Raised in Fire (Fire and Ice Trilogy 2)

Chapter Five

I could finally afford a car, but I still hadn’t gotten around to buying one. Instead, I took cabs or one of the rideshare services that were like cabs, only nicer.

One of those services, Lyft, dropped me off down the street from my house so I could check in with the local neighborhood watch, which consisted of Smokey, No Good Mikey, and occasionally ex-boxer Mince.

It didn’t take long for Smokey to come hustling my way, his face drained of color and a trickle of blood down his neck.

Alarm rolled through me. I picked up my pace, yelling out, “It didn’t scratch you, did it?”

“Reagan,” he said as he neared, out of breath. “Thank God. That thing was disgusting. I didn’t get pictures, but I can describe it in detail. Where are your eyebrows?”

“They flew away with that creature you probably saw. Did it scratch you?” I pointed at the line of blood originating from a small dot on his neck.

He absently brushed at his skin. “No. Some idiot mugger thought I had money. But the bird claws scraped at me. They didn’t draw blood, but I felt them. Why? Is that bad?” He pushed in closer and stuck his cheek out for inspection.

“If you’re still alive, you’re probably fine.”

“Wait,” he said, shadowing me down the street toward my house. “There are a bunch of police down there. Maybe you should sneak in through the back. I’ve been avoiding them.”

I shrugged. “I’m not worried about police. I don’t have anything on me they’d be concerned about.”

“Except your gun.”

“I have a license.” Illegally obtained, but nonetheless real, just like the papers that had legitimized me in the supernatural world.

Darius was nothing if not thorough.

“The sword?”

“I’ll say it’s a Lord of the Rings sword. No one questions extreme nerd-dom. It’s crazy without equal.”

“You are crazy without equal.”

He had a point there.

“Fine,” he said, slouching beside me. “So anyway, first I saw a huge bunch of birds. Little black birds.” He cleared his shaking voice. “Wait. Let me just start from the beginning.”

I listened as I closed the distance to my house. Once there, I leaned against the railing beside the two steps that led up to my porch while looking at the cemetery opposite us. In a normal neighborhood, there’d probably be a cluster of people hanging out around the cemetery gates, trying to peek in and see what had happened. Not in this neighborhood. People minded their own business where cops were concerned.

Glaring lights glowed from behind the stone wall. Yellow police tape crossed off the opening, and I could just see someone within standing sentry.

“Did you tell the cops what you saw?” I asked Smokey.

“No way. How could I? First they’d want to know why I felt it was my duty to police the cemetery. Then they’d want to know how come I couldn’t ID the killer. To the first question, I couldn’t very well tell them that I was on the lookout for witches or other supernaturals. And the last…well, we both know I’d sound insane. I haven’t even told Mikey. I don’t know what to tell him, other than that something is going on in the cemetery and you know what it is. Sorry that I had to throw you under the bus, but…”

“It’s fine. So you didn’t talk to the cops at all?”

“No. I don’t do well when questioned.”

“Good.” I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I was tired and hungry. “Well, I killed that thing, so you’re good. It won’t be coming back. But if you see birds like that again, get to cover, or get to where there are more people. It tends to pick off the loners, apparently.”

“I got really lucky, Reagan. Really lucky. It’s made me question…” He hesitated for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about moving out of this neighborhood. Vampires are one thing, but stuff like this…”

I patted his bony shoulder. “That thing killed two people in the French Quarter. Trust me when I say that of all the neighborhoods in New Orleans, you’re probably safest in this one.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I live here.” I patted him again and turned toward my house as a white Crown Victoria pulled up alongside the cemetery. I glimpsed the man getting out of the passenger side, did a double take, and then noticed the driver, who was stepping out of the other side of the car.

Damn it.

“Get gone,” I said to Smokey.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He was slinking away even as the younger detective, whose name was lost to the black hole, crossed the street.

“Long time no see,” the younger detective said with a smile. He was a handsome devil and he knew it. That cocky grin of his slipped when he stepped up onto the sidewalk next to me. “What happened to your eyebrows?”

I ignored his question. “You guys here to look at the murder?” I pointed at the cemetery as Sean crossed the street after him.

Suspicion crossed the younger detective’s face. “Yeah. What do you know about it?”

“My department ended the threat not that long ago,” I said, taking a seat on my porch steps. “There were two more victims in the French Quarter. I bet you’ll get the call soon.”

“Your department ended the threat?” he asked. “Aren’t you guys psychics?”

“Yeah. We consulted our crystal balls, so we knew just when to drop the piano out of the window.” I clapped my hands together. “Splat.”

“They think it’s a serial killer,” Sean said as the younger detective shifted in confused annoyance. “This was the first. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“A serial killer who does fast work. Of the three victims that I know of, yes, this was the first. Before this, though…” I shook my head. “I have no idea. The creature that did it is called an aswang. Clarissa gave me the basics after we left your last crime scene. It was old, hungry, and really gross. I have no idea where it might’ve come from, or what it was doing here.”

“Wait.” The younger detective held up his hand, blinking repeatedly.

“Is this what you do, then?” I gestured to the young buck without shifting my gaze from Sean. “You just take the new guy around until he finally pieces it together?”

“Piece what together?” the younger detective demanded. I could see his anger boiling just below the surface.

“Never mind, J.M.,” Sean said, not sparing him a glance. “Go check in with the others. Get a feel for what happened. We have a lot of ground to cover tonight.”

“No, wait. What is it I’m supposed to be piecing together?”

Sean straightened his shoulders and turned to J.M. Something in the older man’s bearing read: Do not mess with me, or I will rip your spine out of your mouth and beat you with it.

I grinned, because I hadn’t expected this type of alpha standoff from Sean. J.M., sure, but not Sean. He seemed too sweet.

I waved the whole thing away. “Let him stay. You might not think he’s ready, but it’s better to bring people on when they’re younger and can bounce back than when they’re older and easier to break. Besides, if you’re going to keep bringing him around to these kinds of crime scenes, he’ll be a target. He should know what he’s getting into.”

“Okay, this is starting to piss me off,” J.M. said in a rough voice. “I want answers, and I want them now!”

Sean turned back toward me slowly, his body taut. I had a feeling the two of them would have more than a few standoffs down the road. J.M. didn’t seem the type to blindly do as he was told. It was something we had in common.

“In answer to your question, Reagan,” Sean said, taking out his notebook, “yes, we wait until they start piecing things together. There are probably better ways, but I hate sounding as crazy as I feel.” He readied his pen. “Do you want to tell me what you know?”

I relayed what I’d heard from Smokey, telling them that he had seen the whole thing, but he shouldn’t be questioned by the normal police, for obvious reasons. I made a point of telling them about the bit of blood on his neck, and how it had gotten there, because they’d be sure to notice it. I then went through what I’d seen in the French Quarter, ending with the showdown.