The cloaked figure in the shadows watched as his servants prepared the sacrificial altar, splashing the human’s blood over the gray consecrated stone. His body thrummed with excited anticipation of the events to come. It wouldn’t be long before his purpose was fulfilled and he could finally go home.
He’d come to Necropolis years ago, quickly adapting to the city and integrating himself into the Otherworld society. He worked and played just like everyone else. No one had any clue of his true purpose, or his true identity. He had successfully fooled everyone into thinking that he was one of them. Little did they know how wrong they truly were.
One of the servants, an eager young witch, scurried over to where he waited, shrouded in the dark. She bowed to him. “Everything is just as you instructed, Master.”
“Good.” He touched the top of her head. “Soon you will be rewarded for your dedication.”
She bowed again, even lower. “Thank you, Master.” Then she scurried away to finish the last of her tasks.
So eager his servants were to please him. Willing to do anything he asked of them. And he had asked many things. Others he had paid to do his bidding—like the vampire that had acquired the human woman’s blood—and he’d paid well. Money meant nothing to him. He had plenty of it and it was for this purpose only. After the ceremony took place, he’d have no need for money, or anything else he could acquire in this world.
Everything he ever wanted, ever desired, lay within his reach. Soon, he would have more power than any amount of money could buy.
Soon, the world—human and Otherworlder alike—would bow to him.
Chapter 8
“I t’s not vampire, lycan or human.”
Caine frowned at Givon, as he inspected the bone they had found at the crime scene.
Givon had it under his magnifying glass.
“An ape, then?” Eve piped up from her perch beside Caine.
Givon shook his head. “I’m not an expert, but I’d say not.” He pointed to the bone. “If this is a distal phalanx bone, which I’m sure it is, it’s way too short to be human or ape.”
Impatience thumped at Caine’s head, giving him the beginnings of a killer headache.
“What then? Some other animal?”
“I don’t know.” Givon lifted his glasses and rubbed his fingers over the bridge of his nose.
Caine knew his friend well, and was familiar with the subtle nuances of Givon’s body language. Fiddling with his glasses screamed aggravation at not knowing answers.
Sighing, Caine ran his hand through his own hair. He had been hoping for a break, something, anything that would lead them somewhere on this case. So far, they had nothing.
No hits on the Otherworld DNA or fingerprint catalogues. Nothing on the human ones, either. He was hoping the bone would lead them to the next clue, then to the next, like a treasure hunt. Nothing. They were on this hunt without a map to guide them.
“Do we know any anthropologists?” Caine asked.
Givon nodded. “I know a guy who might help us. A civilian, though.”
“Call him, Givon. We need something.”
The door to the morgue opened, and Jace peeked his head in. “We got a hit.”
Minutes later, the whole team gathered in Caine’s office while Eve pulled up the results of her search. The vic’s prints showed up in the system from a prior arrest, a drunk and disorderly.
“Lillian Ann Crawford, twenty years old.” Eve read off the screen. “86 Soleada Way, San Antonio.”
Caine wanted to feel some relief that they had identified their victim, but instead a sense of melancholy washed over him. As he looked around at his team, he could see the same sadness on their collective faces, except maybe Kellen’s. He never seemed fazed by the crimes.
They had a name, which was a good thing, but somehow that seemed to make it more real. Death was always sad, but when it happened to someone so young, Caine felt a sense of loss creep over him.
Shaking off the feeling, Caine addressed Eve. “We need to talk to her family and friends.
Someone knows how this girl ended up in a motel room with a vampire.”