"One definitely wasn't. Hard to say if there was another."
"Why?"
"Because there are bits everywhere."
"He tore the body apart?" There was no surprise in Michael's voice. But then, why would there be? She knew he'd seen far worse in his time, though he'd never really discussed it with her. She nodded.
"That doesn't make sense if he needed the body for a ritual." No, it didn't. She frowned, forcing herself to look beyond the gore in her memories. "He left a head on the windowsill." She hesitated. "It could have been my twin." Michael wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Warmth leeched from his fingers and body, chasing away the chills that still ran through her. "He's trying to scare you."
"He damn well succeeded."
"You're tougher than that. It's merely the shock of it that got to you." And how.
"Was there only one head?" he continued.
"One is more than enough, believe me."
"Not if two were meant to die tonight."
"There was lots of blood. And blood dripping from the middle of the ceiling." She hesitated, swallowing more water before adding, "The roof."
"The roof," he agreed and removed the warmth of his arm from her shoulders. "You stay here while I check."
"Like hell." She scrambled upright, all awkward arms and legs compared to his elegance. "I'm here for a reason, too, remember, and like it or not, you and I have to be a team on this." He gave her a look that said, Yeah, right . But he didn't try to stop her from following as he turned and made his way around the back of the building.
The stairs were around the far side—an old, rickety, bleached-wood structure that barely seemed capable of supporting a gnat, let alone the two of them.
"Don't say it," she warned, as Michael glanced at her.