The news anchor, who thinks this lady is off her rocker, goes to interview another witness.
“He climbed right up the pier,” an adolescent boy tells her. “And he was mumbling something.”
“Did you happen to hear what he said?”
The boy nods. “Something about killing the half breed and bringing the body to him.”
The clip ends by saying the man was nowhere to be found once police arrived, and if anyone has any information, please call the Chicago PD.
I close my computer and look at my familiars. “Well, fuck.” Taking a final bite of my muffin, I take my computer into the office.
“I think we need to go to Chicago earlier than planned,” I tell Lucas, who looks up from his own computer.
“Why?”
“Demons, of course. Watch this.” Opening my computer as I walk, I replay the news clip for him.
“Half breed,” he sighs. “They’re talking about you.”
“Yep. This is the first time I’ve made national news.”
A few seconds tick by. “Fuck.”
“Funny,” I say, letting out a breath. “That was my reaction, too.”
Lucas looks from the news article to me and back down. “The demon is looking for you.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And he wants to bring your body to him.”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I ask, biting my bottom lip, heart skipping a beat. “We should find the demon and question him?”
Lucas frowns. “No.”
“You are thinking that.” I sit on his lap and drape one arm around his neck. “I don’t like it, either, Lucas, not one bit. I want to buy an overpriced crib tonight and pick out yellow bedding that doesn’t quite match the lavender paint in the nursery and is way too gender neutral, but it’s what I want.”
“Yellow is a good choice.” Lucas rests a hand on my thigh. “What do think we should do, my love?”
My heart swells in my chest, so fucking grateful to have a husband who not only will do anything to keep me safe, but respects me and what I think. “I think we should find this demon, catch it, and question it.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”“All the news outlets say the same thing.” I turn the volume down on my laptop and go back to the cabinet, pulling out the potions my friends and I made not that long ago. We’re getting ready to head out to Chicago, and Lucas is insisting I bring an entire arsenal of magical supplies. “Some guy came out of the water, ignored everyone around him, said he wanted to find the halfbreed, and disappeared.”
“Is this him?” Lucas holds up his phone, showing a photo of a man on a missing persons report.
“I think so?” I look from the photo to the black and white sketch of the man the police are now looking for.
“If it is, his name is Jason McDermott, and he went missing a week ago. He was involved in some shady business and had multiple warrants out at his time of disappearance.”
“So he was mafia-style dumped in the lake.”
“That would explain the chains,” Lucas says. “And if he’s been underwater for some time, he’ll be easily noticed.”
“How fast does a body decompose in water?”
“It depends on the type of water as well as the temperature of it. With Lake Michigan being cold, it would be several days before you started to see significant tissue damage.”
“Damn, I was kind of hoping he’d be all decaying and would be really obviously spotted.”
“He’s not going to look like a healthy, spry human, and with no blood flow to the dead tissue, it will start to slough off sooner rather than later, I’d imagine.”
“Gross.” I wrinkle my nose. “And if that is the case, the sooner he falls apart the better.” I get one more potion down. “I think I have everything I can take, though I really don’t think I’m going to need all this.” I hold out my hand and slowly exhale, concentrating on summon only a tiny flicker of hellfire. “It was enough to burn Bael. It’ll be more than enough to burn any lower-level demon.”
“You’re leaving the heavy lifting to me,” he reminds me.
“Of course,” I promise him, and my phone rings. It’s Easton, and I already know why he’s calling.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hey, did you—”
“See the news about demonic Aquaman? Yeah, I did. That’s what you were calling about, right?”
“Yeah, and good. Melinda just heard the guy was identified as Jason McDermott, who was involved in some shady shit and went missing a week ago.”
“Yeah, we came to the same conclusion. The guy was mafia-style killed and then a demon jumped his water-logged bones, and not in a fun way.”
“Nicely put,” Easton says.
“Thanks. Being classy is just one of my many skills.”
“I remember your skills being rather different,” he says, and Lucas growls.
“That was a long time ago,” I retort. “And if you ask Lucas, my skills have very much improved.”