Читать книгу Immortal Hunter - Kait Ballenger - Страница 11

CHAPTER FIVE

FRIENDS? FRIENDS? WHY the hell did she have to label it like that? She had regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth, and David’s willingness to agree had hit her like a sucker punch to the gut. She was fooling herself if she thought she could ever be “just friends” with David. She’d always cared for him, from the time she thought boys didn’t have cooties anymore until she was old enough to realize her true feelings: that she loved him.

She ran her eyes over his frame. Towering over her at a whopping six foot six, with muscles that put most of the male population to shame, he was quite literally tall, dark and handsome, sporting the bad-boy look to boot in his leather Harley gear. His deep brown eyes were so close to black she could almost drown in their darkness, and the feel of his large masculine hands holding her moments earlier was as divine as it had ever been. Heat rushed between her legs as she thought of all the things he could do with those hands.

No. She shook her head to shove the thoughts away as the handshake ended. She didn’t love him, not anymore. She had moved on from that chapter in her life, left all the memories, both the good and the bad, behind her. She did not love David. She didn’t even know David anymore. Until they’d recently met again, it had been years since they’d last seen each other for any extended period of time, much less spoken to one another. Her gaze traced over his sharply defined features, his prominent cheekbones and jawline. She was forced to admit to herself that David was like a fine bottle of top shelf whiskey that only got better and better with age.

A sudden feeling of self-conscious awareness hit her hard. She doubted he was thinking the same thing about her. She glanced down at herself, unable to ignore her appearance. A hospital gown wasn’t flattering on anyone, and from the lovely breeze she was getting back there, she was certain that her behind was bared for anyone’s viewing pleasure. And her curls probably hadn’t been combed through in ages.

But there she was, standing in front of David looking like something one of her cats had digested and then hacked up all over her brand new carpet. She knew she shouldn’t care, but somewhere a part of her still hoped that David was the same man she’d once planned to marry. The one who would take care of her when she had the flu or comfort her when she was sick, and tell her she was beautiful all the same. He thought he’d been seeing her at her worst then, but damn if she wasn’t vain enough to have put on just a touch of makeup every time before he’d come over.

Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, David began to text a message. “Let’s get you to my place and cleaned up as soon as possible.”

“Who are you texting?” she asked.

“Jace. He’s been blowing up my phone with calls for the last twenty minutes, probably wondering why you weren’t at the hospital when he showed up, and someone needs to watch over you while I finish up here. He can take you back to my apartment.”

“Wait a second. I agreed to stay with you, not to be kept under lock and key.”

“I don’t want you to get another look at what’s down in that basement.”

She rolled her eyes. She wasn’t some fragile china doll that was easily broken, and he knew that. “It’s dead bodies, David. I’ve seen them before.”

“You didn’t see what was around the other corner, and believe me, Allie, you don’t want to see it.”

She crossed her arms. “I’ve seen some pretty gruesome things over the years, David, and you know it. I doubt there could be anything down there that I haven’t seen worse. Remember when that Imp decided to prey on teenage girls?”

A grim look crossed his face. “It’s worse than that.”

Allsún’s eyes widened. She wasn’t certain she could imagine anything worse. She wasn’t weak, but she couldn’t detach herself from the victims the way David could. She had spent hours crying once that case was over with. It didn’t matter that they’d earned justice for the victims. The pain of the victims’ loved ones and their horribly unfair deaths was still with her.

“David, whatever it is, after everything with Robert, I’m sure I can handle it.” No matter her feelings, she wasn’t about to let him baby her. The sooner she could prove to him that she was strong, fully recovered both mentally and physically, the better. She needed to get the hell out of there as soon as possible.

David shook his head. “Allie, I know you, and believe me when I say you can’t handle this one. We both know you’re one tough chick, so you don’t need to prove it to me. Not this time.”

“Fine. If you’re not going to let me help and just plan to keep me...keep me prisoner, then I’m leaving.”

