Sin's Dark Caress

Sin's Dark Caress

A Dark Brethren Novel

Tracey O'Hara

Dedication

For my boys

David, Corey and Seamus

Contents

1

Rising Sin

B
ianca Sin strode past the flashing emergency-vehicle lights to the crime tape strung across the alley entrance and nodded to the uniformed police officer whose name she couldn't remember.

“Hey Dr. Sin,” the young officer said, lifting the yellow crime tape. “He's waiting for you.”

She smiled her thanks as she ducked under the tape, making her way to where the man who'd summoned her stood talking to a couple of uniforms.

“Hey McManus, you look like shit,” she said.

He smiled and leaned one hand on the hood of the squad car as he dug into his coat pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. “Sweet talk will get you everywhere, Sin.”

She painted on her biggest how-you-doing smile and slowed her stride. His square jaw was covered with at least a few days' growth, and by the circles under his eyes and his rumpled suit, he hadn't been home in a while either.

The shabby appearance might look unprofessional, but she knew it was most likely because he'd been working for several days without a break. His ice blue eyes, though somewhat bloodshot, still pierced with a sharpness few others possessed, reminding her why he was one of the city's top homicide cops.

Bianca turned her smile on the other two. “Barnes, Jones, how you guys doing?”

Officer Barnes returned her nod. “Not too good after seeing this one, Dr. Sin.” He lightly tapped his partner on the stomach with the back of his hand and tilted his head to the crowd gathering at the perimeter. Jones nodded and the two officers moved off.

McManus pulled a cigarette from the pack with his lips and fished out his lighter. “This one's real messy,” he exhaled in a cloud of smoke.

“Whatcha got?”

“A homeless woman, split like a can of corn for the baby surprise inside.” He scrubbed a hand across his bloodshot eyes. “It's the second in as many weeks.”

“So why'd you call me in?”

“You're the expert on that magic crap, and there's a symbol I need you to check out. It could be witchcraft, but there's something different about it,” he said, his nose crinkling. They'd worked together for years, been friends for almost as long, and never once had McManus hid his dislike for thaumaturgy, or those who used it.

“Hey,” someone yelled from behind.

They both turned as a blond reporter pushed forward past the yellow tape, only to have the two uniforms step into her path.

“Excuse me, Dr. Sin—Trudii Crompton WTFN News—can I have a few words?” the reporter yelled as she tried to force her way past Barnes and Jones.

“I'll give you two.
No comment!
” Bianca called over her shoulder, and leaned toward McManus, dropping her voice. “Get rid of her, will you?”

He flicked his cigarette butt on the ground and stamped on it before sauntering toward the reporter and her cameraman. “Come on—you know the rules—take it back to the perimeter.”

“But Detective McManus—” the blonde protested.

“Move back, Miss Crompton, or I'll have you taken in for obstruction,” McManus said.

She straightened her shoulders, defiance flashing in her eyes as she lifted her chin. “You can't do that.”

“Maybe not, babe.” He slid his hands into his trouser pockets, opening his crumpled coat to reveal a crumpled suit. “But where would you rather be when the story breaks? Here or downtown in lockup?”

The reporter's lips thinned and a deep frown creased her perfect brow. Bianca smiled and turned away. She didn't know what Ms. Crompton took offense to more, being threatened or being called “babe.” McManus had a knack for deliberately pushing a person's buttons when they pissed him off, and the reporter was taking the bait.

As Bianca approached the cordoned area, her skin grew clammy, the hairs on her arms stood on end, and nausea washed over her. She rounded the corner and bright crime scene lamps lit the area in gory detail, turning the alley into a slaughterhouse. Blood pooled around a pale body lying amidst the congealing viscera, but that wasn't what made her stomach churn.

Burning bile rushed up her esophagus with a dark urgency. She ran, putting as much distance as possible between her and the crime scene so she wouldn't contaminate it. The contents of her stomach gushed out of her mouth and hit the filthy ground, just missing her shoes.

Footsteps came up from behind. “You all right?” McManus asked, genuine concern softening his expression.

She reached into her pocket for a tissue and her hands shook.

