Page 30 of Mystic Justice
‘I’ve been nice to you and so far it hasn’t done me any good,’ he pointed out.
Loki was hiding in the trees, cloaked by darkness; as soon as he’d seen Jude Jingo, he’d taken to the skies so that the doppelgänger wouldn’t see him. Even now, I didn’t know how long Jingo had kept the caladrius in a cage. All Loki had said was ‘long’. I didn’t like seeing the normally bolshie bird scared.
For all his smiles and supposed civility, I couldn’t let myself forget that what Jingo presented was a front; beneath it seethed a being with no morals and no boundaries. He had no regard for the sanctity of life. Jingo took what he wanted from life and he killed those that dared resist.
It wasn’t a stretch to think that he might somehow be at the heart of this. I could have imagined it was an eye-for-an-eyevendetta – except for the fact that a centaur was now involved and Jingo had willingly called the Connection.
Kate was kneeling by the body. She murmured something and touched it, then runes appeared in a flash of light. They were scorched into the very bone.
Just like Moss Hollings.
It looked like we had a serial killer on the loose.
Chapter Fifteen
It was late when Krieg pulled up outside my flat but we were both too tired to even think about flirting. It had taken hours for Kate and Ed to scrape the body off the rockery and magically remove all traces of it before the park opened for another day. Destroying evidence wasn’t ideal but it was necessary to keep the Other hidden. Besides, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be bringing the culprits to trial; serial killers had a tendency to go down swinging.
These weren’t impulsive killings so I wouldn’t feel remorse. The murders had to have a purpose – the runes spoke of ritual – and if I could just work outwhythey were happening I was sure it would crack the whole case wide open.
The problem was that we had a John Doe. There was no ID on the body, and the centaur appeared to have landed head and chest first, so there was no way we’d get a visual identification. His flesh had been torn from his bones and his jaw was hanging off his face, so dental records were out as a means of identifying him. I had to hope that his prints were in our system or someone reported him missing – and soon.
Channing had checked SPEL but we had no reports about a missing centaur in the Merseyside and Cheshire areas. Tomorrow we’d widen the search radius, but for now I had nothing and that frustrated the hell out of me. John Doe, John Stallion, whoever he was his family and friends deserved to know his fate, to get closure. I knew first-hand how much it sucked to lose someone you loved, and not being told why they’d been ripped from you was rubbing Himalayan salt in the wound.
‘Inspector,’ Krieg murmured, drawing my attention back to him. ‘You’re dead on your feet. Come on, I’ll see you to your door.’ He went round the car to open my door for me and I let him; it seemed to make him happy.
‘I don’t need you to do that,’ I said reflexively, though itwasnice. Sam could never have done that, could never have protected me. Not that I needed it. But still … it was nice.
Loki was uncharacteristically silent on my shoulder and that worried me a little. Usually when we were in Krieg’s car he flew to the back seat and snarked around, strutting back and forth on the headrest and threatening to poo on the leather. Today he’d huddled into me, the insult back in Kate’s morgue neither forgotten nor forgiven. I didn’t like his silence.
If I’d had more time or headspace, I’d have dug into it but Loki’s unusual manner wasn’t deadly, whereas my cases were. They needed all of my mental prowess. When I’d closed them I’d focus on what ailed my feathered friend. Maybe by then he’d be ready to tell me. In the meantime, I’d be there for him, offering him silent, supportive friendship.
It was the kind of friendship that I valued. It didn’t come with glittering presents and loud nights out, but it was constant and unwavering through thick and thin. Despite myself, I pictured a younger Kass holding me as I sobbed my heart out, unable to voice the full horrors of what I’d been through. She’d neverpressed me and I’d valued that. I would do the same for Loki and hope that it would also be enough.
True to his word, Krieg cleared the way to my front door then held out a hand, tacitly asking for my key. I had no doubt he could gain entry without one, but I passed it over so he could go room to room and check my flat for me.
I stepped inside and watched him move through my space. His movements were fluid, like a prowling puma. There was something about him that told my inner goblin he was a deadly predator; worse, my id knew he could procreate and provide, and it was determined to give him a chance to prove it. My superego knew that procreating with the King of Ogres was a very bad idea but my ego was stuck, torn between my basic bitch urges and my lofty ideals.
If I were sensible, I’d cut him loose. He was a risk to my career and my heart. And yet…
He turned to face me. ‘All clear.’
‘No monsters in my flat?’ I quipped.
His face grew solemn. ‘Only this one,’ he said softly.
Just like that, my id stomped on my superego. ‘You’re not a monster!’ I protested.
‘You don’t know who I am yet, Inspector,’ Krieg said almost reluctantly.
I closed the distance between us, squared up and lifted my face to look at him, then I did one of the riskiest things you can do with an ogre: I held his gaze. I held it for five long seconds and then I spoke one word: ‘Bullshit.’
My expletive startled him and he barked a laugh. ‘I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before.’
‘Then you’re overdue.’ I tapped him on his solid chest. ‘I may not know your favourite food or your favourite colour, but I’m certainly beginning to seeyou. I know what manner of man you are, Robbie Krieg, and you’re a good one.’
As he opened his mouth to protest, I reached up and laid a finger across his full lips. ‘I’m not saying you haven’t done bad things, but I suspect that you’ve always done them for the right reasons, just like I have. I’ve killed people too, Krieg. Don’t look at me with those gooey eyes and think I’m a saint because I’m not.’
His lips brushed my finger and I let it drop. ‘Gooey eyes?’ he grinned.
