The first few pages of the book tell me pretty much what Dina did at her store. Blood sacrifice is rarely a brutal thing and only done by consent, and even then, it’s a prick to the finger or something, not a full-on attack on the sacrificer. Same with the sexual side.
I don’t understand it. I mean, I don’t really understand religion as a whole, but whatever. Satanism doesn’t really seem that dark at all—just another kind of belief.
I take a deep breath and tap my pen against the surface of the desk. I flick through the pages in the hope that I can get some information on the markings.
A page full of runes draws my attention, and I turn back to see them.
Chills run down my spine.
I scribble runes at the top of my page and grab the case file. The markings Tim pulled for me are here with Annabelle’s added beneath. Comparing the images, I draw in a deep breath.
They’re here. Every last one. And then more.
“Hello?”
“Holy sh—” I catch myself just in case that’s a client.
What a client is doing here unannounced this early is a question unto itself, but still. I have to be prepared for everything. In my yoga pants.
“Hi. Sorry. I wasn’t expecting—Oh, Alex.” I stop when the see the dark-haired man standing in my hallway. “What’s up?”
Satanic runes and Alex.
Saturday, stop trying to be Monday. It doesn’t look good on you.
“Am I interrupting something? Your workout perhaps?” he teases, glancing at my feet. At least, I hope he’s teasing.
Because I’m barefoot. Shit.
“No, no. Just came in to do some work. Can I help you with anything?”
“I heard Brook Meyers was arrested. Just being nosy more than anything.” He smiles sheepishly. “Plus, I heard such great things about your business that I wanted to stop by. I’m surprised to see anyone here.”
“Ah. Yeah. I tend to work when I’m stressed, which ironically makes me more stressed, so I work even more. I’m just through in the meeting room.” I wave toward it. “Can I get you coffee or anything?”
“No, no.” He glances over my shoulder toward the room. “I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy.”
“Just research. You’re welcome to stay.” Please don’t though.
“If you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.” Dammit, Noelle. Damn your fucking Southern hospitality. Just tell the man to fuck off.
I sit back down at the table, and he hovers over my shoulder. Now, I really am a little scared of him.
“Interesting research,” he says quietly. “Related to the murders?”
“No, I regularly research this for fun. I told you my grandmother is Catholic. I’m trying to send her to an early grave,” I reply sarcastically.
“From the rumors around town, that’s believable.” He shoots me a small smile. “I know some things about this. Maybe I can help.”
I gesture to the chair next to me, and he sits.
“How much do you know about the murders?” I ask, slightly hesitantly.
I don’t like him. I don’t trust him. But if he can help…
“Probably more than the rest of the town.” He smiles.
“You know how they were killed?”
“Sure do.”
“So the markings on their bodies. The…runes. If the girls were killed for sacrifice, then they can’t have good meanings, right?”
When he doesn’t answer, I shake my head.
“Never mind. Sorry. This stuff is kinda fucky.”
“Actually, you’re right. These are the runes?” He points at Tim’s hand-drawn runes.
I nod.
“Okay. I spent some time studying this during my travels. There’s a name for the collection—the Runic Kabbalah. They have several uses. They’re primarily used for healing and good juju.”
“Juju? Is that a technical term?” I smirk.
“Hush now,” he snorts.
Yeah, I didn’t think it was.
“One of the uses of runes is for black magic. Balance and all that. Like this one?” He points to a rune that looks like a capital X. “This is called Gebo. In black magic, and this kind of killing, it represents pain and sacrifice. And this is Fehu.” He taps the one that looks like a capital F, except the horizontal things are tilted upward. “This breaks the spirit, thus allowing a demonic one to filter through. This one? The one that looks like a thick capital I? Isa. It’s a binding rune that induces paralyzing fear but calms hysteria.”
“Isn’t that kind of working against itself?”
“You’d think.” He lips twitch. “They all have meanings, and the combinations they’re used in says a lot. It looks like, for the most part, that they’re used to silence the victim while they’re being raped and killed.”
Combined with the trippy delusions and hallucinations of belladonna…
“Charming.” It comes out scratchy. “There were nine on each victim. Why nine? It’s a random number. Is that significant?”
“This.” He points to a drawing that resembles a capital H, where the connecting line is diagonal. “It’s called Hagl, and actually means nine. Violent loss and pain, too, but yes, nine is significant. It’s the German number of power and also a number of Satan. But it’s also the main number of chakras in the body. If you read that”—he points to the book—“it will tell you about the chakras and their purpose in Satanism.”
What in the heck is a chakra? Sounds like a spice.
“Wait…” I whisper, a chilling thought washing over me. “Do Satanists recognize the holidays like wiccans and those types do? Like Halloween—”
“Samhain,” he chuckles.
“Yeah, yeah, that. Sounds like it should be in a sandwich, but whatever.” I shake it off.
“Yep. They’re significant dates.”
I lick my lips, my lungs burning on my deep, slow inhale. “And the summer solstice is one of those dates, right? And that’s in ten days.”
Alex stills, his dark eyes cutting to mine. “Yes,” he confirms, drawing the word out. “The summer solstice is a notable date for Satanists. Easier to contact those on another realm…like the devil or a demon.”
Oh no. Oh no, oh no.
I don’t want to say the words out loud.
I don’t want this thought to be real.
“Nine,” I whisper. “Nine runes. A solstice. Rapes. Sacrifies… Oh my God, Alex.” I cover my mouth.
Silence lingers between us for a long moment. My stomach churns violently, and the smell of my coffee only makes it worse.
“What if whoever is doing this won’t stop at three bodies? What if they want nine?” The words tumble from me. “What if—what if this is deliberately thought through and planned? Oh my God.”
“If that’s true”—his dark eyes, like black opals, pierce mine—“then you’re gonna need to say His name a heck of a lot more.”
I slowly walk around the fair. Ever since Alex left my office this morning, I’ve been on high alert for everything. I have no idea what’s happening at the police station, and I don’t want to know.
I can’t work with their restrictive methods. I never could. My mind has always been faster than they allow—even when I was in Dallas.
The thought that another six women could die is terrifying. What I really, really need is to speak with Dina. I need to know if she thinks there could be some weight to my theory. Despite Alex’s help, I still don’t trust him—hey, the man has a crazy amount of knowledge about Satanism—so I packed up immediately after and all but ran him out of my office.
Now, I’m here. In the place where it all seems to be coming back to. Or where the information can come from, at the very least.