Sin's Dark Caress (19 page)

37

Hunk a Burning Love

M
cManus pulled into the street and his heart sank. Fire engines, police cars, and paramedics blocked the street in front of a blazing inferno.

“We're too late,” Bianca said, voicing what he was thinking.

He pulled the car in beside an empty open ambulance. Debris littered the street; glass shards glinted all over the ground, reflecting the flames from the burning house.

“Looks like it didn't just catch fire, but exploded,” McManus said beside her.

Shell-shocked onlookers stood watching firefighters finally winning the battle against the flames that had already completely gutted the house.

“Hey.” The fire chief walked up to them and placed his hands on his hips. “You can't park there.”

Bianca pulled out her ID. “Dr. Bianca Sin, Forensic Thaumaturgist. This was a residence of interest in a case about possible black thaumaturgists working in this area.”

The chief pushed back his helmet and looked at the fire. “Sorry ma'am, but I doubt you're going to find anything much once we're done here.”

“How did it start?”

“Not sure yet, ma'am. Could be a gas explosion, the way the house went up, but there's no way to tell just yet. And we'll have to wait until the fire is out before we can determine if there are even any fatalities.”

“Do you mind if my assistant and I talk to some of the neighbors?” she asked, handing over her card. “I'll give you any pertinent information we find out.”

“I'd appreciate that Dr. Sin, and as soon as we have any news I'll do the same.” The fire chief half turned, paused with a frown and looked back. “Aren't you Detective McManus from Homicide?”

“Yes,” McManus said, extending his hand to clasp the chief's.

The man nodded. “I did a stint at the Forty-ninth a few years back. You're a long way from your jurisdiction, Detective.”

“Like Dr. Sin said, I'm only here to assist.”

“Okay, but if you need anything, just ask.” The chief walked away and started yelling out orders to his men.

“Let's see if the neighbors saw anything,” she said to McManus. “Maybe they saw something we could use.”

“How about them?” McManus nodded to a group of three women, watching the house burn as they chatted among themselves. One was older, while another had a young child about a year old on her hip.

“Why don't you let me talk to them, and you sound out the firemen about what the scene was like when they arrived.”

“Good call,” he said.

Bianca approached the women. “That's some fire.”

The dark-haired woman in the middle smiled cagily. “You should've been here when it started.”

“Are you a reporter?” asked the older of the three.

“Yes,” Bianca said, going on gut instinct. “I'm a freelancer looking for a real juicy story. You know you could really help me out if you could tell me about the people who lived here.”

The three women exchanged glances, and then the one in the middle, who seemed to be the unspoken leader, held out her hand. “Tally Mason, I live here.” She indicated the house behind them, immediately next to the fire. “Agnes Walker lives on the other side.”

The older of the three shook Bianca's hand.

“And Macy Johnson here lives across the street.”

The young mother swapped the baby to the other hip to shake hands.

Bianca smiled at the infant. “Looks like the firemen got this under control enough to save your houses. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Well,” Tally said, “I was just tackling the weekly wash when I heard this massive ‘bang' and the whole house shook. I thought it was an earthquake or something.”

Macy nodded. “I was putting the baby down upstairs when it happened. I came down to find all my windows smashed, glass everywhere, and the house across the road alight.”

Agnes didn't say anything, just nodded at what the others said.

“So who lived here?” Bianca asked.

Tally looked at the others before answering. “We never really met them. We tried to when they moved in, only the girl wouldn't let us in.”

“The girl?” Bianca asked.

“Yeah, about nineteen or twenty.” Agnes spoke for the first time. “A sweet young blond thing, said she was sorry but her mother wasn't well enough to receive visitors.”

“There were the babies there too,” Tally added.

Agnes nodded. “At least two that I saw, but I swear I could hear more than that crying in the night.”

“And that big black car that used to stop by, only you couldn't see who was in it, as they always parked in the garage before they got out.”

“Yes.” Tally nodded. “I was starting to think we had one of those bloodsuckers living next to us.”

Bianca raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She hated the intolerant term. “So did you ever see this girl's mother?”

“Only as a shadow in the window,” Tally said, and Agnes agreed.

“They have a body,” someone yelled closer to the fire.

All three women craned with ghoulish glee to see. It was too much for Bianca. “Thanks, ladies,” she said.

They ignored her as a firefighter carried a blanket-wrapped bundle from around the side of the ruined house.

As she walked away, McManus joined her. “The fire department thinks it might've been a bomb. They found a body blown into the backyard by the force of the explosion.”

“Let me guess . . . a young girl, blond, about nineteen or twenty,” she said.

