The Bone Coven Chronicles: The Complete Series Page 28

“From werewolves?” I gasped, accidentally knocking the bag to the floor where the fries scattered across the concrete surface. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Dorian said.

  Werewolves. If this were true, it opened a whole new can of supernatural worms. Ones that I’d thought were under control. There were a few packs in the United States, but they were few and far between, and the wolves among them had been careful not to kill humans for decades. They mostly kept to themselves, and that was how they liked it. It was how the rest of the supernatural community liked it, too. Because vampires and werewolves? They didn’t get along. Werewolf venom was the only thing, other than a stake to the heart or a demon to the soul, that could kill a vampire dead on sight. Anything else only wounded them temporarily until their healing power patched up their immortal bodies.

  “When was the last time you came across a werewolf in Boston though?” I asked. “They mostly like to keep out of the city.”

  Dorian sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “Everything seems to be shifting, Zoe. Like I said before, I don’t think we can count on what we know to be true anymore.”

  “Is that why you said that?” I asked. “You weren’t just referring to the demons. You were talking about the werewolves.”

  “The Daywalkers, too,” he said. “I know you’re counting on the alliance holding, but the fight we had three months ago changed things between us all. We need to tread carefully where they’re concerned. I wouldn’t put it past them to attack us again, especially while our council numbers are so low.”

  With a sigh, I leaned back into the chair and ran my mind over what we already knew about the blood mage’s death. “It would explain a lot, wouldn’t it? The claw marks on her neck. And in her apartment.”

  “Plus, it was a full moon,” Dorian said.

  I leaned forward and frowned. “It all adds up, but I have a question. If she thought a werewolf was after her, then why wasn’t she wearing the fucking protection ring?”

  Dorian shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Dorian’s phone beeped from his pocket, and he stood with a frown when he glanced at the caller ID. He held a finger to his lips, answering with his standard, “Kostas here.”

  A few moments passed as he listened to the voice on the other end, his face clouding over with every passing beat. My gut churned, unease and dread slithering through my stomach like hungry snakes. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t good. Just like the past twenty-four fucking hours.

  When Dorian hung up the phone, he wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me from the chair. “We’ve got to go. There’s been another blood mage death.”

  Chapter 9

  Blue lights strobed against the dark sky as we approached the scene of the crime, which was about two blocks away from Descent, a goth club where I’d found more than one willing customer back in my con artist days. The alley had been sectioned off by yellow police tape, and the body was hidden from view by a beige tarp. We climbed out of the car, and Dorian flashed his federal agent badge at a woman holding a clipboard. She motioned us through without another word.

  As I glanced around us, confusion rippled through me. What the hell was going on? And how had we gotten a call? While the Bone Coven had worked with the human authorities from time to time, it was a rarity of epic proportions. Most mages, including those who sat on the council, very much did not want humans to know we existed, much less work with them when it came to a murder of one of our own.

  So, this was…strange, to say the least. And I felt uneasy as hell.

  “Dorian.” A man with graying hair at the temples and an FBI badge pinned to his suit approached us, clapping my partner on the back in an eerily normal display of bro-type greeting. “Long time, no see.”

  “Rick.” Dorian pounded the man’s back in response, his face loosening into an easygoing smile that looked alien on his typically stony face. “Good to see you. This here is my partner, Zoe.”

  “Your partner, eh?” The man winked. “You lucky dog. Bet she makes those long nights on surveillance a hell of a lot easier to take.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t I know it.” Dorian cleared his throat and shot me a look. Don’t make trouble, it said. But this guy was grating my nerves already, causing my shadow magic to swirl deep in my gut. “Now, tell me what we have here.”

  “Well, you told me to call you if we ever came across a murder of one of yours. Someone with one of those marks on his neck.” The man’s face turned from lighthearted to serious in less than a beat. “We’ve got ourselves one here. A man in his mid-twenties. The cause of death is strange, to say the least.”

  “Strange?” I asked. “In what way?”

