“I’ll sign the paperwork indicating that his sister dropped by and demanded that the body be cremated immediately for religious reasons. You will then declare that the tests are inaccurate due to a contaminated sample. The cause of death is obvious and we’ll identify and dispose of the body before we leave. Your jobs are nearly done, gentlemen.” The plans flowed forth easily, as if I did this every other night. But the fact was it was rare that I had to deal with the death of a nightwalker. Most of the time, it would turn out to be a lycanthrope or a warlock that was a very heavy magic user. As Keeper of this domain, I was the first and last line of defense for all the supernatural races when it came to protecting our secret.
Both men hesitated, but Daniel finally muttered something under his breath before walking out of the room, his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers. Archibald said nothing as he waddled over to the desk and pulled out the necessary forms. His white lab coat fluttered behind him, nearly dragging the ground. He marked X’s where he needed me to fill out information and sign. Spreading the paperwork out on the desk, he left Knox and me to the corpse.
Now that we were alone, I pulled off the blue-tinted sunglasses I had been wearing and hooked them over the top button of my shirt. “That could have gone better.” I wanted to snarl in frustration.
Knox paced away from the corpse, his arms crossed over his chest. “They’re unnerved by what we are. It can’t be helped.”
“Bullshit. They were unnerved by your behavior. I’ve seen you easily sway anything with nice breasts and a tight ass. What happened here?”
“Maybe it’s because those men lacked the aforementioned items,” he commented dryly, making me want to throw something at his head.
“Well, you better learn to widen your scope because they’re not going anywhere and we need their assistance. You need them and they’ll be far more helpful if they’re not worried about you grabbing a snack.”
“If you want, I can go tweak their memories,” he offered.
I waved my hand at him, stopping any movement toward the door. “No, don’t go messing with their memories. You need their trust and you don’t get that if you’re mucking around in their brains.”
“They’ll never know.”
“I’ll know.”
Knox nodded, removing his dark sunglasses so that I could look into his brown eyes. “I’ll do better next time.”
“Thank you,” I murmured as I stepped up to the body. It was highly unusual for Knox to be so gruff and harsh when dealing with humans. His nature was very ingratiating, and his dark, handsome looks tended to win over the reluctant. His maker had the same manner. Because of his uncharacteristic behavior, I was beginning to worry that Knox had been well-acquainted with the victim.
Looking down at the steel tray, my eyes skimmed over the badly burned face. The skin was blackened and the eyes were now gone as if they had melted in their sockets, sending the fluid down in to the back of the skull. It looked like he might have had short-cut, brown hair. But the condition of the head wasn’t the disturbing part. It was the fact that it was no longer attached to the body.
It was likely that that was the killing blow, but the murderer could have removed his heart first and then his head. The nightwalker’s chest cavity had been ripped open and the heart cut out using some kind of serrated blade that had torn the edges of the flesh into ugly shreds. At least it was likely that the victim had felt no pain. It appeared that it all happened during the daylight hours, meaning that the vampire had been dead to the world.
“I’m assuming that you recognize who this is,” I said, my own mood growing more sour and anxious as I continued to examine the corpse. I vaguely knew all the nightwalkers within my domain. There were more here than in most cities this size, but then I maintained a tight control over my domain. It afforded those that lived here more of a sense of security and peace than what many cities could offer.
However, during the past few years, I had begun to withdraw from my own kind, no longer wanting to be faced with them. I didn’t want to hear their thoughts in the night, or feel their cool presence as I moved silently through the city searching for my next meal. Knox had taken over much of the night-to-night management. Of course, that simply required him making regular appearances at all the nightwalker hot spots.
“His name was Bryce.” Knox leaned his back against the refrigeration unit, his arms crossed over his chest. His shoulders were stiff and his normally neutral expression was twisted into a frown.
With my hands braced on the table before me, I looked up at my companion. “What’s your problem? Did you know him well?”
A faint shrug briefly lifted his narrow shoulders. “I knew him, but not well.”
“Then what has got you so on edge?”
“He was executed,” he hissed, waving one hand at the severed head. “His head was cut off and his heart removed. He was executed during the day when he was defenseless. How are you not unnerved by this?”
“He was possibly killed during the day,” I corrected, trying to keep both of us calm and rational. “We won’t know for sure until we check his house.” The truth was that I was unnerved and more than a little concerned. If Bryce had been killed at night, it was highly likely that the murderer was another nightwalker. And then my only reason for tracking down the murderer would be punishment for allowing the humans to catch wind of it and threatening our secret. However, if Bryce had been killed during the day, we had a bigger problem. But we had to tackle one thing at a time, and a panicked Knox would do me no good.
“How old was he?” I demanded, attempting to refocus Knox’s attention.
“Less than two centuries.”
“How long has he been in my domain?”
“About a decade. Maybe a little more.”
“Was he involved in anything recently that I should be aware of? Changes in allegiance? Was he a part of a family?”
Knox pushed away from the wall and stood, shoving one hand through his sandy blond hair. “I-I’m not sure.”
