Burn the Night, page 2
With a click on the podium, the screen behind the director lit up, revealing a virtual case board.
"Victim one, Tara Dewitt, twenty-two, a grade school teacher. Her car was still at the school, indicating she'd been abducted from there and her body dumped in an alley. Not hidden, so the perp wasn't too bothered with her being found. Victim two, Brad Headley, twenty-five, an accountant. His car was found in the parking lot of a supermarket. Video surveillance shows him paying for his groceries and leaving the building, carrying two bags. His body was found in a dumpster, no sign of the groceries. Victim three, Kimberley Shay, seventeen, unemployed. She'd just finished school and was taking a gap year. Her last movements have been difficult to track. We're still trying to nail down who saw her last and where. And again, she was found in an alley next to a dumpster."
I leaned forward, focusing on the photo of the last victim, Allena Niles.
"Niles’s body was found in a disused warehouse at the old end of the docks. Her injuries are the same, but the dumping of her body has gone against the pattern."
The director was silent for a moment, letting us take in and ponder this latest piece of information. Why the different location for the body dump? I raised my hand.
"Black?" The director indicated I could speak.
"Who found the body?"
"Couple of kids playing at the docks. Found an unlocked side door and decided to explore. Scared themselves shitless at what they found. The Guardians were first responders and have secured the scene. Their report is available with the rest of the case file." She indicated the electronic data displaying on the wall behind her. "This case is a priority, people. We're going to have the Redmeadows PD, and god knows who else breathing down our necks on this one." She looked out over the group of SIA Agents in front of her, considering.
"Carter and Black, I want you two focusing on our latest victim. Trace her movements and get down to the morgue. We need autopsy results ASAP. McConnell and Richards, to the warehouse, see if the Guardians have missed anything. Augustine and Darabi, find the connection between the victims. We need to stop whatever 'this' is before we have humans swarming the place, holding us up. Get to it."
Back at my desk, I swiped my hand across my screen, enlarging the image of the dead woman. Her body was twisted and contorted in a non-human way; her face screwed up in a picture of agony. I hurt just looking at her. It was as if she was partway through a change, and it all went horribly wrong. I wasn’t a werewolf, so I'd never experienced the change, but Carter was, and he told me it was excruciating, to begin with. All the bones in your body broke and re-set as your body transformed into your wolf. The whole process took around five minutes for newer wolves, and the older you got, the faster the change. You also couldn’t control when you changed. Unless you were Alpha. Alphas could change at will, the rest of the pack only at a full moon. And full moon wasn't for another couple of days.
I leaned to the right, peering around my screen to catch Carter's eye opposite me.
"Coming?"
"Definitely." He wrinkled his nose as he rose. I knew he didn't like visiting the morgue, that the scents were overwhelming for his sensitive nose.
Pulling on my Kevlar jacket, I zipped it to my chin. Kevlar suits were standard issue in the SIA, and I was grateful for the added protection. Dealing with vampires and werewolves could turn into a bloody business, and I didn't favor having my skin ripped open. Kevlar prevented that. It was also an extra incentive to keep in shape. The pants were much like yoga pants, skin-tight and molding every curve. The jacket also hugged my body, allowing freedom of movement without restriction, the zip running from my waist right up to my chin to protect my neck, the sleeves long enough to loop over my thumbs and protect my wrists. A utility belt slung around my hips, an extra band around my thigh to hold my gun holster in place. Steel-capped knee-high boots and a comms unit around my wrist completed the uniform.
I looked across at Carter, who'd just finished strapping his own gun in place. The male uniform consisted of Kevlar combat pants, boots, and a jacket similar to mine. I pulled on my cap, pulling my ponytail through the loop at the back to swing down my back. I couldn't help a grin. Together we looked pretty bad-ass, all in black, a red SIA badge clipped to our belts and printed on our hats.
