From the Shadows (Hunters #1)

Chapter 15

The screen showed images of a slaughter. The pictures were high resolution, showing the abraded skin, wide, fear-filled eyes, bodies torn apart by savage strength, the flesh and sinew ripped off at the joints. These people didn’t die quickly. They were tortured, made to suffer. And Diego knew who’d done it. There was only one thing he didn’t know.

“How?” he demanded, driving his fist into the laptop keyboard, smashing it to hell. Screw it, Biggs could afford new equipment.

“We don’t know,” Borne replied, his voice tinged with regret. “Maybe they came in through the sewers? Hell, they could have dressed themselves as caterers for all we know. Whatever it was, they were in and out in less than an hour, but the damage they inflicted was incalculable. Fifty-three dead, most dismembered or savaged. It looks as though the vampires may have sexually violated a few of the corpses—both male and female—though that hasn’t been confirmed yet.”

Diego scrubbed a hand over his face. Why would Cristobal do this? It made no sense at all. Well, other than he was off his fucking rocker. He’d learned through many years of doing bounty work, plus his dealing with the less savory elements of the paranormal world, that trying to suss out the motives of creatures—and humans—was an exercise in futility.

Plus, as Shay and Ranna had been telling him recently, there was good and bad in every group. Still, after the things he’d seen in his years, Diego wasn’t sure he believed it. Supernatural beings had… advantages over humans. Increased strength. Aggression. Heightened senses. Oh, and that whole insatiable-bloodlust thing that some species had. Humans had guns and knives and shit like that, but nearly anything extra-human would have them disarmed, sometimes quite literally, before they could even aim.

He kept poring over the pictures, the pain lancing through his heart of the images of the victims. He did his best to commit every face and name to memory, because he and the team would get justice for them.

“I want us to reach out to the Fates,” he said, anger building again.

Borne gasped. “Are you sure? That’s a pretty tall?—”

“I’ll do it,” Diego assured him. “They owe me one, and I’m going to collect.”

The Fates, contrary to their names, were not the Greek goddesses. They were a coven of women who each possessed precognition, the ability to see things that would happen in the future. Sadly, their skills were limited to a few hours at most, but any little bit of help they’d be able to provide could be the difference between life and death.

“Let me go with you,” Shay said from behind him. “This has to stop.”

“No. The Fates have some very weird habits. One of them is reading the future of anyone who comes into their domain. They see events only a few hours in advance, but a person’s lifeline? That they can trace to the end. And if you walk in, they’ll be all over you. They wouldn’t be able to help themselves.”

“So?”

Diego put a hand on Shay’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He needed to impress on him the risks of dealing with these creatures. “There are a lot of variables in someone’s life. Decisions they make on a daily—hell, minute by minute—basis that changes their destiny. Seeing the Fates will fuck with your mind. They’ll tell you with absolute certainty that you’ll die in a car crash forty years from now, and that might make you feel invincible. Then you’ll walk out and get crushed by a falling brick wall. Their abilities will work for this, because finding a group committing murder is a more generalized thing. Specific events, like a person’s death? Those are so much harder to read and predict accurately. Besides, they’re not aggressive, so I’ll be in no danger.”

Shay frowned. “Have you ever heard the phrase ‘too stupid to live’? It’s where someone in a book or movie does something that every single person reading or watching knows they shouldn’t do, but they go ahead and do it anyway. That kid attacked you, Diego. He gave you a warning that Cristobal was after you. Going alone is probably the stupidest fucking thing you could do.” He scowled as he turned to Martin. “You’re going with him.”

Martin’s eyes widened. “You don’t say. I didn’t know you were in charge.”

“I do say.” He smiled. “Because if you don’t tag along, I will.”

“Oh, is that how this is going to go? Guess Diego has a travel buddy. I get to pick the music.”

“Fuck no,” Diego snapped. “He likes that hippie shit from the sixties. To me, anything that isn’t classical is nothing but shrieking and caterwauling. No. Definitely not.”

“Really?” Shay seemed bemused. “You need to update your tastes in music to the twenty-first century. There have been some amazing artists since you were born. Well, reborn, I guess. One day we’ll go to a concert, and you can hear it for yourself.”

Diego winced. “I’ll take it under advisement, but I’m not making any promises.”

Shay waved him off. “Go visit your Fates. We need to put this crap to rest.”

Despite what had happened earlier, Diego’s heart felt a bit lighter after talking with Shay. He had a way that could help Diego see things from a different perspective .

He and Martin entered the garage. When the door closed, Sparks groaned. “What do you two want?”

It was always funny how he seemed to know who was in his space.

“Need a car. Driving to town to speak to the Fates about our current case. The vampires struck again and killed fifty-three people. That brings the total we know about to nearly two hundred, including kids.

