Storm (The Storm Chronicles Book 6) (15 page)

“’aving dinner at my employer’s place. I work for Sebastian Pace, I’m his cook, I am,” she said.

Sable leaned against the wall looking bored. “What did you make him for dinner?”

“I made us both some chicken, Italian style,” she said.

“And you ate together?” Levac pressed.

Evans shook her head. “No, sir. I never eats with Mr. Pace. I make dinner and ‘e lets me eat there at his home. I clean up and leave ‘is in the oven to keep it warm.” She eyed them and asked, “What’s this about?”

“So, you didn’t see Mr. Pace this evening?”

“No, I only see him on payday and grocery day. A private man, is our Mr. Pace,” Evans said.

Levac made a note on his pad. “Thank you, Mrs. Evans. We’ll be in touch.”

He turned from the door to Sable, who was smirking.

“Fine. You were right. His alibi is bogus, let’s go try to arrest him,” he said.

“Finally!” Sable said with a grin.

Levac was following her down the corridor when he heard a scream from Evans’ apartment. He turned back to the door and tested the knob. “Ms. Evans? Are you okay?”

There was no answer. He looked at Sable, who drew her revolver and kicked the door hard enough it fell off the hinges. She followed it through and Levac was a scant step behind her, pistol in hand.

The apartment was the same basic floorplan as nearly every middle-class unit in the city. The door opened into a small foyer and closet next to a galley kitchen. Ahead was a small living area with two doors leading to bedrooms on either side and a short hallway and bathroom. It was also in the same color as most apartments: Beige, with muted carpet and off-white baseboards. You could have any color in Chicago, provided it was a shade of beige.

“Ms. Evans? It’s Agent Levac, where are you?”

Sable passed through the kitchen and checked the first bedroom while Levac circled the living area.

“Clear!” she called out.

Levac flicked his eyes as her and pushed the door to the master bedroom. It creaked open on a tidy bedroom that was more colorful than the rest of the apartment, decorated in shades of purple. The king-sized bed was covered by a black and purple duvet and the furniture was antique.

“Clear,” he said.

Sable’s lips tightened and she started down the hallway. Her hand touched the doorknob and she opened the bathroom door. It opened slowly and brushed against the head of Rosalie Evans who stared at them accusingly from a pool of her own blood. Her throat had been slit from ear to ear so deeply that her spine was visible inside the pale-lipped wound.

“Dammit,” Levac muttered.

He pulled out his phone and started walking.

“
Police emergency, this is Michelle.”

“Agent Levac, FBI. I’ve got a body at 1327 Elm Street, tenth floor, apartment H, bathroom. Send a coroner and the crime scene team,” Levac said.

He punched the button for the elevator as if it had offended him.

“
Officers and technicians will meet you on scene—
”

“I won’t be here. I’ve got a monster to arrest.”

He stepped inside the elevator and pocketed his phone. The doors were closing when Sable stuck her arm in them. They rebounded off her jacket and she stepped inside.

“Breaking protocol, Rupe?” she asked.

“You were right. We should have arrested him. But it doesn’t make sense, why offer her as an alibi and then kill her a few minutes later? He had to know we would be back.”

Sable leaned against the elevator wall and crossed her ankles. “Because the monsters are arrogant bastards. Smarter, faster, stronger, all that kind of thing. They aren’t human and think they are better than us.”

Levac shook his head. “There is more to this.”

The elevator opened and he stepped out, again retrieving his phone. He punched speed-dial and waited.

“This is Agent King’s office, Agent Daniels speaking,” Daniels said.

“Get King,” Levac said.

“I beg your pardon? King is resting,” Daniels said.

Sable snatched the phone out of Levac’s hand. “This is Tempeste. Get his ass up, we’ve got questions. Don’t make me come out there, Silver.”

There was a pause, then, “As you wish, Sable.”

Levac took his phone back and climbed into the passenger side of the Land Rover. Sable joined him behind the wheel and the engine rumbled to life.

“This had better be important Probationary Agent Levac,” King said.

Levac ignored the implied threat. “I need the details on this case. I’ve got two bodies, no motive and no weapon. You know more than you’ve told me, so read me in.”

“It’s above your clearance level,” King said.