  I ignored the look Dorian shot me. I was probably supposed to sit down and shut up in the presence of human authorities, but I was so caught off guard by all of this that I had to say something.

  “Well, it almost looks like a wild animal attacked him.” Rick frowned, emphasizing the lines around a tired pair of eyes. “There are five deep cuts down the neck. I probably wouldn’t have noticed the mark if I wasn’t looking for it. The wound is pretty nasty, Dorian. Left the skin in really bad shape.”

  “Thanks, Rick.” Dorian gripped the man’s shoulder, stepped in close, and dropped his voice to a whisper. “You were right in contacting me. That’s definitely one of ours. You think you can set it up so that we can take it from here?”

  “No problem.” Rick nodded and turned to go before holding his finger in the air. “Just remember. You get any more Frank Bennett cases on your hands? You send him my way.”

  “What’s he talking about?” I asked in a furious whisper when the FBI agent left us so he could gather up his crew. “What does he mean by more Frank Bennett cases?”

  “He’s the one who took your dad off the council’s hands, Zoe,” Dorian said. “He works with us from time to time. He hands off cases involving mages, particularly assaults or murders.”

  “And, in exchange, you give him people like my dad. That guy?” I curled my hands into fists. “Does this mean you helped put my dad into prison?”

  “No. Of course not. You know I didn’t become an Enforcer here until after all that happened. I had nothing to do with your father getting arrested. He did that all on his own.”

  I stared at him, anger boiling in my veins. My shadow magic rose up inside me, twisting and turning in my gut. The darkness crept into the corners of my eyes, whispering dangerous suggestions into my ears. Dorian was behind it all. He was working against you all this time. He wasn’t trying to help me at all. He was trying to hurt me, to tear me down and rip apart my life.

  I blinked, and as fast as it had risen up inside me, the darkness disappeared. Shit. It had been three months since I’d let it take over my mind, and I couldn’t let it happen again, regardless of how pissed off a random FBI agent made me feel. Dorian had only ever tried to help me. And he’d put up with a lot of my shit. I couldn’t let my shadow magic control me like that. If I did, I knew it would lead me to do something I would live to regret.

  Because I’d already done that once.

  After the authorities had vacated the scene of the crime, only then did Dorian and I ease further into the alley to crouch beside the body. Pressing my hand to the cool concrete, I braced myself. I knew what we’d see before we pulled the thick material aside, having witnessed what Sylvia Anderson had looked like only moments after her death.

  But that didn’t stop the horror from filling my gut. This man’s wounds looked just like the first. Deep claw marks sliced through soft skin. Blood everywhere, coating his hair and his clothes. Tears sprung into my eyes, and I clamped my hand tight over my mouth. How could someone do something like this? Even a werewolf? Despite their predator tendencies, they were still very much human. And they were aware of every move they made in wolf form.

  This kill might have been animalistic, but it was stil
l murder to its very core.

  I stumbled back from the body and forced my gaze up at the dark sky. I couldn’t bear to look at the warlock. Not anymore. “Looks like you were right about your wolf theory.”

  “Unfortunately,” Dorian said softly. “Though I wanted nothing more than to be wrong.”

  “What do we do?” I asked, voice cracking. “How are we going to figure this one out?”

  Dorian sighed and pulled the tarp further away from the body, examining the wounds despite his clear unease in doing so. His back muscles were clenched tight, and he gritted his teeth like he was on the verge of throwing up. But I knew it wasn’t vomit he was trying to hold back. It was his craving for the fresh blood that had been spilled onto the concrete ground.

  “The body is arranged the same way as the first, and the eyes have also been removed.” Dorian’s voice was tight but it was serious and focused despite his every urge to be anything but. “The claw marks on the neck are the same. Identical, really. That would be difficult to pull off, especially if the werewolf did this in a fit of rage.”

  “Doesn’t that suggest that it wasn’t a fit of rage then?” I asked, turning back toward the scene of the crime, which I found easier to look at now that we were approaching this from a more methodical—almost clinical—standpoint.

