Page 27 of Vows & Violence
I know that voice. Even after everything. Even after the way he left me to burn. “Chief,” I say, tone flat.
“I’m not supposed to be calling you.” His voice is low, strained. “But I need you to listen. The Hollow Sons, you were right. They’ve got their hooks in deeper than we thought.”
I sit up straighter. “How deep?”
“Sheriff’s Department, the local feds. Maybe even someone in the New Orleans PD. The missing-persons dump site youflagged? It’s real. They’ve got a damn burial ground out there. Burned out, buried over, but some of the bodies… they weren’t dead when they went in.”
I swallow hard, my grip tightening around the phone.
“It’s not just some cult anymore, Mercer. It’s a machine. Blackmail, trafficking, hush money. I think they’re planning something big, something public.”
“Where?” I ask, though I already feel the answer crawling up my spine.
“Carnival season,” he says. “Masquerade street party on Royal. Word is, one of the lieutenants is showing up. No name, no face, just a mask. But it’s Verge I’d bet my badge on it.”
I stand, pacing a few steps across the porch. “What aren’t you saying?”
The Chief hesitates. “You remember that old case? The Bayou Widow? The ritualistic killings we never closed?”
“Yeah.”
“It was them. All of it. Mercer… this isn’t over. It never was. And if they know you’re sniffing around.”
“They do.”
Silence. “Then watch your six. And keep that girl of yours close. She’s marked now, too.”
The chief hangs up before I can say anything else. I lower the phone, my heart hammering in my chest.
The sound starts low. Just a hum in the distance, but I know what it is before the porch boards even tremble beneath my boots.
Multiple motorcycles are coming in fast and hot. The bayou quiets like it knows better than to get in their way.
I stand, phone still warm in my pocket, coffee forgotten.
The Non Cras pull in like ghosts, dragging the storm with them. Dust rising, engines idling down one by one.
Phoenix is first off her bike, helmet in hand, jaw clenched. Scissors and Wendigo follow close behind. Gypsy’s already yanking her pack off and heading straight toward the side room with her laptop.
Poison’s eyes meet Kitty’s. Just a flicker of a look, and he’s moving to intercept her with a hand on her lower back.
Phoenix doesn’t look at me. Not right away. Her hands are bloody. Not enough to meanhers, but enough to know something went sideways.
“We got the kid,” she speaks softly, still not meeting my eyes. Her voice is hoarse, like she’s been yelling or crying. I can’t tell which. “But it wasn’t clean.”
I nod once. That’s all she gives me, and it’s all I need. I know what that means in their world.
Gypsy’s voice calls from inside. “MV sent an encrypted file, and I cracked it.”
The whole crew shifts in unison.
“Lieutenant is confirmed,” she says. “Masquerade street fest. Carnival night.”
She swivels her laptop so Phoenix and Poison can see. “MV says:Bring eyes. Stay in the light.”
I look over at Phoenix. She’s finally looking at me now. Her eyes are sharp, guarded, and exhausted.
“You up for a little recon?” I ask her, tone light but heart heavy.