“It isn’t above mine, Abraham, and we need to know what this is about. So spill it!” Sable yelled.

King took a ragged breath. “The ship, the
Crescent Star
that Saylor designed, it vanished in the ‘70s.”

“Right, we already know that,” Levac said.

“What you don’t know is it reappeared a few days ago. Two teams were sent aboard to investigate how that is possible,” King said.

“What about us? Why are we investigating Saylor’s death?” Levac asked.

“When the ship vanished in ’71 I did an analysis of the plans and found a variety of anomalies, particularly in the design of the lower decks. I also found that a variety of magikally reactive metals were used in the construction, metals used in altars and places of great evil. When the ship was declared gone, the investigation was shelved,” King said.

“And now that she is back, the investigation is on. So why investigate the death of Saylor and Sandoval?” Sable asked.

“I believe the key to stopping that ship lies in the murder of Demarcus Saylor. Find the killer and we find the solution. A team onboard was only part of the mission. It is a moot point, however. I’ve lost contact with the team onboard. I set an airstrike to destroy her by dawn.”

“You what? King, Raven is alive! You can’t just blow her up!” Sable snapped.

King coughed at length, then returned to the phone. “How do you know she is alive?”

Sable met Levac’s eyes. “Because I know. She’s my sister and I feel her. She’s out there, you have to give her more time!”

“I’m sorry, Sable. I cannot allow that ship to make port, if I am right about her, the damage would be catastrophic. That ship sinks by sunrise,” King said. “Finish your investigation, find out why Saylor was killed and perhaps Raven and Aspen will not die for nothing.”

The call ended and Levac threw the phone at the dash in frustration. “I can’t believe him!”

“Relax Rupe, he’s doing his job. And Raven isn’t dead yet,” Sable said.

“Are you, the Queen of Anger issues telling me to be calm?” Levac asked.

Sable’s eyes glowed in the dark, the angry slits of a master vampire. “I’m just as angry as you are. But I understand his reasoning, there is a bigger picture, here.”

Sable put the Land Rover in gear and pulled into the street. Levac took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Fine. Where are we going?”

“Pace. He knows more than he’s saying. If we can solve this thing, maybe we can keep my sister from becoming another casualty of this job,” Sable replied.

“I thought you didn’t care what happened to Raven,” Levac said.

Sable looked genuinely astonished. “I never said that! She’s my sister. Besides…”

Levac looked at her. “Besides, what?”

“I’m beginning to understand better what Mom did, and why.”

II

The North Atlantic, Aboard Crescent Star, Unknown

The
Crescent Star’s
maintenance corridors were cramped, dark and stale, lit only by Kane’s tactical light and the occasional red safety bulb flickering on and off. Raven led the way through the winding tunnels, her senses stretched to the max. Though they were barely below the waterline it felt as if they were far beneath the surface in one of the deepest pits of hell stalked by the devil himself. They reached an intersection marked in a coding system Raven didn’t understand, but she could smell diesel fuel coming from their left. She waited until Kane and Aspen were close behind her then started down the next corridor. They descended a short set of stairs, rounded a corner and walked into a rectangular chamber that didn’t belong on any cruise ship. The metal decking had been neatly pulled up and was now nowhere to be seen. Below was a Satanic pentagram, with one point longer than the others. It was made of some sort of red and black stone that reflected light and made it look as if it was shimmering from the inside with red light. In the middle of the chamber was an inverted cross made of black, riveted metal, like the girders of the ship. Each point of the cross held a metal shackle that could easily have restrained the strongest of men and, judging by the bloodstains, likely had.

Raven stepped into the room and lit a pair of flares that she tossed into the corners to provide more light.

“What in the name of all that is Holy is this?” Kane asked.

Raven glanced at him then back at the cross. “I’ve seen similar designs at crime scenes, but nothing this elaborate. This took planning and time. Asp?”

Aspen looked like she wanted to be sick. “Yes, love?”

“I was going to ask what you thought this was, what’s wrong?”

Aspen moved into the room. She was hugging herself and staring at the cross as if it might bite her. “I feel cold, I can feel the darkness in this room. The black magik in here is powerful and very, very old.”

Raven holstered her pistol and touched Aspen’s hand. “Are you okay? Do we need to go back?”