  Dorian nodded. “You’re learning fast. This was almost certainly planned ahead.”

  I took a step closer and pointed at the mark that could barely be seen underneath the deep cuts. “At first, I thought the claws were just used to make the kill, but what if there was more to it than that? What if the killer was trying to hide the mark? It’s really hard to make it out.”

  “Which means the werewolf was trying to hide the fact his victims are blood mages.” Dorian glanced up at me, beaming. “Good catch, Zoe. That didn’t occur to me.”

  “And, if that’s the case,” I said, continuing now that I was on a roll. Pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, and I wanted to show Dorian just how much I could contribute in solving this thing. “Was the werewolf trying to hide the blood mark because it’s important? Maybe there’s some kind of link here. Maybe it’s someone the blood mages know.”

  “That makes a hell of a lot of sense.” Dorian nodded as he pointed to the neck and then to the blood-filled sockets. “These murders were planned, and this wolf was trying to cover his tracks. The way the eyes have been removed? It reminds me of another serial killer case I worked.”

  “Serial killer.” I shivered further into my jacket. “Is that what we’re calling this now?”

  Dorian looked up and met my gaze, his face stony and serious. “Two bodies. The kills are identical. The bodies have been arranged almost theatrically. While it officially takes three or more murders to make a serial killer, the answer to your question is yes. I imagine that’s what we’re dealing with here.”

  I swallowed hard as I stared at the eyeless gaze of the blood warlock on the ground. “So, you think the wolf will kill again.”

  “Almost certainly,” Dorian said. “Unless we find him and stop him.”

  Chapter 10

  It wasn’t every day you discovered that you were hunting down a werewolf serial killer. Still reeling from the thought, I helped Dorian move the body from the alley and into the trunk of his car. Now that this case was ours to handle, we would take the victim to where the new version of the council had taken up residence. The body would be stored there until we had combed over the evidence, and eventually, we would transport it to the Blood Coven. Or, the Blood Hunter Coven. Whatever they were calling themselves.

  I personally didn’t feel all that comfortable riding around Boston with a body in the trunk of the car, but that was what my life had become these days.

  As Dorian shifted the gear into drive, a massive weight slammed onto the top of the car. The roof dented between us, and the harsh sound of crunching metal echoed like gun shots. Heart jolting, I stared up at the indentation just as another boom shook my seat.

  “What the fuck is going on?” I shouted as the roof took another heavy beating.

  “There’s something on top of the car,” Dorian growled through his teeth in an animalistic tone, sending my nerves skittering along my skin. Even though I was hyper-aware of Dorian’s vampire nature, I still never saw him succumb to it. He was always calm, measured, and in control. Seeing the rage boiling under the surface now sent a jolt of electricity through my veins.

  “No shit, Sherlock,” I said as our attacker slammed on top of us again, metal ripping and crunching. I grabbed for the dashboard, holding myself steady as the car tipped sideways before landing hard on the wheels.

  Dorian reached for the door handle and pulled his dagger from his sheath. And, for a moment, I swore I saw the flash of fangs within his mouth. “Stay here. I’ll take care of this.”

  He opened the door and leapt into the night before I could get a word in edgewise. Heart hammering hard, I watched as he bent his knees and launched himself into the air. Another boom shook the car as he landed on top, and a loud roar split the night.

  It was a werewolf. I knew it deep down in my gut without looking at the attacker on the roof. He’d seen us inspecting the body, and he’d come here to put a stop to our investigation, one way or another. And the another version of things certainly seemed to include both of us lying dead in the alley next to the blood mage.

  And Dorian was taking on the creature all on his own. He was strong. I knew that without a doubt in my mind. Certainly stronger than several warlocks combined. But I also knew that werewolf venom could kill a vampire with a single bite. Just because Dorian was a cursed vampire didn’t mean he’d be immune to that. In fact, it probably meant the opposite. The curse was a curse, after all.

