The Devil's Angel (Devil Series Book 2) (17 page)

The feeling was familiar. He’d experienced it with Alarica, who he now knew was Eve, destroying everything around her. He closed his eyes and focused harder on the feeling, connecting himself to the world. He’d done this once before to track down Alarica.

He wasn’t sure how it worked, but if he concentrated hard enough, somehow he could feel where evil was located. His only explanation for this ability was that he was connected to darkness through his own evil inside him. He used that power now to reach out to other evil in the world.

Lucien could see it all: darkness had spread over the entire earth, but mostly as a light mist. No part of the earth was left untouched, but in some areas of the world, the mist was a black fog. Lucien was being drawn toward his homeland, to the city of Dublin.

The darkness there was as thick as tar. As he focused, the gum-like substance took shape into a bestial body of legs, arms, and finally two heads. The eyes of the great beast opened. Black tar tinted with fire poured like lava from the open sockets.

The beast stared at Lucien, and then its mouth opened and breathed, “Come home, Lucien.”

Lucien sat up, gasping for breath. He wiped sweat from his brow, and hopefully the image of the beast, too. It didn’t work. He snuck up the stairs to Eve’s room and hid in the shadows. Like he thought it would, Eve’s calming effect pushed away the evil still lingering inside him.

The next day, he stared out the window in the conference room while Eve worked. Last night’s encounter with darkness had drained him.

“Is something wrong?” Eve asked.

He turned around and shook his head.

“You seem distant—more so than usual,” she said.

“It was a long night, is all.”

She closed the laptop. “Was it really that difficult to stay in the same house with me all night?”

“Not at all.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but his phone rang.
Thank goodness
. He removed it from his pocket and looked at the caller ID. It was John. John had only called him one other time, and that was over five years ago. It had been extremely important then, and no doubt, it was urgent now, too.

“I have to take this. Excuse me.” He quickly left the room, avoiding Eve’s confused expression.

Once in the hall, he answered his phone. “What’s going on, John?”

“Sorry to bother you, but we have a situation down at the police station that we aren’t equipped to handle. I think this might be more up your alley,” John said.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. You can fill me in when I get there.”

“You got it. Thanks.”

Lucien ended the call and went back inside the conference room. “I have to go, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll tell you later. Will you stay here?”

“Yes. The Mayor’s ball is in a few hours. If I’m not here, then I’ll be over at the Sheraton Hotel.”

“Stay here! I’ll be back in time, okay?”

She nodded. “Be careful, Lucien.”

Lucien smelled fear from the parking lot of the police station. It was practically pulsating through the air. He made his way across the pavement and into the building where everything appeared normal. An officer behind a counter spoke to a woman about her son’s incarceration, a couple of secretaries behind desks typed on keyboards, and several cops huddled together in different areas of the large foyer.

Lucien managed to pick up on a few of their conversations. The few words that worried him were “dead”, “no blood”, “strong”, and they all looked nervously to a back room.

“Lucien!” John called from across the room, waving him over.

Lucien walked over and shook John’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks for coming,” John said.

Even though it had been five years since they last saw each other, John looked the same, except for a few more wrinkles around his grey eyes. He was in great shape for a man in his fifties.

“What’s going on?” Lucien asked.

John opened a door and said, “Come with me.”

As they walked down a sterile hallway, John explained, “Around five this morning, my men picked up this guy who was walking in the middle of the street. He was confused and disoriented. When they tried to talk to him, he became belligerent and combative. They arrested him, thinking he was hopped up on drugs or something. They wanted to give him a chance to sober up safely in a jail cell.”

He stopped in front of a metal door.

“We threw him in there”—John motioned his head toward a closed door—“with one other man brought in for driving drunk. After about an hour, we heard a bunch of screaming. My men got there as quickly as possible, but it was too late. He’d been killed.”

“How?”

John paused. “The man bit his neck. On the video it looks like he was sucking the blood right out of him.”

“I’m going to need this video.”

