Carnal Sin

after all; she could shut off the power to keep her sanity in this place of the dead.

I should have stayed with Rafe and Dr. Fielding. They’d gone to meet the M.E. who had identified anomalies in a brain similar to what Dr. Fielding found in the victims of the demon Envy. But a room full of human organs had sounded worse than the crypt.

Fern said, “I still have two of the bodies, but I don’t know how long I can keep one of them. The family is calling, it’s been two days, and the autopsy ruled heart attack, though we’re running additional tox screens because the detective in charge thinks it might be drug related. We don’t normally keep the body once we’re done, and the family wants to ship him back to Michigan.”

“Two-I thought you said you had three bodies,” Skye said.

“Two bodies, but I have photos from a third that came in last week. The body I called you about is scheduled for autopsy this afternoon.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m prepping him in an hour.”

“Would it be all right if we observe?” Skye asked. Moira suppressed a shiver at the thought of watching a body being cut open.

“I don’t see why not, but I gotta clear it with my boss.”

The first victim still in the morgue was a twenty-two-year-old who’d been found dead in an alley behind a local nightclub with his pants down around his ankles. No visible sign of death, and the first officer on scene had called it a possible OD. Not unlikely, Skye had told Moira, considering the prevalent drug use among college students. His alcohol level was only a fraction above the legal limit.

“Drugs are bad news, but add alcohol to the mix and there’s a brain-cell-killing cocktail that’s damn effective.”

Fern pulled the sheet off a corpse. “This is Craig Monroe, the twenty-two-year-old college student from UCLA.”

Skye said, “He was found partly naked in an alley behind a club?”

“Velocity, a club in Westwood.”

“Have you gotten the drug screen back yet?”

“Not the secondary screen. He was cleared of the obvious-no nose candy, no needle marks, his lungs were clear-not a smoker, legal or illegal. Nothing in his stomach but a few beers, nuts, and a well-digested pepperoni and mushroom pizza.”

Moira was never eating pizza again.

“Coroner is ruling a heart attack, but it’s by process of elimination. With fifty or so bodies coming through here each day, sometimes that’s the best we can do.” Fern motioned to Skye. “Help me turn the body.”

Moira stepped back. She wasn’t going to touch the corpse. The thought nearly paralyzed her. The fear was highly unusual, and she didn’t know why. Did it have anything to do with burying Father Philip last week?

Don’t think about that, don’t go there, don’t remember that he’s dead. That he’d been in a place like this.

She turned away and breathed deep, calming breaths. That made it worse. She had sharp senses, and couldn’t help but breathe in the preservatives the coroner used to keep the dead from rotting. And the slow decay in the cold room. And the vile antiseptic that kept the place as sanitary as possible with hundreds of dead bodies lined up like B-movie zombies ready to rise and conquer the world.

You’d better stop it, girl, or you’re going to puke all over the place.

Right. Big, bad demon hunter Moira O’Donnell scared of a couple hundred corpses. She was okay. If she repeated the mantra enough, maybe she could buy in to it.

She heard them moving the body behind her and couldn’t block out the sound. She closed her eyes.

“Dammit,” Skye mumbled. “Moira, look.”

Moira forced herself to open her eyes and turn around. She tried to avoid looking at the bluish-white skin, and focused only on the demon’s mark on the dead guy’s lower back.

“See? The birthmark is freaky on its own, but it matches the photo I sent you, and it matches the mark on the new guy,” Fern said.

“Can we see the new corpse?” Skye asked.

“It’s the same, but if you want to, sure.” She gently rolled the body back to its original position and covered it again. They returned to the front of the crypt.

Fern removed the sheet and turned the body attached to the tag that read Erickson, G. followed by a number. The mark on Erickson’s body was exactly the same, in nearly the same place. “So what is it?” Fern asked the question she’d been itching to ask from the beginning.

Skye looked at Moira. “It’s not identical to the others.”

“Of course it is,” Fern interrupted. “Just like the stiff over there and the photograph.”

“I mean to the bodies in Santa Louisa.”

“So you have seen this before?” Fern was curious. “What does it mean? It’s not a tattoo; I can find no ink in the skin graft. But we’re considering a type of caustic material may have caused the mark, like a brand, but there is no dead skin to indicate a burn. And then-”

Two men entered the crypt and swiftly strode toward them. One was black and broad, well over six feet tall; the other, of average height, was a white guy with an athletic build and a pissed expression across his GQ face. They both wore plainclothes with a badge on their belts and guns at their side.

“Takasugi said you brought in another cop to view my body? Without my permission?” GQ said.

Fern bristled but didn’t back down. “Detective Nelson, I followed morgue protocols.”

Skye said, “Ms. Archer didn’t know that I was coming down. She spoke with my medical examiner, and I came with him to verify information that may be related to one of my cases.” She stepped forward and extended her hand. “Sheriff Skye McPherson, Santa Louisa County.”

“Detective Grant Nelson; my partner, Detective Johnston.” He shook her hand, glanced at Moira, then looked at the uncovered body. “What’s that tattoo? I haven’t seen a gang tat like that. Jeff?”

Detective Johnston shook his head.

Nelson said to Skye, “Proper procedure would be you calling me or my superior if you want information on a case, not dropping by the morgue. Long drive just to look at a tattoo when we could have sent you photos.”

“I called the Sheriff’s Department,” Skye said, “as a courtesy because I didn’t know anything about the case or who had jurisdiction.”

Fern stood up to the cop, though she couldn’t be more than five foot two. “I called Santa Louisa. And it’s not a tat. It’s a birthmark.”

“You tested it? I’ve never seen a birthmark like that.”

“No ink, though I’ve sent the grafts to the lab. But the odd thing is that the birthmark matches the college student who came in yesterday, and the guy last week who died while in custody.”

“What guy?” Nelson said.

“Galion.”

Nelson blanched. He held it back well, but Moira was watching him closely. She was trying to gather the courage to open her senses again. She didn’t know if he was just a powerful personality or if he was driven by something supernatural. This cop may not have worked the second victim’s case, but two out of three? Warning sirens shrieked in Moira’s head.

Nelson turned to Skye. “And you know what this is?”

Skye didn’t say anything for a moment, and Moira couldn’t blame her. What could she say? That their victims had been touched by a demon and that had likely contributed to their death?

Skye cleared her throat. “I’m not sure. But I had four bodies with similar marks on their backs.”

“Naked men?” Nelson asked.

“No.”

“Then it’s not the same-” He cut himself off.

“You were going to say killer,” Moira said.