Whiskey Witches by F.J. Blooding (moboreader .TXT) 📖

“If anything demony happens here, you have to handle it. You keep him safe so he can do his job.”

“What are we doing here, Pea?” he asked quietly. “We know who the killers are. Let’s just handle this.”

“Two of the killers are human.” She peered at his face in the dark, seeing only shadows. “They can and will be tried in a court of law. The demon, though? Sven? He’s mine. But I have to catch him and I have no idea where he is.”

“I don’t like this.”

She didn’t either, but what choice did she have? Placing a hand on his chest, she pushed him out of the way. “We don’t have to like it, Dexx. We just have to deal with it.”

He didn’t try to stop her as she left to follow Brian through the woods to his car.

Brian took the corners sharp, his lights and siren blaring on, but he didn’t say a word.

Paige couldn’t blame him. The man had to be freaked. He knew the people piling up as corpses all around him. She didn’t think she’d handle it any better.

He drove them to the center of town. A median planted with lush, wild grass and flowers resided at the intersection, a lone light pole claiming dominance. Red and blue lights flashed, surrounding buildings reflecting flashes.

Tied to the light pole was a woman in a flowing, floral gown.

Brian parked the car at the edge of a growing crowd of townsfolk and pushed his way to the front.

Paige followed in his wake.

Two local police officers worked to keep the crowds away.

Two? Where were the rest? Paige gestured to one of them. “Broaden the perimeter. Give our people more room to work. Ladies and gentlemen, if you would all move back. There’s nothing to see here. Go home.”

They shouted questions at her, but she ignored them. Of course there was something to look at. A dead body.

But the details. The details turned the body into a case. So, what did she have? Same killers? Different killers? If the same killers, how close was Paige to catching them?

She walked a slow spiral toward the victim, careful to touch nothing.

Brian handed her a set of blue gloves.

She slipped them on, continuing her slow, spiral to the center. No symbols were carved into the body. No blood pooled. The woman had been washed before she’d been propped. No runes etched into the paint on the pole. Maybe this was a new killer. Could she be wrong about the change?

But what was the likelihood of that happening? Most people talked about killing someone, but when it actually boiled down to it, the little voice inside their head telling them not to do it became a very loud voice. Though, with this many demons in town—

As much as she hated to admit it, when demons were allowed to move freely without consequence, they really could be assholes.

“What’s with all these shells?” Brian stooped and retrieved one from the ground, holding it out to her. “Don’t touch it. Just look at it.”

She retracted her gloved hand. Good idea. “That’s a conch shell.”

“They’re all over here.”

Paige shined the flashlight she’d borrowed from Dexx. Sure enough, the ground was littered with tiny, brown and white conch shells. She found something else sprinkled with them. Rune tiles. Every single tile she could read had one rune on it. Love.

She straightened and reassessed the victim.

The killers had met their original agenda. They’d gotten her to St. Francisville and she’d been possessed by Lucius, bringing him into this reality.

So what did that mean?

And why had they brought her to a different location to be carved on? Why had they taken everyone else to the other site? That was still an assumption, but a good one.

“Isn’t that Malika’s dress?” Brian asked. “I could have sworn I saw her wearing it earlier today.”

Paige flicked her gaze at him, then returned it to the victim. Malika’s dress? Conch shells that were used in love spells, and love runes scattered at the victim’s feet? “What do you know about the victim?”

“Not much. St. Francisville is big. I don’t know everyone.”

“I’ll start collecting evidence, Chief,” one of the uniformed officers said as he approached.

Brian waved him down. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have New Roads handle this.”

A new officer joined them, tall, big and burly. “What do you mean New Roads is going to handle this? Last I checked, this was still St. Francisville.”

“Yes.” Brian stepped out of the shrub. “And when I say we’re doing something a certain way, that’s what we’re doing. I have my reasons.”

“For invitin’ others onto our turf like we don’t know what the hell we’re doing?”

“Excuse me,” a tenor said. “Are we interrupting?”

Paige turned to the newcomers and groaned. FBI.

Brian moved his officer out of the way and greeted the FBI agents. “Chief White. What can I do for you?”

The male lifted a shoulder, showing his badge. “We’re here to assist if you need. That’s all. Looks like you could use it.”

Brian glanced at the female.

She showed her badge as well.

Curious, Paige took the male’s badge and read it. “Jack Scott.”

“Special Agent Jennifer Forde,” the female said.

“It’s not like the FBI to come all the way out to a place like this to help,” Brian said.

Paige sighed. “You haven’t had too many opportunities to work with them, have you? As long as things are okay, this is exactly what they do.”

Special Agent Scott raised his eyebrows. “Detective Whiskey. You’re actually the reason I wanted this case.”

“Really?”

He gave her a thin smile. “Really.”