Page 6 of Dropping Like Flies

“Suffocation, given his position. Not strangulation, because there are no marks on his neck.”

“And the second?”

“Blood loss. A slow exsanguination.”

“From where?”

Patrick’s gloved hand plucked one of the victim’s wrists from the bed and turned it so I could see.

“Jesus!” I said, Lou’s comment about eating breakfast making sense. Bile rose in my throat as I processed someone having amputated every single finger below the second knuckle.

“The other hand is the same,” Lou said quietly from his position by my shoulder.

“And the fingers?” I asked.

It was one of the uniformed officers who answered. “No sign of them yet, but we’re still looking.”

“What kind of murderer has a compulsion to remove all his victim’s fingers?”

Lou jerked his head toward the wall that bore the symbols. “The same kind that sticks around to do that.”

I took a slow breath in and then let it out again. “So we’re thinking ritualistic, right?”

The silence that followed my question was enough of an answer as I focused back on the body. Poor guy had presumably picked someone up and gotten a lot more than he’d bargained for. It made me look at Noel and him being slightly miffed that I’d refused to drop him off somewhere in a whole new light. At least he hadn’t removed all my fingers.

Chapter Three

Two weeks later

Griffin

“Not a chance in hell,” I said with as much steel in my voice as I could muster. “I can’t believe you’re even asking me.” Cade’s sigh was the same long-suffering one I remembered from when we were kids and I wouldn’t give him something that belonged to me. Even then, he’d been used to getting his own way. Just in case I hadn’t quite hammered the point home, I added more. “Send John. He’ll bitch and moan about it, but you know he’ll do it. He likes to pretend he’s fierce and doesn’t give a fuck, but the majority is nothing but bluster.”

Cade got up and went over to his office window to stare out at the impressive view of the London skyline, tension etched in every line of his back. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

Cade turned back to face me, his expression grave. “Three reasons.”

I crossed one leg over the other and sat back in my chair. “I’m all ears.”

“Reason one… he’s pissed at me.”

“What’s new? When is he not?” I might spend most of my time avoiding my work colleagues, but I knew enough about what was going on in the department to have an opinion on it.

Cade sighed. “Not like this. I’m talking really pissed.” When I shrugged, he continued. “Reason two… his license to practice necromancy is currently suspended. I’m working to get it back, but it’s going to take time.”

My eyebrows rose. “Suspended! Why? What’d he do?” I sat forward, eager to hear all the juicy details.

Cade rubbed a hand over his brow, the action speaking of a great weariness. “He raised a graveyard full of the dead. It was for the right reason, but you know what the board can be like about unsolicited action. I’ve submitted a written report detailing how there was no other option, but it’ll be the usual story. They’ll spend weeks picking holes in it before they finally back down.”

“Arseholes,” I supplied at the mention of the necromancy council. I’d had more than a few run-ins with them over the years when they’d taken exception to the way I did things. They were very good at sitting behind their desks and making up long lists of rules and regulations without ever setting foot in the field. “You said three reasons. What’s the last one?”

“He’s currently out of the country. He’s gone on holiday with his new boyfriend. Oh, and then there’s the small matter of him possibly not even working here anymore. He kind of told me where I could stick my job.”

I smirked. “Bet you deserved it.”

“I did.” Cade circled back to take the seat opposite mine.

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