The morgue was housed in the SIA Science and Medical Facility across town. Supernaturals rarely needed medical assistance, but every now and then, they did, and laws had been passed that humans were forbidden to treat us. I fell into the supernatural category even though no one knew what I was—including me. I'd had to submit to medical testing when I applied to join SIA. According to blood test results, I had one hundred percent human DNA. Yet, I could freeze everyone around me within a twenty-foot radius with a flick of my hand. It was a nifty trick, being able to hold someone in place, unable to move. I didn’t know how I did it. I just did. And I didn’t understand why, even though paralyzed, they still breathed, but they did. Sometimes I froze 'em up so hard they couldn’t speak, but mostly I just hampered movement. And because of that particular talent, I'd been classified as supernatural, species undetermined.
Initially, they thought I was a witch, but even witches couldn’t do what I could, and I didn’t need to cast a circle or spell, so I was pretty sure I was not a witch. I could feel their magic, though, and I liked it, which was why I lived on the edge of Witches Quarter, where their magic wrapped around me, comforting, warm. Some speculated that I was a cross between breeds. Yet, I exhibited no werewolf traits, nor vampire traits, let alone shifter or ghoul. I'm an anomaly.
Snagging a set of car keys from the board and clocking us out, I stepped into the elevator behind Carter. Rather than going down, we went up. SIA offices were six stories below ground, and each floor housed different ranks of the SIA. Level six, the furthermost down, was our holding cells. Level five was the Guardians—think corporals in human terms, officers who'd completed their training and were fresh into the agency. Level four was the Enforcers—think detective in human terms. Carter and I were Enforcers. Level three is the executive floor where the SIA Director had offices, plus IT and payroll and finance staff. Level two is the Protectors—think sergeant. How good you were determined how quickly you got promoted up the ranks. Then on level one were the Cadets and training facility. The lift opened into the basement of a high-rise car park. Twelve stories of car parking above us, six stories of Supernatural Investigation Agency below.
I climbed into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life with a throaty growl, and I had to admit, I liked driving the beast. It was big and heavy and drove like an angel. I flipped on the lights and eased us out of the parking lot. Three in the morning meant little traffic in downtown Redmeadows. We'd make it to the Science and Medical Facility in ten minutes with no traffic snarls to slow us down.
Redmeadows was dissected by the Amuletic River, a massive river running nearly two thousand miles long that passed through Redmeadows on its way to the ocean some hundred and twenty-five miles further north. Along one side of the river were mountain ranges, and Redmeadows had been settled at the foot of the mountains in the eighteen hundreds. The SIA Science and Medical Facility was squeezed in between the docks and Wolf Hill. The SIA didn't require much land as most of their buildings expanded underground, and the Science and Medical Facility was no different. A one-story building, with the ground floor housing a reception and waiting area along with half a dozen private meeting rooms. The facility's science lab, medical wing, and morgue were below ground.
Pulling up in the open parking lot, I killed the engine and stepped out. Carter was talking on his comms unit to his mom, who was doing the “mom” thing and trying to set him up with a nice wolf girl. He was deflecting. I watched as he scrubbed at his face in annoyance. One thing I'd learned about wolves: they seemed obsessed with reproduction. A lot of pressure came from their pack to settle down and start producing pups as quickly as possible. I didn't understand it; their species was not in danger of becoming extinct. Carter had tried to explain to me that pregnancies were difficult and dangerous. Often the mother or baby, sometimes both, didn't survive. I still didn't get it. If it was so dangerous, why were they so keen to pursue having kids? I shrugged, some species I'd never understand.
"Look, Mom, I gotta go. I'm on a case." He disconnected the call and looked over at me with a sheepish shrug. I wished I could sympathize, but having no parents meant I had no one trying to set me up. Or look out for me. Or love me.
"Let's go."
The morgue smelled like disinfectant and death. A young geeky-looking guy logged us in. I tried to sniff the air like I'd seen Carter do to ascertain what he was, but I got nothing.
