“The dog Damian was returning? They found the owner dead.” My hand moves of its own volition to cover my gasp. Sniper’s eyes dart to mine before he continues, “it wasn’t natural causes. There were signs of trauma to the victim and a symbolpainted on the wall.” He taps his phone screen a few times then places it face up on his desk, turning it toward Justice and I.
“No, no, no, no, no,” comes out of my lips unbidden as Justice curses loudly before shooting up out of his seat.
“What the fuck? We took care of the unworthy! Every last one of them!” he hisses. His head falls back on his shoulders, fingers linked behind his neck as he paces.
“I thought so too,” Sniper answers. “Any ideas on how this shit pops up in Bellefont and of everyone in the fucking state of Louisiana it’s Vex who walks into it?”
My back stiffens at the mention of Bellefont. It affects Justice too because he freezes mid-pace and turns to stare at me.
“What?” I ask, suspiciously.
“I knew that place looked familiar.” He shakes his head. “When I went with Damian to pick up Joe’s dog he did the driving. I didn’t pay too much attention where we were going because I was distracted, Damian talked the whole damn time. Dammit!”
“Prospect!” Sniper barks, calming Justice’s downward spiral. “What’s the significance?”
“There’s a house there. I overheard my - Elder Blessing - talk about it with some of the council. I’m not sure of the significance or who would know about it, but he’d take trips there.”
Sniper looks at me and I shrug. “I’m the eldest and was married off at 14. I’ve never heard anything about a house in Bellefont.”
“Your husband wasn’t worthy,” Justice says with a tight smile. “Only the worthy council members were part of the conversation.”
“And these members?”
“Dead. Blanche killed them all.” I say, because I know the answer to that question. I was there. I lived through it and I rejoiced when it was over.
Sniper leans back in his chair, quietly mulling things over before he throws his hands up. “We need more information. Let’s wait for Dex and the others, hopefully they know shit.”
I hope so too. I have people here that need my protection, not me looking over my shoulder for someone from my past.
Chapter 12
Vex
Istare down at the man on the table, trying to wrack my brain on whether he’s familiar or not. I mean, it’s going to be hard to pinpoint him exactly, given he’s looking pretty shitty, but still. If he was a part of Eden’s Keep I’d know, wouldn’t I?
“Tell me he ain’t fixin’ to keep doin’ that,” a feminine voice cuts through my haze.
“Momma, I told you, he’s tryin’ to place him.”
My gaze flicks from the dead man lying on the stainless steel table in front of me, to the mother-son duo across the room. I’d love to see what Damian’s father looks like out of interest purely because he looks a hell of a lot like his mother. Sturdy and tall, although her bright blonde Peggy Bundy hairdo could have something to do with that. Damian’s mother Nancy is the exact woman I pictured to have birthed the big blonde fucker. What I didn’t expect was the gentle voice, manners and poise that came wrapped in that statuesque package. She greeted me like I imagined my mother would have were she still alive.
“Sorry, Mrs Devereaux. I’m trying to figure out if I know him. He’s vaguely familiar…” I drift off as my gaze drifts back to his mangled face and body.
She studies my face, then the face of the dead guy before nodding once with a small smile on her lips and leaving the room.
“You gon tell me what got you all freaked out?” Damian asks, leaning on the stainless steel table, arms folded over his huge chest.
“What makes you think I’m freaked out?”
He raises a blonde brow, then looks at his nails as if there is something really interesting there. “I dunno, could be you can’t stop looking at him. Could be that whatever he gon through maybe seem familiar and all that.”
I study Damian from my position on the other side of the stainless steel table and then jump when Nancy comes barreling through the door.
“I knew these were going to come in handy one day,” she murmurs in her sweet voice.
She places her hands on the corpse’s face, using her thumb to peel open one eyelid, wrestling something inside the socket, then doing it again on the other side.
“Voila! Is that better, cher? Do you recognize him now?” She stands back, admiring her work with the glass eyes and I stare at the man on the table. “Oh! And your little friends are here too,” she spins to pat Damian on the cheek and I try not to snort when he tries to dodge her hand.