“I've never seen you pavement pizza at the sight of blood before. You're not going soft on me, are you?” He took the tissue from her hand and cupped her chin as he wiped her mouth, his brow creased in concentration. “We've seen a hell of a lot worse than this.”

“It's not the blood.” She pushed him away gently and bent over with her hands on her knees as her head spun again. “Something dark happened here, not just the murder.”

The remnants of black energy radiated from everything surrounding the body.

“That's why I called you in,” he said, rubbing gently between her shoulder blades. “How're you feeling now?”

Nausea and dizziness subsided. “Okay I think.” She took back the tissue to clean herself up and smiled her thanks.

The smile he returned remained a little uncertain. “You had me worried there for a minute.”

“You're not going ‘soft' on me, are you, McManus?”

“Never.” He winked. “Come on, I've got something to show you.”

Bianca followed him back to the body and dropped to a squat. Dark blond hair was tacky with drying blood that pooled around the dead girl's head, and her lower abdomen was just an empty cavity. Her old clothing was mismatched and grubby, like someone who'd been on the streets for some time, but her frozen features held an innocent youthfulness, almost untouched by the squalidness of a homeless life in dark back alleys.

“Goddess, she's around sixteen or seventeen at the most.” She looked up at McManus and swallowed the urge to puke again. “We got an ID?”

“Not yet,” McManus said. “We're still questioning the other bums in the area, but no one is admitting to knowing her, let alone seeing anything that happened.”

“What a surprise—” Bianca froze as she glanced past McManus to the wall behind.

“So whatcha think?” the detective asked when he saw where her gaze was directed. “Satanists?”

“I wish,” she whispered, uncurling from her crouched position and pulling a cell phone from her pocket.

“What's up?” the deep voice rumbled through the earpiece after the second ring.

“How soon can you get the team downtown?”

“About a half an hour,” Oberon replied. “Bad?”

“The worst,” she said, then gave him the address and slid the phone shut.

“Why'd you have to call him in?” McManus asked.

The whole time her eyes remained firmly fixed on the symbol, painted in blood. “Because we've seen this before.”

All too recently.

There was no mistaking the mark of the Dark Brethren.

2

Darkness This Way Comes

T
he heavy rumble of a Harley-Davidson engine grew closer, a single headlight clearing a path for the large black SWAT van that followed through the crowd of onlookers and media. The team had arrived.

“You called him in, you deal with him,” McManus said, and walked away slightly pissed.

Bianca sighed and made her way toward the newcomers as the buzz from the gathered press rose in renewed interest with their arrival. Oberon DuPrie pulled the motorcycle up beside a squad car and kicked out the stand before cutting the engine. Antoinette Petrescu climbed from behind him and smiled widely.

“God, Oberon, I really gotta get me one of these,” she said, running her fingers through her newly shorn Nordic-blond hair.

Oberon swung his long leather-clad leg off the bike and stood to his full seven-foot height, towering over the Aeternus female. “I don't know what Christian would say about that.”

“He can say what he likes, won't make any difference,” Antoinette said with a grin.

Oberon turned to Bianca. “So is it what I think it is?”

Bianca nodded and dropped her voice low enough so it didn't carry beyond them. “Looks like we might have another Dark Brethren death.”

Antoinette's expression sobered as she looked over her shoulder at Kitt Jordan climbing from the passenger side of the black van. “Same M.O. as the campus killer?”

“No, but just as bloody.” Bianca glanced over at Kitt. “Does she know?”

Oberon nodded, his own eyes filling with concern for his surrogate sister. “I gave her the chance to stay behind.”

“Do you think she'll be able to handle it?” Antoinette asked, looking at the forensic pathologist. “The campus killer was so close for her.”

Kitt swept her silver white and gray-black-streaked hair out of her eyes with one hand and raised the other in greeting, her smile a little strained.

“It's been several months since Nathan's death.” Oberon pulled the Bluetooth headset from his ear and glanced over his shoulder. “And she's a lot stronger than she looks. Besides, Cody's here if things get too bad.”

“Let's hope it doesn't come to that,” Bianca said, her eyes flicking to the blond surfer boy climbing out of the van's driver seat. “Because I have a feeling this one's going to get real messy.”

