Page 26 of Devil Bound
“I’m taking you, but you’re staying in the car,” I told the poodle.“And then I’ll get you back to the Devil.You look like he took good care of you.”
Following Lucifer’s logic, if I gave the poodle back to him after looking after her for a while, he’d owe me and would have to introduce me to Tiamat.The very thought of meeting her excited me, but there was the small matter of a potential series of hate crimes.I hoped Christine was wrong about that.After all, it had been very late by the time I got to the morgue last night, and I had no business coming up with theories like the strappado.
Meeting ancient creation goddesses was going to be my reward; something I could look forward toafterI’d helped Christine deal with her fresh bodies.Oh, heavens, I hoped they were fresh.
Soul had hopped onto the passenger’s seat of my Honda hybrid with ease and sat there as if she belonged.I’d gotten car seat covers after my first case with Brunswick PD—bog revenants reanimated by a magical artifact—and so far, they’d more than paid for themselves.Soul could drool all she wanted, it wasn’t going to bother me one bit.
I’d brought extra coffee in a thermos and was sipping while I navigated the congested streets of Brunswick until I finally got to the salt marshes.Christine’s half hour had been a pretty good estimate, it turned out.
I parked behind the row of police cars that was already there, bordering a cordoned-off area that looked worryingly extensive.Media vans and reporters with their cameras and microphones were setting up shop as close to the perimeter as the patrolling officers allowed.
I reached back to grab my consultant windbreaker from the back seat.It had a pentagram on the chest, indicating to everyone what my consulting was all about.The windbreaker’s collar allowed for at least some cover, and the hood could keep me sheltered from the reporters.I really didn’t need my face all over the evening news.
I scrambled to wiggle into the windbreaker without getting out of the car, and Soul looked at me with those beady eyes, her low growl filling the car, her judgment tangible.
“What?There are no changing rooms anywhere, and the press is waiting right outside.I like my privacy, okay?”
She licked her nose.Her growling intensified.
“Whatever.Stay.”
I got out of the car and made it all of two steps before realizing I should probably crack a window so she didn’t suffocate.If the press saw me put a precious pet in such danger, it might end up being uglier than potential crimes against magic users—not something I needed.
Once I’d opened a window, I got my oversized rubber boots from the trunk and slipped those on before walking toward the police tape.The boots were the very ones I had bought that day I’d run into the Devil while shopping.
I tossed my Converse into the trunk, shivering not from the cold wind but from the remembered awkwardness of that day.How was it fair to run into someone so incredibly hot while you were wearing poorly enchanted socks?
It really wasn’t, but just like I had then, I told myself it had been the universe’s way of telling me to stop fantasizing about…anything related to Lucifer.He was a fruity cocktail that tasted like it didn’t have any alcohol in it, and if you sucked that straw, well, you’d get plastered before you knew it, and then you’d end up dancing naked on a table, and I was a very bad dancer.
For that reason, the Devil wasn’t for me.
At any rate, my embarrassment had made it so I never wanted to go buy rubber boots ever again.The spell I had handcrafted and infused into the boots made them repel pretty much anything that came in fluid form, and they were as durable as Kevlar.No one had taught me how to do that at the Collegium, thank you very much, higher magical education.
As I walked toward the scene, I looked around at where the officers were working.The day was bright, and only a few clouds broke the perfect blue of the sky over the ocean that stretched out beyond the marshes.The salty brine smell that rode inland with the waves was already tickling my nose, but while the wind was nice, the late-season warmth underneath it did not bode well for the state of the bodies.It was October now, but if they’d been here all through summer, they’d be very ripe.
The officer guarding the tape looked mildly bored.He waved me through without checking my ID.Most officers knew me at a glance, because while I wasn’t Brunswick PD’s only magic user on staff, I was their only necromancer.We were rare enough to begin with, even rarer in law enforcement, and it made sense to spread us out over departments, then deploy us as much as was practical.
I spotted Christine over to the right, by the white tents the crime scene people set up for their evidence gathering.Taking a deep breath to steel myself for whatever was to come, I walked up to her.
She was talking to another detective I didn’t know.The sea breeze had pulled strands of her dark blonde hair from her bun, and I realized she’d probably gotten even less sleep than I had.She turned toward me at the exact moment my foot caught on a rock, and I stumbled a little.
“Hawkes, you okay?”
“Sure, just a stupid rock.”
“Right.Meet Mitch Lewis, the latest addition to our unit.He transferred to homicide from vice.Started this morning.”Christine stepped aside to reveal the second most gorgeous man I had laid eyes on that day, except this one was human and mortal andreal.
“Hi,” I said lamely, holding out my hand for him to shake.
Mitch took it without hesitation, which I appreciated.Some magic users could do a lot with skin-to-skin contact—a gleaning of thoughts, controlling physical movement, and more.That didn’t mean everyone could or would, but prejudices still ran deep.It was nice to meet someone who didn’t come with that kind of baggage.
“Hello.”Mitch had a deep and steady voice that made me imagine myself huddled in a warm blanket by a crackling fire.“Christine tells me you’re the one who gets the bodies to talk.”
Oh, sweet gods, yes please.That voice, short blond hair, and deep brown eyes—maybe I could have handled that combo, but the way he was smiling at me and gently squeezing my hand a full two seconds longer than strictly necessary?I was fucked.Or, more precisely, I wanted to get fucked.By Mister Sexy Detective Lewis.
Next to me, Christine crossed her arms.“Yes, bodies,” she said, the impatience in her voice impossible to miss.“I need you to get to those.”
So much for the pleasantries and my own personal fantasies of sneaking away with Sexy Detective Lewis to steal a kiss.