"Shifter," Carter muttered to me. I glanced at him to find him studying me intently. I nodded. Right. Shifter.
"So here she is. Allena Niles. Nineteen. Student at Redmeadows University, studying medicine."
The shifter pulled the metal tray out of the cold storage and onto the examination table, Allena's body covered by a white sheet.
"May I?" Hand raised to pull back the sheet, I looked at the shifter.
"Of course." He flicked on the overhead lamp, so I had better light. Snapping on a pair of latex gloves, I pulled the sheet down to just below Allena's shoulders. I sucked in a breath. The poor girl. Her face was terribly distorted. It looked like she had half a snout, her nose, mouth, and jaw protruding forward about four inches from where they should have been. Her cheekbones were snapped; you could clearly see the two pieces of bone beneath her translucent skin. Skin so paper-thin I could see her veins and muscles underneath. Her forehead sloped back, and I imagined she would have transitioned into a wolf, given the whole snout and forehead thing.
I ran my eyes down her neck, which looked pretty normal, to her shoulders, which weren't. Her collarbones were broken, jutting forward and cutting through her skin. Both of her shoulders appeared dislocated, with the balls of each joint sitting in front of each shoulder. Carefully I removed one arm and examined it. They looked pretty normal, too, except for her fingers, which were again broken, and her nails looked like they could have been transforming into claws. I examined her other arm, pausing when I got to her hand.
"Look at this." I motioned to Carter, who stepped forward.
There was a faint mark on the back of the girl's hand.
"Is that a—?" Carter frowned.
"I think it might be." I nodded, looking at the lab tech who'd moved forward as well. He handed me an ultraviolet light and killed the main lights. As soon as the ultraviolet light hit the girl’s skin, the marking became crystal clear.
"Crimson Mist?"
"That vamp nightclub in Mistlyn, on the other side of the river," Carter explained.
"Did the other victims have this stamp?" I asked the lab tech.
"Couldn't say. The skin on their hands was too degenerated. I can run some tests, see if I can find any ink trace."
"Do that. Let us know immediately if you find anything."
Chapter Four
We had a lead. That was more than what we had with our other victims. The first three were found dumped in various locations around town. Nothing tied them together, except for the horrific way they had died.
"So, our victim number three, Kimberley Shay, was last seen leaving her waitressing job from The Witches Brew, that restaurant in the Bell District."
I nodded. "I know it. I've been there often." The Witches Brew was within walking distance of my apartment. The Bell District was one of Redmeadows tourist haunts, full of art galleries, restaurants, and bars. A colorful district that attracted locals and visitors alike.
"What time did she leave work?"
"Ten p.m. Plenty of time to hit a nightclub after work."
"Next?" I prompted.
Carter checked the screen he'd activated from the dash, linking us to the central database, "Tara Dewitt. Twenty-two. Last seen at the school where she teaches eight-year-olds. Her car was still in the parking lot. Either she was snatched there, or someone picked her up, and she left her car at work. Doesn't make sense, though. If you're going out and don't want to drive, you'd take your car home first."
"Agreed. Next?"
"Brad Headley. Twenty-five-year-old accountant. He was last seen leaving the office, but his car was found in the supermarket car park.
"Video surveillance from the supermarket shows him shopping, paying for his purchases, and walking out the door. Cameras don't extend to the car park." Carter continued.
"And his groceries weren't found?"
"Nope. Footage shows him walking out with two bags. Neither he nor the bags were seen again."
"Back to Allena, our latest vic. So she was what...nineteen? Twenty? Uni student?" I tried to recall what I'd read when the case had first hit my screen.
"Nineteen. Studying medicine at Redmeadows Uni. Once we get back to the office, I'll start tracking her last known movements. That stamp could be a couple of days old."
