Scarred (2 page)

“Do you know it's the same guy?” I asked, all too aware of the answer.

“We do. Everything fits the profile of the other cases, but we think we may have a lead this time,” he added, looking more hopeful than he just had. “The murder took place near the marina. One of the owners down there has a private security cam on his boat. He's sent in the footage and the boys are going over it now. The Feds have been called in for assistance. With any luck, we'll have a picture of him soon.”

Every ounce of blood in my face drained away―it pooled quickly in my stomach, making me nauseous. If the crime was caught on film, the Portsmouth Police Department was in for a lot more than just a picture of the Rev. I needed to call Sean.

“Ruby? Ruby, you okay?” Alan asked, looking concerned. “What's wrong?”

“Sorry,” I said, pushing my chair back as I rose from it. “I don't feel so good. I think I had too much to drink. I'll be right back.” Grabbing my purse, I walked quickly to the powder room down the hall. I locked myself in and turned on the light. My nervous system was in total panic mode, and I was sweating by that point, a slight dew glistening on my forehead under the vanity lights. As my belly churned, it threatened to spill the contents it had collected throughout the evening. The wine was not to blame.

The images of the murder that could have been caught on that video evidence ran over and over through my mind. Disturbing as those were, they weren't the worst part of all. My mind jumped ahead to a potential future—to a room full of slack-faced middle-aged men wearing FBI windbreakers and khaki pants, holding extra-large coffee cups in their hands. They were all standing around a single computer monitor, which clearly displayed every intimate detail of the murder in a grainy black and white picture show. When the finale came, those coffee cups all simultaneously fell as the Feds watched the suspect up and vanish from the camera.

A large black wolf stood in his place.

2

I had to physically shake my head to bring my consciousness back to the matter at hand. Digging through my purse for longer than time allowed, I finally unearthed my phone and dialed it frantically.

“Hey, I was just going to—”

“No time, Sean. We have a
huge
problem,” I blurted out, cutting him off. Remembering where I was, I quickly lowered my voice. “Actually, we have
two
.”

Sean was the head of the Petronus Ceteri, a brotherhood whose sole purpose was to maintain the balance between the human world and the supernatural one. It would be
his
responsibility to make sure that nothing caught on the marina video would ever come to light. He and I had a tenuous relationship, spanning over a year or more. It was both complicated and made simpler by the death of his mate, Sophie, months earlier. Our love was unnatural, considering that my existence called to the mercenary within him, but it was there nonetheless. We'd muddled our collective way through a kidnapping, murder attempt, and, most recently, my being framed for the murders of several of his PC brothers. After enough time had passed and he'd fully processed what life was like untethered from Sophie, we were
trying
to get back into a natural rhythm.

The Rev's return was yet another attempt by the universe to throw us off course, and my guess was it would likely succeed.

“I know...the Rev is back,” he said, sounding mildly frustrated.

“Did you know that the Portsmouth PD has a video tape potentially showing the crime?” I snapped sarcastically. “Because I think that's an even
bigger
problem.”

“Where is it?” he snarled.

“At the precinct. The Feds are looking at it now from what I was told.”

“And I'm assuming you know what it is they'll see on it if it
does
have footage of the crime.”

“Yep.”

“Do I want to know?” he asked. I could tell by the tone in his voice that he was rubbing his forehead and temples, his headache already brewing.

“No, but you don't get that luxury,” I replied, slapping him with reality. “It's worse than you think. He
Changes
before he leaves the scene.”

“Fuck!” he growled while something wooden in his vicinity splintered into kindling. I hoped it wasn't the teak coffee table; I really liked it. “This is bad, Ruby. Very, very bad. I don't have anyone in place to easily deal with this, and if the Feds are involved that's only going to make things worse,” he explained before going quiet. “There are ways around this, but I don't want it to come to that.”

I didn't like his tone, or anything that it implied.

“Ways around it?” I asked, fishing for clarification.

“Never mind,” he said quickly. “Has your friend, the
cop
, seen it?”

“No, but he knows about it. I'm at their house now pretending to be sick so I could get away and call you.”

“You mean you're actually reporting something to me in a timely fashion?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

“Ruby?” Kristy called from the hallway. “Are you okay in there?” She tried the door, but, thankfully, I’d remembered to lock it.

“I'm fine,” I replied, trying to sound like someone who'd just puked her brains out. “Just give me a minute to clean up. I'll be right out.” I listened as she retreated back to the dining room, waiting for her to be out of earshot before resuming my conversation.

“Yes,” I hissed at Sean, “I did call you right away. This is no joke. They are going to see a man morph into a huge, black hellhound, Sean. It'll be all over the news before the night is over.”

“I need to contact the boys,” he said, his business tone taking over. “You call me if you hear anything else.”

“I will,” I agreed, “but promise me you won't do anything unless you absolutely have to.
Please
?”

“I'll try,” he replied, softening his voice. He hung up immediately after.

Slowly, I left the confines of the bathroom and made my way back to Alan and Kristy. She was staring at him intently while he silently held his cell phone to his ear. I stood in the entryway, wishing I had Sean's hearing.

“Right...mhm...got it,” Alan said, nodding along with whoever was rambling on the other end. “Yeah. I'll be right there.” He popped up out of his chair, phone still in hand. “I have to go, babe. They found something on the video. They need me to see it ASAP.”

“What is it?” I blurted out before thinking.