He cocked his head and frowned. “The neighbors tell you?”

“She was the only one they saw, but they did hear the crying infants. This was where they kept them. But what happened?”

“Maybe they were tipped off,” McManus said. “Maybe they somehow sensed the scrying.”

“Oh my Goddess, McManus.” A cold hard knot of fear settled in her chest and she grabbed his arm. “Lucinda!”

38

Sacrifice

B
ianca knocked again, more frantically this time. “Please, Luce. Open the door.”

Something wasn't right—McManus could feel it in his gut. “Maybe she's in the kitchen and can't hear.” He squatted before the letter slot and pushed it open with his finger.

A bloody handprint smeared the wall. A hand in the center of a sticky red-black pool lay half hidden in the doorway. His heart sank. They were too late.

“Stand back,” he said, and slammed his shoulder against the door.

“Oh Goddess,” Bianca said with a certain finality. “Luce—”

“What's going on?” A girl's voice said from behind. Two girls with school bags over their shoulders looked at them in confusion. “Aunt Bee? Is that you?”

Shit.
No kid should ever see what was in the house, and neither should a childhood friend. He had to get them all out of here before he went in.

“Sin,” McManus said, taking her arm. “Go and look after the girls, okay?”

He could see the grief in her eyes, but she hid it as she crossed the porch to meet the girls. “Hi, Amy,” she said to the older one, and dropped to one knee in front of the little girl. “You've gotten so big since I saw you last. Do you remember me?”

Hannah shrugged and looked up at Amy. “I think so.”

Amy took the little girl's hand and looked between McManus and Bianca with a worried frown. “You remember Aunt Bianca, Hannah-Bannah, she gave you Pookie-bear for your birthday.”

“Oh yeah.” Hannah's smile lit up, but disappeared when she looked around Bianca at McManus.

“That's a friend of mine, he's a policeman.” Bianca stood up again.

“Where's Lucinda?” Amy said. “The car's here, so she can't be far.”

Smart girl.
“We need to get inside to make sure she's okay. Do you have a key?”

Amy nodded vigorously, tears welling as she unclipped a key ring from her school bag. McManus descended the stairs to take the keys from the girl. He held her hand for a moment. “I want you to be brave and take Hannah over to the neighbors and wait for us there, okay? Can you do that?”

The girl nodded again, and led Hannah back down the path to the front gate. She looked back at them with one uncertain terrified glance before turning left and walking purposefully away from the house.

“Poor kid.” Bianca's voice was hollow. “This happened to her before when her mom died.”

“Stay here,” he said.

She shook her head, her face void of any emotion. “I have to do this.”

“No you don't. Actually, why don't you go and wait with the girls. Keep them calm.”

“I can't,” she whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek.

“Okay, but don't come in until I call you.”

She nodded blankly.

The hand in the doorway belonged to a young man in his early twenties, a bag of groceries spilled on the floor beside his body and his throat opened from ear to ear.
All too familiar.

It took a moment for McManus's eyes to adjust to the dim candlelit living room where Lucinda had performed the scrying. When they did, he wanted to close them and block it all out. Lucinda had been so full of life a couple of hours earlier. Now she lay with clouded eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The colorful dots on the scrying map under her were obscured by the Dark Brethren symbol painted in blood.

“Luce!” Bianca said softly behind him, and he turned to find her staring at her dead friend's body.

“I told you to wait outside.” He wrapped his arms around her, trying to shield her from the scene. “You don't need to see that,” he whispered against her hair.

“Oh Luce,” she whispered again, and balled his coat in her fists.

Bianca trembled as the shock set in. He pulled her face into his shoulder and led her from the room, carefully trying to avoid the blood and other evidence spread over the floor. She felt like a rag doll in his arms, as he sat her down on the step. She stared ahead with a silent glassy look, which scared him even more than if she screamed hysterically.

He sat down next her and pulled her cold shaking hands into his, but she didn't seemed to notice. “Are you okay?”

Stupid question.

Finally, she turned to him. “No.” A single teardrop slid down her cheek. “No I'm not.”

McManus wiped the tear away with his knuckle.

“She was my friend. My best friend—” Her voice hitched in her throat. “And now she's . . .”

“Gone,” McManus finished for her; he just couldn't bear to hear her say
dead
.

She nodded. More tears escaped. Then she stiffened against him. “They picked the wrong one this time.”

She looked him in the eye, her eyes steeling as she swiped away her tears. “I don't care what it takes, I'll do anything now to find them and make them pay for this.
Anything.
”

39

Home Sweet Home

M
cManus reached for the keys in her hands. “Here let me.”

