“No.” I leave my bike in the road and walk closer to inspect the body. It’s not a local. Tourist, probably. It’s not good for us. It’ll have people asking questions and poking their noses in Raven’s Crest and the club’s business.
“Give me a minute. Lottie is sleeping.”
As I get closer to the body, I see that he’s been slashed repeatedly with a knife. His intestines are falling out as a result of the injuries, and the scavengers have already begun to feast on him. I can tell he’s been out here for hours.
“Shit, Pres. He’s been tortured.”
“Tell me it’s not a local.”
“We don’t know him. A loner or a tourist.”
“Stay there and wait for me. I’m calling Boomer and heading your way.”
“I’ll be here, Pres.”
When the call ends, I take out my AirPods and store them. That’s when I hear how quiet it is—just the wind. No birds.
It’s odd until I realize I’m not alone. There’s no sense of danger, so it’s not the killer or killers here. I feel the buzz from a mystical presence.
“Hayride,” a familiar female voice greets me.
I lower my head with respect briefly and then lift my chin. “Granny Jo.”
“The council will want to meet with Scythe.” Her gaze isn’t on me, but the man dangling from the end of a rope.
“I’ll let him know.”
“Tell him noon at the Emporium.”
I nod. “As you wish.”
“Get him cut down before he begins to stink.”
“Already on it.”
She walks away and disappears into the forest.
It’s not long before Scythe arrives. Boomer is with him.
“Pres. Boomer.”
Scythe shakes his head. “Motherfucker.”
Boomer sighs. “This is gonna be a lot of paperwork.”
“Granny Jo says the witches want to meet at the Mystic at noon. I’m guessing you’ll have to face the whole council after this.”
“She showed up already?”
“Yep,” I confirm.
“Goddammit.” Scythe shakes his head. “I need more coffee.”
Boomer is staring at the dead man. “This looks familiar. The same slash marks. Entrails exposed. Swinging from a large limb.”
“And?” Scythe asks.
“It’s the same as the Hillside Stalker.”
