eaten by the night as she stepped closer to him. “Don’t you mean O-positive rakshasa, Benny?”

  Benny’s eyes widened as he stared at Vee, as realization slowly dawned on him. “No,” he whispered, the skin on his face growing pale, taking on a deathly pallor. “You’re going to take me back to her, aren’t you?”

  Vee shrugged lightly then moved closer.

  Benny began to struggle, his eyes growing round and petrified. The gray sphere made a sound like a soft metal gong. Then Benny let out a high-pitched shriek as the hundreds of tiny needles sprang forward closing in on the demon, emitting a sound like a thousand swords being drawn from their sheaths. The needles shivered as if they desperately wanted to be one with demonskin, and the expression on Benny’s face said he knew as much.

  Fear was beginning to mess with Benny, so much so that he seemed to be losing his glamor. The outer skin of a well-built dark-haired guy, who’d pass for the average white male if you came across him on the streets of New York, shivered, growing translucent enough for Vee to see beyond it.

  She suppressed a shudder. Rakshasas were the ugliest kind of demons. With their deep red skin, and deadly sharp teeth, they were literally the stuff of nightmares. The only problem was their annoying ability to create some of the most attractive glamors.

  Vee lifted her forefinger and wagged it at him, shaking her head while clicking her tongue softly. “Now, now Benny. Those nanites don’t like you jumping around like that. The more you struggle, the more excited those little guys will get and who knows, some of them may decide it’s party time and head over to those little demon cells inside your body. And I know you don’t want that.”

  The roughly-spiked black hair on Benny’s skull began to shiver as he shook his head, then thought better of it and froze. “I’d rather die than go back to her. You have no idea what she is.”

  Vee hesitated for a moment. She knew Cress well enough, probably the same as anyone else did who knew what she really was. There weren’t that many sorcerers in New York who could summon a rakshasa with the curl of a finger. The woman’s reputation preceded all too well.

  Vee cleared her throat. “I know exactly what she is. You should know you can’t go AWOL with unpaid debt.” Let him stew on that. Vee hoped she’d be able to get on Benny’s good side long enough to obtain the information she’d come for.

  Benny let out a harsh laugh but it only ended up sounding pathetically sad. “With Cressida there’s no such thing as being paid up. You have no idea what we have to put up with. It’s slavery, is what it is. A life-sentence.” His eyes filmed over, now gleaming with what looked suspiciously like tears as he pleaded with her.

  And Vee felt her stomach tighten. The guy certainly seemed to thin
k he didn’t belong back with Cressida. Vee frowned and wondered if there was more to the sorcerer than Vee already knew. She was well aware that there was more going on beneath the banner of Lane’s demon-outreach program, but what else could Cressida’s secret be?

  Bringing demons up from the underworld who want to live a normal life in the human plane was easy enough to accept as long as the creatures behaved themselves, but taking advantage of them, enslaving them, was not something either gods or humans would turn a blind eye to.

  As Vee took a long breath, needing a moment to figure it out, her phone began to beep, the pattern indicating an incoming text. That special ringtone to denote one specific person.

  “Perfect timing,” she grumbled as she dug into her pocket for the cell. She glanced up at Benny and held out the forefinger again. “I won’t be a moment. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Vee glanced at the phone, read the message and suppressed another expletive as she dialed her boss, Assistant Director Anthony Rossi, her supervisor at the agency. Vee’s investigation into Cressida was going to have to wait.

  Vee tapped her foot.

  “Yes.” Rossi was always all business.

  “We have another body, Sir. Karan just messaged. I’ve texted you the address.” Vee blinked as her phone buzzed again announcing another message.

  Rossi’s voice was a rich baritone, classy just like the man. “When?” he was asking, his tone indicating he already knew the answer.

  “Yesterday,” came Vee’s crisp response, glancing at the latest text scrolling at the top of her screen. “And, Monroe just messaged.”

  Karan, her contact who provided Vee with what often seemed suspiciously like insider information, didn’t like wasting time. Vee didn’t mind jumping when he said jump, only because he’d been bringing her cases which had impressed Rossi as well.

  Now, with Karan’s info, Vee just hoped they’d be able to solve the latest killing spree haunting the city.