She needed to get out of here and away from him anyway. She shifted to move past him, but he grabbed hold of her wrist. Another wave of electric power shot through her, straight to her heart and the growing warmth between her legs. The energy that flew between them just from his touch was mind-blowing and sexy and a massive reminder of everything they’d once shared. She could have sworn that from the brief look of shock in David’s eyes that he felt it, too.

She forced herself to pull her wrist away and fixed him with a stern glare—the same stern look that had always let him know that he was pushing the envelope with her, and if he kept it up, he would regret it when her anger peaked.

They both knew that hell hath no fury like a pixie pissed off. The last thing she needed was the heartache he still brought her, even all these years later.

David let out a long sigh and tried to renegotiate. “The point is that you shouldn’t be here. You need to be resting. You need to be healing.”

“I’ve been healing for a month, David. I feel fine now that the drugs are wearing off. All my injuries from Robert are gone.” She cringed a little as she said his name. The thought of what Robert had done to her still haunted her. “Besides, I want to get to the bottom of all this, too. I want to know why I was drawn here.”

The pain in his face pierced through her. She saw the guilt he felt written all over him.

He pressed his lips together until they formed a thin line before he sighed. “If you want to stay, then fine, but you’re not leaving my sight. I’m not letting anything happen to you. Not again.”

* * *

DAVID STARED DOWN at Allsún with resolve in his eyes. He had agreed to let her stay with him, but he still didn’t want her to see the atrocities in the basement. After all she’d been through, she didn’t need something like that seared into her memory.

The buzz of his phone interrupted their argument. She turned away from him as he pulled out his cell. Jace’s name flashed across the screen.

He hit the talk button. “Yeah?”

“So I have something to tell you that you’re not gonna be happy to hear.” Jace delivered the words slowly, as if he wasn’t certain he wanted to say them. “Frankie and I are at the hospital, and...Allsún’s not here.”

David eyed Allsún as she paced anxiously around the foyer. “Yeah, I know, J. She showed up here—at the crime scene.”

A string of profanities sounded from the other line. “And you couldn’t have fucking called to tell me that? Frankie and I were scared shitless that a demon had gotten to her before we did. I’ve been calling you repeatedly.”

“Sorry. She just now showed up.”

“Well, that’s a fucking relief. Aside from that, did you find anything?” Jace asked.

David bit his lower lip. He’d found something, all right. Something not fit for human eyes, something so evil it made his stomach churn and his heart hurt. “Yeah, I found something. I’ll tell you about it at the meeting.”

Silence answered from the other end of the line. David could tell Jace was waiting for an explanation.

“J, I’m sorry, man. I can’t even... This is just so evil. I’ll tell you when I get there.”

The images of what lay one level beneath his boots flashed through his mind. Those poor people.

“I’ll see you at the meeting, then. Get the job done, David. For their sake.”

David nodded. “Yeah.”

With a small click, the line went dead.

Allsún stopped pacing and faced him again, arms crossed over her chest. “So, are you going to tell me what else is down there or keep me in the dark?”

“You don’t want to know what’s down there, Allsún.”

“If I’m going to help you, I—”

He held up a hand. “Who said anything about you helping me?”

With a frown, she pointed to herself. “I did. If you refuse to let me leave your side, then you’re going to let me work the case with you.”

“I can’t let you do that. This is different than usual.”

“How different can it be, David?”

He shook his head. He knew Allsún, and he understood completely why she wanted to be a part of this. Back in the day, she had been amazing at hunting demons. They’d partnered together and had been damn near unstoppable, between her Fae power and his exorcist abilities, but that had been before he was a member of the Execution Underground, before Allsún decided she didn’t want to live a hunter’s lifestyle anymore. “Allsún, the demon massacred this family. You know that’s not typical.”

“It’s not typical for me to have premonitions about upcoming demon activity, either, not since I quit hunting. But somehow, in this case, I did—to the point that it woke me up from a drug-induced coma. That means I’m supposed to be involved somehow. If you were in my position, you’d want to be involved, too.”

