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“Get me out of here!” a prisoner screamed as Sylvester passed. “For God’s sake let me out! You’re murderers to leave us in here!”
“They must have seen something,” the guard said, indicating the prisoners.
“I’m sure they did,” Sylvester said. He walked steadily, despite the stench of fear that hung in the air.
The solitary cells had small, thick windows looking out to the corridor.
“This is it,” the guard said. Sylvester stepped close to the steel door, drawing a deep and wary breath. His shoe stuck to the floor, leaving an imprint. Blood had seeped under the door.
The guard peered in the window quickly.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
The detective nodded.
The door opened with a squeak and a clang. The guards stood with their rifles at the ready. Sylvester stepped into the cell, followed by two of the guards.
His face remained calm, inscrutable, as he took in the sight.
Ethan’s body, or what was left of it, lay in the corner. The only recognizable feature was his face. Where his eyes had once been were two black, decomposed pits, larger than his eye sockets. The veins running away from his eyes had all turned black and gray. It was like looking into an abyss. The rest of his body looked like it had been turned inside out. As if he had been torn apart from inside. Gore covered the walls of the cell. Deep scratch marks had penetrated the concrete.
The demon had taken his payment.
“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” one of the guards said, collecting himself. He ran his sleeve across his mouth.
“I hoped I would never have to,” Sylvester said. He looked at Ethan’s gruesome remains for a few moments longer. “Thank you, Officers, that is all.” Turning on his heels, Sylvester exited the cell.
The guard took one last look before leaving Ethan’s cell. The door closed, reverberating throughout the jail.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Kevin’s Diner was unusually busy that afternoon. The booths were overflowing, the dining room filled with the chatter and laughter of customers. In the corner the dusty TV crackled, tuned, as usual, to ANN. A snowy-bearded anchor announced the day’s top story.
“Breaking news: the identity of the teen responsible for three Angel murders has been released. Ethan McKinley of Angel City was being held without bail in a Los Angeles jail but died in a mysterious incident authorities are currently investigating. In a related story, rumors are swirling that Jackson Godspeed was injured in last week’s incident following his Commissioning. Mark Godspeed as well as Jacks’s publicist will neither confirm nor deny. And in Washington, Senator Linden has pushed forward for a special congressional committee to handle Angel affairs in America.”
Maddy barely glanced at the TV as she moved between the tables, dropping off steaming plates of food and cups of coffee. She could still feel a pinch where the knife had penetrated her, but all things considered, she had healed surprisingly well. She seemed to have no ill effects from the incident downtown. Well, no physical ill effects, at least. She picked up a table of dirty dishes and headed back into the kitchen.
Kevin stood behind the fryer, as usual, pulling cook duties and plating orders.
“Hey, Kevin, can I take a break?” Maddy asked.
“Okay,” Kevin said as he whipped up another hamburger special. “But it’ll have to be quick. It’s getting pretty busy out there.”
Maddy went into the back room and sat heavily into the old chair. Her feet were aching. She felt like she hadn’t even had a chance to breathe since that first group of tourists arrived on the Angel Tours bus at the start of her shift. She reached into her book bag on the desk and pulled out her BlackBerry Miracle. She unlocked the screen and checked it. No new messages. Still. She tried her best to ignore her disappointment.
“Hey, you’ve got a new customer,” Kevin called from the kitchen. Maddy sighed. She powered off the Berry and threw it back in her bag. It was going to be a long night.
She walked back through the kitchen and out into the bustling dining room.
And stopped.
There Jacks stood, bathed in the golden afternoon sunlight shafting through the windows. Even in a simple T-shirt and jeans, he was gorgeous. He saw Maddy and gave her a delighted, unassuming smile.
“Looks like he could use a table,” Kevin said. Maddy looked at her uncle. His gray eyes crinkled around the edges. Then he squeezed her on the shoulder and disappeared into the kitchen.
Maddy tucked a stray hair behind her ear and smoothed her uniform. Then she approached him.
“Can I help you?” she said.
