00 Mayan Thief (The FBI Paranormal Casefiles) Page 19

  “But I…”

  “Is this how it’s always going to be? Whenever you think I’m not adequate enough to hold my own in a battle, you’re going to put me behind some kind of cage and fight it out alone?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just that when there is magic involved, you’re clearly at a disadvantage.”

  “And when one person in a relationship is at a disadvantage then it’s not an equal relationship. And I think…” He glanced away for a second and then looked square into my eyes. “In fact, I am pretty sure that such a relationship wouldn’t work in the long term. So why bother? Why waste our time?”

  The man was insane. All hope frizzled out of my veins. He really believed this shit he spouted. Of course I didn’t think he wasn’t adequate or good enough. If he wasn’t with me, I never would have been able to move with such persistence. I might have succumbed to Jones and Augusta’s pressure and given up on this case.

  And then where would we have been?

  “If you think it’s a waste of time then I suppose we should…go our separate ways.”

  A strange expression crossed his eyes. Disappointment? Regret? Anger? I wasn’t sure. Did he want me to try harder to convince him that we would be good together? Or did he really want me to just give up? There was no way I was willing to beg and plead. He’d made up his mind anyway, and I could see that there wasn’t any scope for any change.

  Damn it.

  This hurt.

  What was I supposed to do now?

  My ego wouldn’t permit me to keep harassing him when he made himself perfectly clear. Taking a step back, I crossed my arms. I was tempted to jump into his arms and tell him how much I looked forward to spending some romantic evenings with him. I wanted him to know that he was the first man who ever made me feel that I was worth fighting for, dying for. He was the only one who made me think that there was life beyond my work and my passion for revenge for my family’s murders.

  And yet all those words slipped down my throat. He didn’t want to be with me anymore, and for whatever reasons he made that decision, I needed to accept it with grace.

  “Goodbye, Cleo.”

  There was once warmth in his voice, but now there was only regret. I nodded. “Bye.”

  Maybe one day we would work together on another case, or perhaps we might never meet again. I hoped it was the latter. I didn’t want to see him ever again. As he got in the car and drove away, I caught a glimpse of the same girl whom I had seen so many days ago. She still wore the torn, brown dress.

  Who was she?

  Another threat?

  Or a homeless person?

  She was gone before I could take a better look. For a moment I was tempted to chase her but then I just didn’t have the will. Maybe this was something I would deal with on another day.

  Turning, I walked towards the garden. Pain, wild and hard, coursed through my heart, making me feel vulnerable. I would miss Bryan.

  This wasn’t fair.

  Once again, I was alone. For a moment, I glanced around me, at the unbearable beauty that surrounded me. I’d everything, and yet I never felt so lonely. A bird chirped somewhere high on the tree. My gaze was drawn to the bright white and yellow flowers that bloomed in their beds.

  Life wasn’t over.

  Hell, I was a survivor, and this was only a minor hiccup in my life. Sooner or later, I would find a reason to kick someone’s ass and that would give me the impetus to carry forward. Whatever happened, I wasn’t done as yet – oh, not by a long shot. My gaze flickered towards Augusta who had her nose pressed to the window. Seeing me, she hastily moved away. No doubt she managed to use some spell and hear the entire conversation. My lips quirked in a smile; the woman was canny, and she was family.

  I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t ever alone, and to hell with a man. Life would go on, and so would my quest for revenge and for justice.

  The game was still on.

  ---The End---

  About the Author

  Sabine A. Reed is a fantasy author. The eldest among three children, she always had a book in her hand. To this date, she loves to read. Writing is one of her great loves because she can write the stories she would have liked to read. She can often be found at Goodreads and her website. She can also be found on twitter: SabineAReed. And on her facebook page: SabineAReed.

  Her other books include:

  The Spiritist

  The Demon Mages, Book 1 in The Power of Three trilogy

  The Warrior Mage, Book 2 in The Power of Three trilogy

  Serpentine Love, a fantasy, paranormal romance novella

  Black Orb

  Ashuliya

  01 Serial Killer

  Chapter One

  The corpse was a real mood killer.

  Birds chirped in the trees, the grass was green and a bit wet from rain last night, and the oak trees were tall and wide. It was a gorgeous, sunny day. A squirrel ran down the trunk, glanced at me, and trundled back up at top speed. It was one of those days when the air was fresh and chilly, the light was bright, and one could have a picnic right under the shade of a tree. Spring was right around the corner, and the promise of it filled my senses.

  But I had work to do.

  My gaze took in the sight of the young woman who sat cross-legged as if contemplating deep secrets of life. If it weren’t for the dark, wooden cross that held her upright, we would have assumed she was merely sleeping. She was dead. Her blonde hair swung forward to cover her face that tilted down. A sunny, plain yellow dress covered her from her neck down to her legs. Her hands were in her lap. For a moment, I simply stood and observed the scene.