“I'm okay, really,” she said.

“I know. But let me do it anyway.”

Vincent and Kedrax sat just inside the door, waiting. The dragon was now as big as the cat. His growth rate was amazing.

“I sensed something was wrong,” she heard Kedrax say through her numbness.

McManus led her inside. Kedrax jumped up onto the arm of the sofa as she fell into the seat. McManus sat and turned sideways toward her, one hand resting along the back of sofa and the other on her knee.

“Her friend was murdered today,” he said.

It took her a moment to realize he was actually talking to the dragon. Wonders would never cease. Kedrax jumped into her lap, placed his front paws on her chest and rubbed the top of his head on her chin. Vincent rubbed against her shoulder.

She wanted to cry, ached to even, yet now the tears wouldn't come. “Stop treating me like I'm made of glass,” she said in frustration. “You're as bad as my mother.”

“She cares about you, that's all.” McManus pulled her into his arms. “It was good of her to take Lucinda's girls home with her.”

“Luce was family. And it's only until they can get in touch with Ursula. Though I still find it hard to imagine that woman bringing up a teenager and a young girl.”

As comfortable as she felt in his arms, she placed her hand against his chest and pushed him away. “I'm fine, really. You don't need to babysit me.”

“I don't think you should be alone,” he said.

“Do I look alone?” she asked, stroking Vincent's head.

McManus's face set with determination. “I'm not leaving, Sin, deal with it. You need to talk about this.”

She shook her head. “No I don't.”
That's the last thing I want.

“Tell me about Luce,” he said gently.

She sighed. “You really aren't going to leave me alone, are you?”

He shook his head.

“Can I at least have a shower?” she asked.

“That's a good idea, I'll make some coffee.”

B
ianca woke and stared at the ceiling. A numb ache filled her. Where was the grief, the devastation? Why wouldn't the tears come? Instead, she felt this big empty nothingness. Like someone had come along and sucked out all her emotions.

McManus had been gentle and attentive. He'd listened all night to her talk about growing up with Luce, until she left him on the sofa around dawn to come to bed. She'd almost been tempted to invite him to join her. If only to make her feel something for a little while. In the end she couldn't use him like that.

Her cell phone rang beside her bed. Her mother's ring tone. She didn't want to speak with anyone right now, especially not Artemisia. But she wanted to find out about the girls.

“Darling, I just wanted to check on you.” She could hear the grief in her mother's voice. Just as Lucinda had been like a sister to her, she'd been like another daughter to Artemisia.

“I'm fine,” was all she could manage. “How're the girls coping?”

“As well as can be expected. Hannah slept with Amy and they both cried themselves to sleep. Why don't you take my advice and come home too?”

She sighed. “I told you I can't, I need to be here for the case.”

“Hang on,” Artemisia said, and there was a pause.

“Bianca, this is your father.” Her mother was bringing out the big guns.

“Hello, Daddy.” She closed her eyes again and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Welcome home.”

“We're worried about you, sweetheart. Why don't you come and stay in your old room, let us look after you for a while? I miss my little girl.” His warm masculine voice made her feel a little better.

She smiled. That was her dad. He let her have freedom to do what she wanted, yet was ready to give her a hug whenever she needed it.

“Not yet, Daddy, I have to work on this.”

He was silent for a moment. She could almost see him smiling. The same smile she heard in his voice. “I know, sweetheart. You do what you have to. But remember where your home is should you need us. We're here for you.
Any time
. Day or night. Okay?”

“Thanks, Daddy. I love you.”

“Theron, don't tell her that. Make her come home,” her mother said in the background.

“I love you too, sweetheart. And don't worry about your mother,” her father said. “I'll take care of her.”

“Give me that phone, Theron,” Artemisia demanded.

“ 'Bye sweetheart.” Her father hung up, cutting off her mother's objections.

Bianca allowed herself a little smile. Her mother was all emotion and sexual energy, where her dad was down to earth and filled with logic. Total opposites, yet they fit together so well and loved each other more than life itself.

The phone rang again. “Mother, I need too—”

“Bianca, it's Tones.”

She sat up straight. “Sorry, Tones. What've you got?”

“I traced the house to a small company that specializes in leasing properties to corporations. The company is a subsidiary of the O'Shea conglomeration.”

Bianca felt the charge building in every molecule of her body. She couldn't stop it. It burned from within, filling her with more power than she'd ever felt before.

“Bianca, did you hear me?” Tones said.

A white light exploded behind her eyes.