Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2)

Shalimar better be okay.

I made sure to keep Rafael behind me. If I didn’t like the sight, I wouldn’t let him in.

We moved down the hallway.

Horror hit my heart.

My heart boomed in my ears.

Someone had definitely been here.

A man yelled from the bedroom. “In here!”

Hurrying, I smelled the terror and death, before I stepped. But when I did, it hurt me to no end. Ahead of me, a dead Shalimar sat tied in a chair.

“No. No.” I backed up, turned around, and got in Rafael’s way. “Go back. I’ve got this.”

Other men came.

I let them pass.

Exhaustion filled Rafael’s eyes. “Move.”

“Go back.”

“Move.” He shoved me.

“No.” I stumbled back but hurried in front of him. “Let me go in first at least so—”

“You can clean her up?” Rafael rubbed his face with both hands. His fingers shook a little. “How bad is it?”

“I…I didn’t see enough—”

“But enough to know that Shalimar is dead?”

I swallowed. “Yes.”

“I’m going to see her.” Rafael pushed past me.

“You shouldn’t.”

No one should see someone they love, die this way.

I walked with him into the room. I wanted to hug him, hold his hand, and try to console him, but that wasn’t our way. And we could never do that in front of our men.

Slowly, we both took several steps in front of Shalimar.

Dear God. The Devil did this.

One of Shalimar’s arms lay on the floor next to her cut-off foot. The person had placed it in a neat line.

He’d enjoyed doing it.

Shalimar’s head drooped forward. It was still attached to her body, but barely. Her chin rested on her chest, which did not rise or fall. It was clear she was dead, and for the first time in a long time, that fact hit me.

It wasn’t that I cared for Shalimar. It was that I knew this would destroy my cousin.

Rafael should’ve stayed in the car. I could’ve hidden the horror of her death from him. I could’ve. . .

He remained silent, but Rafael’s face twisted in pain. He was close to crying, although he wouldn’t. He’d leave first.

Not able to look at him anymore, I walked forward. “The Devil did this. We’ll get him.”

Grigor had a specific way he enjoyed killing. He liked to dissect the person while they still breathed. He’d probably cut Shalimar’s arm off to get information. Then, he’d went to the foot. That had gotten him what he wanted. If it hadn’t, he would’ve cut off more limbs.

And then, he ended it with a cut to the back of her neck. Something had happened that he didn’t like. Louis used to call it the Devil’s tantrum stroke—a cut to the back or a knife in the heart. That was a pout for Grigor.

I looked away unable to take in anymore. I’d discovered what I needed. The Devil had come to Shalimar somehow. He’d come for something important—information, part of whatever Celina had stolen, or perhaps something had gone wrong with Misha and the exchange of money.

How the hell did he find Shalimar?

Silent, Rafael crouched in front of her and tenderly grabbed the only hand that was attached.

I could barely breathe. I tried to think of something to say. This had been unexpected. Never had I thought Shalimar was in any further danger.

Could we protect anyone?

Dried blood sat under the chair and crusted parts of her naked body. She’d been killed long enough ago for it to dry.

Tears fell from Rafael’s eyes and drew a line down his cheeks. He lifted her head and studied those eyes. They’d been frozen in terror. Her mouth remained wide open. Rafael’s voice stayed calm. “She was killed at least hours ago. Rigor mortis has set in. The eyelids and neck say it. . .and her jaw.”

Rigor mortis was the third stage of death. During that phase, the limbs stiffened caused by chemical changes in the muscles, postmortem. Between two and six hours one could see the signs of following death, rigor mortis begins with the eyelids, neck, and jaw.

Rafael slowly placed Shalimar’s half cut head down and rose. “They grabbed her a while after I left. Definitely after we left the hotel.”

“It could have longer.”

“No. Someone found her through me. They must’ve been outside the building while I left or had me monitored.”

It also meant the restaurant stop had cost us that moment. The Devil had been with Shalimar, while we’d been twirling our dicks on the other side of the city.

The Devil knew us all well. He would’ve recognized Rafael. But how would he have known that Rafael would go to Shalimar?

“I failed her.” Rafael walked over to the bed, pulled one of the white sheets from it, and brought it back to her. “I could never do the right thing, when it came to her.”

“Rafael.” I walked over to him.

He held his hand up. “Leave me alone.”