Soul Survivor (11 page)

“We . . . I—well . . . ,” Mrs. Morganson stuttered.

“Were you hiking yesterday morning?” Adrienne asked, stone-faced.

“I was.” Mr. Morganson said. “I took Baxter alone yesterday because Heather wasn't feeling well.”

“Uh-huh. And what time was that?” Adrienne had her iPad back out and was taking notes again.

“I left the house at . . . I don't know, what time was it, honey?”

“A little before six, I think,” she answered for him.

My gaze slid to Adrienne, whose face still revealed nothing. “And what time did you get home?”

“I stopped to pick up some tea and oatmeal for Heather and some coffee for me on the way. I think I was home by seven-thirty or eight.”

A pause. “Which was it, Mr. Morganson? Seven-thirty or eight?”

He swallowed. “Closer to eight, I'd say.”

“And you didn't see anyone else on the trail? Did you see the victim yesterday morning? Or the tall, pale man from today?”

“There were a couple of people jogging.” His eyes traveled in the direction where Sonja's body hung. Even though she was covered with protective screens, his eyes glazed over. A trembling hand covered his mouth and swiped under his nose. “I honestly don't know. I come up here to escape people and tend to keep my head down.”

“And this morning? Where were you at four a.m.?”

The couple both looked as though they might crack any second. Mrs. Morganson's tears had long been spilling down her cheeks and Mr. Morganson was close behind her. “
This
morning? We left the house together around seven. . . .”

“Did I ask you about seven a.m.?” Adrienne clipped. “Where were you at four a.m.?”

“We were asleep. In bed.” Mr. Morganson answered.

“Thank you.” Adrienne's smile slithered up her face in a snakelike way that made me shiver. “We'll be in touch.”

She turned and stalked away back to where the police were still gathered. I followed her, needing to jog to keep up. “That was a little harsh,” I whispered.

“Monica, it's my
job
to be harsh.” She stuffed the iPad back into her bag. “And maybe you didn't notice, but there was dirt embedded under his nails. Grabbing our victim wouldn't have embedded the soot that much.”

“Yeah, but they were hiking. That could be from anything—”

“And the scratch marks on his neck? Did you see those? They were peeking out from under his shirt.”

Damn, I am really not good at this detective thing. I need to start really looking at everything. “Also, could be a lot of things. It could be from his dog or tree branches, or he might enjoy rough play or—”

“Or it
could
be from Sonja trying to fight him for her life. It's my job to look at all possibilities. And if you're going to be a consultant, I suggest you start doing the same.”

After a long pause, Adrienne finally spoke again. “So, what are you doing here, Jules?”

The voice came from between us. “The family crest—it's mine. From my human days.”

“Oh, Julian,” Adrienne whimpered, eyes closing and hands clenched to her narrow hips.

“What does that mean, exactly? Is Sonja part of your family or something?”

I could feel his nod beside me. “Something like that, yes.”

Adrienne looked back at me. “We need to find out whose family crest was on Lena. Find what the link is here.”

“Yeah, no shit,” I said back.

There was a rustling behind us and Damien and George walked up from the trail, panting. I looked George over from head to toe. “
You
hiked?”

He shrugged. “The hot blonde was headed the same way.... Besides, I didn't want to leave your mister here walking alone.”

Damien's jacket was slung over his arm, sleeves rolled to the elbow. “Thanks for that,” he muttered. “Had to listen to him hit on some hiker for about thirty minutes.”

My breath stalled in my throat as I took in Damien's whole look. Sweat beaded over his face and down his neck. Not the gross sweat—but the sexy sweat. The kind that reminds me of a hard workout and two bodies rolling around together in fine Egyptian cotton sheets. I inhaled his musky scent, a slow, warm thrill uncoiling in the center of my belly; that scent, it was all Damien.

“What are you staring at, succubus?” he grumbled while wiping his face with the palms of his hands.

“Well, we're actually pretty much done here,” Adrienne said, and I wanted to kiss her for snapping me out of my aroused fog. “If you want to look around a bit, we'll see you back down at the bottom.”

“Oh, no you don't,” he snapped and grabbed on to Adrienne's elbow. “You're not leaving me here to hike this shit back. I know there's a way to teleport me, as well, right?”

“Sorry, dude,” George offered with a shrug. “There's no way I'm hiking a second time. I linked my arm in his, and George, Adrienne, and I walked over to a hidden wooded area.

