Raised in Fire (Page 4)

“Can’t a person kill with magic?”

“Absolutely. Which is why I think this was done out of anger, or passion of some kind. She is powerful enough, and knowledgeable enough, to kill with magic. But instead, she hacked away at his neck.” My phone vibrated again. I gritted my teeth. “The last thing, and then I’ll leave you to your deductions”—so I could yell at whoever was repeatedly bothering me—“is that blanket spell. A treasure hunt, perhaps. Looking for—”

“I know what she was doing in there!” Clarissa emerged from the sitting room. Her eyes twinkled. “The perpetrator was trying to find something.”

“What do you think that might be?” Sean asked her.

Leaving them to chat, I wandered into the kitchen. No magic. Jogging now, I headed into a back bedroom. The searching spell was even thicker in here. Headier. She’d used more power, probably suspecting this was where her treasure was hidden.

Just real quick, because my curiosity was burning, I did a look-n-see, immediately finding the disturbed closet. She’d torn the thing apart. There was no way to tell if she’d found what she was looking for.

Back in the living room, I took out my phone. An SOS 911 message, signed Smokey—how did he get my number?—a voicemail, and a text message from the captain. Call ASAP. We got a nasty one. I need the whole team on this one.

“Oh it’s happening,” I said with a surge of excitement. “I’m finally going head to head with Garret.”

“What’s the matter?” Clarissa asked, the triumph over her discovery melting away.

I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “The perp might’ve found what she was looking for in the closet in the bedroom. Or maybe it was supposed to be there and wasn’t. I don’t know, but I gotta go. We got something. Something big. Garret better step aside—a new king is in town.”

“Wait a minute, Ms. Somerset. I have a few questions.” Sean took a step toward me.

“I was just helping out,” I said as I tapped into voicemail. “Clarissa knows what’s up. She can hold the fort.”

“I have to go, too.” Clarissa’s face turned white as she held her phone to her ear. “Dear God. There is an aswang in the city.”

Chapter Three

“What’s an aswang?” I asked as I led Clarissa out of the house. Adrenaline spiked in my blood.

“It’s a type of…demon, I guess you could call it, from Filipino lore. Not a true demon, like from the underworld, but…evil. Filipinos think of it as evil. I only know about the creatures from books. I’ve never actually seen one. They are immensely powerful, and eat babies and the organs of adults.”

“Holy crap, they eat babies? That’s messed up.” I grimaced. “Well then, that is definitely a green light to kill it. Right? I can kill it?”

“You’ve just seen the horror of violence in action, and you’re eager to go kill something?”

“Is that a trick question? Because I feel like you should know the answer to that based on my personality…”

“Fine. Whatever. Okay, so you’ll be going into the heat of battle. That’s your job. You signed on to be the front line—”

“I’m not complaining,” I said, patting my gun. “I’m in it to win it.”

“You’re worrying me.”

“Wise. What should I expect?” Not that it really mattered. I’d run right at the beastie with a snarl turned smile regardless of how vile it was. That was what I did. It was what I excelled at.

Hell, it was why MLE had hired me. We both climbed into the car.

“If we are being called, it has tried to feed. They like intestines the best, I’ve read, and will move from person to person if they have the option, getting their fill. They like preying on the weak.”

She leveled me with a serious look from behind the wheel. “They are hard to kill, Reagan. You have to stab it in the back with a sword.”

“How is that hard to kill? Sounds pretty easy to me.”

“Not as easy as you’d think. They can shape-shift. Some might look like large wolves. Others might turn into a flock of birds. They travel extremely quickly, almost as fast as a vampire, I’ve read. And they spook easily, taking flight or running when they think they’re outnumbered or can’t get an easy feed.”

“Got it. I need to be quick like a bunny, so I can stick a sword in the creature’s back before it flies away.”

She blew out a frustrated breath and checked her phone. A glance at the address told me we were headed into the heart of the French Quarter. Talk about easy prey. Get a drunk person, of which there were a great many, on their own, and the creature could have its fill.

