A Terrible Fall of Angels (Zaniel Havelock #1)(30)

I swallowed hard. “Connery is only three, I thought it got better as they got older.”

“It gets better in some ways, harder in others as they get older, and teenagers through their twenties is a minefield I don’t envy any parent.”

“I thought eighteen and they were grown-ups,” I said.

Charleston laughed.

“I am never having children,” Lila said.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE




The skin fragments were so thin they were like cloudy plastic that you could see shadows through. “Are you sure that this is human skin?” I asked.

Charleston held the piece delicately between his gloved fingertips. You’d think someone with fingers that thick would be clumsy, but his hands were just as delicate as they had been when he was catching footballs in the NFL.

“There’s a piece that they already bagged and tagged that’s got what’s left of the tattoo from his hip. DNA will tell us for sure that it’s Cookson, but the nurses remember the tattoo, and it’s distinctive.”

“What was it, the tattoo, I mean?”

“The usual devil shit,” Lila said.

“What’s that mean?” I asked.

Charleston answered, “Upside-down pentagram with a devil-goat-head-looking thing above it. Terrible tattoo, the kind you’ll cover up in a few years if you can find someone willing to try.”

“At least it was small, that’s an easier cover-up than a big one,” Lila said.

“I don’t think he has to worry about bad ink now,” I said, staring at the piece of skin.

“Yeah, I guess not,” Lila said, and she looked sad now, as if the cocky, wisecracking mask had slipped.

“Possessed individuals do not turn into full demon form, and they sure as hell don’t shed their skins like a damn snake,” Charleston said.

“His skin was reddish in the hallway, like whoever’s imagination had turned him into the movie demon, so why does the skin left behind look like it was just Cookson’s body in this room?” I asked.

“Excellent question,” Charleston said.

“Could it have been a really good illusion like most demonic powers?” Lila asked.

“Illusion can make you hurt yourself, or somebody else hurt you, but it can’t hurt you,” Charleston said.

One of the techs came up gloved and covered head to foot in protective gear. “We need that now, Lieutenant.”

“Has anyone used the protective suits in a live field exercise with real magic?” I asked.

“They told us everyone wears the suit on all supernatural-related crime scenes until further notice, that’s all I know,” the tech said.

“That you, Berger?” Bridges asked.

“Yeah, now give me my evidence.”

“Our evidence,” Bridges said, but Charleston just helped slip it into the container that Berger held up.

“Think what you want to think, Bridges, you always do anyway,” Berger said, but his eyes through the face shield were all for the near-translucent sliver of skin until he had it safely contained and closed up nice and safe.

“You’re just sore because I wouldn’t date you,” she said.

“Being attracted to you made me question my masculinity, Bridges; you’re just too much man for me.”

“That I believe,” she said, and smiled, pleased with herself. A lot of female cops tried to be one of the boys, but none of them worked as hard to be better than the men as Lila did.

“I’ll take Lila at my back ahead of most of the men I know,” I said.

“Me, too,” Charleston said.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Unless we need someone to reach the top shelf for us,” Charleston said.

“Well, there is that,” I said, as if it hadn’t occurred to me before.

“Screw you guys,” she said.

“Lila, I’m shocked, you were at the meeting about sexually appropriate workplace vocabulary,” Charleston said, but smiled as he said it.

“Fine,” she said, “fuck you guys.” She smiled at him and added a middle finger.

“If we did it to her, you’d write us up,” Berger said.

“Don’t you have evidence to test or something?” she said.

Berger started to reply, but Charleston cut him off. “Go do your job, Berger. Bridges will stay here and do hers.”

The tech went off without another comment, but something about the exchange had gone beyond the usual bantering at crime scenes. It made me wonder if Lila had more history with Berger that I didn’t know about, but then she didn’t know all the details about my personal life either. We were work friends and that was it. I’d worked hard to make sure that the most attractive female officer on our unit was just a friend. The only thing worse than a messy divorce was one that involved someone from work. If I went down in flames with Reggie, I didn’t want to burn up my career along with my marriage.

“Are you seriously telling me that skin fragments like that are the most you’ve found of the . . . Cookson?” I asked.

“So far,” Lila said.

I shook my head. “His whole body should be in that room, maybe even still alive, left behind when the demon was forced to flee.”