Dark Wings Descending (10 page)

“Other than the fact he was higher than three kites tied to a satellite orbiting Mars?” Dr. Alan shuffled over to his computer and, one key at a time, hen-pecked his way across the keyboard. “You know his tox screen. If it could be injected, swallowed, or snorted, it was in his system. He was grossly overweight, but I put that down to his being a quarterback who would rather snort a line than run down one.” He glanced up from his screen. “Anything you looking for in particular?”

“Did he have any deformities?”

Dr. Alan blinked owlishly at her. “Deformities? He had several healed-up broken bones from old football injuries.”

Shaking her head, Rafe took the plunge. “Did he have any…” Her words failed her and she patted at her head.

“Head injuries?”

“Horns,” Rafe blurted out. “Did he have any horns?”

The silence in the room was absolute. Dr. Alan stared at her, looked at his computer screen, then out of the corner of his eye he looked back at Rafe again. “What medication have they got you on, Rafe?”

“Humor me, Doc, please. Did you find anything unusual on his X-rays?”

“On his head?”

Rafe shrugged. “On his head in this general area.” She patted to just above her temples.

Dr. Alan gave her a measured look that made her almost regret bringing this conversation up. But he beckoned Rafe over to his screen and brought up the X-rays from Armitage’s autopsy. “When he came in, his head was pretty much blown away, so he wasn’t going to win any prizes for being handsome.”

“Did he look odd?”

“His face was distorted, but no one’s face stays normal after a bullet through the forehead. Once I’d peeled his face off and found what was left of his skull, there wasn’t a whole lot I could piece back together.” He looked over his X-rays again. “Can’t remember seeing anything that resembled horns, though.”

“I was just checking.” Rafe studied the X-rays herself, desperately searching for proof of what she’d seen.

“He wasn’t red either,” Dr. Alan added.

“I beg your pardon?”

“He didn’t in any way resemble Hellboy.”

Narrowing her eyes at his sly drawl, Rafe had to smile. “This conversation stays strictly between you and me, right, Doc?”

“Of course. I’d hate for you to be back at work only two days and being chased by demons. Still, it would go a long way to explaining so many of the bodies I’ve had come past my tables.” He stepped back from his desk. “Must have been really dark in that alley, Rafe. Your eyes were playing tricks, no doubt.”

“No doubt,” Rafe said, knowing he was giving her an out. “What can you tell me about our latest victim, then?”

“She didn’t have horns either.”

Rafe bit back a grin. “Let it go, Doc, or I’m telling your wife about your late-night poker games you host here when you’re supposedly doing overtime.”

He wagged his finger at her. “You play dirty, Detective.”

“No, I play to win, which is why I clean you out every time. Now back to the victim, if you please.”

“This latest woman was killed in exactly the same way as the previous two.” He took off his latex gloves and slipped on a new pair. He handed Rafe a set as he guided her over to the fridges. “You have a serial killer on your hands, and a nasty one, judging by this killer’s modus operandi.”

Rafe followed him, standing aside as he pulled a tray out with a cloth-covered body on top. Rafe had seen Andrea Mason at her crime scene, but even now, seeing her face in rigor twisted in a mask of terror, it gave Rafe chills. She tried to hide her reaction from Dr. Alan. She didn’t need to give him any more concerns.

“This is a bad one,” he said as he finished rolling down the sheet. “I’m going to have to request that the family have a closed casket. They don’t need to see their daughter looking like this at the funeral. It was hard enough when her father came to identify her.”

“The stuff of nightmares,” Rafe said, moving her gaze off the dead woman’s face and down to the gaping neck wound.

“One clean cut, left to right, deep enough to cut open the jugular vein and have her bleed to death.”

“A swift kill, executed with military precision perhaps?” Rafe examined the wound. “There are no hesitation marks at all.”

“A hunter or butcher would be able to do the same.”

Rafe thought back to the profile Blythe had given her. This was the second time the skills of a butcher had been brought up. “So this is someone who knows how to incapacitate their prey swiftly and surely.” She studied lower down the torso. It had been left unmarked. The woman’s naked breasts looked pale and white in the stark light of the morgue. “No signs of sexual trauma?”