Sparks’s nostrils flared. He had kids of his own and was a doting father. He reached up to take a set of keys off one of the hooks, then turned and tossed them to Diego. “Take the Demon,” he growled. “And find these fuckers and kill them.”

Sparks was an odd duck in a pond full of odder ducks. He never came into the big house, preferring to stay out in the garage and tinker on the cars because, he said, they were nice and quiet and didn’t talk back to him. Diego wasn’t sure how true that was. The man was a genius when it came to anything automotive, and Diego had a hard time believing he and the cars didn’t actually talk to each other.

“Thanks, Sparks. We’ll do our best to find justice for the victims.”

He clutched Diego’s sleeve. “You’d better.” His eyes softened. “For the kids, especially.”

Diego knew Sparks was a Domovoy, a being believed to be a mythical creature that was the personification of kinship. They were said to protect the well-being of a house and those who live in it, especially protective of children and animals by constantly looking after them. Since they couldn’t leave their area once they declared their intentions, Biggs had a house built on the property for Sparks’s family. His wife was a human, who Sparks absolutely doted on. Diego had seen her at a distance, but never spoken with her. He would need to rectify that at some point, especially now that he wasn’t starving.

“For the kids,” Diego agreed.

He and Martin got into the car. He loved the Demon. Zero to sixty in 1.66 seconds, top speed of 215 miles per hour. What wasn’t to be awed by? He didn’t think they’d need the speed today, but always better to be safe than sorry.

The trip to Chicago went quickly, despite the snarled traffic on the highway. Diego pulled into the lot of the nondescript All Seeing Palm Reading, Massage, and Tattoo Parlor. He shook his head in amusement at the combination of businesses, but the Fates were constantly busy, so there had to be something they were doing right.

Martin got out first and froze, his eyes flicking side to side. “Can you feel it?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

There was someone—or several someones—watching them, but Diego couldn’t pinpoint their location. With the large numbers of factories and warehouses in the area, whoever had eyes on them had a serious advantage. Ranna would have been a big help on this, as she’d be able to sniff out their stalkers.

“Let’s get inside.”

“No.”

Martin stopped. “What? Why?”

“We would be bringing it to their door. The Fates, and all those who are within, have done nothing to deserve the kind of pain we could be dropping on their doorstep.”

A grumble from Martin, but then he spun on his heel and headed back for the car. “I hate it when you’re right.”

And at the moment, so did Diego, because now he knew they were keeping tabs, and that scared the crap out of him.

The door opened and Ranna stepped gingerly over the threshold. A moment later, Hal was there, holding out a cup of what smelled like tea laced with brandy. She took it and gave him a smile.

“Thanks, Hal.”

“I’m so glad you’re home, Miss Ranna.” He reached out and put a hand on her arm. “And that you’re safe.”

Shay rushed to where she stood and stared at her. He wanted to hug her, but had no idea how bad her injuries were .

“Shay…,” she breathed out, then clutched him with one arm and dragged him into a tight embrace as she kissed his hair.

“Good to see you, Ran,” he whispered, overcome with the idea he could have lost a friend.

“I need food. Like a ton of it. Especially protein.”

He pulled away. “Of course. Let me get you something. Take a seat in the great room, and I’ll bring it out.” He turned to the stairs. “Jeremy? Ranna is home!”

A few seconds later, hoofbeats stomped down the stairs as he rushed to her. Shay was about to admonish him to be careful with her, but when he got to where she sat, Jeremy climbed on the couch and snuggled in beside her, his head on her chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked, fear in his voice.

“Yeah, I will be,” she promised. “Just need some rest and food.”

Shay realized he was still standing, so he turned and rushed for the kitchen. He was grateful when Ms. Connelly—Patrice, he reminded himself once again—had given him all that reading material when he started. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out the taco salad he’d made while Jeremy was sleeping. He took off the top and inhaled. It smelled so good, what with all the spices in it. He knew Ranna would love it. He grabbed some rolls and plant-based butter, then some silverware, put everything on a tray, and hurried back to Ranna, who sat snuggling Jeremy.

It was then Shay noticed the man who stood beside her. Tall and broad, with an extremely pale face that reminded Shay of chiseled stone. Everything about him screamed “don’t fuck with me.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I hadn’t noticed you before. My name is Shay, and I’m the majordomo here. Can I offer you something to eat or drink?”

He shook his head, his gaze locked on Ranna. “No, but thank you for offering. It’s more than Hal did!” he shouted. Shay was surprised it didn’t wake Jeremy, who still dozed on Ranna’s arm, his hands wrapped around it like he was fearful she’d vanish if he let go.

Hal reappeared, giving the man a disdainful look. “I’m sorry, sir. I tolerate your presence in our home as you are part of Ms. Ranna’s group, but your last visit here, you were very rude to me, and I simply won’t have it. An apology would go a long way, however.”

