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“Where have you been?” Williams queried as he knelt to eye Enzo’s poor destroyed body.
“I needed a change of scenery.” Not exactly a lie.
“It would have been nice to know, seeing as how you’re a key witness to a few investigations.”
“I’m not guilty.” Maybe if I kept saying it, he’d believe it.
“I know you’re not. However, there are those in the precinct that have some questions about your seeming involvement.”
“Wait, you don’t think I’m to blame?” Color me surprised.
“Of course not. The demons are the true culprits. However, it is bad luck you keep being in the same place as them when shit happens.”
It took me a second to filter what he’d said. “You know about the demons?”
“Yes.” He rose, picking up a handful of discarded kitchen towels. When he took a step towards me, I moved back, unsure of what he intended. He sighed and held out the towels. “For your wounds.”
He gestured toward my clawed-up arm, where I’d been using my other hand to staunch the bleeding from the damage Possessed Enzo had done. Begrudgingly, I took the towels from Williams and used them to clean myself up as much as I could, then wrapped the final one around my arm as a makeshift dressing.
“Thanks,” I offered meekly once I’d finished.
“You fucking idiot.” Williams’s gaze didn’t go to me but past. “Why would you bring her here? You knew this was a trap.”
Hold on a second. He was speaking to Cain. How could he see him?
I whirled to see the big man out of the hole in the floor and shrugging. “It was daytime. Didn’t figure we had much to worry about.”
“You almost got her killed,” Williams muttered.
“Only because you were late,” Cain countered.
In that moment, I realized a few things. The first being Williams knew about reapers and demons. “You fucking asshole. You mean to say you knew what killed those people this entire time? You made me feel like a fucking suspect, and meanwhile, you knew? Knew the truth?”
An unapologetic Williams shrugged. “I couldn’t avoid bringing you in. It would have raised too many questions not interviewing someone at the scenes of the crimes. Then, add in the fact people were watching and the interview was recorded, I had no choice but to pretend.”
“You had a choice to pull me aside and let me know it was a sham!”
“Just doing my job.”
“Of being an asshole perfectly,” I growled.
Cain snorted. “He’s our inside man on the force. Him and Wendell, although I get the impression the latter got into trouble.”
“Wendell’s dead,” Williams stated flatly. “His body was found in much the same state as this one.” He nudged Enzo’s limp leg.
“Fuck,” Cain huffed. “Been a long time since we had a corposse come through a doorway.”
“What’s a corposse?” I asked, pissed but damned if I would let them talk and not explain.
“A demon that can take over a human body. They’ll wear it until it’s no longer useful or the body dies from the trauma of hosting.”
“Poor Enzo, worn like a suit.” And yes, it made me think of Men in Black. “Why would a demon do that?”
“Demons, as mentioned, are not very smart. Nor do they like sunlight. Wearing a human allows them to move around during the day and even use some of their host’s higher functions, like speech and”—Williams glanced overhead—“writing.”
“Fine, so the demon chose to possess my boss. Why? Why write my name? Why do they want to find me?”
“Because, as someone with both sides of the magic, a messovenata, you scare them,” Cain replied.
