Kate Evangelista - Til Death

I slapped the table. “Don’t put that crap in my head.”

“It was you and swimming.” A pause. “My point is…the fact that you didn’t see how Bowen was with you shows you didn’t feel the same way. When he held your hand today, what did you feel?”

I considered it, opening and closing my hand. “Like the old days.”

“No giddiness? No butterflies? No blush?”

“I’m a horrible person!” My forehead hit the table.

She patted my arm. “You’re not. You just don’t love him the way he loves you.”

“I shouldn’t have let his reaction affect me like that.” My voice picked up a notch. “You’re right, I’m too nice.”

“Something tells me this won’t the last time you mess up a relationship. Chalk it up as experience points.” She inched closer and wrapped her arms around me. “Now, tell me about this weekend project at Kyle’s.”

I actually felt tears well up at that.

Dillan

S’up

Dillan embraced the night, letting its shadows hide him. An excited, almost manic smile spread across his face. He reveled in the feeling of doing something useful again—a kind of euphoria that came with the job. After a painful day playing nice at school, focusing on the case was just what he needed. They insulted his intelligence. All of them. He still couldn’t believe he had to spend an entire weekend making a crappy diorama. Who still did those anyway? If he were an idiot, he would have questioned Rainer’s teaching methods, but the possible after effects of said line of questioning might not be conducive to maintaining his health.

Focused on finding canine tracks or signs of a struggle, he drew power from the darkness. The Illumenari didn’t know about this aspect of his abilities. He’d discovered it when he spent a week in solitary for punching his cousin too hard during a sparring session. He’d dislocated Devin’s jaw. Enveloped by inky blackness, with nothing else distracting him, he enhanced his senses by combining his life force with that of the shadows surrounding him. His pupils dilated, covering all the blue, allowing him to see farther. His nostrils flared, taking in the minute scents in the air beyond the pines, moss, and dirt around him. He grimaced at the pungent smell of raccoon. A side effect of his enhanced senses. Smell them all, or smell nothing. The coolest thing the darkness did for him was crawl onto his body, camouflaging him from prying eyes. That was why he preferred night missions and insisted he track after dinner. He’d looked over the list of addresses of families who’d reported their dog or dogs missing his uncle had given him to establish a grid. So far, no patterns emerged.

The forest behind the townhouse grew thick, forcing him to pick the cleanest path. He slipped between trees, studying the bark and branches for breaks and scratches. His feet barely touched the pine-needle-littered ground. He was finally in his element. No school. No annoying uncles. And no copper-haired girls or ghosts from his past.

Stopping by a rock formation, he checked the cuff on his wrist. His father forbade him to release his weapon during the banishment. If he were to read the fine print, no missions allowed. At all. If the case stayed as simple as Rainer made it out to be, he wouldn’t have to defend himself. His grandfather—a member of the Council and the one responsible for his sentence—would flip if he found out.

Maybe he was dealing with some wild animal killing off the dogs. But no carcasses had been reported. That troubled him. Surely there had to be bodies or at least some sign that someone was stealing the dogs. According to Rainer, the authorities knew nothing. Humans, even the smart ones, tended to be sloppy. The dog-nappers would eventually leave some kind of trace. A Supernatural on the other hand…his grin turned wicked. He hoped it was a Supernatural.

The familiar excitement of the chase spread in his chest. It filled him with renewed determination. So he pushed off the ground and continued his trek through the dense forest.

He hadn’t been out long when a shadow bounded a yard parallel from where he ran. He flicked his gaze toward the movement and nodded once. It responded with a warbled growl. He picked up the pace. An owl glided overhead. Predators hunted. He hunted tonight.

A breeze brought the scent of damp wood mixed with Rainer’s aftershave. Faint. A few days old. Crouching down, he picked up a fistful of dirt. He brought it up to his nose. When he’d asked his uncle if he did his own investigation, he said he’d been too busy. The lying bastard. He’d been out here, too. He let the soil fall through his fingers.

A symbol had been carved into the tree’s trunk he knelt closest to. He traced the ward, a triangle with a line down the middle. The Triumvi-rate. Protection against evil intent. One of the most powerful wards in the Illumenari arsenal. Rainer’s energy jumped out and stung his hand. Even in ward form, his uncle’s dislike for him showed. Chuckling, he pushed up, dusted his hands off before he ran full tilt in the direction his partner disappeared to. The dumb mutt surely took his lovely time.

At a circular clearing, he stopped. The Triumvirate marked the edge of Rainer’s perimeter. The air beyond this point no longer bit into his skin. Letting relief from the discomfort wash over him, he took in his surroundings. Hands relaxed at his sides, he used his fingertips to feel out the energy around him. No immediate threats jumped out. The noct-urnal predators stalked their prey, nothing more. He tilted his head back and glanced up at the sky. He still had several hours left before dawn.

He dusted off his knowledge of Arbiter protocols. Been a while. Council sanctioned or not, he had to follow procedure. If a Supernatural was responsible for the disappearance, he may need to mediate, see if a solution could be reached between the parties involved. In this case, the accused may have to be sent to a desensitizing facility. There specialists would help the Supernatural reintegrate into society. If the Supernatural was too far gone, then he might have to terminate it. As much as possible, as an Arbiter, he had to avoid the latter. If the culprit was human, he would leave the rest to the authorities. Human crimes were beyond Illumenari jurisdiction.

You have that look again. The shadow’s rumbling voice pinged in Dillan’s head. He rested yards away, bending into the darkness. Only his red eyes were visible. English folklore told of black dogs with red eyes. To see one meant death.

“Where’ve you been? You left before I did.” He shoved his hands into his back pockets. He kept his expression as blank as possible, but since Sebastian could read his mind, the concern he buried would soon be exposed. “How’d I get here before you?”

Cheerful as ever, I see.

“Have you seen where we are?”

You prefer Siberia?

“The Yeti population always needs thinning.” He kicked a pebble. “Stop dodging. And quit messing around. Where the hell were you?”

I had matters to attend to.

“If necessary, I will leash you if you don’t tell me where you’ve been.”

The shadow shifted slightly.

“Figures you’d come when we finally have something to do.”

Missed me?

“You should have checked in, Sebastian. You know better.”

The shadow harrumphed—his version of a human snort. I am here now.

Dillan grimaced. “Who saved your ass from rotting in that cave?”

You never let me forget.

“Seriously,” he widened his stance, “where’ve you been?”

I must commend your uncle for his courage to defy the will of the Council by letting you investigate this case.