Kiss of Death (31 page)

Looks like Statesman may have been overkill—we probably didn't need one of the Bureau's best mathematicians.

Darren's keeping to his word and hanging back, which at the moment means waiting near the door for me.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Yup. Let's go.”

In total, two LAPD cars and two FBI cars pull into Temescal Canyon Road and the park's entrance. A ranger's car is parked just inside the entrance and when the ranger sees the first LAPD car pull up in front of me, he opens the gate. As soon as I've pulled in and parked my car, Darren and I get out.

“I'm Special Agent Anderson from the FBI.” I hold out my hand. “And this is Detective Darren Carter.” I don't bother explaining that Darren's from Tucson. “Thanks for coming down so quickly.”

“I'm Tommy Brown and this is Suzie Jackson.” He gestures to the ranger beside him.

We shake hands with them both.

I take a quick breath. “We've got an unknown number of perps who we believe call themselves the Knights of Reason. And they think they're vampires.” I don't give the rangers a chance to react to this—we haven't got time. “Two girls have already been murdered by them in some sort of ritual, and we believe there may be more bodies we haven't found. Plus, it's probable there'll be another girl murdered tonight. Our job is to find a ritual site that might be set up for tonight.”

“In the dark?” Jackson lets out a whistle. “That's gonna be tough.”

I nod. “I know. We've got a chopper looking for any sign of movement or lights and scanning for heat signatures, but we want people on the ground, too. And that's us.” I look at them both. “You got a detailed map?”

“Sure.” Brown brings a large map out of his pocket, an exact replica of the one I left with Statesman.

“We've got someone looking at the two murder locations we know of and extrapolating other possible locations. He's hoping to give us GPS coordinates but the map might help us, too. Our perps will be coming in by foot, so the ritual sites won't be too far off the trails.” I study the map. Even visualizing the upside-down pentagram gives me some ideas of rough locations and the two left-hand points would be close to the park's borders, and that means they're near roads. The perps could drive in and hike from there, rather than starting off on foot from here. I follow the map upward, looking for any potential northerly points. The park gets denser with trails as we travel north, so quite a few of the walking trails could be possibilities.

My BlackBerry buzzes and a glance at my watch tells
me it's almost exactly fifteen minutes since we left the station.

“Anderson.”

“It's Andrew Statesman. I have some locations for you.”

“Shoot.” I start searching for a pen.

“I can send a map to your BlackBerry, with all the spots marked. And you can use your BlackBerry to zero in on the coordinates.”

“Great. Send away.”

“Sending it now.”

I wait and a few seconds later my BlackBerry beeps. “Looks like I got it. Thanks.” I hang up and stare at the map, which contains the locations of the remaining three points of the pentagram and the center of the symbol, too.

“What's the plan?” Darren asks after about thirty seconds.

“If we include the rangers, there's eleven of us…and four locations to scout.”

Darren lets out a whistle. “That's leaving each team a little thin.”

“I know. That's the problem. We don't know how many perps we've got or if they're armed.” I pause, thinking through my options. The reality is, my team's too small to hit all four locations. “Time to call in air support.”

Studying the map Statesman sent me, the coordinates for the east point of the pentagram, the northeast point, the northwest point and the center are all within less than a quarter of a mile of a trail. That would give the vamps easy access. And, as I'd guessed, one point in particular is extremely close to a road.

I call Sloan and get her to patch me through to the chopper pilot.

“I've got four GPS locations for you. Can you check them all out looking for lights, movement, or heat, but
keep a low profile. I don't want to scare our perps away so don't fly too low.”

“Roger that. I'll stay high and use infrared.”

“Great. Anderson out.”

The most important thing is to find tonight's victim before it's too late. We can look for bodies in the daylight, with the help of cadaver dogs.

It only takes the chopper ten minutes to report back in.

“We've got definite heat signatures at coordinates 34.044529, 118.53250 and I think I might have seen something almost directly north of that, too, but I didn't want to buzz the area again.”