“Concentrate,” I murmured, looking over Bryce for any identifying marks. Some families were known for branding their members. We couldn’t be tattooed because we always healed, but we could retain some scars if we were low on blood and were unable to heal properly. The process was generally painful and ugly, but then most families were painful, ugly affairs. I didn’t find anything on Bryce, but I wasn’t surprised. Most of his body was either singed or blackened from its exposure to the sun.
“He’s a part of the Ravana family, I believe. He came to Savannah alone and immediately got sucked into Justin’s clan,” Knox replied. His voice grew steadier the longer he spoke, as if he were finally detaching himself from the gruesome death of the nightwalker that lay before him. Nightwalker flocks were like high school cliques, each with its own set of rules and bizarre tastes.
A low, steady hiss escaped me as I turned this new bit of information over in my brain. I had been hoping that he wasn’t a member of one of few families that existed within my domain, but of them all, Justin Ravana’s clan was the most undesirable. Cruel and vicious, Justin was one of the oldest within my territory and had been practically raised by the Coven. I hadn’t thought much of his petition to live in my domain decades ago, but I had regretted agreeing ever since. Justin specialized in brutality, torture, and control. No one that entered into his family ever escaped it alive.
“When Bryce was away from his family, he tended to associate mostly with fledglings,” Knox continued. “During the past few years, I’ve seen him mainly with this small group of nightwalkers, mostly females, all less than a century old.”
“Not exactly the best list of suspects you’ve got for me.” I stood, pulling away from my examination of the corpse. “A group of fledglings? It’s possible that it was Justin, but it’s not his style to hand off the murder to someone else who could do it during the day. He’d want to be part of it. Justin would have taken the time to handle it personally over a
series of weeks if possible.”
“What? You’ve never seen a fledgling kill another nightwalker?” Knox scoffed. The comment finally caused some of the tension to roll off of his shoulders.
“I’ve seen the remains of plenty of fledgling kills, but I’ve never known of any fledgling that could accomplish the feat during the day. And I’ve never known a fledgling to kill a nightwalker in this style.”
“Really? Fledglings have a style? A preferred method of murder?” he mocked.
“Don’t we all?” I batted my eyes at him.
“We all know your preferred method, Fire Starter,” Knox said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans. He leaned against the cooler, careful to keep his eyes on me and not on the corpse. “What about fledglings?”
“I guess I have something in common with them. Fire is their preferred method. It’s fast, effective, and relatively easy. Of course, I’ve seen just as many fledglings go up in flames with their intended victim because they weren’t careful.”
“So you’re saying one of the fledglings that knew Bryce didn’t kill him,” he suggested, earning him a grin.
“I didn’t say that. It’s possible, but unlikely, particularly if he was killed during the day.” I wasn’t willing to say out loud who I thought had killed Bryce—we were both on edge enough.
An easy silence settled between us as I contemplated our dead friend and his potential attacker. Knox stood nearby, ready to offer up information. He was careful to look anywhere but at the half-burned, beheaded corpse. “Did you ever do this with my maker?” Knox softly asked, fiddling with his sunglasses.
“What? Look at corpses with Valerio?” I asked, my brow furrowed at the unexpected question. “All the time. It was how we spent most of our nights.”
“Ha. Ha,” he said, rolling his eyes at my sarcasm. “I can imagine how you spent most of your nights. But you know what I mean. He said you and he investigated strange things for the Coven back when you were in Europe?”
A smile drifted across my lips before I could stop it. I had too many good memories of Valerio, but that didn’t mean I was willing to share. Some were too embarrassing or too gruesome. And others were simply too private. My time with Valerio wasn’t always filled with happy memories and I was frequently horrified by some of the things we did, but I would never trade the moments I had with Knox’s maker.
“Yes, Valerio and I frequently looked into a strange death or a corpse that needed our unique attention to keep the secret protected. During that time, we never found a fledgling that could kill during the day.” I smiled at my companion for lightening the mood and shook my head. How had Valerio ever stood to part with this child? I was becoming far too attached to him.
“Is there anything else I should know about our dead friend?” I asked, resting my hands on the edge of the stainless steel table next to Bryce.
“The only other thing I can think of is that about six months ago he petitioned you to allow him to bring over his lover,” Knox added.
My head snapped up at this bit of information. “I’m assuming that I said no.”
“You denied the request,” Knox confirmed. His brow furrowed slightly as he turned over my sudden interest. “You think she had something to do with this?”
“I’m hoping such a thing is impossible since her memory was wiped,” I said in a hard, cold voice.
“It was.”
“Did our headless friend tell you that or did you check for yourself?”
“I checked. There were no memories of Bryce or nightwalkers in her brain,” he replied.
Biting down on my lower lip, I stared down at the blackened remains of Bryce, still wondering if his would-be fledgling had found a way to murder him because he had refused to make her into a nightwalker. Though equally unlikely, there were still a number of ways she might have been involved in Bryce’s death.
“Is she a magic user?”
“The woman?” Knox’s perpetually even, dry tone jumped several octaves. “I don’t think so.”
“If she is, she may have been able to hide her memories from you.”
Knox’s whole body stiffened at my comment while his expression went completely blank. “Do you honestly think Valerio didn’t show me how to pick apart the mind of a magic user?” he demanded in a brittle voice.