“If it bites or scratches you while in its humanoid form,” Clarissa continued, stepping on the gas, “you’ll die if I don’t get to you fast enough. They kill really easily.”

I doubted it. I was absolved from most evil, especially the demon variety. Daddy Dearest had given me a lot of his powerful gifts. Not like I could tell her that. I’d just have to hide any wounds I took until they healed over.

“Okay, then. Don’t get killed, move quickly, and kill the thing.” I nodded decisively and entwined my fingers in my lap. The adrenaline pulsed in my blood now, something that would make me as fast as a vampire, increase my strength, and keep me moving. I was made for action, not a cubicle.

“You really are crazy,” she muttered. “Or ignorant of the extreme danger you’re about to face.”

“Neither. I’m just good at my job.” And a different breed—literally—than the others in the MLE office.

In the French Quarter, she tried to navigate around the milling crowds, jeering and laughing as they swigged drinks and slung beads.

“It’ll take us forever to get through here,” she said, pounding on the wheel.

I fired a quick text message to Smokey. Working. What’s up?

Almost immediately I got a message back. Supernatural creature was in cemetery. Eating stomach. Changes into flock of birds. It’s gone now, but might come back. Tourist just found it. Cops called.

“Oh man,” I said. “That thing made a stop across the street from my house. That ain’t right.”

“It did?” Clarissa asked with wide eyes, her gaze dipping to my phone.

“Yeah. This just got personal.”

I reached for the door handle.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“It’ll be faster on foot. The captain gave me coordinates.”

“But wait, I didn’t tell you about—”

I jumped from the car, shut the door behind me, and hit the hood twice, telling her I was clear. I would figure out whatever it was she hadn’t told me. Before now, I’d always had very little information when I went in hot. The outcome was usually the same—tag and bag my mark.

I jogged along the sidewalk, weaving in and out of people and keeping my eyes open. Some supernatural creatures could hide in plain sight. Since I hadn’t confronted this particular creature before, there was no telling what it might surprise me with.

I crossed Bourbon Street. There were way too many people there. Instead, I worked toward the slower areas near the sighting. I wasn’t actually far from Darius’s home in the Brink. Ghost and vampire tours would be meandering around, not to mention people staggering home or heading to their lodgings. For a supernatural, it was a good place for a little dinner.

I turned down a quieter street, dodged a horse and carriage carrying a man explaining French Quarter architecture to two tourists, and slowed. Laughter, a shout, and someone talking too loudly drifted toward me. Shoes scuffed against cement. Someone belched. Welcome to New Orleans, where the party never ended. My kinda town.

I gripped the hilt of my sword and pulled it free, ignoring the surprised expression from a passerby. There was no need of a gun or even magic. If the creature needed a sword to the back, by golly, who was I to say boo?

I walked a ways, not hearing anything foreign. No screams. No flocking birds. I typed a message to the captain, asking for new coordinates.

It’s MIA. We’re hunting, came his reply. So he was on scene as well. That was rare. This thing had to be a doozie.

I did love a challenge.

Bring it in and we’ll get you partnered off, he sent. Their whereabouts came next.

“Um…nope,” I muttered to myself. Working with one of the other agents would only slow me down.

“Dude, have you seen the display?” a passing guy asked me, holding a pink plastic container half filled with a cocktail.

I slowed and gave him my attention. His friend laughed and pointed the way they’d come. “It was gnarly. Seriously. Some guy in a costume went after some other guy. They staged the whole thing so people could see.”

“It was awesome!” The first guy, younger twenties and with a shining upper lip from his drink, grinned. “Blood and guts all over the place. You should check it out. They’re probably still going.”

I saw a cluster of people gathered in front of a doorway down the road, all with wide eyes and open mouths.

Bingo.

“I will, thanks,” I said.

“Wait, was that a sword?” I heard one of the guys ask as I broke into a jog.