Thomas picks up the other concealment amulet. “You should wear this. If they’re looking for monsters, they’ll have to try harder.”
Jacques takes the amulet and slips it over his head. His wings glow blue for a split second and then disappear. I haven’t seen him without wings, and the sight of him looking human makes me feel like I’m looking into my dream again, and we’re about ready to go out and have a normal evening together without worrying about people spying and demons attacking. He looks behind him, flexing his shoulders.
“You did an excellent job on the spell, Ace.”
“Thanks. I still need to make two more. I’ll pick up more crystals tomorrow.” I push up off the couch and make it a few feet before my phone rings. It’s work.
“Dammit,” I grumble, and hurry to get my phone from my purse. “Bisset,” I answer.
“Hey, Ace,” Officer Nick Beasley says. “I got something for you.”
“Another body?”
“Even better. Your killer attacked a girl, and she got away.”
* * *
“I was goingto my car for my break,” Anna Webber, the most recent victim, says. She’s sitting in the back of an ambulance, blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Physically, she’s fine, having escaped with a few scratches and bruises. “He was crouching down behind it and jumped me before I knew what was happening. Once he grabbed me, I went into autopilot or something.” Her eyes, which are heavily lined in black, fill with tears. “My dad’s a Marine and taught me martial arts as soon as I could walk.”
“Did you hurt him?” I ask. “Anything significant that might make him seek medical attention?”
“I twisted his arm, but I don’t think it broke. I kneed him in the dick and that’s how I was able to get away.”
“Do you take your breaks around the same time every night?”
“Yeah. Whenever I’m working that shift.”
“And you usually go to your car?”
She nods, black hair falling into her face. If you were going on stereotypes, Anna fits what one might paint a modern-day witch to look like. “Yeah. It’s quiet out there.”
“You said you didn’t see his face since he was wearing a mask, but is there anything else you remember that could help us identify him?”
She closes her eyes. “He’s white, and didn’t feel much taller than me. He smelled like cigarettes. Sorry I can’t help more.”
“That’s a big help right there.”
“There’s one more thing,” she says, hands trembling. “He called me a sinner.”
“Do you identify as a Wiccan?”
She opens her eyes. “I consider myself more Pagan.”
“Are you open about it?”
Reaching inside the blanket, she pulls out a necklace with a large triple moon symbol engraved on a silver circle. “Yeah.”
I question her a while more, then look around the scene of the attack. The killer watched her long enough to learn her patterns, to know she comes out here alone at night. I find cigarette butts on the parking lot near a dumpster. Bagging them for evidence, I’m willing to bet the killer stood here waiting, lighting up one after another to kill the time.
I have my team go around the area, checking for surveillance footage from nearby businesses to this minimart. I go back to the station and spend a few hours at my desk, trying to see if there are any connections between Lily, Josh, and Anna that could let me know how the killer is picking his victims. He knew they were all Wiccan or Pagan, and went after them when he knew they’d be alone.
His first murder went according to plan. He wasn’t able to stage the second, and his third got away. If he feels like he has to complete a ritual or is doing God’s work by ridding the world of sinners, he’s feeling pretty desperate right now and will strike again.
It’s nearly dawn by the time I get back to the house. Nothing eventful happened while I was away, thankfully, and Jacques said he walked around the house looking for anything out of the ordinary, and didn’t find anything.
“I should take a look too,” I tell him. “I’m a detective, after all.”
“You’re a tired detective,” Jacques reminds me. “You need to sleep while we’re still here and you’re protected.”