“You did the right thing.”

I check on the map Statesman e-mailed me—the GPS coordinates fall in the southwest corner of the park, the area that represents the most westerly point of our inverted pentagram. And north of that would be the top left corner of the symbol.

“Okay, thanks. We'll check out both locations. Wait until you hear from me before you do another flyby.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

I show Ranger Brown the two locations on the map.

He nods and points to the southerly point. “There's a trail in from El Medio Avenue.”

“I know El Medio,” I say. “It's where one of our witnesses lives.”

“You can also access your northerly point from farther up El Medio, but it would be at least a thirty-minute hike in.”

“Okay, we'll split into two teams.” I assign Tommy Brown, Darren, FBI agent Schultz and two uniforms with me for the southerly point; and Ranger Jackson, the other two FBI agents and two uniforms to hike in via the Bienvenido Trail farther north.

“Any questions?”

Everyone shakes their head.

“Okay,” I say. “Let's stay in touch on the walkie-talkies or use my cell phone.” I give them my number. “We will get reception, right?”

Brown smiles. “We're almost in downtown.”

“You're right.”

With the two teams assigned, we hit the road. Darren and FBI agent Chris Schultz ride with me, and the two uniforms and Brown are in front of us in a patrol car.

“You think we'll find them?” Darren asks.

“I hope so. The pilot spotted heat signatures, which means someone's up there.”

“Or some
thing
.” Schultz stares out the window.

He's right—all animals give off heat. But hopefully the chopper was close enough to be able to distinguish between a human-size heat signature and that of a smaller animal.

“Are you ready to face Winters?” Darren's tone is conversational. With Schultz in the back we can't talk freely, nor can he put too much emotion in his voice. We don't want Schultz thinking there's some reason I wouldn't be ready for a confrontation.

“Yup. I'm looking forward to bringing him in.”

I hope I am ready. I still feel a little…strange, but I can't quite put my finger on the sensation. It's partly emotional and partly physical, and the most similar feeling I've experienced is the vagueness that seems to set in when I'm extremely tired or jet-lagged. A strange sense of not being one hundred percent in the moment, not being entirely with it. Truth is, Darren's right to be worried, but I don't have a lot of options. All I can think about is my vision of Sherry running in the woods and the girl with the black hair. I've always felt an overwhelming need to save the victims, save one of them before it's too late, but when I started having dreams and waking visions nearly two years ago, that sense of urgency escalated. Now I can
sometimes feel so desperate to save the next victim that the fear of not succeeding is overwhelming. It's almost paralyzing.

Focus on the case, Anderson.
I take a few deep but quiet breaths. Adrenaline will kick in, I know it will.

Once I'm feeling more centered, I call Sloan. “Anything?” I ask.

“We got a search warrant for Winters' house and they've just started executing that now. Still no sign of the man.”

“And James Logan?”

“We found him and he's on his way here for questioning.”

“So unless it's someone else from his group…”

“Winters is your man.” Sloan finishes the sentence. “What about you? Statesman said he sent you through some coordinates.”

“Uh-huh. And we've got heat readings at one of the sites and maybe a second. I'm on my way to one of the locations now.”

The LAPD car in front pulls up, and I slip in behind it. “Gotta go, Sloan.”

“Sure. Stay safe and stay in touch.”

“Will do.” I switch off the engine and flip the trunk. “Let's go.”

My bulletproof vest is tucked neatly away in the back corner of the trunk and I put it on before also grabbing an extra round of ammunition. “Bulletproof vests on, please, everyone.” I hand Darren a spare vest I keep in the trunk. “It's a little big for me, so hopefully it'll fit you.” Darren nods.

I move closer to him. “This is madness, Darren. Why won't you stay in the car?”

He pulls a face. “You know why.”

I shake my head. “But you don't have a gun.”

Not only is Darren off duty, he's out of his jurisdiction.
He can't bring his gun up with him when he visits, and if I gave him a gun I could lose my job. Damn him.

