H Mallory - To Kill A Warlock

I glanced down at what was left of the body. As with Fabian and Guy, there was no blood. Just a head and a fleshy mound sitting beside the head. The fleshy mound was about the length of my forearm with the white of various bones peeking through the flesh. I squatted down and reached for the pulpy mass before noting the numbered markers set beside the head and rib cage, used for crime scene photos. I glanced up at the forensics team who were still surrounding the body. “Am I good to shift stuff around now?” A man with beady eyes gave me a salute. “It’s all yours.” I lifted the fleshy mass. “Rib cage,” I said to Trey. “That’s what I was thinking too.”

“Bag it,” I said and handed the rib cage to the closest hazmat man. He regarded it with disinterest so I waved my hand a bit, acting the charade of “take this damn thing already.”

“Looks like there are some teeth marks on the bones but other than that, it isn’t going to tell us much more than what we already know about the killer,” I said.

A short man with blond hair and a blonder handlebar moustache opened a clear plastic bag as Mr. Reluctant dropped the rib cage in, sealing it away. It would then go to our crime scene lab to be placed in a cryogenic chamber that would ensure we could return to study it.

One rib cage down, one head left to go.

I sighed and turned to the fun task of rotating the head so we could get an idea of who our John Doe was. In the heat of the lights, I could feel beads of perspiration skiing down the small of my back. No one ever said this job was a glamorous one.

I grabbed a handful of black hair which felt cold against my gloved hand. I rotated the head until the eyes fixed their sightless gaze on me, an expression of wide-eyed shock still resident in them. I couldn’t help my gasp. “Tad,” I said in a breathless voice. Trey groaned and shifted his extreme weight from one leg to the other. “Goddamn.”

If Guy and Fabian’s deaths hadn’t bothered me much, Tad Jones was a different story. Though Tad had definitely had his dealings with the law and he’d spent many a night in our holding cells, he was someone you wanted to bring under your wing. There was a flawed, but innate goodness about him.

He’d been addicted to marsh root, an illegal potion that worked like speed, since I’d first met him five years ago. He was young-maybe in his late teens and he’d had a hard, short life. He was a werewolf without a pack-he’d been ousted as soon as he’d gotten addicted to marsh. Wolves weren’t the most forgiving of creatures.

“I always liked the kid. Thought he’d clean up eventually,” Trey said as he chewed his lip.

I nodded. “He was a good kid.”

Even though I didn’t say much, that didn’t mean I wasn’t reeling inside. I’d spent lots of time with Tad, talking about his future and trying to help him. As a Regulator, it was my job to bust the bad guys but I also tried to keep everyone on the straight and narrow. I couldn’t help but think I’d failed Tad and it brought stinging tears to my eyes.

“So, you think Guy’s murder is related?” Trey asked.

I could tell he was trying to change the subject, trying to get my mind off the fact that I’d failed Tad and because of that, he was now dead before me. I had to give it to Trey for trying. I cleared my throat, forcing the tears back. I would not cry. “Yeah,” I said with a sniffle that I turned into a cough. Trey nodded. “They were both torn up like Fabian,” he said and flicked up one finger. “They all had something to do with the illegal potion industry.” Finger two.

“Yes,” I said, forcing guilty thoughts of Tad to the back of my mind. I couldn’t save him, but I could damn well find out who killed him and see them pay. “So, whoever did this was trying to cover something up. All the deaths were related to street potions,” I said. “Fabian was a dealer and so was Guy, but Tad wasn’t,” Trey pointed out. I nodded. “So, why kill him?” Trey shrugged. “Maybe Tad saw something or knew something?” “Maybe. I can’t help but think if he’d known something was up, he would have come to me.” “Yeah, the kid did have a crush on you,” Trey said with a sad smile. “Whatever it was, he trusted me.” And I failed him…the silent words clung to my tongue.

“Well, do you think we got enough here?” Trey asked and we both glanced around the alley again, almost waiting for another clue to rear its head. Of course nothing did.

Yeah, I was ready to go.

###

I was tired. Tired, depressed and really not in the mood to go to work but hey, sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to, right? I opened the double glass doors to Headquarters and stifled a sigh.

“You look like something the cat dragged in,” Elsie said with a compassionate smile.

I frowned and bobbed my head-it was all I could manage. Luckily, today didn’t look like much of a busy day-no one in our holding cells and no phones ringing. Thank you, Hades. Now I just needed coffee and lots of it before I started writing up the notes on Tad’s murder. I walked to my desk and threw myself into the seat. “Dulce.” I didn’t need to turn around to recognize Quillan’s rich baritone. But, I did anyway. “Morning,” I muttered. He avoided my gaze. That’s when I knew something was up. “Can I chat with you for a minute?”

Words that no employee ever wants to hear from her boss. I so didn’t want to deal with this today. I stood up with a sigh and followed him into his office.

“Have a seat. Do you want some coffee?”

I took the chair. “Yeah, please.”

Shutting the door, he turned to his Mr. Coffee, and poured me a cup, using a mug I’d gotten him for Christmas. It had a picture of the Blues Brothers-his all-time favorite movie. He plopped one sugar cube and a bit of Coffee-Mate into the cup, then stirred-just how I liked it. “Here you go.” He handed me the cup. “You and Trey were on the murder case last night?” he started. “Yeah, it was Tad Jones.” Quillan shook his head. “Damn shame-he was a good kid.”

I didn’t want to think about exactly what a damn shame it was…shame wasn’t even the word for it. Instead, I turned my attention to the warm cup in my hands and thought about the information I needed to share with Knight. But I had no way to reach him. Guess it would have to wait.

“What did you make of it?” Quillan asked.

I shrugged. “Guy, Fabian and Tad all had something to do with the illegal potion trade. I’m not sure what the link is between them yet, but I intend to find out.”

Quillan nodded. “Next steps?”

“We should put some guys out to monitor the comings and goings of other creatures dealing street potions. Not only for their own good but also to see if we can get any leads.” I paused and tapped my fingers against the ceramic cup. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that all the deaths have to do with street potions and if I had to guess, I’d say the creature will kill again.”

Quillan smiled with a nod of his curly-locked head. “I’ll get a list going of all creatures we’ve suspected of being involved with illegal potions.” “I don’t mind doing a little reconnaissance, myself.” Quillan immediately shook his head. “I’ll take care of it.” I just gave him a small smile of thanks-he knew I didn’t exactly enjoy stakeouts. “So, Dulce…” Quillan started, looking at me anxiously. “What’s up?”

He rested his tightly packed ass against the edge of the desk, one leg curling over the side, the other stationed on the ground. I leaned back in my chair, a mere six inches from him-so close I could smell his Tommy Bahama aftershave.

“I received word from the Relations Office this morning…”

Great, here it came. He was pissed off I’d withheld information about Knight. Well, what choice did I have? Knight was higher up on the Netherworld totem pole than Quillan, and he’d given me none-too-subtle orders not to breathe a whisper of the case to anyone. This was so not my fault, but I couldn’t even defend myself.