“We have his face. The video caught it on his way up the dock,” Alan said, looking hopeful. “But we
may
have something even better than that.”

“What?” I asked so softly that the words were barely audible.

“Fingerprints,” Alan said with the ghost of a smile. “They retrieved a necklace from the shallows below the dock. The family has identified it as the victim's. They pulled two prints from it so far. One is hers, the other is being run through IAFIS. We should know in an hour or two if we have a hit.”

“I hope you come up with something good,” Kristy said, going over to kiss her husband goodbye. “This psycho has to be caught.”

“You have no idea,” I muttered to myself. “I need to head out too, Kris. My stomach is still off and I have to work early tomorrow.”

Alan walked me out after Kristy had her way with me at the door—she was
really
into hugging. At first, it had made me extremely uncomfortable, but it grew on me slowly, until I actually looked forward to receiving them.

Given my drunken state, Alan drove me home and waited while I unlocked the door to my three-story brownstone downtown. I gave him a little wave and forced a smile to let him know I was all set. As soon as I locked the door behind me, I was on the phone to Sean, letting him in on the grim news. Upon entering the apartment, I found myself relaying that very same information to my roommate, Cooper.

“What a shitstorm,” he said, exhaling between swigs of Sam Adams. “If Sean doesn't figure a way out of this one...”

“He will, Cooper.”

“Yeah—by whacking everyone that sees or knows about it.”

“Shut up! He will not. It won't come to that; besides, it's just a
picture
of him. They have no way of matching that up to anything.”

“And the fingerprint?”

“It could be anybody's...he probably didn't even actually touch it.”

“He's gotten sloppy, Rubes. It's a bad sign,” he said, tossing his empty bottle into the recycling pile. “I just hope he isn't up to something...something more than the usual anyway.”

“We'll know soon enough. Kristy promised to call me the second she hears from Alan.”

“And then you can relay that to your boyfriend, right?” he asked, cynicism dripping in his tone.

“He's
not
my boyfriend, Coop. You should know that by now.”

“The only thing I know for sure is that I'm
not
your boyfriend,” he replied with distaste. “You just use me for sex on occasion.” I turned to see what expression he wore after delivering his low blow. I didn’t appreciate the one I found.

“Oh my God, Cooper. I can't even believe you just said that,” I yelled. “You're seriously going to use that against me? Like I have any control over it. You agreed that it was better than me sleeping with randoms, and I
know
it makes you happier than thinking I'm screwing Sean.”

“That it does, indeed. But, it is still
technically
using me,” he argued. “I feel like such a piece of meat.”

“Maybe that's because you're such a ham,” I quipped.

“Oh, aren't you the
punny
one tonight?”

“Calling ‘em like I see ‘em, Coop. That's all,” I said, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge before heading down the hall to my room. “I'm going to bed. It’s already been a long night. I'll let you know if I hear anything.”

* * *

I startled myself awake the next day by the thought of being outed to the public. It consumed me while I got ready for work. The idea of eating made my stomach uneasy, so I settled for a liquid breakfast consisting of an entire thermos of black coffee.

Once I secured my provision, I made my way to the shop downstairs. REWORKED had been my pet project ever since my parents died and I had to start afresh—all alone. The store also afforded me the opportunity to work on my own terms, support the concepts of reusing and recycling, and do something that I really enjoyed.

When I pushed the door open, I saw my petite sidekick already preparing the store for business. Peyta was a godsend. She not only knew how to run my business for me, but also knew who and what I was, and loved me even more for it. It probably made that pill easier to swallow given that she herself was something slightly other than human. Peyta was a Healer to the PC, though she hadn't been officially bonded to the group. I studiously avoided that topic with Sean as
he
would be the one to choose the new Healer and tie her forever to the brothers―I was having none of that. For the past couple of months, the topic had been shelved, but I knew it would be revisited sooner than later. I didn't want that life for Peyta; she was like a sister to me.

“Rough night?” she called from behind the front counter, smiling wickedly.

“You know me,” I groused, “the life of the party.” I threw my purse on the counter, resting my coffee beside it. “I need a vacation.”

“I couldn't agree more,” she said, laughing. “You're a mess!”

“How you flatter me, young one,” I said, patting her on the head. “Anything exciting I need to know about around here?”

“Nope. I got all the bills paid and finished all the orders for the week. You may want to have a look at last month's bank statement though. I think they messed up one of the deposits. The numbers weren't reconciling.”

“K...thanks. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you probably shouldn't be calculating anything in your current state.”

She dodged into the back room just in time to avoid getting slapped by the magazine I chucked at her head.

“Lucky!” I yelled after her.

“You throw like a girl,” a muffled voice replied from the workshop.

“You do too! Have you forgotten the muffin incident?” I taunted, knowing it would draw her out. She couldn't walk away from a fight. It was a trait she came by fairly honestly.

“That muffin was so crumbly,” she started, bursting through the door, “that a pro baseball player couldn't have hit anything with it.”

“Mmhmm...”

“Ugh, you suck, you know that?”

I smiled in response, until I saw the headline of the newspaper lying on the front counter. It wasn’t necessary for me to actually read the article—I already knew how that story ended.

Peyta caught me staring it and broke the silence.

“They think it's
him
again,” she said, sounding painfully haunted.

“It is,” I sighed. “I was going to stop by your house last night to let you know, but Sean said he'd take care of it. I'm sure you'll have a few more boys over there by day's end.”