“I think I'll go check out the surrounding area,” Antoinette said as she walked off.

“Hey,” Bianca called after her. “I thought you were flying out to meet Christian?”

“Tomorrow night.” The Aeternus's smile beamed as she skipped a backward step and held up two thumbs. “Two glorious weeks of sand, sea, and sex in Miami.”

“Okay.” Oberon put his hand on Bianca's shoulder. “Show me the body.”

“This way,” she said, and led him through the crowd, past the crime tape and into the seemingly normal alleyway, until they turned the corner.

The dark magic pressed in on her again, bringing on the same nauseous feeling. But this time the dark energy seemed to move back, as if pushed away by some invisible force field. Her cobalt blue pendant grew quite warm against her skin.

Weird
. She wrapped her fingers around the stone encased in a gold fitting and looked at it closely. It seemed to hum with energy.

“Bianca?” Oberon said with some force.

“What?”

“I asked when the body was discovered,” he said, a frown creasing his brow. “Are you all right?”

“Um . . . yes.” Her voice shook a little. She cleared her throat to shake off the odd feeling and gather her thoughts. “When . . . ?”

Oberon dropped to look at the dead girl.

“Just over two hours ago now,” McManus said, coming up behind them, still not looking pleased. “The owner of a nearby diner found her when he was closing up.”

An azure luminescent tear beaded in the corner of McManus's left eye. Luckily, Oberon was still focused on the body and not on the detective.

She leaned closer to McManus. “You have something in your
eye
!”

McManus turned his back to them and took a handkerchief from his pocket.

“Any sign of the infant?” a voice asked.

Oberon stood and turned around. “Chancellor Rudolf, you didn't need to come all the way down here. I'd have sent you a report first thing in the morning.”

An elderly man stood with his hands behind his back, looking up at the symbol on the wall. “I wanted to see for myself.” He turned to Bianca, his gaze drawn to the charm around her neck. Then he lifted his eyes to hers and smiled. “It's good to see you again, Dr. Sin.”

“You too, sir,” she replied.

“And this is?” He smiled quizzically at the man by her side.

The detective stepped forward and held out his hand, everything appearing normal again. “Detective McManus, Homicide.”

“McManus, I'd like to introduce Chancellor Rudolf, who's just been promoted to the Five in CHaPR,” Oberon said.

“Promoted! Ha! That Akentia can be very persuasive.” A strange expression flashed across the old man's face as he took the detective's hand. He frowned, then covered it with a smile. “More like bullied into it.”

“Princess Akentia, the Aeternus?” Bianca asked.

“Um, yes.” The old man recovered his composure quickly, but not before another rather nervous glance at her pendant. “The same.”

She touched the necklace protectively. Why was he so interested in her family heirloom?

“Rudolf is the closest thing there is to an expert on the Dark Brethren,” Oberon explained. “He helped us out on the campus killer case several months ago.”

“Good to meet you, sir,” McManus said.

“So, young man,” Rudolf said. “What do you think happened here?”

McManus straightened and looked around. “One theory is it's a black market baby-stealing racket.”

“But you don't think so?” Oberon glanced between them.

McManus shook his head again. “I don't know why, but it just feels . . . off somehow.”

“And you'd be right.” Rudolf nodded to the bloody symbol painted on the wall. “This has the seal of the Dark Brethren.”

“And you say this is the second victim?” Oberon asked.

McManus nodded. “The other was found down by the tracks, several blocks from here, but we're pretty sure she was killed elsewhere and dumped. The scene was nowhere near as messy as this one.”

“Can you send both the reports to my office?” Oberon handed him a card.

McManus took it. “You can have them tomorrow. Okay?”

“I guess it will have to be.” Oberon turned to the chancellor. “I'd like to get your input too, Rudolf.”

The old man nodded. “I'll do what I can.”

“Excellent, let me walk you to your car.”

“Thank you, Oberon.” The old man's eyes fell to her pendant again, then he smiled before turning away.

“Creepy old man,” McManus said as soon as Oberon and the chancellor were out of earshot.

Bianca turned and punched him in the arm. “What the fuck, McManus? You're doing
Neon Tears
now?”