Page 37 of Lovely Violent Things

“It’s all too closely linked,” she says, shaking her head. “The pieces fit perfectly. Sometimes when I try to think about it from a distance, it feels too immense. And then…I don’t want to think about anything.”

With a lengthy exhale, she swipes a hand across her forehead. “Tragedy is the key here. Not mental illness. Although, through the offender’s method and disassociation with humanity, there could be some onset now. But…” She glances around the ravine, at the death, the mutilation. “There’s an anger here. If this is his art, it’s a violent art. The emotion in this chasm rages.”

My skin prickles at her assertion. The unnerving sensation made more apparent by her words, what I’ve sensed since I first entered the ravine.

“Everything links,” I say, drawing closer. “Always.”

“I know, you’ve told me. Synchronicity.”

“When you’re working a scene, the pieces don’t materialize. They were always there, waiting for you to see the connection. Nothing is ever complicated until we make it so.”

“Maybe that’s true for a person with an IQ of ridiculous.”

I chuckle unexpectedly, then tilt my head as I study her, seeing the smallest spark of her personality shine through the cracks. Halen is so beautifully broken, my chest aches at the immense thought ofher.

Despite the gruesome scenery of our surroundings, or maybe because of it, I’m captivated by her all the more. She could slay me or redeem me with one command, and she still has no idea how much power she wields.

“However you want to define it for the heathens on the task force, you understand his design will be transcendent. His divine masterpiece. Even this dumpsite is a work of art. The macabre atmosphere. The depiction of anguish so gruesome. The feelings of dejected helplessness it conjures. It’s a glimpse into what makes him vulnerable.”

A flash of raw vulnerability registers in her features, but she quickly conceals this as she shifts to look at the sigils on my hand. “Some magical intervention would be appreciated to find the victims.”

Her implication doesn’t go unnoticed. She still believes I’m holding something back.

“The subconscious leads you to the answer, and when it suddenly clicks, it feels like magic.” I run the pad of my thumb over a sigil. “But really, your mind has known it the whole time. Don’t question the design, Halen. The universe never shares its secrets. Just trust the course.”

I drink in the shadow of awe behind the judgement in her expression. She is the loveliest work of art, a masterpiece herself.

“It just feels too convenient,” she says. “All the details, the associations. No case is ever connected this easily.”

“Well then, imagine how difficult it would be if you didn’t have your very own expert on the occult at your service.” I give her the full, beaming wattage of my panty-dropping smile. “In every way your filthy little mind could demand to be serviced. You should really take advantage of me.”

A laugh slips past her lips, the sweet tinkling cadence rushing my system like a potent aphrodisiac, and I swear to whatever higher entity lurks in the sky, my fucking heart damn near explodes.

If I can earn her laugh, then I can earn her trust.

Another gust of wind sneaks into the ravine to send her hair across her eyes, severing the moment, and she tucks the wayward strands behind her ear. “Damn, I really need a haircut,” she mutters.

“Don’t,” is all I say, stoking a heated ember amid her gaze as she looks up at me.

“Halen, here.” Devyn walks over from her zone to hand her a headband. “Use this.”

Halen accepts the gift. “Thanks. Mine snapped somehow.” The accusatory glance she directs at me is only marginally annoyed.

“So do we have proof all this—” Devyn waves a hand at the decomposing remains “—is connected to the same offender? Because Agent Alister is on his way over.”

Once her hair is tied back, Halen points to the symbol on the ravine wall. “We do. But all it confirms is what we already know. I’m not sure where it leads.” She holds up a finger and sets her notebook down. “Oh, and there’s this.”

After Halen locates a stick, she uses it to probe one of the deer carcasses. “Bite marks on the shoulder blade look to be human. I found a few more fresher deer in the remains with similar teeth marks.”

Her gaze meets mine, and the knowledge of what this means passes between us. A stag was found at the first crime scene that had been rend apart by a human.

Alister is texting on his phone as he approaches. “Show me the symbol.”

While Halen conveys the meaning of the philosopher’s stone to Alister, Detective Riddick finds his way over to the group. Suddenly this ravine is way too crowded.

“Did the 3D casts from the stag bite marks at the first scene ever come back with any definitive information?” Halen asks Alister.

Staring hard at the mutilated deer Halen pointed out, he shakes his head. “No match. It was a longshot anyway. That’s a defunct science.”

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