Whisper of Spirits (FSID Agents Book 1), page 10
“You don’t have to sit in the back, Ry, you can take the passenger seat.” Her voice went up with surprise.
“Kitten, get in the seat,” I smiled down at her, a small chuckle following at her reaction. Her pale face broke into a wide smile as she continued into the car, the large front seat dwarfing her small stature. I closed the door and climbed into the seat behind her. The clicks of seat belts buckling filled the air before Mason started the car, a rock station filtering through the radio. The drive to the morgue was spent in a companionable silence.
9
December 30th
Sunday Midday
Casper
The door leading to the morgue opened silently, and the warmth from the interior of the building billowed out curbing some of my shivering. Hopefully the most recent dose of medicine will kick in soon, I grumbled. The front desk officer nodded at us as he jotted down our names on the intake log and checked Mason’s and Ryan’s identification. After getting the directions to the locker housing Gemma’s body, we headed down the hall, our footsteps echoing on the white flecked tile as we passed the different offices toward the main area of the morgue. The morgue was out of the city in the county coroner’s building, and now that it was nearing lunchtime, the halls were quiet instead of bustling with employees.
We reached the main room and headed back to the body locker that Gemma was in. She had been cleaned, her hair no longer coated with mud, the white sheet covering her up to her shoulders. I took a seat in one of the rolling metal stools as Mason flipped through the reports Dr. Vernin and Dr. Patel created. Ryan looked over the body after he slid on a pair of fresh gloves. I didn’t have any medical experience, so I kept my ass planted in my seat, fighting the occasional shiver from chills that just wouldn’t seem to go away. Mason and Ryan conferred over the reports and what Ryan was seeing. They can give me the cliff notes when they’re done.
Thirty minutes later, Ryan slid Gemma’s body back into the locker as Mason placed the file back into its proper home in the filing cabinet. I hopped off the stool and stretched my cramping legs before shuffling over to the door to meet them. We exited the main morgue in silence, signing out with the same officer at the front desk,
“Anything interesting come from your inspection?” I asked them, dipping my head toward Ryan in thanks for holding open the passenger door for me.
“Autopsy confirms blood loss as cause of death; the perpetrator nicked enough major arteries and internal organs in the upper abdomen that they passed relatively quickly,” Ryan informed me, his seat belt clicking into place.
“The friction burns weren’t caused by rope or any other type of physical restraint. No fibers or material were found in the skin, so I would have to say there was a spell holding them in place,” Mason added, turning out onto the main road to head back into town.
“The weapon used to cut the torso was a smooth and sharp knife, no jagged tears or other trauma to the cut. The only thing with the cut is that it is pretty wobbly, meaning the person who did this couldn’t cut the torso straight down,” Ryan took back over in the explanation from Mason in a seamless transition.
“So, it could easily be an athame?” I asked. “If this is a witch or warlock, that’s likely the weapon they would use. Based on the fact that athames are smooth-bladed knives and information we learned from both victims about the supe family history, we’re leaning more and more toward the culprit being a supe.” Turning in my seat to be able to see both Mason and Ryan, I gauged their reactions to my conclusion. Ryan’s blond hair shook as he nodded at me. “Do we know what would be needed for that kind of restraining spell?” They both shook their heads no, so I dug out my phone from my jacket pocket. An answer came two rings after I hit dial.
“Hey Muñeca,” Flynn’s deep voice took over for the ringing.
A smile crept up my face at the nickname, happiness seeping into me, and for a second I wondered if they were feeling what I was feeling too. I’m not very good at noticing these kinds of things, I thought.
“Hey Flynn, got a question for you. You busy?”
“Shoot, we’re heading back to the station with Sergeant McIntyre.” I heard a honeyed voice in the background.
“Is that Spitfire? Let me talk to her,” Knox called out, followed by a thud and several shuffles before I heard Flynn again.
“No, text her, she needs help with the cases.” Another thud was joined by Knox’s soft muttered curses in the background. “All right, Cas, what was the question?” I had to control my laughter before I could answer.
“What would be needed for a restraint spell?” I stared past Mason’s barreled chest to the passing scenery without really seeing it, focusing on what Flynn had to say.
“Just a small amount of rope or other type of bondage and a piece of DNA from the person to be tied down, like a couple of strands of hair or a few drops of blood. The caster would place or rub the DNA in the center of the rope, then knot the material while reciting the spell. To reverse it, they would need to recite the counterspell while untying or breaking the knot,” he rattled off, his voice steady as if reading off a page.
“Thanks, Flynn,” I told him softly. “We’re heading back to the station too, should be back in fifteen minutes. See you shortly?” The end of my statement rose up like a question. Something about these men just throws me a bit off my game. A hummed affirmative and a warm goodbye followed my unintended question. I stuffed my phone back into my jacket and relayed what he had told me.
Ryan was quiet for a few moments before his face scrunched up in thought. Working through it out loud, he said, “So, that’s another thing we can look into at the crime scenes. I’ll ask McIntyre to let me know if they have anything like that in evidence. We can also swing by the most recent scene and do a canvas to see if it’s there after we talk to the family. I’ll see if there’s a few officers or detectives who can accompany us.” He nodded his head absently. He trailed off and we continued the drive in silence, pulling into the station right as Knox and Flynn were stepping out of McIntyre’s car. They were waiting in front of the vehicle for us to park and file out of the SUV.
