Page 37 of The Arbiter

He shrugs his shoulders and Larkan snaps his head over to look at him. Bennet notices the feral look that he’s giving him. “What? I don’t like it any more than you do, but we can’t rule it out. I hold nothing against the Damned as long as they obey the laws. However, I do believe that I am in the minority on that. There are several that I know personally that I wouldn’t put it past.”

“Do you think any of them could do this?” I ask him, hoping that he’ll tell me the truth.

Sighing, he says, “No. Being the lead on the case, I had to ask around just to be sure, and let’s just say, it didn’t go over well. They knew that I was just trying to do my job, but it doesn’t change the fact that questioning them is just as good as an accusation in our world.”

“Shit,” Larkan mumbles, turning to look out the window.

Bennet nods. “Yeah, it’s a mess and a half down here right now. May need to transfer up north after all of this is said and done.”

I roll my eyes and find a spot to look at outside the dark window. Looks like I’m not the only one here who isn’t very subtle. As I’m looking out, a flash of something catches my attention.

“Stop the car,” I tell Bennet quietly.

Both of the Rites turn to look at me like I’ve lost my mind, but after a confirming nod from Larkan, he does as I ask.

I step out into the sweltering humidity. The night seems to quiet with only the sound of frogs and crickets echoing in the distance. My low-heeled boots clack against the concrete as I make my way over to where I saw the light. It’s in the middle of a three-way stop.

A surge of power goes through me, and I can feel my second form take over.

“He was here,” I whisper.

Bennet’s voice confirms it from behind me. “Yeah, this is where it happened. How did you know?”

I ignore the question and ask one of my own. “Who died?”

My connection to the Damned has developed immensely since becoming the Arbiter, and as I stand in this three-way, I can feel the bond that had been broken by death.

He clears his throat. “According to the Damned who claimed the body, a Strige named Rafael. The driver was shot too, but he’s not awake yet. There were complications getting the bullet out, and they aren’t sure if his brain was permanently damaged or not.”

Rafael is dead. This whole time, it hasn’t felt real. The weight of the situation rests on my shoulders, and I feel them sag in defeat. Monroe is nowhere close. That much I can feel all the way down to my bones. Whoever took him will hold true to their word, and he won’t be safe until I give myself over to them.

Catching the last part of a conversation between the two Rites, I tell them, “It won’t be necessary to go any further. I’ve gotten all I can from this spot, so there’s no need.”

Bennet stares at me with his mouth open, catching flies, but Larkan is watching my face. “Are you sure?” he asks.

I regretfully nod. “I feel a faint trace of him, but he’s nowhere close.”

“Do you still want to go talk to his people?” Bennet asks.

My eyes find Larkan’s, and he shrugs, leaving the choice up to me. It’s not my place to stick my nose in Monroe’s personal affairs down here. There’s nothing they can tell to help me find him, that much I know for sure. Whoever did this made sure that it wasn’t going to trace back to them. Worse, they made it look like the Rites were the ones who did it. I know everyone thinks I’m a Rites supporter anyway, especially now that I’m the Arbiter, but I can feel the signatures radiating through this area. Must be one of my newest powers. Several Rites have been here, but I get the sense it was mere curiosity. Much like someone investigating the accident like good old Bennet here. This was definitely not something done by them, but there’s no reason to tell them just yet. At least not until I know without a doubt.

Shaking my head, I answer, “No, it won’t do any good.” I feel a moment of soul crushing agony at not being able to get him back, but then I remember that I’m the fucking Arbiter. Hewillcome home, and whoever’s responsible will feel my wrath.

The silence on the ride back to the airport is almost tangible, but neither of them break it. Even the once talkative Rite. I get lost in my head as I feel that tug in my gut letting me know that Monroe is still alive. The night I became the Arbiter, a connection was opened between me and all of the Damned, but what I have with Monroe is different – deeper. Maybe it’s because I’ve fed from him and his essence is trapped inside of me, making it easier to track him, or maybe it’s as simple as location. Maybe I’m closer to him than I realize. This shit would be so much easier if I could ask for advice from the only other person that would know about these powers, another Arbiter. Too bad they all fucking die before passing any of this information along to anyone. I add this to my growing mental list of stuff to work on after these sickos are caught.

We say our goodbyes to Bennet in the same place he picked us up from. Even with all the turmoil running through my head, it makes me a little sad to say goodbye to him. Which is weird because I just met him, but there’s something there that I just can’t figure it out. A connection of a sorts, perhaps? That’s something worth coming back to explore if I make it out of this alive.

Larkan goes to step inside, and I stop him. “We should drive back.”

His eyes narrow. “No, we’re flying. For a couple reasons.” He holds the door open for me and continues. “For one, I know what’s going on inside that crazy head of yours, and we don’t go looking for trouble.Especiallywithout backup. I don’t think it would do any good anyway because I don’t think they’d stick around the area with him. And for two, something has been nagging me since we left. Just wisps of a bad feeling. We need to get home.”

Who am I to question the intuition of a Rite? So, for the second time in less than twelve hours, we get on a plane heading to what could potentially be disaster.

***

Bennet

In all of my existence, I have never come close to the line that separates Divine and Damned. Not many of us Rites have, but me especially. Preferring to do things strictly by the book for more than obvious reasons that I've never told anyone.

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