Keri Arthur - Dangerous Games

I shuddered, suddenly glad I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. I don't think it would have stayed down at that point.

I forced my gaze from the destruction of her body and looked at her left hand. Like the other victims, she was missing half her little finger. The wound, though healed, looked extremely fresh.

And for some reason, her missing a finger made me feel colder—sicker—than anything else that had been done to her. Which was an extremely odd reaction, even for me.

I looked past her. Jack and Cole were standing in the far corner of the old factory, talking softly. If I concentrated, I could probably hear what they were saying, but it felt like too much effort when I could just ask Jack later on. I studied the immediate surrounds instead. Cole's team had been here for a good half hour by the time we'd arrived, so the few clues evident were already tagged. Like before, the sooty remains of a pentagram was visible on the concrete, and droplets of black wax littered the ends of each point. While I didn't know much about magic, I knew black candles indicated the darker paths rather than the light.

Though the mutilation of the body was enough to indicate that .

I looked back at the woman as something stirred. A wisp of thick air. Smoke, perhaps, curling softly in the air, barely visible against the bright lights the clean-team had set up.

Another chill ran through me.

It wasn't smoke.

It was her soul.

And as it found shape, it found voice, words. Dahaki , it said. Azhi Dahaki .

The chill got fiercer, until it felt like fingers of ice were creeping into my soul. As if the woman's soul brought with it the fierce cold of the underworld. Who the hell is Azhi Dahaki ?

I wasn't entirely sure whether I said that out loud or telepathically. Wasn't sure if the woman's spirit would even answer.

It stirred softly, a body of smoke with no features that gently rotated. But with every turn, energy built in the air, until the small hairs along the nape of my neck were standing on end. Only then did the words come again. You must stop him .

With that statement, the energy fell away, and the soul disintegrated, fleeing to whatever region of afterlife it was bound for.

I took a deep, shuddering breath. It was bad enough that I was seeing souls—now the fucking things were beginning to talk to me.

"Riley?"

Jack's voice was soft, filled with caution, but I jumped all the same. I looked up, saw that he was standing only a few feet away. Cole stood beside him, a concerned look on his face. I hadn't heard either of them move.

"It talked to me, Jack." I rubbed my arms. "It actually damn well spoke ."

"I did warn you that might happen."

I snorted softly. "Yeah, well, I was hoping you were wrong." I looked down at the body, to where the soul no longer hovered. "I don't want to be talking to the spirits of dead people, Jack. It's just too creepy."

Cole's eyebrows rose. "You can converse with spirits? Cool."

I gave him an annoyed glance, and concentrated on Jack. "It said a name—the same one Dunleavy's soul gave me. Only this time it was Azhi Dahaki. A full name, perhaps?"

"It's quite possible. It's an odd name, though."

"Well, it's an odd talent." And that's precisely why Jack had brought me down here tonight. He'd been hoping I'd see something. "Have you got an ID on her yet?"

"Karen Herbert," Cole said, looking down at the PDA in his hand. "Twenty-two years old. Lived alone. Parents currently holidaying in Queensland."

I looked at Jack. " The Karen Herbert? The one I asked for a background check on?"

He had the grace to look uncomfortable. "Afraid so."

"Well, if that isn't proof positive there's a link between Quinn's case and ours, I don't know what is."

"Which is why, when you see him next, you will be questioning him."

Yeah. Like that was going to result in anything useful. I waved a hand at Karen's face. "She didn't die in terror. There were no drugs found in the systems of the other women, and I doubt there will be here. It once again suggests she came here willingly, Jack."

"Or that there was psychic influence. That can't be traced after death, remember."

"Jin's not psychic, so maybe I'm following the wrong person."

"If Jin's blocking you telepathically, he's a psychic of some sort. Plus, he shares a house with the woman Quinn is following, he works at the same place as Dunleavy's girlfriend—who was killed by Gautier because she'd seen or heard something—and he has a ring the same as one found at a murder scene. It's too much of a coincidence. Everything is connected. We're just not seeing the complete picture yet."

And we needed to, before the next woman was murdered. My gaze went back to the body. "So are these ritual killings or sacrifices?"

"My guess would be sacrifices. For what, I'm not sure."

"Blood and organ sacrifices," Cole corrected, then looked at me, "which is a darker and more powerful magic all together."

"It's still ending up with dead women, buddy-boy."

Annoyance flared in his pale eyes. "The nature of the magic is often a direct indication of the nature of the magician."

"Doesn't take much of a genius to guess we're dealing with someone who's wry black in nature."

"No, but the fact that there's blood and organ used means we are dealing with an extremely strong type of black magic. And if the mage is adding his own blood, then we are dealing with someone who's raising a power capable of doing far more than calling a couple of demons."

"Meaning, you don't think Quinn's hunt and ours are merging?"

"Meaning, they may well be merging, but our boy is doing more with his power than releasing a couple of demons to harass a vampire." Jack eyed me for a minute. "You don't seem overly perturbed about Quinn locking you up."

"You haven't seen his house." I glanced at my watch. If I didn't get going soon, fin was going to start wondering what the hell was going on. "Look, if you don't need me, I've got a suspect to meet."

"Go. But be sure you hit the com-link if things get rough and you need out."

I raised my eyebrows. "Why tell me that when I know for a fact you don't say it to other guardians?"

"Because the other guardians are dealing with regular old psychos. I've got a feeling your particular psycho is off the scale even by our standards."

"Well, gee, that's a comforting thought." I eyed him for a minute, then added, "And besides, you don't want me dead yet because you want to see where the drugs take my talents."

"Precisely." He smiled and threw me a set of keys. "Seeing Cole drove you here, take my car. But I want it back in one piece."

"You give me your keys, you take your chances." I grinned, tossed them lightly in the air, then headed out.

Night's curtain had well and truly fallen, and though the air was cold, the night was clear. The moon hung fat and yellow in the sky, not quite full but not far off it. The heat of it sung through my veins, a surging desire that was only going to get worse over the coming nights. It was, I thought grimly, probably the best time to get landed with the job of fucking a bad man.

And when I finished doing him tonight, I was going to ring Kellen. I had a bad feeling I'd need some tender care and gentle loving to wipe the foulness of Jin's touch from my mind.

I found Jack's car and headed into the city. It was a Monday night, so the streets were quiet and parking easy to find. I grabbed my bag and headed back up the street toward the club, discovering the number he'd given me was actually that of a multistory building and the club was on the nineteenth floor.

Which was pushing my phobia to the limit.