Destiny Disrupted (9 page)

Ariana shuffled forward. “What’s up?”

“I need you to come down to the police station with me.”

“Why?” She fiddled with the cuffs of her hoodie. “Is something wrong? Because I was home by ten last night—I swear!”

Sheriff Boyd glanced from me to Ariana. “Why don’t you come with us, Shiloh. Ariana might need you.”

His words settled in my gut like a stone. I grabbed my best friend’s hand and squeezed.

“What’s going on?” Ari asked.

Sheriff Boyd cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but your aunt’s been murdered.”

It was a short drive to the police station. The tree-lined streets were peaceful and deserted. Ariana remained quiet, staring out the passenger side window as she coiled a strand of hair around her finger, over and over.

I parked the Jeep, and the building loomed over us, a gray-cement structure with numerous windows and a gurgling fountain. We walked to the main entrance, and I tugged open the double-glass doors. Ariana went straight to the clerk behind a plate-glass window.

The officer leaned into the microphone. “Can I help you, miss?”

“We’re here to see Sheriff Boyd.” Ariana’s voice wobbled.

“Please have a seat,” the clerk replied.

From the drab lobby, the flashing blue lights outside the windows faded in and out. Taupe chairs, dingy taupe-painted walls, and taupe linoleum surrounded us. A coffee machine in the corner hissed and gurgled hot brown liquid into a mug. The office was alive with noise, phones constantly ringing, and pagers going off. Desks were covered with paperwork, folders, and legal pads. The air was somewhat musty, the overhead lights hummed, and people passed us with only the briefest of glances.

“Do you need anything?” I asked.

Ariana shook her head. “No thank you.”

I took one of her hands and held it. A tear slipped from her eye and she swiped it away. She leaned into me and rested her head on my shoulder. Tracing a finger over a heart engraved in the arm of the chair next to mine, I overheard snatches of conversation from the policemen:

“First all those missing kids, then those unnatural animal attacks, and now women being randomly murdered.”

“Random? Nothing unpremeditated about these homicides.”

“And that symbol carved into their foreheads really creeps me out.”

“…seems this psycho is only killing members of the founding families…”

“Yeah, the women in the Heritage Founders—”

“Must be another serial killer loose in the area...”

The little hairs on my neck bristled. I shifted my weight, my leg muscles quivering. Based on what the cops were saying; Ariana’s aunt wasn’t the first and only victim. How many others had already been killed? My vision narrowed on a scuffed tile directly in front of me. I stared at it without really comprehending what I was seeing. Maybe the murders, the Triad, and the founding families had a connection. But I had no idea what it could be. If the killer was just going after certain women in the founding families, then that meant he, she, or
it
was only targeting the adult witches in Fallen Oaks. Maybe it was Caym and his evil buddies looking for payback because they’d vanquished their leader.

Guess my boyfriend’s humanity troubles weren’t my biggest concern anymore.

Sheriff Boyd appeared from within the bowels of the inner office, holding a folder. His robust form filled the doorway. “Has anyone spoken to you since you’ve arrived, Ariana?”

“The officer at the desk told us to wait here,” she replied.

“I apologize for the wait. It was inexcusable, but this office is working several big cases at the moment.” He led the way to his disorganized office, then held the door with his foot and ushered us through. Boyd gestured to the two metal chairs facing his desk. “Have a seat.”

Boyd sat behind the cluttered desk. A moment of tense silence stretched between the three of us.

“You’re not a suspect, Ariana, if that’s worrying you,” Boyd finally said, putting the thick folder on the desk and shoving some papers into it. “You won’t need a lawyer, but if it makes you more comfortable, we can have someone from the DA’s office come down.”

“No, it’s okay.” Ariana’s body wilted into the chair, her hands trembling in her lap. “Can you please tell us what happened?”

Boyd tapped a pencil on the desk. With one hand, he grabbed the folder and scanned his notes, then lifted his head. “A jogger found your aunt’s body in a wooded area not far from your trailer about four o’clock this morning.”

Ariana went pale and waxy. Scooting closer, I rubbed her back. I had no idea what to say. She hunched over and started crying. Boyd pushed a box of tissues across the desk, and I handed Ariana a wad of tissues to blow her nose.

Boyd placed the tips of his fingers together. “When was the last time you saw your aunt?”

Ari blew her nose and sniffled. “About three days ago. She’s been working double-shifts at the restaurant since the other bartender quit. Do you know how…” she paused and bit her lip. “How she died?”

