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“What can I do for you, mademoiselle?” MacIlwraith flashed her an open, easy smile but Nelson could feel the other man’s focus as it honed in on him. It was like a warm tickle, causing Nelson to rub his ear against his shoulder as he stifled a shiver.
There was a nervous, muffled titter from the young woman. “I read your book and I was fascinated by your observations on the way social media’s changed how we form relationships and the evolution of the modern mega cult.” It was a rushed gush of blushing adoration but MacIlwraith merely nodded and seemed almost distracted as he hefted an overloaded messenger bag off the desk.
“Thanks. Social media is particularly fascinating because we’re seeing the return of symbology— or memes and emojis as modern hieroglyphs—as a form of communication. And there’s a lot of material to study with cults weighing so heavily on our political discourse,” he said with a wince before pulling the strap over his head.
“There has been, but I was particularly struck by your theory about what draws people to certain cult leaders.” She pushed a copy of his book and a pen at him. He took them and his brow arched expectantly as he waited for a name. She deflated for a moment, her hopes momentarily dashed.
“Janessa Wilder,” she said softly.
“Ah. You already submitted your topic. The Tuath Dé, correct?”
“Yes! Do you think there are still any practicing sects?” She asked excitedly, causing MacIlwraith to laugh.
“Of druids?” He confirmed and laughed again when she nodded. “The Tuath Dé were a mythological super race and nothing more than folklore. Any cults organized around those deities were wiped out when Christianity swept into Gaelic Ireland.”
“Do you really think so? I was hoping you were a believer. You said in an interview that you could trace your ancestry back to Ireland, almost to the druids.” She sounded a little too assured and Nelson could sense that MacIlwraith didn’t like the hint of awe he heard either. He laughed it off as he handed back her book.
“Sure. If you believe my grandmother and want to make a boring interview a little more exciting with a family anecdote. I can also trace some of my ancestry back to Eastern Europe by way of Staten Island, but I don’t believe in the Baba Yaga either.” He was gentle and not at all condescending but there was enough scolding in his tone for her lip to push out. She canted toward him.
“I was secretly hoping it was still a thing and you were the new Dagda. I offer myself as tribute!” she whispered loudly, earning a loud cackle from MacIlwraith.
“I am…” He cringed and there was a soft grunt as he shook his head. “Flattered. But absolutely not,” he said unequivocally with another shake of his head. “I have no interest in my students or their lives outside of my classroom, for one. And that sad, cranky agent is much more my type,” MacIlwraith confided but he didn’t lower his voice and tossed his wild black waves in Nelson’s direction. Nelson flinched and frowned as he drew back but MacIlwraith winked at him before sliding her a cocky grin. “We have an appointment so you’ll have to excuse me.” He offered her a half-bow, then hugged his bag against his side as he jogged over to meet Nelson. “I was hoping they’d send you. It’s nice to finally meet in person, Agent Nelson.” He extended his hand and his lips curved in a wide, delighted smile as he swiftly scanned Nelson from head to toe. His eyes weren’t actually dark. They were a soft, soft blue, but heavily lined with smudgy black liner, and his nails were painted black as well. Tattoos peeked from under MacIlwraith’s sleeves and around his collar, making Nelson slightly disoriented as he accepted his hand. But a wave of warm easiness swept over Nelson as MacIlwraith’s eyes held his.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Nelson parroted weakly. It wasn’t nice and Nelson wished he could follow Ms. Wilder as she side-stepped around him and slipped out. MacIlwraith was too many things when they were this close. His face was too angular and his lips and expressions too mobile to be handsome, but he was beautiful. Nelson tried not to stare, but he thought he caught quick glints of gold in the professor’s soft blue eyes as he chatted and smirked at Nelson. He recalled that MacIlwraith was only twenty-five. But he seemed both too young to be a professor and too old to be fooled and flattered at the same time. And he saw too much as he sized Nelson up.
Nelson thought he’d sized the professor up by scanning his file and doing a quick internet search in the parking lot. But MacIlwraith was shrewd and a little too cunning for a nepotism baby who had toddled upwards into a comfy teaching job at his famous parents’ alma mater.
In MacIlwraith’s case, nepotism had worked in his favor. He appeared to be living up to expectations and managing well, but Nelson wasn’t going to hold that against him.
Tony, the TA, leaned into the room. “I’m heading out, Nox. Everything’s turned off and locked in the office.”
“Thanks, Tony. I’ll see you on Tuesday,” MacIlwraith replied with a warm smile and a wave before turning back to Nelson. “You drive and I’ll fill you in on the way,” he said as he gestured for Nelson to go ahead.
“On the way?”
“We’re going to New Castle, Agent.” He gave Nelson a gentle shove to get him moving.
“New Castle? Where the hell is that and why—?”
Nelson didn’t like the way MacIlwraith’s lips pulled into a pained grimace and his eyes hardened. “Because they found a girl tied to a tree in the Appalachian Mountains early this morning and I think we need to take a look.”
“Jesus!” Nelson’s stomach tightened into a cold knot. Not just because someone had murdered a young girl, but Felton was going to shit a brick. “Hold on. I’m here about two missing girls in Maryland. Why are you so sure that this girl in…” He had no idea which part of the Appalachians New Castle was so he made a wild guess. “Virginia is connected to Cleary and the other missing girl?”
“Just a moment,” MacIlwraith said as he opened his messenger bag and pulled out a folder. He looked around quickly before flipping it open and stepping closer so Nelson could take a look. “Does she remind you of anyone, Agent?”
Long, flame-red hair spilled from the trunk of an oak tree. Nelson was confused by that bright flash in the middle of what appeared to be muddy, soggy woods until he noticed her naked, bruised, and battered body. Her arms and torso were lashed to the tree with rope and she was surrounded by antlers. They radiated from the tree around her and a ram’s skull with large, curved horns capped the strange altar. Nelson became dizzy as he noted the three swirls burned into the flesh on the victim’s chest as if she’d been branded before she had been mounted to the altar. Her abdomen had been cut open, but Nelson couldn’t make out more than a dark shape there due to the camera’s angle. He closed the folder, not wanting to see more.
“No.” Nelson shook his head. He was appalled and furious at the cruelty, but he didn’t want this to be connected to the girls he’d been tasked with finding. They were supposed to be off with their yoga instructors or hunting for mushrooms. Nelson’s heart raced as he imagined Mila Cleary or Rachel Martin in the hands of this monster. And then there was Felton. “Aside from the red hair, doesn’t remind me of anyone,” he said, still refusing to make the connection.
“I’ve got more bad news for you.” MacIlwraith hissed as he stuffed the folder back into his bag. He put an arm around Nelson, shocking him before he felt an instant rush of calming warmth. It might have been his imagination, but Nelson’s heartbeat settled and he wouldn’t be surprised if his blood pressure had lowered. The soothing sensation didn’t last for long and Nelson braced himself when Macilwraith sighed heavily. “I’ve got four more missing girls that might be part of this.”
“Seven girls?” Nelson was sick again. “I’m not a big fan of touching,” he managed. MacIlwraith answered with a knowing hum and gave Nelson a reassuring squeeze before releasing him.
“I can see that now. And I can tell that you’ve had a hell of a day already and it’s four hours to New Castle. Let’s get on the road and I’ll fill you in on the way.”
Nelson didn’t feel all that reassured as he followed MacIlwraith. He was expecting a fight if the Cleary and Martin cases were connected but seven girls? And multiple states and jurisdictions meant the FBI would have to run it.
“Damn it. Felton’s going to be so pissed at me.”
