Dead Shifter Walking (23 page)

I tilted my head at him. “Why are you
yelling?”

Mercer came from the other side of the Beast.
“The more upset they are, the more they care,” he said before
walking to the house.

I squeezed Jerry’s forearm before he could shake
me again. “Sorry,” I said simply as his lanky arms engulfed me.

“Bad enough I had to hear from Mercer you were
back,” he muttered into my red hair.

“How did you two end up talking?” I asked,
pulling back as we followed the rest into the house.

“With you being out of the picture, Hash hired
me as his SNIPE, supernatural investigator of paranormal events,”
he said shaking his head. “It’s a fancy way of saying I use magic
in order to gain information from the crime scenes.”

I shrugged. “Glad he hired you.”

Jerry scoffed. “Like he had any other choice. I
am the best in the business.”

“Does that mean you are finished carting around
pain in the ass clientele?” I said bumping his shoulder
good-naturedly as we entered the last resting place of Mr.
Davis.

“Nah, this gig ain’t busy enough for me to quit
my day job,” he answered, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

“So where is the dead guy?” Mercer asked,
inhaling. “Doesn’t smell like death.”

“I’ll stay here and guard against return
visitors,” Tate said, although I didn’t believe him for a single
second as he pulled out his phone to make calls.

“It doesn't smell like death yet,” Blake
corrected. “The kill is fresh,” he said, looking at me
intently.

Blowing out a breath, I peered at Jerry, who had
one raised black eyebrow, watching me. “I might have put a tracker
on Steven.”

“The one who tried to kill you?” Mercer asked,
snapping blue gloves over his worn hands.

“Yeah, that one. Anyway, as we were coming into
the community, he was less than a mile away from here,” I said,
wondering if they would come to the same conclusion I had.

Jerry was silent for a few moments as Mercer
handed the rest of us gloves. Finally, Jerry asked, “You think he
is trying to fuck your investigation?”

“No, I think he is playing some part for the
puppet master,” I answered honestly.

He nodded. “Possibly.”

Mercer spoke up, “We will request an alibi for
tonight.”

I nodded as we headed into the home office of
the late Mr. Davis. One shot to the head finished him, no torture,
no undead shifter, possibly a living shifter had done the dirty
work. His dirty blond hair needed a cut and stuck out at odd angles
as his eyes glazed over in death.

Unlike his students, he had died almost
instantly in his plush office, his body still in the leather chair
behind the matching deep red monster of a desk.

The men surrounded the corpse as I wandered into
the library, taking in the fancy book titles. Most of them had to
do with education, literary titles I had never heard of, but,
judging from their leather-bound spines, must have been
expensive.

Stopping short, I scuffed my boot against the
hardwood floor. This book I knew. Pulling it down, I gently ran my
hand over the cover, before reaching to the space where it had
rested, my fingers probing for the secret lever. A click and a hiss
greeted my search as Blake came up to my shoulder. “What you got
there?” he asked, taking the book from my hands.

“Think of it as How to Be a Witch for Dummies,
the ancient version,” I answered, watching the book case slide
backwards, revealing a black abyss my eyes couldn’t see in.

“Who told you about that book?” Jerry asked,
tucking it into his jacket pocket protectively.

“A witch,” I answered simply. The truth was far
more complicated than that.

“That witch still alive?” Mercer asked, joining
us.

“Nope, and I didn’t kill her either,” I answered
before turning to Blake and asking, “Can you see in there?”

He nodded. “Can you?”

I shook my head, interlacing our arms. “Shall
we?” I asked with a smile.

He nodded. Jerry braced his hands on my back,
and I assumed Mercer would work something out.

Darkness pressed around us, as we left the
well-lit office behind. Blake moved slowly and easily down the
darkened corridor.

“Dammit,” Mercer cursed, and I smiled, leaning
closer into the vampire I was developing a fondness for.

Blake pulled me closer, pausing for a moment. I
could hear him flip a switch as the hidden room was showered in
pale ambient light.

“Whoa,” I muttered, taking a step away from
Blake.

“Son of a bitch,” Jerry added behind me.

“Devil worship? You can’t be serious,” Mercer
said, pulling up the rear.