Dr. Alan shook his head. “Not a thing, no fluids of any kind left on or near the body. No vaginal tearing or bruising. There’s no sign of any sexual penetration taking place at all, before or
after
her death.”

“So he’s on his third victim and it’s still not sexual. So what is it that feeds his need to kill?”

Dr. Alan turned the body over carefully and Rafe got to see the full extent of the butchery wrought on the woman’s flesh. She couldn’t hide her wince this time.

“Fuck me. Without all the blood, it looks even more brutal.” She checked out the grotesque wounds. “And still there’s nothing missing?”

“Not a thing. All the organs are in place, the spinal cord is all intact, and there are no teeth marks to indicate he sampled the flesh.” He folded back a wedge of muscle. “She was at her physical peak, and from what I’ve learned from her family, she was a beautiful girl inside and out.” He laid her back down gently. “She didn’t deserve to end up like this.”

Rafe couldn’t bring herself to look away from the woman’s face. “What the fuck did she see just before she died that it seared on her face like that?”

“Maybe she saw the devil himself.”

Rafe flinched inwardly. She knew exactly what that looked like.

Ashley sat on a bench opposite the Chicago PD and watched the endless parade of people milling in and out of the building. Legs outstretched, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets, she looked like someone merely enjoying the pleasantly mild late afternoon. Her eyes, however, were fixed on a certain window three floors up. She’d seen someone pass by it a few times but hadn’t been able to tell if it was Rafe. She wished Rafe would just look out and see her to save her the wait of catching her when she left.

“Come on, Detective. See me down here. I’m playing by your rules. I’m not stepping foot inside your department. Come to me instead.” Ashley wondered if somewhere in the strange and magical mix of genes her father had passed on to her there could be a smidgen of a siren’s call. “Come on, Rafe, before I’m arrested for loitering.” Still staring up at the window, Ashley concentrated all her energy toward the glass. She blinked with a start as a figure stopped at the window, looked down, then did a very visible double take. Ashley couldn’t stop the grin from breaking across her face. “Oh yeah! Come get me, Detective. I’m out here waiting.” She pictured Rafe storming out of the DDU and heading for the elevator. She knew Rafe would be fuming as the floors counted down. Ashley kept her gaze fixed on the front doors. Sure enough, Rafe came stalking out of the building, and with barely a glance at the traffic, walked right across the road toward her.

“For fuck’s sake, Rafe, you should really brush up on your traffic code,” Ashley said, wincing at the long, drawn-out horn blast from a taxi directed at Rafe’s reckless crossing.

“What in God’s name are you doing here? I thought I made myself perfectly clear this morning.”

“You did. Crystal clear. But I can’t let you not wanting me near these killings stop me from telling you yet again that you need me by your side.”

“What part of no do you not understand?”

“The part that starts with an
n
and ends in an
o
,” Ashley replied flippantly. “I’m sorry, Detective, but I don’t do no very well. It’s a bad trait and I try to be penitent about it, but it’s something that’s a work in progress for me.” Ashley shifted on the bench, tucking a leg underneath her. “We don’t have time for you to get all territorial over these cases. You can piss-mark all you want on your next case, but here and now you need me. This killer isn’t done yet, and you need me working with you.”

“I have the whole police force behind me. What makes you so damn important?” Rafe loomed over her, her dark eyes intense as she stared down at Ashley.

“Because of who I am,
what
I am, and who I know. You need someone who can recognize a demon soul.” Ashley shrugged. “Who better than me?”

Rafe looked skyward and seemed to be offering up a prayer. Ashley was sure she heard “give me strength” escape from under Rafe’s breath.

“There’re no such things as demons,” Rafe said finally.

