Page 48 of Lovely Violent Things

Here’s the thing: sociopathy and shallow affect are not a recipe for sinister nature. The melodramatic fucks who weep uncontrollably are the more troubling concern. Behind closed doors, their empathetic feelings suddenly disappear. Poof. All a show to garner sympathy for selfish reasons.

Those people are far more dangerous than your average sociopath.

I might not shed a tear at your funeral, but that’s because I understand we're born to die. This is a purpose, theonlypurpose, we all share. What's the use in mourning an inevitable outcome? To be saddened by this is ridiculous, and frankly, contrived.

Maybe that in itself makes me a sociopath. I can’t be bothered by the labels.

But I'm also not the one who’s going to use your death as an online funding program so I can buy a ticket for a cruise.

A high-pitched screech of feedback emits from the speakers, and Alister taps the microphone. Once he concludes the task force updates, he opens up the room for questions from the press.

A journalist in the front row kicks off the show. “Special Agent Alister, it’s been rumored that the criminologist who was attacked at one of the crime scenes was fired. Can you confirm this?”

Next to me, Halen bristles with unease. Alister looks even less inclined to allow this line of questioning, but he delivers a direct statement. “Dr. St. James was released from her position at CrimeTech for reasons unknown to the FBI.”

The same journalist follows up. “But Dr. St. James is still working the case, is this correct?”

Alister rubs the back of his neck before he answers, first glancing at Detective Riddick. “The local department has retained her expert services as a consultant.”

Another hand goes up, and Alister calls on the reporter. “Is Dr. St. James here to answer questions regarding the attack?”

I dip my head near Halen. “You’re legendary, sweetness.”

“I signed a nondisclosure agreement,” she whispers.

“So don’t disclose anything.”

She releases an annoyed breath. “I’m not as practiced as some in the art of cryptic obscurity.”

I cover my mouth with my hand to conceal a smirk.

Alister tries to deflect the question. “The details of the attack on Dr. St. James are confidential at the moment.” He points to a reporter to move the questions along.

This young, eager reporter goes right to the source. He turns toward the back of the room and singles out Halen. “Dr. St. James, was the man who attacked you into occult practices?”

She looks around as all eyes fall on her. “I apologize, but I’m unable to answer questions about the attack or my attacker.”

Her rebuff doesn’t deter the reporter. “Can you speak up, please? Also, can you offer any insight into what you and your partner have discovered about the perpetrators of the crimes?”

Halen pushes off the block wall and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “For the record, Professor Locke and I are not partners,” she corrects.

“But you are working closely together?”

She glances back at me, and I arch an eyebrow. “We’re both working as tirelessly as all the professionals are on this case,” she answers. “It’s a team effort.”

“Very diplomatic,” I say in a low tone.

Another reporter stands, bypassing Agent Alister to speak to Halen. “Dr. St. James, were you brought on by the local department because of the previous Harbinger killer cases you’ve worked?”

She hesitates, then: “I was already on-site, so it was a matter of convenience to acquire my services. The task force requires all the resources it can get.”

“Are the limited resources the reason why the FBI hasn’t been able to apprehend the perpetrators?”

Halen blinks against the rapid-fire camera flashes. “No, that’s not—”

“What can you tell us about the Harbinger crime scene? Is this the same killer?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the details of the case,” she says simply.

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