  Death was always unpleasant, and the younger the person the more shocking it was. The man next to me held up a black, square devise that blinked and showed numbers. “There is a strong presence of magic,” he murmured. “We might be in danger of an attack. I read someone who can pack a good punch.”

  I didn’t bother to sigh. “You’re reading me.”

  Imbecile.

  Yes, he was in real danger from me. I wanted to kick him on the butt and tell him to go back to the academy, but then it would be a waste of time. The FBI academy didn’t teach people anything about the paranormal division. It was only when the special agents were recruited into the division did they learn whatever there was to learn about magic – and since that education was on the job, it took them years to fully understand all that encompassed a magical investigation.

  It was a good thing that FBI had us, an elite team of mages, trained to find other elite mages who were hell bent on creating mischiefs. My first job was to determine if this was the work of mage. If yes, my second and primary job was to catch him or her and hand over to the FBI. My team and I got paid a good amount of money to do, but more than that, it was about ensuring that humans and mages lived in peace in a world that we shared.

  “Sorry. I’ll just move closer to the corpse,” he said.

  “Don’t bother.” I waved a hand. “She is a mage, alright.”

  He frowned. Kind of cute he was, with his flaming red hair that was cut short, probably so that he could look older. Not that the trick did anything. The light gray eyes showed an innocence that told me he still believed in the goodness of people and the rightness of what he did. “How can you tell?”

  I snorted. Really, did he think I wouldn’t recognize one of ours? “It’s like a beacon. We can read it. Her magical energy is low, but it’s still humming around her. It will completely disappear in a day or two. But until then, it can tell us a lot.” I bent low so that I could study the victim. Taking my recorder, I switched it on to preserve my initial findings. “Young female. Caucasian. It seems she sat down herself. No signs of struggle on the surrounding grass or elsewhere in the clearing.”

  “Why would someone sit down so that she could be tied to a cross?”

  Grr.

  That was the whole purpose of the investigation, wasn’t it? We had to figure it out. I wasn’t employed to give him
lesson 101 in basic FBI paranormal procedure. Sometimes it was hard to believe that I was working with the FBI. Me? I was the original, rebel child, but then even rebels had causes, and mine led me to the FBI. I was using them to figure out who killed my family, and they were using me for my talent in magic.

  It was an even trade.

  More or less.

  “I’ve no theories regarding that,” I admitted in response to his question.

  Taking out the latex gloves, I pulled them on. Gently, I brushed aside her hair so that I could lift her face and examine her features. She looked peaceful, almost as if she was sleeping. The serene look on her face scared me more than the cross that depicted a sacrifice.

  Someone thwarted her will to live.

  Someone decided to end her life.

  That someone would have to pay.

  Lifting her hands, I examined them. No scratches. No broken nails. Nothing to indicate that she fought off the person who brought her here. After checking her legs and arms, I moved towards the back. The more clues I discovered now, the greater the chance that I would be able to find the murderer sooner. But so far, there was zilch, nada.

  Damn it.

  There were days when I hated my job, not because I didn’t like the work, but just because seeing evil up so close and personal made me wish I had chosen to be a teacher, or a banker, or even a gardener. But of course, I didn’t have the patience to battle with weeds each day. If I didn’t do this, Augusta, the leader of the commune where I lived, would put me to work taking out weeds from the garden, and I certainly didn’t want to do that.

  Anything to avoid gardening.

  I would find this killer, and when I did, it would be his or her last day of freedom.

  “Looks like he tied her to keep her from falling down.”

  “She was already dead when he tied her,” I answered as I brushed back the tendrils of her hair from her neck.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Elementary, my dear Watson.” I rubbed my finger over the twin marks on the side of her neck. Interesting. “If he tied her when she was alive, he would have put the rope around her middle. She would have been closer to the cross, but he brought the ropes under her armpit and tied her to the cross so that she wouldn’t fall. It was definitely done after death.”

  “Why would someone do that?”

  “To set a stage, to tell us something?”

  “Tell us what?”

  Why was I assigned all the new agents? It wasn’t fair. Perhaps it was time to complain to Jones that I required someone a bit more experienced. Some of these kids were really too green.

  “That’s what we have to figure out.”

  “But…”

  “Shush.” I traced my finger over the twin marks once more. The wound was small, tiny even. It was clean, and the edges of it were straight. “Something doesn’t feel right.” I stood. “We need to untie her.”

  “Jones is coming. He wants to examine it himself.”

  Grumbling under my breath, I stood. “In that case, why did you call me?”

  “He wanted you to confirm if this was done by magic. There is still some magical activity in this place,” Agent Greenhorn declared as he stepped away from the corpse. Ok, so that wasn’t his actual name. What was it? Gordon? Gray? Gary? Oh yes, Grover.

  What a name.

  “That’s still me.” I sighed. “This instrument needs a lot of work and some training for the men who use it would be nice. As far as I can tell, there is no other residual magic in this place. Whoever did this didn’t use magic.”