We lapsed into silence for the rest of the drive back to HQ. I pondered the change in body dump location. I was pretty confident our latest victim had been dumped as well, just like the others. It was doubtful the Guardians’ report would tell me much, other than she'd died elsewhere and her body had been moved. But why the disused warehouse? So far, the perp hadn't gone to a lot of trouble to hide the bodies, seeming unconcerned that they'd been found. But a warehouse that no one used anymore? The chances of anyone finding her, at least for quite some time, were slim. Why? And more importantly, how? How was the perp forcing changes on what appear to be full-blood humans? The blood work from the autopsies had come back containing multiple DNA. Had there been contamination during or after the death? I couldn't point the finger at the vamps or werewolves, as the changes were a combination of both. Wolf snouts with vampire fangs. Wolf body with no fur but pale white skin. It just didn't make sense.
Back at my desk, I shrugged out of my Kevlar jacket, hanging it on the back of my chair. Removing my pyre-gun, I dropped it into the top drawer of my desk, followed by my hat. Stripped down to my Kevlar pants and black tank, I looked more like I was about to go jogging rather than an SIA agent. My hair was coming unraveled from my ponytail, so I pulled the elastic out, shaking out the long strands of black hair.
I heard Carter's sharp intake of breath. Knew that letting my hair loose had sent my scent flying in his direction. A scent he'd told me on more than one occasion drove him wild.
"Raven," he growled, his body deathly still as he watched me. Slowly I eased into my chair, feigning a casualness I didn't feel. I wasn't in danger; he wasn't about to leap across the desk and tear my throat out. He was more likely to leap across the desk and ravage me in a whole different way.
"You know," I said in a conversational tone, activating my screen rather than looking at him, "the government officials who invented my last name really did lack imagination. I mean, c'mon. Black? After the nuns had named me Raven? Raven Black. I guess I'm lucky they didn't decide on Raven Raven. Or Raven Doe."
"It works. I like it," Carter muttered, relaxing somewhat as he shrugged out of his own jacket and removed his weapon. I heard his chair squeak as he sat. It's not that I don't find Carter attractive. Hell, I'd have to be dead. He was gorgeous: over six feet of muscled goodness, tanned skin, strong square jaw in a face marred by a scar under his bottom lip and another through his eyebrow, scars that only added to his rugged good looks. His chocolate brown eyes could melt a woman at fifty paces, which was why I didn't meet them now. His wolf wasn't very far beneath the surface. While I wasn't afraid, I was affected by the extra animal magnetism pouring out of him. Leading up to the change, his urges became amplified, and on my list of things not to do was tumble in the sheets with a fellow agent. No matter how sexy and attractive I found him.
"Stop thinking about it," he snapped at me now. "I can practically smell what you're thinking, and it isn't helping."
"Sorry." Geez. Wolves and their senses. I hated this time of the month.
Turning my attention back to my screen, I typed in Crimson Mist Nightclub and clicked the link to the club's official website. Owned by Nate Wilder, managed by Xavier Elizondo. The website didn't reveal much. A listing of guest DJs and events they had coming up. Humans and supernaturals welcome. Beverage listings, including synthetic blood. Crimson Mist was located in Mistlyn, the south side of town and east of the Amuletic River. Mistlyn's old loading docks and cobblestone streets hinted at the former warehouse district’s past, while stylish bars and gleaming lofts pointed to its modernization. Crimson Mist was on the waterfront, one of the converted docks. Prime location. It must have cost a pretty penny.
A report notification appeared in the top right-hand corner of my screen. I bookmarked the Crimson Mist web page and closed the browser, enlarging the incoming report with a swipe of a finger.
"Yep. Just like we thought, Carter. Body dump. Allena Niles was not killed at the warehouse where she was found. Looks like the kids who found her got in the same way as our killer, broken door on the west side of the warehouse. Tire marks right outside."
"Owner is one Nate Wilder." Carter had pulled up the report.
"Hang on. I know that name." Yes. The owner of Crimson Mist. I pulled up the nightclub's website again to double-check.
"Carter!" My voice rose in excitement. "Guess who owns Crimson Mist?"
