Moon Sworn (Riley Jenson Guardian 9)

"Well, I'm making it mine." I frowned up at him. "What if we walk away and the victim could still have been saved?"

He tried grabbing my arm again, but I slapped his hand away. He growled in frustration and said, "This is not smart - "

"Damn it, Evin, if I can save someone, I will. I'm more than a little fed up with the other option."

Confusion flicked through his expression, which I suppose was understandable, given I wasn't entirely sure what I was talking about, either.

I followed my nose into a side street that was little more than dust, and past several houses. Ahead lay a grassed paddock. A small dam filled with muddy-looking water dominated the middle of the paddock and, beyond it, there was a stand of scrubby-looking wattle trees and shrubs. The blood scent was coming from that direction.

Evin's steps slowed. "Hanna, we really should get the cops."

"Then do it." I walked on.

He muttered something under his breath and dragged his phone out of his pocket, but continued to follow me nonetheless.

"Cathie?" he said, his voice seeming to echo across the overheated air. "It's Evin again. Look, we've scented blood in the paddocks behind the station. You might want to get either Harris or Mike out here."

I tuned him out, my gaze sweeping the ground. There wasn't any sign of a fight that I could see, and no indication of either recent tire tracks or footprints. Of course, there was also no reason that there should be. Just because this was the most logical way for pedestrians to come if they were heading for the few houses dotted beyond this paddock didn't mean whoever was lying either dead or near dead in those trees had actually walked this way.

I passed the dam and switched my gaze to the trees. The scent of blood was so strong my nose twitched, but I couldn't yet see a body. But blood dribbled down the trunk of one of the nearest wattles, gleaming wetly in the moonlight.

Evin's footsteps faltered. "Jesus, Hanna - "

I frowned and glanced around at him. His face had gone white. "What the hell is wrong with you? Anyone would think you've never seen a body before."

He glanced at me sharply, "Which sounds like you have."

"It's an everyday part of our goddamn job." My confusion was growing. Why was what I was saying and half remembering so at odds with how he was reacting?

Who was the disconnected one here?

"It's not an everyday part of my fucking job." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. Gold gleamed thickly amongst the red. "Look, Cathie says we should avoid disturbing the area too much. Harris is on his way."

"I have no intention of disturbing the crime scene." And no intention of simply standing back here waiting for the cops to arrive, either.

I kept walking. Evin sighed, and it was a sound of frustration if I'd ever heard one. Which I probably had.

The air underneath the trees was a riot of aromas. First and strongest was the metallic stench of blood, but under that ran a mix of vanilla from the yellow blossom puffs and the aromatic resinous smell of the smaller wattle shrubs scattered between the bigger trees.

And below even those, the scent so faint part of me thought I might have been imagining it, was the taste of anger. Of vengeance.

This murder had been planned, not accidental, if that scent was anything to go by.

I scanned the ground again. There were footprints here. Weird prints that resembled cloven hooves rather than anything human. Maybe our victim had been attacked by a goat.

The body lay in a small clearing in the middle of the trees. He was big-boned and rough-looking, his skin pale and flaccid, as if he neither saw much sunshine nor did much to look after himself. His head was bald, but thick black hair matted his chest, trailed down his stomach and ... my gaze stalled at his groin.

His genitals were gone. Penis, balls, and all, just gone. Hacked out of his flesh, leaving only a raw, gaping wound that still oozed blood - an indication this death hadn't happened very long ago.

"Oh, shit." Evin's voice was hushed, as if he feared disturbing ghosts.

"Someone really didn't like the way this man used his tool." I said it lightly, trying for humor but obviously not succeeding if Evin's expression was anything to go by.

"How can you joke about something like this?" He motioned toward the body with a hand that appeared to be shaking. "Someone cut this man's nuts off!"

"And maybe they had a damn good reason." It was absently said. There was something here, something I couldn't quite catch or explain ...

"And there'd better be a damn good reason for you two being here." The voice was deep and authoritative, and not one that I knew. "Especially when Cathie's already warned you to stay away from the crime scene."