“Sheriff Morrison. We got a call from your supervisor at the NYPD, Detective Gabriel Santos. He said you might need backup.” The sheriff’s gaze swept over the damaged cabin and our disheveled appearance. “Looks like he was right.”
Gabriel Santos. Even in my shocked state, I caught the significance of that name. Gabriel, one of the archangels from the Bible.
“Appreciate the response time, Sheriff,” Eamon said smoothly. “Two suspects, armed and dangerous. They fled the scene mere minutes ago in a black SUV, headed down the mountain.”
“Yeah, they passed us. My deputies are in pursuit,” Morrison said.
Eamon nodded. “There were four more. One’s dead…” Hegestured at a man I hadn’t spotted until now, who was on his back behind the stack of firewood. The snow around him had turned crimson. His eyes stared at the sky, but he’d never see the stars again. My stomach roiled, and I looked away. “There’s a wounded guy behind that car, but he passed out. Inside, there’s a guy down near the front door. Not sure if he’s dead or alive, and there’s another wounded man in the hallway to the bedrooms.”
Morrison merely nodded at two of his deputies, who immediately entered the cabin, guns drawn. “Are you hurt?” he then asked us.
“We’re fine. Shaken up, but fine.”
As if summoned by their conversation, the sound of more vehicles approached from lower on the mountain. I blindly reached for Eamon’s hand, and instead of taking it, he wrapped his arm around me, drawing me close. “Get them some blankets,” Morrison told one of his men. “It’s too cold to be standing here.”
Eamon wrapped the blanket the deputy handed him around me, then pulled me close again, apparently not intending to let me out of his sight. I was more than okay with that. My brain had trouble booting back up, still stuck on the whole wings thing.
Two more sheriffs’ vehicles came into view, their prisoners clearly visible through the rear windows. I recognized Carlo immediately, even with his hands cuffed behind his back. He was talking or maybe shouting, his mouth moving wildly and his face full of expressions.
Sheriff Morrison walked over to confer with his deputies while Eamon and I stood watching. Carlo’s voice carried across the clearing, high and desperate. “—not a cop! He’s not human!Santa madre di Dio, I’m telling you, he had fucking wings! Light was coming out of his skin!”
One of the deputies shook his head with obvious disgust. “Guy’s been watching too many movies. Probably high on something.”
“Detective O’Rourke,” Sheriff Morrison called, walking back toward us. “Your witness here is claiming you’re some kind of…supernatural being?”
Eamon’s expression was perfectly neutral. “A supernatural being?”
The sheriff scratched his chin. “Yeah. With wings?”
Eamon chuckled. “Do I look like I have wings?”
“Son, you look perfectly normal to me. Any idea where he might’ve gotten that impression?”
Eamon shrugged. “People see all sorts of things when they’re trying to evade federal charges.”
Morrison nodded approvingly. “My thoughts exactly. Either that or he’s high on something. We’ll get these guys processed and transferred to federal custody. Your supervisor said NYPD would pick them up tomorrow.”
“These men are extremely dangerous, Sheriff. Take great care.”
Morrison nodded, his face grave. “Chief Santos briefed me on the case. We’re not taking any chances.” The sheriff paused, studying Eamon with professional interest. “Hell of a thing, taking on six armed men with just a service weapon. You must have some serious training.”
“I served in the military, and I’ve had extra training with the NYPD. But I’m grateful for your timely assistance.”
He sounded modest and sincere, even when most of that statement had to be a lie.
“I can offer you folks a place in town for the night. Hotel’s not much, but it’s warm and dry.”
“I appreciate that, Sheriff Morrison, but I thinkwe’re heading out. The NYPD will need our statements as soon as possible anyway, so we’ll head back to the city.”
“Tonight?”
Eamon shrugged. “We may not make it there, but we’ll get close.”
Morrison accepted this with a nod. “The NYPD has requested to process the crime scene, including the bodies, so I’m leaving one deputy here to guard it until they’re here.”
After a few more minutes of paperwork and coordination, the sheriff’s department convoy headed back down the mountain, taking Carlo and his men with them. One car stayed behind, parked right in front of the cabin so the deputy inside could see whatever was coming. He’d dimmed his lights, so darkness had returned.
It felt enormous.