We all turned to level him with an annoyed gaze.
“After all you have learned over the last few weeks, you still
believe this to be the work of a devil?” Jerry asked,
irritated.

“A devil, no, the devil,” Mercer said, growing
confused as he looked around the dimly lit room at the hanging
herbs.

Jerry shook his head, bending down to the
pentagram in red. “Paint, no blood,” he reported. I nodded, blowing
out a breath, taking in the ancient texts, the jars filled with
hard-to-find ingredients such as bats, and the modern laptop
sitting next to a new journal.

“Bingo,” I said, making my way to the journal as
Blake sat down at the laptop.

“So what exactly does this tell us, except for
the fact that the professor liked to dabble in the dark arts?”
Mercer said, holding his hands wide, not daring to move farther
into the space. Peeking at Jerry, I hid a smile behind Blake as
Jerry stood up pointing a gloved finger at the clueless police
officer.

“Dark arts? What is this, a damn video game?”
Jerry asked, eyeballing Mercer

“Fine, what is the politically correct term for
all this nonsense, witch?” Mercer asked, clearly not giving a damn
about upsetting Jerry.

“First of all,” I said, “witch is an outdated
and fairly offensive term, those who are true practitioners of the
old ways prefer Wiccan and mage has been making a comeback.
Secondly, just because there is a pentagram on the ground doesn’t
make this devil worship.” More importantly, most of the
supernatural community doesn’t believe in the existence of a devil
or God, for that matter.”

“Wait, you’re telling me all you sups don’t
believe in God?” Mercer asked, shocked as he moved a clump of thyme
hanging from the ceiling cautiously.

“You have to understand,” Blake said, searching
through the files, “many of us have been alive long enough to watch
humans change, modify, or exploit their religion for personal gain;
not to mention, we were present for the birth of their
religions.”

I scoffed. “It doesn’t take hundreds of years to
see that,” I added, not looking up,

“Granted,” Blake continued, “there are few who
genuinely do good in this world; it doesn’t require a belief in a
higher power.”

“What do you believe in?” Mercer asked Blake,
tapping a glass of newt eyes.

“Don’t ask,” I said, watching him. “Each race
believes in something different, and it’s all hogwash.”

Blake stopped typing to look at me. “Excuse me?”
he said, shocked.

I rolled my eyes at him, ready to answer when
Jerry yelled, “You gotta see this!”

Turning, we crossed the small room quickly to
see the hidden trap door Jerry had discovered beneath the
floorboards.

“What could have him so paranoid that he needed
a hidden compartment in a hidden room?” I asked, looking over
Jerry’s shoulder at the dark wooden box he had just opened.

I was shocked, flabbergasted, and that’s a word
I don’t often use, listening to Jerry read off the complex
experiments and tests used.

“The professor isolated a gene that indicates if
a human would make a superior shifter or vampire?” Mercer asked,
shocked. I forgot I hadn’t included him in Gunner’s earlier
discovery. It didn’t matter; this was a supernatural issue not a
human one.

Mr. Davis’s involvement and death were only
proof humans did not belong in our affairs.

“Yes,” Jerry answered solemnly, “and guess who
his test subjects were?”

“The same families that are now in the morgue,”
I answered, leaning back in the black office chair staring at the
dark wood ceiling. “How did a human stumble upon something we
didn’t even know about?” I asked, turning to Jerry.

He shrugged. “Science,” he answered in one word.
“I assume the answer must be here in his journals.”

Blowing out a breath, I asked, “Is there anyone
not dead on the list?”

Jerry scanned the list. “Yes, twin siblings,” he
said excitedly, looking at me. “I have the address.”

“Let’s go,” Blake said, leading the way back
into the darkness.

Chapter 18

Two dark-haired, dark-skinned teenage girls
stood huddled on their lawn in their matching pink bathrobes as
Mercer explained the situation to their parents.

“Glad I’m not him right now,” Blake
muttered.

Looks of shock passed across their faces. The
mother grabbed quickly for the girls, following her husband to a
police SUV and to safety. The dad was a big man, stood holding open
the door, watching the surroundings; but even his abilities
wouldn’t keep his daughters safe.