Ashley couldn’t help herself. She laughed. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that every time you wake up screaming when your dreams take you back into Armitage’s eyes and you feel yourself burning in the sulfur.” She felt a little remorse when Rafe’s face registered the obvious shock of dreams remembered. “You’ve witnessed hell, Detective, seen it and been marked by it. Tell me the fires don’t still scorch your skin when you recall looking into his eyes.”

Rafe’s face took on a haunted look and Ashley desperately wanted to reach out and pull her into her arms to hold her tight. Rafe sat on the bench beside her but wouldn’t look her way.

“Your assault has left you open to these things, Rafe. That’s why I could touch you and heal you. That’s how Eli could help you not be so blinded by what you can now see. You’re marked now.”

Rafe’s head lifted, her eyes filled with pleading. “Then take it all away, please. If you can do it, or Eli. Remove this from me, because I don’t want to see things other people can’t.”

Ashley reached for Rafe’s hand. She noticed how much smaller her own hands were as she held Rafe’s hand tightly between them. “I’m sorry,
Neo
, but you inadvertently took the red pill, and once you start falling down that rabbit hole there’s no turning back.”

Rafe’s eyes drifted to the people walking past her. “I just want my real life back again.”

“I’m sorry, truly I am. I believe, however, you were marked for a purpose.”

“That’s not very comforting. I’m beginning to lose my mind. I found myself asking the medical examiner today if Armitage had any signs of horns.”

“And?”

“He said it was too hard for him to tell seeing as Dean’s bullet ripped off his face and took out most of his skull in the process. Part of which I’m grateful for—he saved my life—but it does rather destroy the evidence I needed to prove I’m not certifiable.”

“It’s for the best,” Ashley said, then explained herself to Rafe’s sharp look. “I mean, face it. What would people do if you’d gotten proof the guy who tried to kill you was demon bred? What panic would ensue? I say it’s a good thing the majority doesn’t realize it. Then the ones who are aware can deal with it and protect the city from harm and hysteria.”

“It’s not in my job description to be a demon hunter.”

“It’s a tiny clause, written in the fine print. It hardly ever gets invoked until a certain detective bearing the right shield gets initiated.”

“You mean nearly gets herself killed by a demon football player.”

“Semantics. You lived to tell the tale. Admittedly, you can’t tell it to anyone or you’d be forced into retirement faster than a cokehead snorts a line of cocaine.” Ashley smiled sweetly at her. “You’re still one of the lucky ones.”

“Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t just walk away from you again.”

“You said I was beautiful.”

Rafe shrugged, but her cheeks began to redden. “Being under the influence of demon poison running through my veins no doubt clouded what little judgment I had left.”

“It still counts; you can’t take it back. I heard it and Trinity heard it.”

“Cats aren’t known to be great witnesses.”

“You’d be surprised what she’d say under oath if I promised her tuna.”

Rafe grinned. “You’re crazy.”

“Then that makes two of us, doesn’t it? We crazies have to stick together against an insane world.” She looked deep into Rafe’s eyes when Rafe turned to stare right back at her.

“And what are you exactly?” Rafe asked. “With the glamour and the golden light show. What does that make you in this world of two halves?”

“You don’t think maybe I’m demon spawn too?” Ashley was intrigued how Rafe would answer. Intrigued and a little scared. Rafe never broke eye contact with her. Ashley felt like she could see into Rafe’s very soul and, in that very moment, Rafe could see right back into hers.

“I don’t see an endless hell when I look into your eyes.”

“What
do
you see?”

“Too many things that I can’t even begin to think about,” Rafe said, looking away.

“We’ll get back to those things,” Ashley said, her heart lightening at Rafe’s obvious interest. “Now, are you going to stop banning me from your office, or are we going to start up clandestine meetings where we share information and devise a plan of action to catch this killer?” Ashley stretched her arms along the back of the bench, her fingertips in reach of Rafe’s shoulder. She ached to brush her hand over the stark white of the formal shirt. “I’m all for the cloak-and-dagger stuff, meeting in dark corners, sneaking around like erstwhile lovers.” She quirked an eyebrow at Rafe’s face. “Or I could just come into your office as myself or glamoured as someone else and we could go down that route.”