“An apology?” he sputtered.

“You were a dick,” Ranna whispered, still stroking Jeremy’s hair. “An apology is the least you could do. And if you don’t tone it down a lot of notches, hurt or not, I will gut you. Jeremy hasn’t been sleeping well, and I don’t want you waking him.”

The man’s cheeks reddened, but then he blew out a breath. “Yes, Ranna.” He turned to Hal. “I’m very sorry for my behavior, Hal. It was uncalled for, and you didn’t deserve my attitude.”

“Forgiven, sir. Did you want some tea?”

He nodded. “Please. And make it double whatever you put in Ranna’s mug.”

A smile. “Of course, sir. Give me a moment.”

“Shay, this is Jakar, our shaman. Jakar, this is Shay, one of the best people here.”

He dipped his chin. “A pleasure to meet you, Shay.”

“And you, sir.”

He smiled, and it looked weird and scary at the same time. “Jakar will be sufficient.”

“Thank you, Jakar. Now, can I get you something to eat? You seem exhausted. If you prefer, I can make up a room for you to get some rest in.”

He stepped closer to Shay and put a hand on his arm. “Thank you for your kindness. I think I could do with some sleep, at least if you’re sure. I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“No problem. It’ll take a few minutes. Have a seat.”

He didn’t sit, he dropped like a stone. With him being so pale and seeming to have no strength, Shay worried he wouldn’t make it to the bedroom.

He turned and made his way to Ranna. He hefted Jeremy from her. “He’ll sleep better under the heat lamps, I think.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?”

She stood, wobbled a bit, then righted herself. “I can do this.”

“Then let’s go. ”

Shay led the way to Jeremy’s room. He whimpered when Shay put him on the bed, but as soon as he was under the heat lamps, he curled into a ball and sighed contentedly. He headed out the door, Ranna pausing a moment to place a soft kiss on Jeremy’s forehead, then moving to catch up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked once the door to Jeremy’s room was closed.

She put a hand on the wall. “I should have died,” she said softly. “I’ve never been afraid before, but all those vampires crawling on me, using their claws to slice me open? Yeah, I was terrified. And it wasn’t due to the fight. Going out in battle is how all of us want to die. We’re like Klingons in that respect. No, it was because through it all, they smiled and laughed, even as I slashed through them. I’ve never seen any creature not show fear when they were so close to death.”

Diego had said something similar. Shay wanted to change the subject, because it gave him the creeps. “Why did Jakar come with you?”

She gave him a soft smile as she levered off the wall and continued following him. “He’s exhausted because he took on the bulk of my wounds as his own and is in the process of purging them. It’s a talent only the most learned shamans possess, and Jakar is top tier. As I lay on the table, he put his hands on me and I could feel my body knitting together, but I could smell his blood, too, as it seeped from the new wounds his body was developing. I tried to stop him, but his helpers held me in place, and I was too weak to fight it.” Her eyes were shiny. “If they hadn’t pulled him away at the last minute, he would have died just so I’d live. I’ll be off my feet for a few weeks as I finish healing. Jakar keeps saying he can complete the job, but I couldn’t live with myself is something happened to him. And I think Hal would be devastated too.”

Hal? “Why?”

“He’s always had a crush on Jakar, and I know the feelings are returned. It’s why Hal gives him shit. If anyone else had done what Jakar did, Hal would have forgiven them the instant it happened. But he likes needling Jakar. ”

That was sweet, in a weird way. “What did he do?”

“Came into the house with wet shoes and dragged mud and leaves inside. He took them off in the mudroom, but still managed to track some with him. Hal berated him for his carelessness, and Jakar responded… loudly.”

“That’s sweet.”

“You’d think that. Jakar is unwilling to take any role other than the dominant, and Hal won’t give an inch if he truly believes in something. The two of them butt heads quite often. Still, with Hal being a… what did he call it? Spiritual American, I don’t see how a relationship between them would work.”

“Love finds a way,” Shay told her, his face heating as he thought about his cock sliding in and out of Diego’s mouth.

“I suppose. Where are Diego and Martin?”

“They went somewhere to see someone they called the Fates.”

Her eyes widened. “No.”

“What’s wrong?”

She got up, grunting and clutching her ribs. “I have to go after them.”

He grabbed her arm, as gently as he could. “Sorry, no can do. Per Diego’s orders, you’re on bedrest. The most strenuous thing you get to do today is play Monopoly with me and Jeremy.”

Her nose crinkled. “Monopoly with Jeremy? I’d rather fight the vampires, thanks.”

“What’s going on that you want to go after them?”

“When the vampires were fileting me, one of them said that Cristobal was eager to see Diego again and the time was drawing near. From the way he spoke, it seemed as though they’d been watching him for a while now.”

And with that, a chill went up Shay’s spine.