He leaned back in his seat. His bottom lip folded inward. “We won’t know anything for certain until the coroner examines her body, but we’re investigating this as a homicide.”

She drew in a startled breath, and glanced at me. Her blue gaze shocked and grief-stricken. The sheriff pushed a cup of water toward Ariana and she took a sip. My knees trembled.

If someone really was killing witches, was my mom or Darrah next?

“A-are you sure? Why would anyone want her dead?” Ariana asked, her voice slightly hoarse.

“That’s what we intend to find out.” Boyd cleared his throat. “Did your aunt have any enemies that you’re aware of?”

“I don’t think so.” Ariana stared down at her feet. “She’s been super busy at work and never really home.”

Boyd’s phone beeped at his hip and he checked the screen. “Who might’ve last seen your aunt?”

“Probably her boss.” Ariana put the water back on the desk. “They were sorta dating.”

He nodded, scribbling something in a notepad. A small blue bandage decorated Boyd’s left eyebrow. When he looked up from his writing, Boyd touched the wound tentatively with his fingers. “We’ll call him in for questioning.” He tapped the pencil against the notepad.
Tap, tap, tap.
“Had she been seen or overheard arguing with anyone recently?”

Ariana wiped tears on the sleeve of her hoodie and sniffled. “Not that I know of.”

Boyd scribbled something in his notebook again. “Had she been upset about anything?”
Tap, tap, tap.

Ariana blinked back tears. “I have no idea.”

I sat a little straighter, trying to see what Boyd was jotting down in the file. He pulled the page closer to him, resting his elbow on it, one hand under his chin.
Tap, tap, tap.
I wanted to grab that pencil and chuck it out the window.

“I want you to know that we’re trying to locate your parents, Ariana.” The sheriff’s fingers tensed around the pencil, his dark eyes locking on her blue ones. “In the meantime, do you have a place to stay until we canreach them?”

“She can stay with me. We have a spare room,” I said, and Ari gave me a grateful nod.

“One more thing, girls. There was a piece of paper clutched in Cadence’s hand. It said, ‘The Thirteenth Daughter must stop the cambion before more blood is spilled.’ Does that mean anything to either of you?”

Uh, yeahhh. It obviously meant
moi
and Trent. My throat went dry and my hands shook. I tugged at my collar. Damn, it was warm in here. Ari’s aunt must’ve planned to give me the note, or she’d written it while she lay there dying. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Should I keep my big mouth shut or spill my guts…

Oh, just tell him.

No, don’t. Not a good idea.

But Boyd knows about paranormals. You can trust him.

Don’t do it, Shiloh. It’ll only put him in danger.

Go for it.

No. Shut up!

While this internal conflict raged in my head, Ari and I shared a quick look.

“I don’t know what the note means,” Ariana replied.

“Me neither,” I lied.

“What about this symbol?” Boyd asked, holding up a piece of paper with the image of an upside down Y.

An uneasy, tingling sensation ran down my spine, and warmed my blood, like fiery pins and needles beneath my skin.

I shook my head. “What does it have to do with Ari’s aunt?”

He slipped the document into a folder.

“Please,” Ariana said. “You can trust us.”

The silence was stifling. Sirens screeched in the distance.

“It might be hard to hear…” Boyd finally said and rocked in his seat, the legs of his chair complaining. “That symbol was sliced into her forehead presumably by the killer.”

Throw him a bone, Shiloh.
Boyd was your dad’s best friend.

“I think it’s Gaelic. But I’m not sure what it means,” I said.

“Thanks.” Boyd shifted in his chair toward Ariana. “While you two were here, I dispatched the crime scene unit to search your home for clues and dust for fingerprints.”

Ari sniffled. “Oh…can I go by later and get some clothes?”

“Of course.” Boyd eyed us for a few long, agonizing seconds. “Anything else you girls want to tell me? Anything useful that might help us catch this person?”

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. There was plenty I wasn’t telling him, of course—the Evil Triad, the scary paranormal activity, the demon I’d vanquished in an alley before he’d killed one of the BRC—but none of those things fell under the heading of stuff the cops needed to know. It might even get more people killed. A sharp pang of sympathy struck my gut for Boyd. He might be searching for the killer in the wrong places, but at least he was trying to help save lives.

“No,” Ariana said, then nudged me with her elbow.

“Yeah, nothing I can think of,” I said quickly.

“Uh-huh. Do me a favor and please keep this conversation, in particular the note and the symbol, confidential.” He closed the file. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Ariana.” Boyd’s expression softened. “We’ll be in touch if any new evidence develops. You can go now.”