I could, though, and I would.

Mercer’s awkward demeanor said it all. The
glances from his fellow police officers told the story well; he was
an outcast for playing with the alleged demon.

“Everything appears normal.” He said

I nodded. “You shouldn’t leave anyone here; if
he shows up, I’ll know.”

Mercer rubbed his stubble on his wide chin.
“Having a backup wouldn’t hurt.”

“If you leave a human here, they will be dead if
the puppet master comes looking for the twins,” I told him,
watching him look over the others here. “It’s your decision.”

Turning to Blake, I said, “I’ve about had enough
fun for tonight.”

He nodded, slinging a lanky arm over my
shoulders, drawing me close as we met Tate at the SUV.

I caught a catnap, sprawled across the back seat
and woke up as we came to a stop. Groaning, I pulled myself into a
seated position, not liking the fact we were at the Centennial
Compound.

Blake opened my door, raising both hands in an
attempt to calm me. I growled.

“We need to make a few phone calls and we could
use the command center to organize everything,” he said, pulling me
out by my arm.

Huffing, I followed him disheveled into the
house. Where before, I was stopped for my weapons, this time, I
just decked the vamp on guard duty and kept walking.

Tate and Blake exchanged glances; not my fault
their security didn’t have a better communication network.

Down in the basement, I asked, “How did the
puppet master know about the kids?”

“We have tech breaking apart the computer now to
see who the list was sent to,” Mal said, typing away.

Resting in the plush couch, I shook my head. “It
must have been a face-to-face meeting; I doubt, with all the
secrecy, he would have just emailed the list over.”

“Whatever, if it’s in there, my guys will find
it,” Mal answered with certainty.

“Do you think this has anything to do with the
attack on Blake’s place?” I asked, resting my exhausted head.”

“No,” Mal said shortly.

She didn’t meet my eyes, but I could tell she
knew something she wasn’t sharing; perfectly fine, I can tell when
I’m not wanted.

“Lovely, if that is all squared away, I’m going
to check with Logan on Steven’s alibi,” I said merrily turning to
Blake, engrossed in a computer. “I’ll grab a ride with Jerry,” I
said as he looked up for a brief moment smiling.

Calling Jerry, I found him wrapping up at the
professor’s house. “Just call when you’re close,” I said, going
outside to wait. The protestors were fewer and those who still were
there looked terrified as I walked by. Good thing my plan had
worked; otherwise, I’d be killing them.

Twenty minutes later, Jerry pulled up, watching
me warily as I climbed into the SUV, smiling. “What are you so
happy about?”

“Nothing; I just enjoy a good pot stirring,” I
said with a smile. “But don’t worry. I called Logan; he’s expecting
us.”

Jerry put the car into drive. “But does he know
what to expect.”

“I hope not; that would ruin all my fun,” I
answered with an evil grin.

Chapter 19

Logan growled at me from across his lush desk
before answering, “Absolutely not.” His caramel eyes glowed as his
lion beat against his self-control.

I smiled, leaning forward. “I was really hoping
you would say that.”

The three of us lumbered down into the basement
training room; no need to destroy Logan’s office, yet.

“This is asinine,” Jerry informed me, taking a
seat on the metal bleachers of the shifter training room located
under Logan’s current residence.

I smiled wider. “It’s the only way to get the
information I need.”

Jerry looked at me, not believing a word as I
shrugged out of my impressive weapons arsenal. I could have pulled
the whole “council card” on him, but I needed a good fight, and
Logan, without his shirt on, was going to give it to me. I couldn’t
help but wonder what he would taste like under my lips.

Quickly, I shook my head. Were those thoughts
allowed when one was having a “relationship?” I didn’t have a clue,
I had never in my life worried about such silly concepts as
“exclusive.” But I was worried now, worried I may have made a
mistake, worried I would unquestionably ruin things with Blake, and
worried I’d fail the whole damn council.

Besides, I didn’t need that man scenting my
attraction.

I put my game face on as Logan began circling
me. He was all predatory grace in this moment; ruggedly built,
solid muscle, he moved with the agility of the lion pressing
against his skin.