She had a point with that one. He would definitely want to be a part of the investigation. Well, “want” was the wrong word. No one wanted to be involved with demons, but they did so because they needed to, because they felt it was their duty. Allsún had given up that duty long ago.

“What happened to ‘It can be somebody else’s job’? You told me that it wasn’t my duty to protect people from demons, despite the fact that I was born with this gift. Now, just because you have a feeling, that means that you’re meant to do this? You’re being a hypocrite.”

“Quit dredging up the past.” Allsún pushed past him and marched down the stairs before he could stop her. When she reached the bottom she turned and surveyed the side of the basement that had been blocked from her view before. David heard her breath escape in one large gasp. Shit.

His bad leg burning at every step, he hurried down the stairs as fast as he could.

As he reached her side, he saw that tears were rolling down her cheeks. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him. Though the sight of her tears made him ache inside, he relished the feel of her in his arms. God, he had missed holding her like this, being this close to her. They stood together for a few moments before she pulled back, wiping vigorously to erase the streaks from her tears.

He cleared his throat. “I told you it was a horror show.”

Horror show. Talk about a massive understatement. The things the demons had done to the humans before their deaths were sick and despicable, twisted. Only pure evil could have been responsible for something like that. Anyone with an ounce, even a shred, of humanity, would have shown at least some mercy.

She looked toward him. The barest quiver still shook her lip. “So, what do we do now?” She was fighting to get hold of herself. He could see her face visibly change as she transitioned into work mode.

She took a deep, steadying breath. “Back when it was me and you, we would have taken the evidence we needed, called the cops and then continued the investigation ourselves, but...you know. Now that you’re part of the Execution Underground and all...”

“Similar protocol,” David said. “We take photos of the crime scene that will be processed and sent off to Headquarters, if necessary, but in the meantime the Rochester division begins the investigation. We need to be quick, though. We’ll take the samples and leave. We don’t want to hang around in case a neighbor heard something and contacted the cops.”

“I doubt they’ve been called, since they haven’t shown up yet.” She lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. “So, once you gather the evidence, then what? Do you take me to your meeting place, too?”

“Yeah, and I debrief the rest of the hunters.”

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “The rest of the hunters? How many of them are there? Jace and you make two, obviously.”

He’d forgotten her bias against hunters. While Allsún was all for hunting demons, her natural enemy, as a supernatural creature herself, she was wary of the Execution Underground and its policies. That was one of the many reasons why she hadn’t wanted him to join. “There are six total, me included.”

Allsún’s eyes widened slightly, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I wasn’t surprised to find out Jace is one of you. I knew you two would eventually find your way on to the same team, or whatever your unit is called. I know he played a part in getting you to enlist.”

“Don’t be bitter toward Jace. It’s not his fault I joined the Execution Underground.”

“He and Frankie are together now, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, they’re together.”

Allsún nodded in return. “Good. I’m glad he’s making her happy. Frankie has been a good friend to me.” She paused, carefully considering her next words. “I don’t feel any resentment toward Jace. It’s been...what? Five years now.”

He opened his mouth to tell her exactly how many years, months and days it had been, but she lifted her hand to silence him. “Don’t give me the exact count. Just get your evidence. I don’t know how much longer I can stand to be here. These poor people.”

He closed his mouth and swallowed down the words he’d been about to say.

David scanned the scene. He wasn’t even sure where to start. As awful as the thoughts would be, he needed to re-create the events in his head. The way in which the demon had carried out the murders might give him some insight into its sick motivations. Part of him felt it would be like reading tea leaves—trying to understand remorseless violence was hardly ever fruitful—but on the off chance that something, anything, might give him a hint that would help him catch this murderous hell-crawler, he needed to do this.

According to the information Father O’Reilly had relayed to Damon, the mother had called, claiming that her husband had been possessed by a demon. David walked over to the corner of the basement where the woman’s body slumped against the wall. The cell phone with the cracked screen lying a few feet from her hand was evidence of the truth of that assumption. The husband had died last. From the knife lying in his hand, it was clear the demon had made the man slit his own throat, then undoubtedly hightailed it in untraceable spirit form to the nearest human it could possess. He would put his bet on one of the family’s poor next-door neighbors being its latest suit of flesh. Thankfully demons never changed hosts unless they had to. The process weakened them and was painful as hell. In a way, they were like a parasite that grew attached to its host, never wanting to let go.