With one arm draped around her quivering shoulders, I guided Ariana outside and into the Jeep. She didn’t say anything, only stared unseeing at the trees. After I buckled her seatbelt and shut the passenger door, I slid behind the wheel.

I stuck the key into the ignition and glanced at Ariana. “We’ll figure out who did this to your aunt. I swear it.” I shifted the car into drive and backed out. “Let’s stop by the trailer and get your stuff.”

Ariana nodded. Then leaning over, she burst into loud sobs. She sucked in big gasps of air, shuddering between her cries. I tried to stay strong, but my own emotions threatened to pour from my heart as well.

It seemed the thirteen families were once again the target of something nefarious.

“Tell me again what we’re doing in a graveyard at midnight?” I kicked at the dirt with my Doc Martens boot. “It’s a school night, ya know.”

Ariana had moved into my house a week ago and she was fast asleep in the spare bedroom when I’d snuck out to meet my mom. I’d asked the shades to stay and protect her. Just in case.

Mom sighed. “This is part of your education, Shiloh, as a future Gatekeeper of the Sheol. Besides, being a demon hunter isn’t supposed to be fun.” Her fair complexion was shadowed by moonlight, and she brushed dark auburn hair that fell in silky waves past her shoulders from her blue-green eyes.

Blah, blah, blah.
Did I really want to be responsible for keeping demons from escaping the Sheol? No. Not really.

Did I have a choice? No. Not really.

White Witches used to do it. Once they had enough power to guard this world against a fracture in the magicks protecting the Sheol. Women, born to fight demons. Witches, destined to protect the world against the evils sealed within that otherworldly prison forever.

 Except, nothing lasted forever.

Opaque clouds masked the moonlight, pitching the cemetery into semi-darkness. The area seemed barren. Row upon row of gray monuments stood at attention, like soldiers waiting for a general who would never arrive. Some of the ivy-covered gravestones had been standing so long that they sagged at their posts. Others leaned against one another for support, like wounded men.

Mom patted my shoulder, the aqua hues in her aura fluttering wildly. Her sinewy arms, scarred from previous demon battles, were covered in gold bangles. She crossed her knee-high brown boots at the ankles, and stared out into the vastness of the cemetery. “A full moon is the best time to commune with the dead.” Mom hummed to herself while she dug in her big leather bag full of occult paraphernalia.

“Why couldn’t we just have a séance like normal people?” I asked with a shudder and hugged myself. “It’s cold out here.”

Mom liked talking to the dead. Earthbound spirits, she called them. If they had unfinished business with the living, they occasionally came to her for help. Sometimes she summoned them for answers. But undead conversations weren’t on my list of fun things to do. Mom thought she was the damned
Ghost Whisperer
.

“I’m hoping we can summon Cadence’s spirit. Perhaps I can discern who, or rather,
what
killed Ariana’s aunt. She deserves to know. And we’ll have a better understanding of what we’re dealing with.”

Mom removed a canister of salt from her bag and poured the fine, white grains in a circle around Cadence’s grave. Salt prevented other ghosts from entering the space we hoped her friend’s spirit would occupy.

A small service had been held for Ariana’s aunt in the Silent Hollows Cemetery. The same one we trespassed, er,
loitered
in now. Getting arrested tonight wasn’t on my list of fun things to do, either, so I kept an eye out for cops. It would suck if we got busted.

I slid both hands deep into the pockets of my jeans and sat on a tombstone. “Sheriff Boyd mentioned this note he found with Cadence’s body.” I told her what it said.

“Interesting.” Mom’s face was dipped in shadows as she set up. “In fact, Anthony thinks the Triad has more than one agenda.”

“You mean
Evans
?”

She laughed. “Yes. We’ve been dating—”

“Since when?”

“Ohhh, not very long.”

I pretended to stick a finger down my throat and made gagging noises. “It’s awkward enough thinking about you being romantically involved with anyone. But imagining you hooking up with my mentor...just—
ewww!
”

“While we’re on the subject of dating, are you and Trent still together?”

“Yup. Like peanut butter and jelly.”

Turning her body to face me, she stared at me as though I’d grown a second head. “There’s something
different
about you.”

“I dyed my hair black again. No more fuchsia highlights.
And
I did this really cool spell on hair growth.”

Mom frowned. “No, it’s something else.”

