“Sometimes possessions can result in traces of sulfur being found in the bloodstream,” Storm said. “I’ve never heard of it being in someone’s stomach.”
“Could it have… wound up there during the death? It was rather violent.” He glanced between both Glinda and Storm.
“It was, and I considered that, but the stomach was intact,” Glinda said. “All of the trauma was located higher, in the chest cavity, but his lower abdominal organs—mostly everything below the diaphragm—were all undamaged. I found the bone and sulfur right next to what I think was a McChicken.”
Bile rose in Nathan’s throat, and he swallowed hard.
Glinda cast him a weary smile. “Sorry. Gallows humor. You’ve got to have it to survive a job like this. Shall I open it up or no? I don’t want you to hurl.”
They both looked athim, and Nathan squared his shoulders. This was his job; just because Storm was here with him this time didn’t mean he could be any less than a captain of the guild should be. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Sloan would probably take him off the case if he failed to inspect the body himself, and he didn’t want this going to anyone else.
Glinda opened the cabinet, and Nathan stepped back as she slid the body out. It was blessedly covered in a sheet, and Nathan averted his eyes as she drew it back.
“Goddamn,” Storm murmured, and Nathan braced his hands on his hips, unable to bring himself to look.
He’d killed hundreds of monsters. He’d seen men and women take grievous injuries—had taken a few of his own, at that. This wasn’t his first dead body. Hell, the pentagram killer case had probably been just as gory as this boy’s death, if not more. Why was this one different from all the others?
Was it because Storm was with him this time? With his squad, he was the leader, the captain. He was in charge and expected to be the strongest and steadiest. But Storm had put a crack in his mask, and he couldn’t hide anymore. He’d been wrong-footed since last night, and what once was rote now felt brand new. He was facing the world like a raw nerve now, exposed and aching with every experience.
“Nate.” A strong hand touched his shoulder. Storm’s thumb brushed the bare skin just past his collar, and he was too weak to resist drifting a step closer. “It’s okay.”
Nathan nodded. Bracing himself, he looked at the body.
His chest cavity gaped open, and a white, plastic sack sat inside it. His spine was intact and visible. Part of Nathan wondered who the poor, unfortunate soul was who was responsible for gathering all the pieces from the scene of the… crime? It felt like a crime. An unnatural crime against humanity itself. He’d seen exorcisms of possessor demons on tape during his schooling at the guild, but he’d never seen a live one before. They weren’t supposed to be like this. They could control the host, yes, and do terrible things, but they couldn’t dothis. They couldn’t punch their way out of an innocent boy. This wasn’t right.
Dried blood was dotted on the boy’s neck and face. A droplet of it had landed in the corner of his eye.
“Smells like sulfur,” Storm murmured.
Nathan couldn’t smell it, but he wasn’t a demon. Glinda glanced over at them but didn’t ask.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to make sense of anything I see here,” Nathan admitted. “I can barely tell which… chunk used to go where.” He was certain his face was an interesting shade of green right now.
“Thatisa dilemma,” Storm said. He cast about for something and reached for a box of latex gloves with an askance look at Glinda.
“Oh, yes, by all means,” she said. “I can remove this bag if you need.”
“That’d be great, thanks.”
Oh, God, Nathan thought. He didn’t want to see Storm stick his hand in there. But he was snapping on a glove, and Glinda was doing the same, removing the bag and setting it farther down, on the body’s legs.
Storm leaned closer, tugging the ribcage up and tilting his head to look underneath it. “There’s something under here. Come here and look at this, Nate.”
“Mary, mother of Christ, give me the strength not to hurl all over Storm and the body, please and thank you, amen.”
Storm shot him a sardonic look. “Hilarious.”
“I’m not joking at all.” Reluctantly, he sidled closer and peered at whatever Storm was looking at. Streaks on the underside of the bones. “Are those… claw marks?”
“Mm-hm.” Storm straightened, snapping his glove off and tossing it into the garbage can nearby. “That demon tried to claw its way out of him. I’m thinking the body died before the demon could gain a foothold. Which,” he looked dubious, “might be a good thing. It means there’s at least one way to stop the possessor from getting out. It needs a living host to escape.”
“But… why?” Nathan asked. That knowledge was useful, maybe, but he didn’t like the implication. He didn’t want to kill a human to stop a demon. That wasn’t a trade he was willing to make. The innocent life should always come first.
Storm shook his head. “I can’t say for sure. I think we should head back to the Rink. Some of the others have been around longer than me. I’d like to get their opinions first.”
“Sure, yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Maybe the fresh air would help him clear his head—and control his stomach.
Glinda cleaned up quickly, covering the body and returning it to the cabinet. They walked out together, and Nathan felt like he could breathe easier when she closed the door behind them, hiding the room from view.