A ghost of a smile flitted across my face at Valerio’s name on his tongue. “Would it have occurred to you that she might be?” I countered, but quickly waved my hand at him. “I don’t doubt your ability and I think it’s highly unlikely the woman is a magic user. However, I find it strange that six months ago he was denied the right to make a vampire and now he’s dead using a very human form of execution.”
“Could have been a nightwalker,” Knox suggested, putting his sunglasses back on again.
“Maybe,” I whispered. Had Justin not approved of Bryce’s request to create a fledgling and decided to act against the nightwalker in some fashion? The time issue still needed to be confirmed. “We won’t know until we get to Bryce’s place.”
“We?”
“Of course! You think I would leave you out of the fun of ransacking a murdered vampire’s lair for clues as to his killer? Not a chance.” My outrageous teasing left a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Besides, there will be plenty of time for you to track down the woman and anyone known to associate with Bryce,” I continued, crushing the smile before it could actually form.
“You’re too kind, Mira,” Knox sneered. He took a step backward as I placed Bryce’s head on his stomach. I then picked up the dead nightwalker and carried him over to the oven. Setting the nightwalker inside, I closed the door and summoned up my powers. Within seconds, the body was consumed with flames hotter than any that could be produced by the crematorium. The remains were reduced to ash. Bryce was no more.
As I looked up at Knox, a cold grin stretched across my lips. “You have no idea how kind I can be.” I was the Fire Starter, scourge of our people. The protector of our secret. Kindness was all relative.
2
A crunch of gravel was my only warning as we walked across the parking lot of the morgue to my car. I hadn’t scanned the area for other nightwalkers. This was my domain, and no one would dare to attack me in my own domain. I was wrong. Pain exploded in my ribs just before my body slammed into the side panel of a dark blue station wagon, denting the metal and breaking two of my ribs. With a snarl, my head snapped up to see who attacked me. Knox was squared off against a dark-haired nightwalker in leather pants and a black T-shirt. Other than his porcelain white skin, he looked as if he was a part of the night itself.
“Stand down, Knox,” I ordered, pushing back to my feet. My body protested the movement as my ribs attempted to mend.
“Mira?” Knox paused in his circling of the other nightwalker, but his brown eyes still glowed; he was ready to attack if I said the word.
“This is my fight,” I stated, taking a step toward the nightwalker. “It’s been a long time, Bishop. I don’t remember inviting you into my domain.”
The nightwalker smiled, but had yet to take his gaze off Knox. Bishop was nearly five centuries old and a very skilled fighter, making him one of the most valued servants of Macaire. The Coven Elder wouldn’t dispatch Bishop without a very good reason.
“As an emissary of Macaire, I go where I wish,” he announced. He sidestepped to his left so that he could look at both me and Knox at the same time. Unfortunately, Knox still stood between us. Bishop might be here on business with me, but he would have no qualms over ripping through Knox just for the fun of it.
“Knox, go inside and see if there is anything else that Archie needs to complete his paperwork,” I commanded, but Knox didn’t move. If anything, he seemed to sidle slightly in front of me.
“Not a chance. I’m not leaving you out here alone with this guy,” Knox said.
“No wonder I’m here. Your people won’t even listen to you,” Bishop mocked, straightening from his defensi
ve stance.
“Go, Knox. I know him. We have some business to settle,” I said, pushing the words past clenched teeth. Normally, Knox’s loyalty and readiness to protect me at all times would be flattering, but not now, not in front of a member of the Coven’s court.
Knox hesitated a moment before finally edging around Bishop and heading back into the morgue where he would make sure that no one came out to the parking lot while Bishop and I discussed whatever business had brought him into my domain.
We both waited until we heard the door to the morgue slam shut before we were in motion. My nails raked across his chest, tearing his shirt and leaving four ragged cuts across his skin. He backhanded me, throwing me into the side of another car. Pain spread across my face, leaving me with the feeling that he had broken my cheekbone. With a growl, I pushed away from the car and launched myself at him. Ducking his swinging fists, I landed a punch to his gut that broke a rib or two before he managed to grab my throat with his right hand. He squeezed, effectively closing off my airway. I didn’t need to breathe, but from this position he could quickly rip my head off, ending this contest.
I grinned at him, my eyes glowing an eerie shade of purple as in nightshade. Around us, a circle of fire sprang up from the ground, closing in so that there was barely a foot of open space between us and the crackling flames.
Bishop pulled me close to him so that the tip of my nose touched his. There was no escaping his hard, black gaze. There was no light, no glow of power, just a black empty pit as if his power were bottomless. “Do it, Mira!” Bishop whispered. “Incinerate me. I swear you’ll awaken tomorrow night back in the hands of the Coven in Venice, and this time Jabari will not be there to save you.”
A shiver ran through me at his cold words. The Coven was the ruling body of the nightwalker nation, and it was an ugly place of pain and nightmares. It was a place I had escaped centuries ago and rarely visited, particularly since Jabari, one of the four Elders, had gone missing.
Bishop’s grip on my throat loosened slightly so I could talk. “What do you want?” I asked in a ragged whisper.