  Jones walked into the clearing. “What is the cause of death then?”

  He was a man who didn’t like to waste time, but rather than answer him, my attention strayed to the man who walked behind him. My nostrils flared at the sight of him. Special Agent Bryan was probably the same age as Agent Greenhorn, and maybe he was just as innocent. But he was also the man I was attracted to not too long ago.

  Attraction?

  Lust?

  No way.

  It was just a mild crush.

  Whatever it was, I was definitely over him. But it was still too early to start working together. At least I had hoped so.

  Jones cleared his throat. “Cleo? Any theories?”

  My mind was in an overdrive. What was Bryan doing here? Was he assigned to this case? If so, it wouldn’t work out so well. Our relationship frizzled out before it had a chance to get off the ground because he got pissed off with me after I bound him with magic while we were fighting evil minions. It was for his protection, but the idiot man refused to see it like that.

  “I found twin marks on her neck. It looks like a vampire bite,” I said.

  Jones frowned. His eyes clouded. “A rouge vampire is not a good sign.”

  Bryan moved closer to the corpse. It was almost as if I didn’t exist. Ignoring me with an ease that irritated me, he looked at the dead woman.

  “A rouge would have taken out more than one victim in this time,” I said in response to Jones’s comment. “She has been dead for at least a day. If it were a newborn on a rampage, you would have heard about it by now. The FBI would have been scrambling to cover his or her tracks so that the public could live with the illusion that they don’t exist.” The spicy scent of Bryan’s cologne hit my nostrils. “Hi, Agent Bryan. Nice to meet you again.”

  “Same here.” He looked distant as he gazed at me. “So this is the work of a vampire?”

  “Looks like it. But somehow…it feels wrong.”

  Jones crossed his arms. He didn’t like ambiguity. “What do you mean?”

  “A vampire would have sucked all the blood out. If he was determined or crazed enough to breach the treaty with humans, why would he have done it for a few pints of blood? She is not dry. So why did he stop? And why the elaborate setup? And how did he get her to sit meekly while he sucked her?”

  “Maybe he told her that he was going to convert her?” said Agent Bryan.

  Ok. So he wasn’t so naïve anymore. His last case with me was the first one ever for him. It was merely a month since we parted, but it appeared he used the time to hone up on knowledge about magic and magical creatures. “Possible. He might have told her that he could turn her into an undead. Some people love the idea of immortality. But then how did she die?”

  Jones blinked. “She was bitten. Didn’t you just say so?”

  “A normal vampire bite wouldn’t kill someone, not unless a significant portion of their blood was drained. Hers wasn’t.” I ran a hand over my jaw as I turned to study the corpse. “I’ve not been able to find anything, but I think she might have been drugged, before or after the bite.”

  “The autopsy would uncover any drugs in her system.”

  “We would have to wait for the results.” With luck, we might get answers within a week, but the killer would be free until then. Not good news. I didn’t like my cases to take so long, but there was not much to do. This required teamwork, and I would have to wait for their verdict. “In the meantime, we could look into her background and see if she was known to associate with vampires or other creatures.”

  Anything to get out of gardening duties back at the commune. Augusta, the self-styled Hitler who was in charge of administration, didn’t like anyone to sit idle. If I didn’t have a case, I was fair game for any and all mindless, boring chores that would suck the life out of me.

  No pun intended. I sent an apologetic glance at the victim. She deserved to live, and no one had the right to decide that her life was at an end. I would find justice for her.

  “Fine. You and Agent Bryan work on this. Keep me posted on all developments.”

  Wait. Back up there.

  “Sir, I…would prefer to work alone.”

  Jones pinned me with his stare. His eyebrows joined to form a frown. “No one works alone.”

  He wouldn’t budge. Damn. “How about I work with Agent Greenhorn…I mean, Agent Grover.”

  “Special Agent Grover is
new, and he needs to be given a crash course in all matters pertaining to magic. He is going back to the office where he would learn all that he needs to. Perhaps you can work with him on some future case. For now, you and Special Agent Bryan are paired together. As I recall, you gave excellent results in the last case, and I hope to see something similar.” Jones’s lips stretched in a smile. “Is there a problem with this?”

  I gulped. Well, we were stuck. A quick glance told me that Agent Bryan didn’t seem to care either way.

  Whatever.

  If he could deal with it, so could I.

  “No, sir. It’s fine.”

  “Great. I’ll see you soon.” He turned and then looked back at me. “Follow the rules, Cleo. This time I don’t want to make an exception to forgive you for transgressions you can easily avoid.”

  I nodded. Hell. It would take him months to forget that Special Agent Bryan and I blasted all rulebooks to hell the last time we worked together. He risked his job for me. And his life. But this time nothing like that would happen. Special Agent Bryan and I didn’t share the same camaraderie. We weren’t friends anymore, and there was no chance in hell that he would risk anything for me anymore.

  No chance at all.