“Hey, Spitfire.” Knox’s smile was wide as he looked over at me.
“So, did I hear right? You were attempting to take the phone from Flynn on the ride over here?” I teased, and Knox’s smile grew wider.
“Yes, I did,” he admitted proudly, puffing his chest out.
“How did that work out for you?” We continued to stand in the parking lot, a small circle in front of McIntyre’s car. He had headed inside immediately after getting here, so we had a few moments of privacy.
“I got smacked upside the head.” Knox’s voice was still proud, and I burst out laughing as the rest of the guys chuckled at his admission. His playfulness balanced out Mason’s broody behavior, while Flynn’s silent stoicism was a perfect contrast to Ryan’s friendly smile and warm gaze.
I could get used to their odd dynamic, I thought, feeling at home as my attention darted between them with a smile. I’m not sure how I’d feel if there were just one or two of them as a team, but they’re kind of irresistible when they’re all together.
“You two are children,” Mason cut in shaking his head, but a small smile contradicted his stern voice. “Anything new determined from the scene or interview?”
“Nothing that we didn’t already know. We playing pass the Cas now, or are we heading inside?” Knox chuckled at his own joke, looking between us. I didn’t have anything I needed to do inside, so I shrugged at Mason and Ryan.
“We can pass the Cas now, that way you can hopefully avoid traffic on your way back,” Ryan suggested logically. “Grab something to eat, we haven’t gotten a chance.” He directed his order at me, but the explanation to his other teammates.
I dipped my head in acknowledgment when he looked to me. It’s sweet that they’re so concerned about me, especially since we haven’t known each other for more than a couple days. Maybe Ric actually has a point about letting people in, but they’re leaving soon, so should I really dive into this? I wondered, almost surprised at how much the question hurt.
“You got it, bossy.” I shot a cheeky smile at him. A round of chuckles went up around the team before Knox and Flynn started walking, curving around Mason and Ryan toward the SUV. I gave a quick goodbye before following them. Knox got into the driver’s seat as Flynn settled into the back seat, one of them having already opened the passenger door for me. I rolled my eyes as I slid in. “You do know I am fine sitting in the back, right?”
“Yes, but you’re sitting up front. Besides, the only two who sit up front are me and Mason since we’re the only two who like to drive. The others have their seats in the back that they’ve claimed as their own,” Knox replied, pulling out of the station parking lot when I had finally clicked my seatbelt. Mason and Ryan had already headed in as we passed the front doors.
“So,” I started, curving in my seat so I could look at Knox in the driver’s seat and Flynn sitting behind him. Leaning slightly forward, I rested my knee on the console to get comfortable while we all talked. “How long have you guys been a team? Did you meet in FSID, or did you guys know each other beforehand?”
“We’ve been a team for about 5 years. We met in training for FSID, and I was twenty-one at the time,” Knox supplied. “Although, Ryan and Mason had known each other for years before joining. Being on the same team was one of their stipulations when they applied. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but they’re actually together, at least intermittently when we aren’t working.”
That might explain why there’s a bit of a different vibe between the two of them with all the lack of personal space and heated stares I’ve noticed out of the corner of my eye. And let’s not forget the conversation at the scene this morning.
“So, did you guys work together during training to, you know, build morale or bonds or some shit, or did they just toss you all together at the end?” My head tilted as I appraised the handsome angel next to me, and Flynn was quiet, per usual, as he listened to the conversation.
Knox’s right shoulder raised and then lowered in a mindless shrug. “We did the classroom training on our own, some of the field training was alone too, but overall we did it together as a team. They had taken powers into consideration when they made up the teams, and we fit together well with a good range of powers among us.”
“So, what are your powers if you don’t mind me asking?” I couldn’t stop the bubble of excitement that built at learning more about them.
“Well, you already heard about Ryan’s,” Knox started. “He has intuition, healing, and he’s a walking lie detector. Mason’s got the typical powers of an alpha shifter with enhanced senses and reflexes. He’s very good at fighting too, but we’ve never been able to decide if that’s an additional power or because of the reflexes.”
“Being a street cop before joining probably helped,” Flynn pointed out.
Regular ol’ cop you say? I struggled to wrap my head around that after seeing how well he didn’t play with others.
“I’m just a typical warlock, so my powers include spell casting and potion brewing, but I also have shadow manipulation, walking, and whispering. Granted, the whispering has a pretty strict time limit to when they can tell me anything,” Flynn added.
My jaw dropped. Not only because that was the most he had said at one time, but being able to talk to shadows, manipulating them, and walking from one shadow to the next was very rare. He chuckled as my mind tried to wrap around what he had explained.
“It’s not much different than being able to talk to ghosts,” Knox said with a tiny grin.
I rolled my eyes. Being able to talk to spirits is completely different than talking to an actual shadow, like the dark patch the sun causes when it hits something. It’s hard to remember those inanimate things are actual creatures to someone who can talk to them.