“Must be my white magick, it’s in full force now.” I grasped a decaying rose someone had left on a grave and plucked a petal. The withered pieces drifted lazily onto the grass. “I tried to call you, but I kept getting your voicemail. The potion you created worked. It totally cleansed me of the
Darkness.
”

“That’s wonderful, honey! This is the best news I’ve heard in months.” She kissed my forehead. “Sorry I didn’t return your call until today, but I was at a, um, this retreat. Anyway, you’ve been saved.” A faint smile touched her lips, then wilted. “Things haven’t changed between you and Trent since you’ve been cured of the
Darkness?
”

“Nope. I was worried about feeling differently, but I’m still crazy about him.” I plucked another velvety petal. “I’m beyond happy not to have that evil living inside me. I mean, on some level it
was
me. My thirst for revenge didn’t help. Esael didn’t just implant that evilness inside me. There had to be something there for the
Darkness
to feed on, like my rage.”

“That doesn’t make you evil, Shiloh. Humans have to choose of their own free will between right and wrong. And you bravely fought against its power.”

I dropped the rose. “All I meant was, if evil wasn’t tempting, there wouldn’t be any. If we pretend that we’re never attracted to the dark side, it’s like pretending it doesn’t exist in the world.”

“It does, and it can often cloud our judgment.”

“Uh-oh, something tells me Trent’s name is about to be brought up.”

She shifted her position, tucking both legs beneath her. “He’s becoming volatile, Shiloh. Evans said he’s had fits of rage over the smallest things at the manor. I still think it might be best if you two spent less time together.”

“But Trent needs me,” I stubbornly answered.

“We’ve been over this. Evil is inside him, it’s a part of him. And nothing will ever change that. We can talk about it later,” Mom said. “Right now, we need to discover who killed a member of my coven. Has Evans discussed the difference in paranormals?”

“Not all of them. We’ve covered the basics, like breeds of demons, but that’s about all.”

“Well, we believe this might be another premeditated demon attack.” Mom laid a black cloth with a white stitched pentacle in the center and symbols for each element over the grave. The five-pointed star, enclosed by a circle, was an ancient symbol of protection. Each point represented an element—earth, water, air, fire, and spirit. “There.” She squinted at me. “Not afraid of ghosts, are you?”

“Nah. Not after working at Craven Manor. But Upper Level demons are another matter.”

Mom bobbed her head. “Agreed. But I think we can handle anything that might show up. Would you please get me the candles from my bag?”

I handed her five candlesticks, and she placed them over the symbols representing the elements on the cloth.

“Now we sit,” Mom said, pointing at the five-pointed stars. “Here and here.”

I sat cross-legged, facing her, with the pentagram between us. Mom lit a stick of sage and its fragrant scent wafted around our heads. Smudging was a powerful technique performed by most Native Americans for cleansing rituals and I used it in my protection spells.

“Almost ready,” Mom said, waving the herb in the air, like she was spraying air-freshener.

After placing the sage into a bowl, she used her pyrokinetic power by touching each candlewick with her index finger until a flame fluttered to life.

We joined hands and recited,
“Soul from the other side, I summon thee. Crossover from the spirit realm, and hear my plea. Commune with us and let your presence be
.”

Cold air bit my cheeks and swept hair into my eyes. Phantom footsteps approached. Low whispers rustled amongst the leaves. Grayish silhouettes of heads dotted the landscape, as disembodied figures solidified and floated closer. Spirits couldn’t cross the salt barrier, but it didn’t stop them from moaning and swooshing beyond the invisible barricade.

My gaze caught a flicker of movement past Mom’s shoulder. In the trees. A hooded figure?

Mom let go of my hands. “Spirits be gone! You are not whom we seek.”

The specters obeyed, drifting away into the night.

I picked at the blades of grass around the edge of the cloth while we waited. The temperature rose in the graveyard. A balmy wind ruffled our clothes, and seeped through the thin fabric to warm my flesh. The haze thickened, roiling above the graves. The foul stench of brimstone polluted the air. Leaves crunched. Footsteps approached.

Mom put a finger to her lips. “I think I heard someone,” she whispered.

A prickling sensation slid over my body as I crossed the salt barricade. It didn’t keep paranormals out anyway, only ghosts.

Footfalls again. Louder. Closer. Mom got to her feet. I squatted to remove a hidden dagger engraved with mystical runes from my boot. My magickal mojo had returned when I was cured, but it never hurt to have a supernatural weapon handy, too.

A lone demon trampled over the grass near the stone structure behind us. Slim and muscular. Smoky skin, coarse and rough. At first, the shadowy figure resembled a blob of crude oil, attempting to coagulate into a denser shape. His insubstantial body flickered. It was Thug Two from Caym’s evil posse.

