As she read through it again she punched Ben’s number in on her desk phone. “Nichols,” he answered.
“Hey, it’s me. Thought I’d let you know the Librarian just tried to take off my head.”
“That’s odd.” He sounded distracted. “We haven’t had a report in over six months. I thought she was calming down. You weren’t foolish enough to try to take one of her books were you?”
Juliana glanced at the spell book. “No, but I took one in with me.”
Ben laughed. “Never take a book into the Library you intend to keep, Norris. You should know that. You are lucky you didn’t lose your head. I’ll send a team in to check on her.” He sighed. “Now, while I’ve got you, I need a favor. A pain in the ass lady keeps calling. I’ve tried putting her off but she’s not going to go away. Give her a call, see what the problem is.”
The last thing she felt like doing was dealing with a pain in the ass that thought her problems were more important than everyone else’s. But Ben was her boss and occasionally she had to do what he told her. “All right, it beats sitting around twiddling my thumbs anyway.”
“Thanks. If she doesn’t call back, I’ll owe you.”
She disconnected with Ben then picked up the receiver and dialed the number he’d given her. “This is Walker Norris, I understand you have a problem. How may I help you?”
“Are you going to help me or just brush me off like everyone else?” The woman’s voice grated on her nerves like a banshee screech.
“Let’s see what I can do. What’s the problem?”
“I want you to arrest my neighbor. He’s a werewolf.”
She swallowed a laugh. “Is that so? And has he threatened you in any way?”
“Why should I have to wait until he threatens me? His existence is a threat. I’ve lived in the neighborhood for forty years and never had to worry about keeping inside during a full moon before. Those things just aren’t natural.” She paused, no doubt waiting for Juliana to agree.
She didn’t know what kind of people this lady thought they had working at the Agency but she could guarantee anyone she sent over would scare the old woman a lot worse than the neighbor did.
“Well, ma’am...” She heard whistling coming down the hallway. She recognized that whistle. “What’s your address? We’ll send someone right out.”
“1346 Rose Lane. Just under the bridge.”
Juliana jotted down the address and hung up as Nathaniel stepped into view.
“They told me you were around,” he said and perched on the edge of her desk.
“What are you doing here?” She leaned back in her chair and propped her feet on the edge of the desk.
He gave her a sad smile and tapped his temple. “Appointment with the shrink. I’m not allowed out until the quacks clear me. Post-traumatic stress and all that. How I’m supposed to be stressed by something I don’t remember, I have no idea.” He narrowed his eyes and looked her over. “What I want to know is since when does a badass vampire like Thomas Kendrick get so protective of a pup like you?”
She gave him a little shrug. Her relationship with Thomas was complicated at best. She wasn’t sure she could explain it in a way that made sense to anyone else. She wasn’t sure it even made sense to her.
“So that’s how it’s going to be, huh? I’ll go ask Ben. You know he’ll have it all wrong. Up to you.”
“Go ask him. He won’t tell you anything. I think he’s afraid of Thomas.”
“Everyone is afraid of Kendrick.”
“It’s not like he’s a sociopath, he’s just Thomas.”
Nathaniel looked at her for a moment. “You really aren’t scared of him at all, are you?”
“Why should I be?” Thomas might have ripped her apart emotionally, but he’d never harm her physically.
He shook his head. “Never mind, crazy lady. You just go hang out with your vampire and leave the rest of us lowly minions to quiver in fear.”
“Speaking of minions...”
He sighed. “What do you want?”
“Ben gave me a call. Want to go? I promise I won’t tell.” She gave him her best puppy dog eyes. He might not be allowed out until he got a psych clearance, but he was like her, the waiting drove him nuts. Talking to an old lady wasn’t going to hurt him any and it would give him something to do. Besides, she needed to go back to the summoning scene and make sure nothing had been missed. Something of hers had been used to summon the demon and she needed to find out what it was.
When he held out his hand, she handed him the slip of paper with the address.
“I’m only doing this because I feel guilty about trashing your house,” he said, lest she assume he was only being helpful. He stood and gave her a little salute before heading down the hallway. She took the opportunity to hit him square in the ass with a rubber band.
After she and Jeremiah scoured every inch of the summoning scene and came up with nothing, she dropped the book back off at the Apocryphan for safekeeping. Then she spent the rest of the evening combing the town, looking for the demon. Alone. She’d tried to call Thomas several times, but his phone kept rolling to voicemail. It was well after two when she finally made it to her couch and it was almost dawn when her phone rang, awakening her from her much-needed slumber. If she ever woke up on her own again, she’d consider it a miracle. Cursed phone.
“Yeah?”
“We’ve got another one.” Jeremiah sounded as tired as she felt.
“Hold on.” She grunted as she shoved herself into a sitting position. “All right. What do I need to know?”
“Single victim. Male. He’s one of ours but they haven’t identified him yet.”
Her spine straightened, panic racing along it like imps to a fire. “Then how do we know he’s ours?”
“The demon left a message.” He sounded sick. “You better just come down here.”
“Where am I headed?”
“1346 Rose Lane.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest and she sucked in a painful breath. “Just under the bridge?”
“Yeah. How did you know?”
Nathaniel was dead and it was all her fault. The mantra kept repeating in her head as she waited for the portal. As she stepped through to the yard of a little blue house surrounded by chaos and a white picket fence. As she shoved her way past techs and agents, ignoring those that called her name.
She stumbled across the threshold and ran into someone. Hands grasped her upper arms, shook, demanded her attention. She looked up to find Jeremiah frowning at her. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
“Where?” she breathed. “Where is he?”
His brow furrowed and his frown deepened. He stepped to the side giving her an unobstructed view of the living room. The air froze in her lungs. Her heart slammed to a stop.She closed her eyes, put her hands on her legs and bent forward. She sucked in a tortured breath. Slowly, she raised her head, forced herself to face the massacre before her. There was no other word to describe it.
A shattered, ragged form hung on the far wall, a fireplace poker shoved through the mangled remains of his face to hold him in place. Nothing recognizable remained. No wonder they hadn’t identified the remains yet. A large patch of semi-congealed blood colored the wall behind him and pooled on the floor. Splatters decorated the furniture. But it wasn’t the body that made it hard to breathe, that made her rub her sternum with her knuckles hoping to ease the ache that had taken up permanent residence.