Page 7 of Behind the Shadows
“No. I can’t wear contacts all the time. I need a break.”
She scoffed. “The devil doing the devil’s work.” She glared at me before she leaned her head on her pillow.
“It’s a good thing I do, or you’d be in a dilapidated nursing home being neglected. I know Cynthia is good to you. You like to bitch and make people feel like shit.”
She huffed. “I’ll pray for your rotten soul, then I’m going to take a nap. You’re draining me.”
I stood, glad our chat had offered an exit into another room. “Sleep well,” I muttered as I walked away, leaving her alone. Unfortunately, it rarely mattered if I was around her or not. She was always in my fucking head. It had to stop, but I wasn’t sure how to silence her.
Or maybe I did.
2
KIP
The stench of death and fear permeated the air, burning my nostrils as I swore under my breath. The abandoned warehouse room was splattered with blood, and entrails littered the concrete floor. Whoever the sorry bastard used to be, he was no longer recognizable.
“You’re late,” Death said, his gaze narrowing behind the grim reaper mask that molded to his face.
I’d known my friend for years, but the hair on the back of my neck still stood on end at times. This was one of those occasions.
“I’m here and that’s what counts, you grumpy bastard.” I placed my hands on my hips, the acrid tang of the slaughter still fresh in the room.
He stood still, his irises glinting dangerously behind the eyeholes of his disguise. “You've never been late before. What’s the problem?” he growled.
I rolled my neck and stared at the ground, trying to dismiss the tension in the air. “I had to take care of some personal business. It took longer than anticipated. It doesn’t matter now, though. There’s a mess to clean up.” I massaged my rightshoulder. “What the fuck are you doing killing in Portland anyway? You’re supposed to be lying low.”
“It’s been months since I played here. Plus, I’ll be heading to the East Coast after we get this shit cleaned up.”
I nodded, agreeing with his plan. “Good, stay the hell away for as long as you can. I can’t keep covering for you if you continue your work here. It’s not as if a serial killer stops drawing attention from the authorities.”
As I approached the mutilated body, I wondered who the man was, and what led him to his gruesome fate. In this city, death was everywhere, and I was a mere shadow in the night.
I knelt, running my fingers through the congealed crimson fluid on the ground, feeling the slick texture beneath it. “Ready to get this shit done?” I asked, barely above a whisper.
My friend nodded slowly, the powerful energy of his presence swallowing any light that tried to enter the room. “Yeah,” he replied.
We left to gather what we needed from my beat-up Mustang’s trunk, leaving the foul stench of death behind us. As we walked, a sense of unease rose, a hint of dread that something was wrong. Portland was already suspicious of my friend, but it was my job to stay one step ahead of the authorities and protect him.
“Who was he?” I asked as we unloaded the tools from my car’s trunk. If I was ever investigated, the chemicals would be a dead giveaway. But thanks to some connections, there was never a paper trail. Those same people had taught me everything I needed to know to make any trace of a person disappear into thin air.
I chucked a respirator at him. “What was the son of a bitch’s sin?”
He reached out with one hand and caught the safety gear midair. “Murdering his wife and two kids. He poisoned the wife over time, so it wouldn’t look suspicious. Once she was gone andhe got a big-ass life insurance policy, he smothered his kids in their sleep.”
A twisted grin eased across his features. “The fucker never saw me coming.”
I chuckled as I collected the needed supplies. “Is water still available in the building?”
“Yeah, can’t clean up without it,” he mumbled.
We walked quietly back into the warehouse, my mind focused on how to most efficiently eliminate the body and scrub away the evidence.
“You’ve not provided me with an update lately. Have you learned anything new from our contact about the case?” He swung open the door and held it for me.
Whenever I assisted Death, I gave him any details I had. I was one of the reasons he’d never been caught. Not only that, but he was a smart motherfucker—brilliant actually. It was one of the reasons we’d become friends in middle school. There was something different about him that drew me in. When I caught him torturing and killing someone, I knew we were made from the same all-consuming darkness.
“My connections say the investigators are struggling to put the pieces together,” I said. “A few leads are pointing toward some fucker they want to pin the murders to. They haven’t done anything yet, but they’re catching heat for not arresting someone.” I gave him a pair of gloves. “They were getting close, but I’ve managed to leave a few clues in the wrong direction to give you some more time to lay low. But when you do this shit in Portland, it makes my job a hell of a lot more difficult.” I blew out a sigh, frustrated that he wasn’t cooperating.