“I'll be fine, Soph. You said yourself you don't think Winters or his gang will be armed.”

“No.”

Schultz emerges from the back of the car, gun in hand and wearing the bulletproof vest he'd grabbed from his partner's car before we split up. His shoulder holster lies on the backseat.

I wait while Darren, Brown and the two uniformed officers put on their vests and a few minutes later we move in. The track we're on joins up with Viewpoint Trail about three-quarters of a mile up, and that'll take us roughly equal in terms of latitude with where Sherry's body was found.

Once we're almost directly on the GPS coordinates Statesman gave us, I start looking for clearings or unmarked paths on the left, using my torch to search for fresh footprints. It's very dark, but the moon helps to light the way. So far, nothing. The T-intersection of Viewpoint Trail comes into view just as I hear the unmistakable sound of a scream.

We all hear it, all freeze, trying to get a lock on which direction it came from. I think back to my first dream…Sherry was running through the woods. While Damien's little ritual may end with a circle of candles and a sacrifice, it starts with the victims as prey and he and his followers as the predators.

Another scream.

“I think it's coming from the left.” It certainly sounds that way, but open spaces and trees can distort sound.

We run along the path the fifteen feet to Viewpoint Trail and at the intersection I turn to the group. “Darren, you come with me.”

I can tell by the look on his face that there's no way in hell he'd go anywhere but.

“Schultz and Brown, you take the left and you guys can head down that way, in case our ears are playing tricks on us.” I know the LAPD officers names are Shower and Figara, but in my haste I don't call them by name.

I draw my gun and run up the steep terrain, with Darren on my tail. Suddenly right in front of me a man crosses the trail and runs down to the left, into the brush. He must be chasing the girl. We take off after him. As I'm running through the area, I'm reminded of my dream again—branches are hitting my face even though I'm using one arm to shield myself. I'm slowed down by the brush, but then another scream spurs me on. I'm getting closer and can't be too far behind the male runner.

Suddenly the dense brush stops short and I emerge into a clearing, followed closely by Darren. He's as fit as me and could easily keep up, but the dense brush only allowed for single file.

The girl from my most recent vision is naked and being held by two men, with Winters hovering over her.

“Stop right there!” I bring my gun up and aim it at Winters.

Winters freezes.

“Back away from the girl, Winters.” Darren's voice is much calmer than mine and I wonder if it's an act or if my adrenaline is pumping harder than his.

Winters pauses, and for a moment I can see he's running through his options and thinking of fleeing. The darkness would help him—he's dressed in black and if he made it into the more densely vegetated area there's a chance he'd escape, even with our air support. But it's at least seven feet from the clearing to that scrub and I'd easily get a shot off in the time it took him to move.

The other two male vamps stay still, their eyes trained on their master.

“It's over, Winters,” I hiss through clenched teeth.

He turns to face me, drawing back his lips in a snarl
that shows sharp teeth. My torch reflects off his yellow glowing eyes and the barred fangs. It's a scary sight and I have to force myself to stand my ground and to
not
shoot. Just because the sight of him scares the hell out of me doesn't mean I can get trigger-happy.

Recognition crosses his face. “I know you.” His eyes are narrowed and he says the words with a snarl, before his face softens into a smug smile. “You look and sound different, but I'd recognize my appetizer anywhere.” He moves to take a step toward me.

“Hold it right there, Winters.” But Darren's words don't have the same effect when his hands are hanging limply by his side rather than training a gun on Winters.

Winters laughs. “I don't need to be close to either of you.”

I instantly feel light-headed and weak, just like I did at the café. My gun lowers, seemingly of its own accord.

“Soph!” Darren moves closer to me. “Fight him!”

“Soph…for Sophie.” Winters takes a deep breath. “Come to me, Sophie.”

My feet want to move forward, want to move toward Winters. At the café when he said the name Veronica it broke his hold on me, but now that he's using my real name, it's somehow giving him more power over me.