“What about you, then?” I asked Knox. “I know you have wings.”
“Telepathic,” he explained simply, “and I’m not so bad with a sword either.”
“Not bad is an understatement,” Flynn mumbled with a laugh. “He can deflect a bullet with one.”
“Holy shit!” My eyes widened as I took him in. He chuckled slightly, a hint of embarrassment lacing his laugh, and his right hand left the steering wheel as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Aw, he’s adorable.
“What about you?” Knox redirected the conversation, coughing slightly to clear his throat. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling at the cuteness of him being shy. “Have any other powers?”
“Nope, psychometry and being a medium is about as supernatural as I get,” I explained. Absently, I noticed Ric’s signature tug, a slight tingle spreading across my skin as he pulled energy from me. What are you doing, Ric? I questioned, glancing around and not seeing him. Hopefully not causing trouble.
“How does that work, exactly? The touch magic, I mean, like do you get an imprint from everything? Say I hand you a folder of information I compiled, would you get something from that?” It was Knox’s turn to pepper me with questions which pulled me from my inspection of the car, his voice excited as he glanced over at me before refocusing on the road.
“Unless you were having a really, really emotional moment when you picked up the folder or papers from the printer, no. And when I say emotional moment, I mean big, as in suffering from a loss or PTSD flashback kind of moment.”
“So day to day things are good,” Knox summarized. “What about people? Do you see imprints from them?” I shuddered at the thought.
“Hell no. I mean, yes, I can, but I’ve trained my mind enough when it comes to human and supe contact to the point I don’t get anything from them.”
“Ah, that’s smart,” Knox agreed with a nod. Flynn listened silently from the backseat, his attention focused solely on me, trying to learn everything about me. Just like I was trying to do to them.
“Do all teams have 4 members?” I continued my questioning, not wanting to talk about me. They were the interesting ones, and my curiosity was burning with the urge to learn everything.
“Some are just pairs, some are 5 members, but there’s only one team I know that has 6. They’re built for SWAT or other emergency situations specifically, not for investigations. I mean, we’re all trained in that, but usually they’re kept smaller. It better splits up resources, so they can have lots of teams investigating when necessary. You know, you have a lot of questions on how the FSID works. You looking to apply?” His milk chocolate skin quirked as his lips curled, and he side eyed me.
Am I interested in FSID? I hadn’t given it much thought.
“I don’t know honestly.” I shrugged, looking out the front of the car and studying the cars keeping pace with us. “It would be nice to be in a team, I guess. I’ve only ever had Ric. Well, I guess that’s not true...” I swallowed hard, chickening out before I could tell them about Jasper. “I have Markus and McIntyre, the other officers too. But no set partners. Hell, I don’t even know if I’d work well with a team or not,” I said with a chuckle.
“You’ve worked well with us,” Flynn pointed out from the backseat. He heaved himself forward so he was leaning his forearm on Knox’s seat. “You could come work with us after this case is over.” His deep brown eyes glimmered in the sunlight peeking out from the dreary clouds.
“Right,” I drew the word out. “I doubt Mason and I could even be in the same room for more than an hour let alone work on the same team,” I scoffed, but despite my protests, I realized it didn’t sound bad. Hell, if I was honest with myself, I actually liked the idea.
“He was only so difficult that first little bit because he hates change, and you, Spitfire, are the definition of change. Doesn’t help that you also remind him of himself.” Knox’s honeyed laugh filled the car, underlined with Flynn’s deep chuckle.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that last one, dude.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Why would you want me on the team? You barely know me; I barely know you!” My voice went up an octave as I reached the end of my statement, betraying some of the confusing emotions that were hitting me at the moment.
“Tell us something about yourself then?” Knox challenged, a black eyebrow rising on his forehead. I reared my head back at him.
“Nu huh, you tell me something first. Both of you!” I pointed at them, my narrowed eyes bouncing between them. Apparently, it was funny because they both burst out laughing.
“I have two brothers and one sister,” Knox supplied, his admission short and to the point.
Without hesitating, Flynn followed up with, “I helped my grandparents at their store before I joined FSID.”
How sweet, I thought.
“Oh! Tell me about that?” I leaned my head on the seat of my chair, watching him shift in his seat, his leather jacket creaking as he settled.
“They run a small grocery store in a tiny town no one has probably heard of.” He smiled at me, his white teeth bright against the dark shadow of his stubble. My heart warmed at the thought of him working in a small mom and pop store.
“That’s sweet, Flynn.” I felt my lips curl in a smile as I eyed him, a new appreciation bubbling in my chest for the quietest of the agents.
“Your turn, Spitfire,” Knox cut off anything Flynn was going to say, his words rushed and excited.
“I like to dance. I mean, dancing other than Taraneh,” I admitted quietly, not wanting to talk about myself. Their eyebrows creeped up.
“Really?” Knox’s voice was pitched in surprise.
“Yeah. I haven’t in years though.” My voice was steady despite the tightness spreading through my chest. Well, this might have been the wrong fact to start with.
“Why not? I’d love to see you dance; you were beautiful at Spirit’s.” Flynn’s whisper curled to the front seat, my cheeks heating at the unexpected compliment.
