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“What’s wrong?” she asks her husband. “Why did they call you in today?”
“We have six new missing persons cases. All women between the ages of twenty-five and thirty.”
His mouth firms into a hard line as he opens his computer, taps some keys, and then turns the screen so we can all see.
The air seems to leave the room.
Millie gasps.
Brielle hangs her head in her hands.
Looking out at us from the screen are six women. Two redheads, three blondes, and one brunette.
“She looks familiar,” Millie says and points to one of the redheads.
“Of course, she does,” Cash replies. “She looks like Daphne. They all look familiar.”
“He’s back to this now?” Daphne demands and stands to pace the room. “He’s back to kidnapping and torturing girls?”
“We don’t know that he’s torturing them,” I say, but the woman I love whirls on me with fire in her eyes.
“That’s what he does,” she says. “He hurts and kills people, Jack.”
“I know. I was trying to stay positive.”
“My goddess,” Millie says softly. “He just keeps changing the game.”
“We knew things were changing when we found that corpse in front of Daphne’s doorway,” I remind everyone. “And the one thing this asshole is consistent about is being inconsistent. He is playing with us.”
Brielle stands and joins Daphne at the window. Both sisters have their arms folded across their chests and are staring out at the street.
“Oh, God.” Brielle’s voice is suddenly shaking and full of fear.
“What is it?” Cash asks and hurries to her.
“You don’t see them, do you?” Brielle points outside. We all join her, but I don’t see anything but a sidewalk. “The girls.”
“Oh, B,” Millie says and brushes her hand down her sister’s hair. “How many?”
“Two.” Brielle turns back to the open computer on the table. “I can’t be one hundred percent certain because they’re missing their eyes, but I think it’s these two.”
She gestures to one blonde and the brunette.
“I recognize the scar on the chin of this one, and the hair on the blonde.”
Cash wraps her up in a big hug, his face full of anger and fear. “Is that it? Just the eyes are gone?”
She shakes her head and takes a long, deep breath. “No. One was hanged. The noose is still around her neck. And the other… Well, let’s just say he really has a thing for disemboweling.”
“Jesus,” I mutter and wipe my hand over my face. “Is this what happened before?”
“Yes.” Brielle’s eyes meet mine. “But something is different now. There’s something new.”
“What? What’s different?” Daphne demands.
“He carved Bad Girl into their flesh. He’s punishing us.”
“Hell.” Millie sits and scrubs her hands over her face. “He took three days off to shift gears. To somehow kill these girls.”
“Wait,” Daphne says with her hand up. “I didn’t receive a photo of these kills. I received Polaroids for all the others—well, besides the poor man on my doorstep. Cash, did you ever find out who he is?”
“Yeah.” The other man sighs and pulls his hand down his face. “His name is Matthew Guthrie. Was. He lived in the bayou. Recluse, loner. In his sixties.”
“He used to be a part of the dark coven,” Lucien says quietly. “I never met him. Only heard the name. He left the coven years ago from what I heard.”
“How are we supposed to catch him when he’s so all over the place?” Daphne asks.
“We’re not supposed to catch him,” I remind her. “We’re going to defeat him. On the night of the eclipse.”
“He’s right,” Lucien agrees. “We can’t catch him. But we can end him. I have a few things left to delve into, but I think I’m close to figuring this out.”
“Why so much research?” I ask.
“Because we’ve never gotten this far before,” he replies. “We’ve never been this close to defeating him. Which could also explain his erratic behavior. He doesn’t know how to handle it either.”
“Wait.” Daphne holds up a hand and shakes her head. “Does Horace know that we’ve done this throughout many lifetimes?”
Lucien frowns, but before he can speak, she continues.
“I know that he tried to hurt us in ways that we’ve all overcome before, but I’m not convinced that he’s aware this has been going on for as long as it has. Maybe he’s just reborn every time, full of so much evil and hate, and it’s a constant loop.”
“Either way, it’s fucked-up,” Cash points out, and I can’t help but smile.
“Oh, I’m not suggesting that anyone feel sorry for him,” Daphne agrees. “I just don’t know if he realizes the significance of it all. Is he that smart?”
“Since we don’t know, can’t know what he understands,” Millie says slowly, thinking it over, “we’ll proceed as if he does know. Because at the end of the day, whether or not he knows changes nothing.”
“You’re right,” Daphne says, her shoulders slumping. “You’re totally right.”