“Motherfuckers,” Damien growled just before we disappeared.

T
he ArchDemon of Salt Lake City had her office stationed in a mall. A
mall
. She owned a little celestial jewelry shop nestled between The Gap and a Foot Locker.

“Is this for real?” George asked with a flippant gesture toward the storefront.

I shrugged and trudged forward. “Only one way to find out, I guess.” There was a sensor on the door that pinged with our entrances. A young, pretty girl smiled at us from behind the counter.

“Good afternoon.” She sounded as if her vocal chords had been dipped in sugar.

“Er—hi.” I noted some unique-looking stones hanging on leather cords. Crystals shimmered under the lights creating a discotheque look. “We're here to see Claudette. Is she in?”

“Oh, yes.” The girl's head nodded up and down like a bobblehead. “Claudette is always here.” She stared vacantly at us, eyes glazing over.

I darted a look to George, whose lip was curling back as though the pretty girl repulsed him. “Um, could we
see
her, then?”

“Ah, oh yes, of course.”

“Jane, no need, I'm right here.”

Jane's eyes widened as the tall, willowy woman glided into the room. Her auburn pixie-cut hair had bangs that flopped into her eyes slightly. “How do you always do that?” Jane asked, then looked to George and me. “It's like she can always sense when someone is looking for her.” Claudette smiled in the same way a mother would at an infant discovering its hands for the first time. “You must be Monica.” Claudette shifted her smile to me and I took her outstretched hand in mine.

“That's right. And this is George.”

“Hi.” He flashed his dimples at Claudette and even though I was sure she'd seen it all, she still seemed to brighten under his attention.

“I'm Claudette. Please, follow me.” She nodded her head toward the back and we followed.

Her office was plush and bright with entirely white furnishings and accessories. Much more what I would imagine for Julian's office than a demon's. Even Claudette herself coordinated with the neutral/white tones in her taupe pants and white silk button-down shirt. “Please, have a seat.”

Like school children, we did as told. Even though she wasn't our ArchDemon, we certainly didn't want to cross anyone more powerful than ourselves.

“So,” she continued, lowering herself into a large white leather office chair and crossing her legs at the knees. “Tell me, dear ones. What are you doing in my sector? Did Lucien send you here to spy on me?” Her voice was brittle with a faux sweetness that made my stomach clench.

George and I looked at each other—both at a loss of what to say. George was the first to speak. “No, not at all. We're here working on official police business. Lucien actually had very little say in whether or not we were coming—”

“We only checked with Lucien as a courtesy.”

Her lips twitched at the corners, but didn't even resemble a smile. It was hard to tell if this fact pissed her off
more
or simply amused her. “So—any souls you acquire while you're here go to . . . who exactly?”

“I believe that's something you and Lucien should work out for yourselves. He has a couple of your girls, right?”

Her cool smile sent an icy shiver down my arms. “That's correct. I assume you are both working to corrupt the well-known religious population we have here?”

Leaning back on the couch, George swung an arm over the back. “That's right. We're already joining a Bible Bowling League tonight.”

“We are?”

He flashed me a look. “Yes. Did I forget to mention that?”

Claudette's laugh was terrifyingly beautiful and heartless all at once. “Good luck with that. Considering none of us can touch anything holy. My girls have been working to infiltrate these groups for decades. It takes time and patience, and it is certainly not as easy as it seems.”

“I think we can handle it.” George's smile was equally beautiful and chilling, if only for the effectiveness of his charm.

Air expelled through flared nostrils, tension tightening the insides of Claudette's eyebrows. “Of course. Good luck to you both, then. Report back to me if you are still here on Tuesday, please.”

She stood, showing us out. We ran into Jane again as Claudette strolled back into her office.

“Thank you for coming!” Jane called with a wave.

As we made our way to the front of the store, a dark but shimmering stone caught my eye. My blood turned cold as I moved to examine it more closely. It was a deep blue, similar to that of a lapis lazuli, but with more shimmer. It was the same type of stone Lexi and Wills had given to me six months ago. A rare type of stone that has the ability to strip a succubus of her powers. I was pretty certain it wasn't the exact one seeing as Lucien and Jules had promised to take care of it. But the type of stone was rare, one that came from Lilith's time in the Garden of Eden. And seeing how none of us had figured out how Wills and Lexi had gotten the stones in the first place—it seemed even stranger that we should find one here in Claudette's store.