Aspen smiled and Raven could see she was fighting her fear. “No. It will be okay, let’s just treat it like a crime scene, huh? I think it is important.”

Raven wasn’t convinced that Aspen was okay, she could tell that Aspen was not only fighting whatever was around them, there was something else. The strange room was effecting her in a much deeper way than she was willing to admit. But Aspen wasn’t to be dissuaded from completing their mission.

Raven kissed her cheek then looked back at the floor. “This looks like the same stone that Strohm’s altar in The Dark was made out of,” she said.

Aspen cocked her head and looked at it with narrowed eyes. “It isn’t all the same stone. It’s a mix of black moonstone, onyx and tourmaline. I’ve never seen those stones in such large pieces.”

“What is the significance?” Kane asked.

Aspen hugged herself tighter, as if she were standing in a freezing gale. “They’re all stones powerful in magik, good for both channeling and holding generated forces.”

Raven dropped to one knee and looked at the stone more closely, almost touching it before pulling her hand back. It looked almost as if it was alive, responding to her presence. “So the red lightning is…”

“Magik. Yes. These stones are part of a powerful spell, even more powerful than the one used to try and bring Strohm back,” Aspen said.

Kane looked surprised. “I beg your pardon? Someone tried to bring Strohm back from the dead?”

Raven didn’t look up. “Yeah, my brother Xavier was his biggest fan and thought he should have another shot at the title.”

“Was?”

Raven raised her head, her expression neutral. “I cut his head off with my mother’s sword.”

“Fascinating. None of this is in your file.”

Raven stood and moved toward the iron cross. There was something that was calling to her, something familiar and it wasn’t the scent of blood. “I didn’t know I had one.”

Kane followed her, a look of curiosity on his face. “Indeed, you do. It was required reading for all upper level agents when you were brought on. But there was no mention of fratricide or bringing back your sire. What happened to Strohm, if I may ask?”

“I left his skull pinned to his altar with a sword,” Raven replied absently.

She sniffed at the blood and made a face. “Some of this is old, but a lot of it is fresh. Real fresh, no more than a few hours since it was shed.”

“I think I know why,” Aspen said.

Raven looked where she was looking and saw Lila Norman, or what had once been her body. Raven had seen her around the office a few times, she’d been a competent if unimaginative agent. Now, she was nothing but walking meat. Her skin was the color of old paper and her eyes were as white as milk. Her wrists, neck and thighs had been cut and bone showed within the wounds when she moved. She walked forward; as she did her mouth opened and the words, “
Salve, Raven Storm, suscipiat ad infernum
” echoed through the chamber in a voice like nails on a chalkboard.

“Great. It knows my name. Why do they always know my name? Am I wearing a nametag?” Raven asked.

Kane’s frown deepened. “Yes. It says
Storm
on your vest.”

Raven glanced at him in annoyance. “Sarcasm, Kane. It was sarcasm.”

Kane nodded slowly. “Ah. My grandchildren have tried it on me. I’ve never seen the point, to be honest.”

“I bet you’re a lot of fun at parties,” Raven groused.

Lila stepped closer, moving at a slow walking pace. “
Novissima hora est : non obstare hiemem!”

Raven drew her pistol and put herself between Aspen and Lila. “Any clue what she’s saying?”

Kane raised his sword into a guard position. “Miss Kincaid is correct, it is a bastardized form of Latin. Something about Hades and the end of the world.”

“Again? It’s the third time this year.”

Lila moved forward and opened her mouth again.

“Oh, shut up!” Raven snapped.

She squeezed the trigger and put a bullet through the Lila-thing’s left eye. The ‘special round did its work and the back of her head exploded outward, along with what was left of her brain. The impact knocked her off her feet and she landed on her back atop the strange tiles.

Aspen moved and knelt beside the corpse. “It’s hard to tell how long she’s been dead, but she died from exsanguination. At least, Lila did. The wounds are deep, but not deep enough to kill. She would have died in agony, but quickly.”

Kane joined her and thumbed back her eyelids to see the milk-white eyes beneath. “That is not all, Miss Kincaid.”

Aspen sucked her lower lip and looked at Raven. “Her soul.”