Knowing the way the parents had died was helpful, but in what order had the children been killed, and was there any significance to that? And why this specific family?

His eyes darted from the disgusting atrocity on the other side of the basement to the teenage boy spilled across the floor. From the things that had been done to the infant, he could tell that she had been the demon’s main focus. The innocence of the child was clearly an important part of the demon’s plan. What else could draw a demon to a child that way? He stood and crossed the room, though it took everything he had in him not to toss the remaining contents of his stomach into the garbage bin again. In fact, he would need to find a way to dispose of that evidence so he didn’t leave his DNA at the crime scene.

Eyeing the surrounding area, he paused when a glimpse of red caught his gaze. A small spot of blood on the edge of a nearby chair. He moved closer to examine it. A small clump of blond hair was caught in the clotting fluid. Yes, this was what he was looking for. The mother was the only blond in the family, but she was several strides away. Crossing the room again, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. No gashes on her forehead, but no one else was blond. He quickly wrapped the fabric around his hand before slowly tilting her head, which fell forward with an awful flop in the way only dead weight can. He tried to ignore the anger he felt on her behalf and focus on the situation at hand.

Leaning forward, he examined the back of her head until—bingo. A bloodied gash on the back of her skull confirmed what he had suspected. Like any mother would instinctually do, she had tried to save her child. The horror of the scene flashed before his eyes. That poor woman, witnessing her husband doing those awful things to her sweet baby girl. The thought made him sick with pain for her, and he all too vividly imagined the sounds of her uncontrollable screams at the sight of her husband hurting her child. She would have tried to save her baby, but with its supernatural strength, the demon had undoubtedly shoved her away with ease, causing her to fall back and hit her head on the chair. But why not just kill her then, when she was trying to interfere? Her body and phone were on the other side of the room, with no smears of blood across the carpet leading to her to indicate she had died elsewhere and her body had been moved, so clearly the demon had chosen not to kill her right away? Why leave her alive?

Because the demon had wanted her to see....

The pieces of the puzzle fell together in his mind as he played his theory out step by step. But another question nagged at the back of his mind: Why had the woman thought her husband was possessed? Undoubtedly she hadn’t wanted to think her husband was capable of such atrocious violence, but she had been so specific. She hadn’t said he had gone mad or crazy. She’d said he was possessed, which meant the demon had done something to give away its identity. It wouldn’t have shown its demonic red eyes unless she’d somehow managed to hurt it, which she wouldn’t have been able to do unless she had holy water or a blessed relic at hand, which didn’t seem likely, even though the family had been religious.

He thought back to all the crappy B-movies he had seen over the years, which had portrayed demons in some of the most absurd ways and most likely would have been the extent of this woman’s knowledge of the demonic. What could the creature have done that would have...

The thought clicked into place. Latin. The demon must have been speaking Latin or some other dead language her husband wouldn’t have known. That was one thing the films got right, and if the demon had been speaking Latin, that meant it had performed some sort of demonic ritual. That explained the desecrated state of the infant’s body. The horror of the situation hit David like a punch straight to the balls.

The point of the demon’s ritual hadn’t been spilling blood, it had been creating fear. The demon had forced the mother—and the father, while he was possessed and unable to control his body—to watch the deaths of their two children so it could feed off their fear.

David shoved his anger down inside, balling it up in a way he was certain would kill him one of these days. He needed to remain focused. He had already taken photos of the crime scene. Now he needed samples to send off to the lab. If he could find some trace of sulfur the monster had left behind, forensics could analyze it and give him some idea of what type of demon fucker he would be torturing. He made quick work of taking the samples. After pulling the small lab kit from inside his leather jacket, he swabbed the victims’ wounds and underneath their fingernails, and took samples of their hair, anything that could give him insight.