  As another roar echoed through the alley, I made a spur-of-the-moment decision that squeezed my gut like a vice. I had to help him. Without thinking it through even a second longer, I ripped open the door and jumped onto the sidewalk, my dagger in my hands.

  My blade flashed underneath the full moon as I stared up at the fight raging on the roof of the car. Fangs, blood, claws, fur. It was a whirlwind of violence that moved faster than I could follow. One moment, Dorian was perched on top of the werewolf, his eyes dilated, his teeth glistening with blood. And the next, the werewolf spun on top, holding his claws high in the air. My heart and breath froze inside my body, fear rocking me so hard that I almost collapsed.

  This werewolf could kill my partner. The strongest person I’d ever met in my life.

  “Stop!” I shouted, bending my knees into fight-stance mode. I narrowed my eyes as the battle stilled, and the werewolf raised his head. He stared at me long and hard, his thick body heaving as he snarled his jagged teeth. I tightened my grip on my dagger and took a step closer just as the werewolf’s yellow eyes went red. Claws raised high in the air, he tipped back his head and roared.

  The sound shook the very ground beneath my feet. It was so loud that the entirety of Boston must have heard it. Dorian growled in my direction, launching to his feet with flashing eyes. His body brimmed with barely-contained anger, power rippling off his body like waves.

  “I told you to stay in the fucking car, Zoe.”

  “I wasn’t going to let you fight this creature alone,” I said, making a move toward the rear bumper. All I had to do was climb onto the back of the car, and we’d have the werewolf pinned. Sure, a single swipe of his claws could kill me in an instant, but I’d stabbed a vampire’s heart with this weapon. I’d just have to be quick enough to get a thrust in before he could launch an attack.

  The werewolf’s eyes were like laser beams, burning into me as I put both feet onto the bumper and placed my hands on the edge of the roof. But just as I was about to climb onto the top of the car, Dorian let out his own animalistic roar, sinking his fangs into the werewolf’s back. The wolf screamed in rage and pain, twisting and turning and thrashing his arms.

  He broke free. I braced myself for the wolf to turn
this way, to launch his own counter-attack. But instead, he dropped to the ground and disappeared in a blur, his furry body melting into the moon-drenched night.

  Dorian’s chest heaved as he lifted an angry gaze to where I stood half-perched on the rear of the car. “Zoe, I agreed to partner with you on the condition that you would do what I said. Not run half-cocked into a fight between a vampire and a werewolf.”

  “I didn’t run half-cocked,” I said, jutting out my chin. “I had my weapon ready. Thought it was a perfect time to put my training into action, what with the whole werewolf attacking you thing. You could have died, Dorian.”

  “No, you could have died,” he said, his voice harsh with emotion. “I can heal. You can’t. Not more so than a human.”

  “You’re forgetting that I know what werewolf venom can do to a vampire.” With a determined sigh, I pulled myself the rest of the way onto the car and settled down beside Dorian. “I’m your partner. A shadow mage. Even though I don’t have your healing powers, I’m not a helpless human. Sometimes, you have to let me help.”

  He lifted his head from his hands, the bucked metal creaking underneath us as he shifted to face me. “Yes, you’re a shadow mage, but you’re also one who refuses to use her power.”

  “Well, I would have used my magic if it meant I could save you,” I said quietly.

  “Oh, Zoe,” he said with a sad smile. “You wouldn’t have, but thank you for saying that. But there was no reason for you to do a damn thing. I’m wearing Sylvia’s ring.”

  He lifted his hand in the air, showing me the diamond-encrusted ring that circled his finger. The one the book said protected the wearer from werewolves.

  “Oh, shit,” I said, widening my eyes. “You should have told me you were wearing it. All I knew was that I couldn’t just sit in the car and not help.”

  “You’re skin and bones, Zoe. Fighting demons is one thing. Fighting violent creatures with claws the size of your head?” He shook his head. “That has bad news written all over it.”