blood, careful to keep her boots out of it. Agency standard issue, they were enchanted to avoid crime scene contamination. They would leave nothing behind, not even a print, and they wouldn’t pick anything up either. That didn’t mean she relished the thought of standing around in body fluids.
A tech dangled a pair of gloves in front of her face. She snatched them away and put them on, snapping them into place. “Is he done?” She gestured to the photographer standing at the perimeter of the room.
When Jeremiah nodded, she began cataloguing what she saw. From this distance, the gender became easier to determine. “Based on the clothes and hairstyle, I’m guessing the victim is male.” Jeremiah recorded every word so there was no need for her to write anything down. “There’s not enough left of either the chest or the face to make a determination based on physical attributes and I’m not checking anywhere else.”
A stifled laugh came from her left. The corner of Jeremiah’s mouth twitched as he tried not to smile.
“Victim is approximately five-foot seven and lean. Has...” She reached forward and grasped a chunk of hair, twisting it in the light to ascertain the color. “Blond hair. Dressed in ripped jeans and black sneakers. Also wearing a T-shirt, appears black but with the amount of blood I can’t be sure. Denim jacket.”
She had a brief flash of someone watching her house, someone without a signature and she shook her head to chase the thought away.
“What is it?” Jeremiah asked.
She started to explain, then shook her head again. “Nothing.”
“It’s never nothing with you. Talk.”
“I thought someone was watching my house earlier, but when I went outside to find them, they weren’t there.” She looked up and met his eyes. “No signature, nothing.”
His eyes widened. “Was it our vic?”
“I didn’t get a good look and I’m not sure there’s enough left to identify even if I did,” she said.
“So what made you think of it?”
“I’m not sure. The signature thing maybe. My innate paranoia most likely.” There was no reason for a demon to be watching her house. None at all. She clung to that and focused on what she knew; she had a dead body that had been killed by a demon.
Peeling off her gloves, she stood and stepped away from the body, wanting some distance. She put on her glasses and opened her mind, letting her gift flare to life. The body had no signature, but nothing truly dead did, so that wasn’t a surprise. Her gaze darted around the room, searching, seeking. She picked up a signature that didn’t belong to anyone in the room. It was faint, but there. “Any dark fae been in here?”
He frowned in thought. “No one besides you.”
“Either the victim was one or the demon jumped from the victim into the dark fae. Either way one was involved. I’ve got the signature.”
Demons preferred to stay with one host as long as possible, but they could jump from host to host as often as necessary to avoid detection or capture. Unfortunately, their hosts sometimes ended up looking as bad as the victims did.
Despite her conjecture that the victim was demon-ridden at some point, it was possible he left the trail after the demon jumped. Unlikely, but it was important to examine every possibility. The fae would have to possess a large amount of power for the signature still to be visible. The demon wouldn’t voluntarily leave a host with that much power. Unless it found something better.
Even if the demon had jumped into the dark fae, knowing it wouldn’t help them much. Dark fae were as varied in their appearance as the beasts of the animal kingdom. Some had teeth and claws, wings or antennae and others looked as human as Juliana. And there was no less variety when it came to abilities and power. Some could barely summon a light orb to see in the dark and others had nearly toppled kingdoms.
Unless they cleaned up after themselves, it wouldn’t take long for someone to come across the summoning circle. That would be when they’d get their best information, their best leads. If she could figure out who summoned the demon and why, she’d be able to find it. “Find out what the vic is for sure. If he’s not fae, start canvassing for the new host.”
Jeremiah ran a hand over his bald head. He was a fire elemental and the natural heat of his body kept hair from growing anywhere on it. He didn’t even have eyelashes. “It’s not much, but it’s a start.”
“I told you, I’m no good with demons.”
“You’ve got the best record against them of anyone in the Agency.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” She’d faced exactly two demons. The past incident hadn’t ended well for her or the host.
He grinned and white teeth flashed against red skin.
She shook her head. “Not that you need me telling you how to do your job, but I assume you have underlings out looking for witnesses?”
“Not that you need me telling you how to do yours, but you should have asked that as soon as you arrived,” he chastised. “And yes. They’re out. For all the good it will do. We’re in the middle of a commercial and industrial area. No one ever sees anything anyway.”
“I’m going home. Let me know when there’s something to hunt.” She stepped out of the warehouse and into the rain. More mist than drops now, it made her shiver when it hit her skin. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and let the moisture coat her face. It’d been a hell of a night.
For the moment she’d done all she could by identifying the perp as a demon and naming a possible species for the current host. If anything else turned up, Jeremiah would let her know. The skin at the base of her spine tingled. Someone was watching. She ran a hand over her face and flung the moisture away before straddling her bike. After a discreet adjustment of the mirrors, she could look behind her without being obvious. A small figure crouched at the edge of a roof. Her gift was still on but she saw no signature, not even a faint one. “Great fricking canvas, guys.”
She pulled out her phone and called Jeremiah. “Stroll out here and have a word with me for a moment.” She kept one eye on the figure in the mirror as she slipped the phone back into her pocket. It didn’t take long for Jeremiah to step outside, his shoulders hunched against the cold mist.
He hurried over, keeping his head down.
“We’ve got company,” she said. “Behind me to the right. On the roof.”
“Spectator?”
“Think I’d call you out here for that? Unless it’s got an extremely weak signature I can’t pick up from here, I’d say it’s our demon.”
He frowned. “Why is it still here? Kill’s done. What does it want?”
“Why don’t I go ask it? You know the drill. I’ll go up, make contact. You get a perimeter set up on the ground.”
He pressed something into her palm before stepping away. She glanced down to find a clip in her hand. “Blessed ammo,” he said with a crooked grin.
She patted the side of the bike. “Drop me off at the alley.”
The Ducati purred to life beneath her. After making a slow u-turn, it sped down the street stopping at the opening of the narrow alley between the buildings so she could hop off. The bike disappeared from view, and she found herself wishing she was still on the back of it. She’d see it at home later. The darkness enveloped her as she made her way for the door at the far end of the alley. Leaning against the wall beside it, she replaced the clip in her gun.
Regardless of what she’d told Jeremiah, she hoped to find a gawker with a weak signature. Then she could go home and go back to bed. Without her blade, she was ill equipped to handle anything but a low-level demon. Unfortunately, she left it in the armory when she returned from the troll hunt, too tired to clean and sharpen it herself as she usually did. She sincerely hoped her laziness didn’t come back to bite her in the ass.
The small door didn’t budge when she tugged on the handle. She ran her fingers over the lock. “Open.”
The click of the mechanism echoed through the alleyway. She eased the door open and stepped inside. Soft lights illuminated the hallway, giving her just enough light to see and casting just enough shadow for something sinister to hide in. She listened for any sound to indicate she wasn’t alone. Nothing.
Stairs ascended into the darkness at the end of the hallway. She kept her back to the wall as she eased toward them, checking doors as she passed. All locked. She wasn’t going to take the time to unlock and search
