Page 49 of Death Raiser

“Of course. I want you all to myself.”

I walked around the blood-stained floor. “Not sure why you called me in. Not that I mind billing the department for the call fee, but there are no bones here.”

“Ah, well. That wouldn’t be entirely accurate.” Kang remained where I’d stood earlier, tracking my progress with his gaze. “Take a look at the coffee table.”

I turned and walked over to the coffee table someone had pushed to the side of the room. An evidence bag sat on the scratched laminate covered surface.

“Is that…?”

“A severed finger? Yes. We were hoping to find more—at least some bone fragments, but this crime scene is clean. A finger is enough, right?”

“It is.” I snatched the evidence bag from the table and walked back over to the pools of blood. “Clean wouldn’t be the word I’d use to describe this scene.”

Kang shrugged. “Aside from the blood, severed finger and summoning circle, there’s no evidence. No signs of struggle, no chunks of hair or skin. No bloody footprints. It’s incredibly odd.”

I knelt near the stained area rug. Specs of white powder speckled the floor not soaked with blood. “A summoning circle?”

“It appears so. Preliminary results indicate it’s made of regular table salt.”

“So they summoned something and it killed them before arranging them in a neat little circle? Or someone else used their deaths to summon something inside the circle? Or…”

“We have an occult specialist as a consultant as well. We might have to call them in. But in the meantime, I was hoping you could get something from the finger. Only if you’re up to it, though.” His gaze softened and dropped to scan my body as if looking for visible signs of an impending breakdown.

I narrowed my eyes. “Did you call me in just to check up on me?”

“Maybe.” He clamped his mouth shut.

“You could’ve just called and asked me if I was okay.”

“And you would give an honest answer? Or would you tell me everything was fine?”

I opened and closed my mouth. He knew me well. That was exactly what I would’ve told him, but only because it was the truth.

“I needed to see you for myself,” he said, like he was admitting something terrible. “You had a gun pressed to your head. That’s not a normal everyday thing to get over and if the severity of the incident hasn’t hit you yet, it will later. Hell, I don’t think I’ve recuperated from witnessing it. I’m using every ounce of self-control not to storm into the precinct, find the guy, and…” He pressed his lips together.

“You tackled him to the ground and I tortured him with a spirit.”

His gaze flashed. “It wasn’t enough.”

I didn’t have the guts to ask him what would be enough, so instead, I said, “I really am fine.”

“You should see a therapist.”

“I’ve been talking to one since I met you,” I lied. I had no problem with seeing a therapist, it was more a matter of time and money, both of which I had little of. I waved at the pools of blood. “Do you have any names?”

“We didn’t find any identification, but the apartment is registered to Timothy Richards.”

“I hope you brought some chickens.”

“You get three.” He pointed at the hallway.

“That’s rather ambitious.” I only had one finger to work with.

“We were hopeful we’d find more bones. Maybe even some skull fragments.” He leaned in, his words a caress along my skin. “And I know you can do more than you let on.”

As if listening to our conversation, the chickens clucked at each other, followed by a flutter of wings.

Instead of confirming Kang’s suspicions, I sighed and retrieved a chicken. She was flapping around inside the bathtub of the main washroom and had pretty brown feathers. As soon as I picked her up, she nestled into the heat of my body. I held her close and walked back to the living room to join Kang. “If I ever raise more than two bodies for you, it has to be left out of your reports.”

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