“It’s back in my office.”

“Has anyone else watched it?”

“No. I’ve been trying to keep this as discreet as possible.”

“Good.” Lucien moved to open the door. “Are the cameras off?”

“Yes, but Lucien, wait. After this happened, two of my men opened the cell and tried to restrain him, but this guy snapped both their necks before they could even try. A third officer fired shots directly in his chest and it didn’t even slow him down. Luckily, I was there and had just enough time to lock the door before he could get out. I don’t dare send anyone else back in there.”

“I can take care of it. Make sure no one comes in.”

John nodded and turned around.

“Wait!” Lucien said. “Can I have the key?”

John hesitated, but finally reached into his pocket and gave it to him. “Don’t let him escape.”

Lucien opened the door. Inside the holding area, a long row of bars divided the room. Behind the bars stood a vampire whose eyes never left Lucien’s as he walked down the concrete floor to stand across from him.

The vampire had straight black hair to his chin and brown eyes that were just slits on his face. He was smaller than Lucien, but just barely. Behind him on a bench, the vampire had arranged all three dead bodies to make it appear as if the men were asleep.

“So,
brother
,” the vampire said, “have you come to help me?” He scratched at his chin.

“What’s your name?” Lucien asked.

The vampire stared at him thoughtfully, his sharp nails running the length of his arm. “Bill,” he finally said.

“You’re not Bill. I’ve met him.”

“No way. I’m Bill. I chose the name first.” He twisted the hair on his eyebrow.

Bill’s constant picking and scratching reminded Lucien of a meth head.

“Fine, I’ll call you Bill. I take it you and the other Bill know each other?”

“Something like that. How would
you
know him?”

It was a strangely worded question. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m a vampire. I make it my business to know who comes in and out of Seattle.”

Bill tsked him. “Not you, Lucien. You forget that I have superb hearing just like you. I heard every word between you and that cop out there. You’re not like us—you’re a wannabe human, and you came here to kill me. But ghosts can’t kill.”

“What?”

“The Dark Prince is going to reward me greatly when he finds out you’re still alive.” He scratched his chin again.

Lucien gripped the bars tight, thinking back to when he had been left to die. “It was him that tried to kill me? How does he even know me?”

“The Dark Prince knows everything.”

Lucien let go of the bars and pulled out the key. “Not everything. If he did, he wouldn’t call himself such a ridiculous name.”

He pushed the key into the lock and opened the iron-barred door. “Don’t try to get by me. I’ll kill you before you can take one step.”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving.” He grinned and wiped at his nose.

Lucien moved toward him. “How is it possible that a couple of fat cops caught you?”

Bill’s face reddened. “Copy-cat
Bill
didn’t like my plan. He wanted to do his own thing, and when I told him I wouldn’t let him, he shot me.”

“With what?”

“Some funky looking gun. I don’t even know where he got it. It shot out electricity or something that made me go all screwy in the head. I couldn’t even see straight for hours.” He picked at his teeth.

“What plan was it that ‘Bill’ didn’t like?”

“Oh, it was a great plan. Maybe you could help, and I’ll cut you in, fifty-fifty.”

“What is it?” Lucien pressed.

Bill looked around as if they were conspirators. “You see, there’s this woman—”

Lucien froze.

“The Dark Prince wants her real bad, says he’ll pay us whatever we want and make whoever brings her in alive his right-hand man.”

“Why does he want her?” Lucien asked, keeping his voice calm.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

“How many of you are there?”

“Too many in my opinion. She’s just a stupid girl, after all. I’ll bring her to him, but before I do …” He sighed in pleasure. “She’s the prettiest little thing. I can’t wait to press my tongue—”

From within Lucien’s jacket sleeve, a long wooden dagger flew out. It pierced Bill before he could utter another word. It took all the restraint he had not to shove the stake entirely through Bill’s heart, killing him instantly, but if he did that, it would only make things more difficult for John to explain to others. Instead, he pierced the heart just enough to render Bill unconscious.

