Fragile Brilliance (Shifters & Seers) (8 page)

It was even worse in person. Charlie wasn’t quite sure how that was possible since it had been the most disgusting and disturbing thing he’d ever seen when he was looking at it through the window, but there was no doubt it was at least ten times more gruesome when you were actually standing in the room.

“Are we sure this it’s Barros? I mean, he’s kind of…” Charlie thought there was probably a word for how a person looked after Leatherface from
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
got ahold of you, but his brain was too busy trying to talk him into turning around and walking away from this scene to think of it.

“It’s him,” Joshua confirmed, holding his phone up next to the dead man’s neck. “The tattoo matches.”

It was a testament to how screwed up all this was that no one asked Joshua where or how he’d pulled up a picture of Barros’s tattoo so quickly.

“What do we know about him?”

Liam scrubbed a hand over the top of his head. “Not much. We contacted the Barros Pack when he didn’t show at the hustings like he was scheduled to. They said he was coming to ask for some land bordering their territory and wasn’t claimed by anyone else. Should have been a simple, no drama kind of thing. When I told them he hadn’t shown up, they started calling hospitals and police stations, thinking he’d been in a bad wreck or something. They said he wasn’t the kind of person to just flake on meeting with the Alphas, and the pack has no enemies to speak of.”

“What about other enemies?” Even though he would rather go back downstairs, out the door, and walk straight to his bedroom where he might try to forget this day ever happened, Charlie knelt down in front of the body. Someone had cut off the lips and part of the ears. The bottom half of the body was wrapped in wire, and a hook had been inserted into each shoulder. The hooks were connected to chains coming off the ceiling. They held the top part of the body just a foot off the floor. To keep the head from flopping back, it had been fastened onto the shoulder. “This doesn’t look like a pack vendetta to me. It looks personal.”

“It looks crazy.” Jase was holding onto Talley’s hand so tightly her fingers sported stripes of purple and white. Charlie worried about sensitive Talley being near something so disturbing, but she seemed to be hanging in pretty well, considering the circumstances. Jase might have wanted it to look like he was clinging onto his girlfriend to comfort her, but Charlie could clearly see it was Talley who was keeping Jase upright.

Charlie had heard Scout and the Thaumaturgic coming up the stairs, but his heart still stuttered when the door opened. He took comfort in knowing the whole situation was at least affecting him on a subconscious level, because on the surface he wasn’t feeling anything. It was like his brain knew the responses he should have - disgust, fear, anger - but he couldn’t actually feel them. He felt as detached from the horror surrounding him as he did everything else in the world. He wasn’t a psychologist, but he met with one once a week and was pretty sure this was one of those things that would make the good doctor decide to schedule a few extra appointments if he mentioned it.

“Crap.” Scout threw a hand up over her hand and mouth. “It’s just as bad in human form.” Her hand muffled her voice, but Charlie could understand her. It was Scout. He always understood her, even when he really wished he didn’t. “How long do you think he’s been dead?” When no one answered, she looked around from person to person, meeting each of their eyes to indicate they should be bringing forth the information she wanted. “Seriously?” she finally asked when the Thaumaturgic just looked at her like she was a raving lunatic. “No one even has a guess?”

“Sorry,” Jase said, “you haven’t forced me to take a forensic biology class yet, but I’m sure you can fit that into your master plan for my life at some point.”

Scout didn’t give into the argument Jase was clearly trying to pick. “It’ll be too late then,” she said. “God, I wish Toby was here.”

Five words. Five little words. I. Wish. Toby. Was. Here. Each one of them a knife in Charlie’s soul.

Pain is better than nothing at all? Screw that. Pain sucks.

It wasn’t the words themselves. Charlie thought the same thing at least a million times a day. It was the careless way they tumbled out of Scout’s mouth as if
she
felt nothing at saying them. And that was wrong. Everyone should feel the same empty void as Charlie did anytime his brother’s name was mentioned. It wasn’t fair they were able to move on with their lives when his had stopped on that field in Minnesota over a year ago.

