Page 7 of Love & Other Killers
“Fionn Kane, don’t you dare say ‘rabid’—”
“Rrridiculous.”
“Doc,” Rose whines, puffing a breath upward through her sweaty bangs, “I thought you’d said you’d take a raccoon to the face for me. And I’m not even putting her in your face. It’s chest-level raccooning.”
Fionn rolls his eyes, but the man is a goner for his fiancée. He reaches out, and the rather unhappy trash panda is deposited into his arms. He immediately sets her down, and she rushes to the end of the leash that’s attached to her harness, making a direct path toward the smelly chicken shed.
Rose dusts her hands off on her jean shorts and grins at Fionn as he tries to reel Barbara back in, grumbling a string of obscenities as she resists. “Well, enjoy. We’ve got some trespassing to do.”
“Twenty minutes, cheaters,” I say, checking my watch.
“We didn’t cheat,” all three brothers protest in unison.
“Whatever, soon-to-be losers.”
I flip them my middle finger as we start walking between the chicken sheds, heading for the entrance. “You’re adorable when you’re angry,” Rowan calls after us.
“Get fucked, Butcher.”
“Love you, too, Peaches.”
I turn enough that he can see the slicing motion I make across my neck before I blow him a kiss and disappear around the front of the shed.
We stop at the door. Slide on our gloves. Pull our knives from their sheaths. Give each other a single, silent nod.
And then we step inside.
The heat. Thesmell. Ammonia and feed and dirt and sawdust. There are metal lines that run the length of the structure, red waterspouts spaced every few feet where white chickens gather to peck droplets from the waterers. They cluck and beat their wings. The ones closest to the entrance eye us with suspicion. A cluster of birds off to the left snags my attention. They’re huddled over something. They peck furiously at the ground. Nip at each other. Squabble for the best spot over whatever is interesting them. I’m still watching as one chicken darts out of the fray to jostle for a better spot. Its chest feathers are covered with blood.
I slip into the pen and stalk toward them, my eyes fixed to the flock.
“What’s going on? Did you see something?” Lark asks as she and Rose follow on my heels. Bloodied chickens scatter as we draw close.
But the blood isn’t theirs.
We bend to look at the mound of flesh and chopped bone, some of the braver birds lingering around us to snag a mouthful of carnage before darting away. “What the fuck ...”
“A guy named Martin Jeoffries disappeared a week ago in Sproul Forest. The rumors have already started that it was the Specter,” I say. I swipe a gloved finger into the mess of pulverized flesh and shattered bone.
I pull a bone chip from the pile. It’s human, the shape of the partial hyoid recognizable by its delicate wings and flat body.
“I guess we found him.”
Chapter 5
Araneoidea
Well, I guess we started at the worst. It’s only up from here, right ...?” Lark says, rubbing Rose’s back as she vomits among the chickens. The birds rush toward the splattering sound, anticipating food. “I thought you said you took your meds.”
“Didn’t work,” Rose grits out as she heaves again. More birds flock to her feet and she waves a hand in the direction of the pile of human remains. “I blame the chickens. They’re super gross.”
“You should call Rowan over, Sloane. Maybe take a bird or two for dinner tonight. He could have a full circle moment. Nearly.”
Rose turns her watering eyes up to us when I huff a laugh. “Huh ...?”
“Rowan accidentally ate a guy once. I had to dig human rump roast out of his mouth,” I say with a shrug.
Rose heaves again.
