AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"I tested her pulse to see if she was still alive. Otherwise, I don't think anybody but the killer touched her." I held up the feather. "I found this on the ground next to her and picked it up before I thought about it."
The darksome hood turned toward me, and I thought I caught sight of a pair of steel eyes staring out at me, luminous and cold. "Harpy," was all she said, but that was enough to verify what we'd been thinking.
Over the years, I'd seen Corpse Talkers at work, and their dedication and icy passion for their work unnerved me, but I was inexorably fascinated by them. Delilah, on the other hand, watched from beside Chase. She looked nervous; he was totally freaked. Luckily for us, he was enough of a professional to know when to keep his mouth shut.
The shrouded figure bent over Rina's body and slowly pressed her face to Rina's bloody face. Lips to lips, the Corpse Talker kissed Rina deeply, sucking the remnants of the fallen soul out of the body into her own. I knew the drill.
Lips to lips, mouth to mouth,
Comes the speaker of the shrouds.
Suck in the spirit, speak the words,
Let secrets of the dead be heard.
The rhyme echoed in my head; a ditty sung by children hoping to keep the bogeys at bay. But bogeys were child's play compared to these creatures—whatever they were—and bogeys didn't demand flesh as payment for their services. Rina's remains would lie with her ancestors, except for her heart.
We waited in silence, the air growing thick as the Corpse Talker hovered over the body. I glanced up at Chase. He looked faint, and Delilah—who had apparently noticed his expression—silently reached for his hand. Startled, he gave her a quick look and accepted, her touch giving him the strength to straighten his shoulders, though I still heard him gulp down what was likely his breakfast. The scent of his fear mingled with the scent of blood, and I was grateful Menolly wasn't here; she was still so young at the vamp business, and young vamps grew ravenous at the smell of a pricked finger.
After a moment, the Corpse Talker stood, silent as before. I stepped forward. Time to find out if we'd hit the target.
"Rina, can you hear me?"
In a voice that was Rina's and yet not Rina's, the Corpse Talker breathed a soft, "Yes."
We only had a few minutes before the residue from Rina's soul departed, just enough for a couple of quick questions, and then we were out of luck. In some cases, Corpse Talkers weren't able to grab hold of the soul's cord for even that long.
"Who killed you?"
A pause, then again the whisper. "Harpy."
"Do you know why?" I watched the shrouded figure as she swayed, struggling to keep hold of Rina's soul.
"No."
Nice. Short, but sweet. The dead weren't always talkative, which was understandable. We had to make every question count. I thought hard. We had one, perhaps two more chances. What else could I ask that might be of value? And then, I knew. More questions about Rina's death would be a waste of time, but maybe, just maybe I could gain some insight on what we'd come to learn.
"How can I find Tom Lane?"
The Corpse Talker shuddered, as if not expecting the question, but she managed to regain control. After a moment, she said, "He's mad as a hatter, mad as a hare. Go to the woodland, but be you aware. Look for the ancients who shelter from storm, but first you must pass through the lair of the wyrm."
And then Rina's body jerked.
"Oh shit!" Chase blurted out. "What the fuck?">"I don't know, but I don't like it."
I reached out, trying to figure out what was going down. Inhaling deeply, I let the breath settle into my lungs, but the sound of breaking glass startled me. A muffled scream rang back from the front of the store.
"That's Rina!" I jumped up and looked around wildly for something to open the door with. "We've got to get out of here!"
Delilah motioned for me to stand back. She stared at the door for a moment, contemplating the trajectory, then took aim and let fly with her foot. The heel of her platform boot caught the knob at just the right angle, busting it loose from the wood as the doorframe splintered. She'd learned from the best back in OW, training for a number of years under a martial arts master. Delilah was the equivalent of a black belt kung fu practitioner.
We rushed down the hall into the main room of the store. Rina was sprawled over the counter, all too dead. Blood spatters led from the counter to the middle of the room, and stopped. I sniffed. The metallic smell of blood filled the air. That, and ozone. Somebody had dropped a butt load of magic here in the past few minutes. I glanced down at my feet where a single brown and yellow feather lay. As I bent down to pick it up, Delilah hissed and backed up.
"Demon. That's from a demon," she said. "I can feel it from here."
"It's that freakin' harpy." I turned the feather over in my hand. It felt greasy and dirty and all kinds of nasty. "When we find this bitch, we're going to spit her and roast her over Shadow Wing's fire pit."
"Do you think she was after the same information we were?"