Joshua walked over, knelt in front of the body, and pulled a stylus from his back pocket. For reasons Charlie would probably never understand, it had a fuzzy pom-pom thing and googley eyes like kids use in arts-and-crafts projects stuck on the end. The contrast of the cheerful blue fuzz monster and the mutilated dead body was enough to tip the whole scene from unreal to surreal.

“Blood has congealed, but the body is still in rigor mortis,” Joshua said, pointing to some dark purple spots on the man’s arms. “If I was guessing, I would say he’s been dead maybe twenty-four to forty-eight hours. All the…
work
was done to the body post-mortem.”

Scout had wandered over to Liam and tucked her arm around his waist. His arm was slung over her shoulders. It looked very casual and thoughtless, but they were clinging to each other for support just as much as Talley and Jase were. Being Alphas meant they couldn’t show their weakness and need for one another, even when surrounded by friends.

Well, friends and a Thaumaturgic who was standing on the other side of the room, her focus on the painting Charlie hadn’t noticed until now.

“Does he actually know what he’s talking about?” Scout asked.

“It’s Joshua,” Liam answered. “Who knows?”

“I know,” Joshua said, standing back up. “I happen to be quite well versed in this sort of thing. I watched every episode of every season of every incarnation of
CSI
.”

Scout closed her eyes on a sigh. “Joshua—“

“Which is what led me to taking a few classes in criminology and forensic science a few years ago.” His smile was unrepentant.

While they were talking, Charlie made his way over to where Maggie was standing. She was either trying very hard to block out everything going on around her or was completely absorbed with the unsettling painting, which definitely hadn’t been there when he’d sparred with Layne the night before. Either way, she had no idea he was behind her. He stood close enough to feel the heat coming off her body. She was so small he could easily look over her head to see all the disturbing details of their newly acquired piece of art.

“That’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen,” he said, and felt a strange sense of satisfaction when she jumped at the sound of his voice. Her pulse quivered against the skin of her throat.

Maggie sent a sharp glance over her shoulder and then took a step forward. Away from him. “For the style it’s actually really small. The canvas is only six foot by eight foot. DaVinci’s
The Last Supper
was fifteen feet tall and nearly thirty feet wide.”

Charlie took two steps forward. “Fifteen feet? It’s a good thing they didn’t go with that scale. It would have never fit in here. The ceiling is only ten feet high.” Maggie tried to slide to the left, but he followed her. The step put him so close his fingers were brushing against her arms. Her skin was satiny smooth and he found himself raising his left hand slowly, purposefully dragging it against her bared flesh. She shivered, little goose bumps breaking out across her skin. “You seem to know a lot about art,” he said, his voice a near growl.

“That’s because she’s an art major.” Scout said from behind his shoulder. “She’s very talented. I saw the doodles in her notebook the other day.” Feeling crowded, Charlie tried moving away from the girls, but there wasn’t really anywhere for him to go. He was trapped by Scout’s body, the Thaumaturgic, and the wall. “If I remember correctly, it was a naked guy whose chest was ripped open. A girl wearing polka-dotted underwear stood beside him munching on his heart.”

Maggie saved him from a claustrophobic meltdown by stumbling back until she was literally pressed up against the painting. Her eyes flicked over to the stairs.

“No matter how fast you run, we can run faster,” he warned her in a low voice.

“I didn’t do this.” The way she was trembling reminded him of a cornered rabbit. The coyote inside of him wanted her to make a run for it. He was eager for the chase. “I… I’m not even a good painter. Give me a brush and some canvas and I’ll prove it.”

Charlie tilted his head, his focus once again captivated by the twitching pulse in her neck. “All that would prove is you’re not stupid enough to show us you’re a master painter when we’re looking to hang one for murder.”

All the color drained from her face, and even though he didn’t think it was possible, she started shaking even harder. “I didn’t kill anyone. Yes, I like to draw. And yes, sometimes it gets a little macabre, especially when I’ve had to endure the roommate from hell and her douchebag boyfriend, but I didn’t do this,” she said, thrusting a finger at the painting. “I didn’t even know you guys were here until this afternoon, and even if I did, I couldn’t have done that to that man. Look at me.” It was a ridiculous request. Like he could look anywhere else. “Do you think I could carry a dead body twice my size? I couldn’t even carry the painting.”