The thump of my galloping heartbeat roared in my ears. I stood tall, feet apart, with one hand clutching the dagger above my right shoulder.

Game on.

The demon’s lips curled back, revealing pointy teeth. “Hello, ladies. Lovely evening.”

What was Thug Two doing in the graveyard?

The demon briefly closed his eyes, drawing on the power of night. He absorbed the darkness, pulling the shadows into his body. His faint form wavered, then became more solid.

Thug Two opened his eyes, with a stare like forgotten mines—murky, hollow, with only a gleam of reflected light. He stood poised like a snake about to strike. Sharp claws raked along the mausoleum wall, shooting sparks.

Fresh blood smeared his mouth. If he’d just sucked out a soul or two, it meant he could take a solid form.

I stumbled back, my hand trembling on the hilt of the dagger. My heart pounded painfully in my chest. I’d thought Thug Two was less of a threat. Totally wrong.

And just by looking at him, I knew we’d never be BFFs.

Mom stepped between us. “Shiloh, stay behind me.” She raised her arms, palms facing each other. A mystical energy ball that glittered with bluish light formed between her hands.

I stepped back, letting her take control. I couldn’t see her expression, but I sensed her tension. Her white magick sparkled, coating her skin like fairy dust.

“What are you doing here?” Mom asked.

“You summoned me, love,” Thug Two said with a strange accent.

“Like hell I did.” Mom waved her hand and conjured the wind. A squall whirled the dust and dirt around the demon and caught him in the vortex of sparkling magick.

“Now, is that any way to greet an acquaintance?” Thug Two asked.

“Answer me,” Mom said, her voice strained. She moved beside me, her shoulder brushing mine.

The demon sized me up. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” He dipped his head in an old-fashioned gesture. “I’m Shax.”

“What the hell’s going on? We summoned a ghost—
not
a demon,” I said.

Shax winked at me. “Yet here I am, love.”

“What do you want?” Mom demanded.

The demon’s aura tightened, pulsing faster, harder. “You know the drill. Rituals. Incantations. Blood. All a part of the master plan. Where the great demon Esael failed, Caym thinks we will triumph.”

She shot him a cold look. Her jaw flexed. “I wouldn’t count on it.” Mom tossed the blue orb from hand-to-hand. “
How
did you escape the Sheol’s prison?”

I frowned. “Isn’t it obvious? Somehow their reptile butts slithered away to do wickedness.”

“Hey!” the demon exclaimed. “We don’t really slither about.”

“Oh, I’m sure you guys frolicked like a fluffy kittens,” I said.

Mom gave me a stern look, then faced Shax. “Who does your kind serve now?”

“Why do you ask questions that you already know the answer to?” Shax shook his head. “Soon we will seek vengeance on the Forsaken. You are running out of time and out of witches.”

“Not if I vanquish you first,” Mom said, her tone powerful and threatening.

Tension instantly filled the graveyard, thrumming between my mom and the demon.

Shax went still, unmoving, not a twitch, though his aura burned. This was going to end in a bloody massacre. Mom took my hand. Squeezed once.

“Quick lesson on demons, honey,” Mom said, tossing the azure ball of energy up and down in her hand. “If certain demons become solid enough, then an energy ball can weaken their defenses. Most demons can’t retain a denser form for very long, which makes their spectral bodies vulnerable. Usually, Lower Level demons are incinerated within seconds by the blast.” She eyed Shax with a slow smile. “Upper Level demons like this one have to be vanquished with a lot more magickal power than we have, but this sphere will still hurt like hell.”

“And they all put the
Ug
—in ugly, right?” I said.

Shax’s smug grin vanished. His eyelid twitched. “We don’t have to do this.”

“We can take him,” Mom said confidently.

I jerked my head toward her. “Are you nuts?”

“We
can
do this, honey.”

Shax’s eyes tightened, calculating. Fierce. His gaze flicked once to me, before his attention snapped back to my mom. “Now, now, play nice, girls. No need for the rough stuff.”

A tremor slid through my limbs. No way was I ready to go toe-to-toe with an Upper Level demon. Even with my mom as backup. We’d needed a whole coven just to take out Esael. I’d been training for weeks, but battling him would probably only earn me a butt-kicking to remember.

“Why the bloody hell did you just summon me from the Underworld?”

“You mean, the
actual
Underworld?” I repeated dumbly.

“It’s like a darker version of Gotham City.” The demon glanced in my direction. “There’s even a VIP section. Just opened, actually. You’d like it, love. Nice and toasty warm—”