Bill’s body fell limp to the ground. Lucien tore his shirt at the site of the wound. Very carefully, he grabbed the base of the stake next to Bill’s skin, and with the other hand he snapped off the part sticking out, leaving only half an inch of the wood protruding above his chest.

He then moved to the dead bum whose skin was as white as the walls and proceeded to take off his jacket. After putting it on Bill and zipping it up, concealing all signs of the stake, he walked back out of the jail cell and opened the door to the hallway.

John stood at the end speaking to another officer. He quickly dismissed him when he saw Lucien. Lucien held the door open for John as he passed by into the jail cell.

“Is he dead?” John asked. He stood above Bill, brow furrowed.

“Just paralyzed. I only pushed the stake in enough to knock him out. You’ll have at least six hours, but not more than twelve, to finish the job before his body will force the stake out and repair itself. You’ll need to make sure nobody inspects him.”

“That can be arranged,” John said. He bent down and looked at his face. “Did you know him?”

“No.”

“Did you find out why he’s here?”

“He’s after a woman by the name of Eve Andrews.”

John straightened. “The woman you asked Scott about a few months ago?”

“He told you?"

"We work together a lot, sometimes your name comes up. What would this monster want with her?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“Do you need any help?”

Lucien shook his head. “I don’t think so, but I’ll call you if I do.”

They stood there in silence, starring down at Bill.

“What are you going to do with the body?” Lucien asked.

“I’ll insist that I take the body to the morgue myself, and somewhere along the way, I’ll finish the job you started.”

“But won’t people become suspicious when a body doesn’t turn up?”

“I’ll take care of all the paperwork. No one will think to follow up with the morgue. People will want to forget this guy. We lost two good officers today.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” Lucien said.

“It was my fault. I should’ve called you the moment I saw the footage of him killing the drunk, but I just couldn’t believe it. I convinced myself that he’d killed the man some other way.”

Lucien glanced down at his watch. He still had time before he had to be back at the Deific. “Listen, why don’t you let me take the body? I’ve got a little time and it would be less suspicious if I take him than if you did. I can pretend to be a criminal pathologist or something”

John looked down at the body then back at Lucien. “Okay. I’ll come up with a story to tell the guys. You wait here. I’ll have a gurney brought up in a minute.”

Twenty minutes later, a skinny officer wheeled in a gurney. He stopped in front of Lucien. “So how’d this guy die?”

“I’m not sure.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You are the pathologist, right?”

Lucien raised his eyebrows. “Right. That’s me. I won’t be able to tell how he died until I run some tests, but it looks like an overdose of some kind.”

The officer nodded his head. “I heard he was shot three times and was still a fighting machine.”

“Nope, no bullet wounds. They must’ve missed him. You want to help me out?”

Lucien bent over and picked up the top half of Bill’s body. The officer picked up the bottom half and together they heaved it onto the table. The officer unfolded a white sheet and draped it over the body.

“What about them?” the officer asked, nodding his head toward the two officers and the white drunk.

“John said something about examining the crime scene,” Lucien quickly lied.

He pushed the gurney out the doors and into the main hall of the police station. Several officers watched as he passed by; one officer spit on the white sheet. When Lucien walked by John, John nodded his head, his eyes full of gratitude.

Outside, Lucien appeared natural, as if it was a normal procedure, wheeling a dead body through a parking lot. Luckily, there were few bystanders to question him. He pushed the gurney to his car and, after opening the back of his Hummer, folded the legs of the narrow table and pushed it in.

He drove a few blocks before turning behind a department store. After scanning the area, he slid the body from the back. It hit the pavement with a loud thud. He quickly stepped on Bill’s chest, forcing the stake deep into his heart. Bill imploded into dust.

Lucien stepped over the decayed ashes and back into his car. He had thirty minutes to change and get back to the Deific to tell Eve what he had learned. At least they knew who wanted her now, but the biggest question still remained.