Ghostly Justice (Seven Deadly Sins, #2.5)(5)

“Someone is going to be prosecuted for her murder; we’ll need the evidence to convict.”

Rafe kept his eyes on Moira. She wasn’t telling them everything she’d felt, and he wanted to take her away right now and give her some peace. Lowering her barriers and letting her senses feel magical energy was both stressful and damaging for her, in ways he didn’t think she recognized yet. And St. Michael’s didn’t care, as long as Moira could discern and stop the dark forces.

“What did you feel?” Rafe asked quietly.

“It’s been too long for anything specific,” she said, but she wouldn’t look at him. “She was sacrificed,” she whispered. “I need some air.”

She didn’t wait, leaving the room without looking back. He didn’t want to let her go, but he didn’t have a choice.

He had questions that needed to be answered. But first, he had to get Grant and Fern out of the room.

Rafe glanced over to where Amy Carney’s ghost stood, watching them. Rafe had felt her presence the moment they walked into the crypt, and saw her when they came into the viewing room. She knew he could see her, but hadn’t attempted to communicate. He didn’t want to scare her off, so tried to ignore her. It wasn’t easy to ignore a ghost.

To Fern, he said, “Can you cover her body?” Then he said to Grant, “I need everything you have about this case.”

“So this is one of those things,” Grant said vaguely.

“You thought so too otherwise you wouldn’t have called us,” Rafe said. “Blood rituals are nothing new to those who practice dark magic.”

Grant ran his hands over his unshaven face. “Vampires? Magic? What are we with dealing with here?”

“There are two kinds of vampires. Most are harmless making a lifestyle choice, as Fern said, wearing gothic or Victorian garb, listening to specific music, shunning the sun, participating in role-playing games. This is nothing new to you I’m sure.

“Then, there are the people who claim they ‘need’ blood to survive,” Rafe continued. “They find willing donors who give them their blood to drink. There are dentists who put in implants or file their teeth. They think they’re vampires. Whether they believe they are immortal or not, I don’t know, but they begin acting in specific ways and don’t function as well outside of the subculture. But when the blood drinkers engage in occult practices, all bets are off. That’s what we have here—why Moira was so upset. Whatever ritual was used when they killed Amy is demonic in nature. She was a sacrifice.”

“Isn’t that just f*cking terrific,” Grant snapped. “My boss is not going to buy into human sacrifices. I was hoping you’d tell me there was nothing here, that this was some kind of crazy but completely natural serial killer.” He stared at the body. “Fern, were you able to get DNA from the saliva in the bite mark?”

“Yes—female.”

“You’re saying a woman bit her neck?”

“Yes. We put it in the system, and since this case is six months old, when I got your call yesterday, I checked on the status. They have run the sample and have markers, but no matches in the database.”

“But if we find a suspect—”

“—we can match the DNA,” she finished his sentence.

Grant flipped through the folder. “No sexual assault, no other injuries. She was washed?”

“Pampered is more like it. She had residual lotions and oils. We have samples of everything, if you want to pursue that further. It’s all pending lab work.”

Rafe looked in the box. Moira had been so upset, but had she seen what was in here or just felt it? He picked up a small plastic bag. Inside were several white flowers. “Lilies.”

“Do they mean anything?” Grant asked.

Amy’s ghost spoke to Rafe for the first time. No one else heard her, and he realized she was talking in his head. A chill ran down his spine, but he listened. She could help stop these people.

They dropped white flowers on my body. It would have been beautiful if I wasn’t dying.

“Cooper?” Grant snapped his fingers. “What do the flowers mean?”

Rafe said, “Lilies are a sign of purity, of life and death, among other things. I suspect she’s a virgin.”

I am.

“Virgin sacrifices?” Grant hit his fist on the wall. “I was crazy to call you. I don’t know what I was thinking. I have a place to start—the vampire subculture. You can go home.”

“We can help,” Rafe told him.

“One word gets out about virgin blood sacrifices or any shit like that, and it’s going to be media hell,” Grant said. “No.”

“Yes,” Rafe said. “You need us.”

“This is so screwed,” Grant said. He looked at sheet with Amy Carney’s dead body beneath. Finally, he said, “Fine. But I’m keeping a tight leash on you and your girlfriend.”

“I understand,” Rafe said. “I’m going to look for Moira.” He stepped out, closing the door behind him. “Amy?” he whispered.

She manifested herself next to him.

I knew you could hear me. Are you going to help me?

“I hope so. Who did this to you?”

I just want to go home.