“That just means you had help.” The coyote urged him to pounce, but he held himself still, refusing to give into the animal inside of him. That way only led to death and heartache. He’d had enough of both to last a lifetime already. “Confess now, little rabbit, and we may be convinced to go easy on you.”

“I didn’t do it.” The tremble had spread to her voice and a single tear streaked down her face. The sight of it caused an honest-to-goodness growl to build in his throat.

“Stop it.”

His prey was suddenly blocked. He made a move to remove the obstacle, but the obstacle wasn’t having it. Scout grabbed his shoulder, her nails digging into his flesh. “Damn it, Charlie. What the Hades is wrong with you?”

“I won’t let her hurt you,” he said.

Scout snorted. “She’s five-foot-nothing, and if she weighs a hundred pounds dripping wet I’d die of shock. She couldn’t hurt me if she wanted to.”

He finally pried his attention away from his trembling prey. Scout was wearing her I’m-surrounded-by-morons face, her annoyance and exasperation so strong it seemed to be coming off of her in waves. How could she be so blasé? Had she already forgotten everything they had been through? The people they had lost?

“She’s a Thaumaturgic, which means she’s hardly helpless. Just ask Vincent here.”

“I. Did. Not. Do. It.” Maggie’s voice still quivered, but it wasn’t weak. Charlie’s coyote perked its ears. His little rabbit still had some fight left in her. Good. It was disappointing when the prey just lay there waiting to die.

While Charlie and Scout were having their little standoff, the other members of the Alpha Pack gathered around. Liam stood just beside Charlie, his muscles tensed as if he was ready to strike. Talley moved up beside Maggie and was reaching for her hand, as if she was trying to comfort the girl. Jase, as always, was beside Talley. Joshua was ignoring them all as he examined the painting.

“She’s on here,” Joshua said, his face inches from the piece of canvas which nearly reached the ceiling. “Look.” He pointed to one of the figures Charlie hadn’t paid much attention to the first time. His attention on that section had been completely occupied by his own face contorted in pain. “She’s right here. If she did this, why would she paint herself as one of the victims?”

“Vanity?” Jase guessed.

“Distraction,” Charlie answered.

“I didn’t—“

“I know you didn’t,” Talley said, squeezing Maggie’s hand. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. The boys are going to believe you and stop being jerks now.” He gaze swung to Charlie. “Aren’t you?”

Talley’s eyes were full of chastisement, and for a moment Charlie allowed a bubble of guilt to burst to the surface, but it quickly vanished. Sure, if Talley said the girl didn’t do it, then she didn’t do it. It wasn’t exactly like she could get away with lying when Talley was holding her hand. Talley’s position as a Soul Seer meant she could get into Maggie’s mind and See all the thoughts and emotions floating around in there. Still, that didn’t mean Maggie wasn’t a threat. It just meant she wasn’t this particular threat.

“I don’t know her, and I don’t trust her,” Charlie said. “And I want to know how her face got on that damn painting if she really didn’t know about us until today, because I know we didn’t know who or what she is.”

“Charlie…” The admonishment came from between Scout’s teeth but her eyes were sad. He knew she was thinking he wasn’t the friend she had grown up with and loved, but he couldn’t find it within him to feel bad about that. The truth was, he wasn’t that guy any more than she was the girl he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. Things changed. They had changed. And maybe he was less sympathetic than he’d been then, but the old Charlie had stood by and watched as people around him died. New Charlie wasn’t going to let that happen again, even if it meant he had to be an asshat.

“The paint is still wet.” Joshua’s comment didn’t match up with everything else going on in the room. At least, it didn’t to Charlie. And the the-killer-is-in-the-house tone with which he said it didn’t help matters any. “Not the whole thing,” Joshua clarified. “Just Maggie.” He touched the spirals of dark hair on the picture gingerly. “Not wet-wet, but definitely not dry. And it looks… different. Everyone else has so much detail there isn’t any doubt who it’s supposed to be, but not Maggie. I think they were in a hurry or maybe didn’t know what she really looked like.”