I pulled to a stop at the address he'd given me, and felt the sickness rise. It was one street over from Mary's, and almost directly behind.
The evil soul hadn't left, as I'd presumed. He'd simply found himself another victim.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath but it didn't do much to ease the queasiness running through me, I didn't want to go near the place, I really didn't. Rut I forced my feet toward the house. Whatever had happened in there was my fault, and the least I could do was face the woman's soul and apologize.
Cole appeared as I neared the front door, his features as grim as I'd ever seen them. "This one is nasty."
I shoved my hands in the pockets of my coat to hide their trembling. "Every one of these murders has been nasty."
"This one reaches a whole new level." He handed me a pair of slip-on foot-covers, and my stomach began to churn even harder. "There's only one person involved in this."
"What?"
"No husband," he said grimly. "No boyfriend, no lover, no significant other. Just her."
"But how is - "
He held up a finger, stopping my words. "Come and see."
I slipped the covers onto my shoes, then grabbed a pair of gloves, pulling them on as I stepped into the house. Like Mary's house, this one had a long hallway, and the bedrooms were all directly off it. The kitchen and living spaces were down at the far end of the house.
Our footsteps echoed on the gleaming floorboards as we walked. The smell of blood and fear stung the air, but mixed within those scents was the reek of anger. It was dark, that anger, dark and deep.
Our avenging sould hadn't gotten what he'd wanted, so he'd unleashed his fury on someone else. Someone who hadn't deserved it.
I stepped into the living room then stopped. The bird-shifter knelt near one of the walls, taking samples from the smears of blood that rained across the room. Cole's other assistant was carefully bagging the blonde hair that was scattered like pale snow all over the floor and furniture.
I gulped back bile, and looked to my left. The woman lay in a crumpled heap at the base of the bloody, smashed-in pantry. Her arms, her legs, her body - everything had been wildly slashed, and the offending knife was still clenched in her left hand. It was hard to say if her face had borne the same sort of self-mutilation, because there was nothing left of her face to sec. It was smashed beyond recognition, broken into so many pieces it resembled pulverized meat. There weren't even eyes. Somewhere along the line, they'd been gouged out.
My gaze went to the wall opposite, then back to the pantry door. Based on the blood pattern, he'd run her face first into one, then the other, back and forth.
I briefly closed my eyes and took a shuddery breath.
My fault.
All my fault.
This bastard had to be stopped before he could kill again.
"Death happened just after one last night, didn't it?"
Cole looked at me. "Yeah. How'd you guess?"
"Because I stopped the thing that caused this from taking the life of the woman who lives behind this house."
He frowned. "What thing?"
"it's a spirit," I hesitated. "A very dark and angry spirit."
He studied me for a moment, bright eyes perhaps seeing more than I wanted him to. "You can hardly be blamed for not stopping a murderous spirit. That's hardly a guardian's field of expertise."
"But I could have guessed he'd do something like this." His need for blood and revenge had simply been too great. I should have known that - after all, I'd felt the force of it, Kelt the fury in him.
Cole snorted. "You can't be held accountable for the bloody intentions of those you track. Get that thought well and truly out of your head, or you won't last long in this job."
I smiled grimly. "That could be a good thing, you know."
"Not if the little men with white coats come calling." He nodded toward the stains on the wall. "Whatever this thing is, it's got a mean temper. I'm not exactly psychic, and even I can feel the anger lingering on the air. I've called in one of the magi."