Wingless (The Lia Hunter Chronicles #1)

“Ophelia Marie Hunter!” a very familiar voice shouted, “You get your skinny ass over here and start talking!”

Cringing, I glanced up from the computer at my desk where I’d just begun to access the files sent over by Levi, to see a pissed off Tess staring me down from across the room.

Heads barely even twitched at the shouting, our fellow PeaceKeepers’, already used to arguments within the station. Put a bunch of hot-tempered, highly trained people in one room and there’s bound to be a dispute or two. Tom sent me a sympathetic smile and a thumbs up. He’d been on the receiving end of Tess’s anger enough times to know what was about to go down.

Locking my computer, I stood and made my way over to Tess. Her arms were folded across her chest, a foot tapped a quick beat against the linoleum floor and by the way the corner of her eye twitched I knew I was in trouble.

My death march garnered a few commiserating looks from other PK’s as I passed by. Gabe, on the other hand, blew me a kiss. The bastard.

When I finally reached her, Tess wrapped a hand around my wrist and almost pulled my arm out of its socket as she dragged me into a nearby conference room. The fact that it was soundproof, a caution made to protect the confidentiality of our clients, did not put me at ease. I could be screaming my throat raw and the people outside wouldn’t know a thing.

Slamming the door shut behind us, Tess turned to face me. The sudden quiet of the room ratcheted the tension higher. Only the sound of her enraged breaths breaking the silence. Deciding to try for diplomacy, I spoke.

“Look, Tess, it’s not what it looks like.”

If anything that seemed to make her madder. Colour bloomed high across her cheekbones.

“Fantastic!” She exclaimed sarcastically, “I can’t wait to hear how I haven’t been dumped as your partner and taken off the case of the year, for no reason!”

“Uhhh...”

Her eyes narrowed, and I got the distinct impression this must be how I would die. Mauled to death by an enraged Tess.

Her eyes flashed a distinctive bright yellow, lighting up with magic, revealing how truly angry she was. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the small spot of mold, the only non-human organic object in the room, begin to quickly grow. Her Gaian powers were responding to her high emotions, flaring beyond her typical tight-fisted control.

Okay, time to shut this down before I start sprouting roots.

“Tess, I know you think I’ve betrayed you or something but I swear it’s not like that. The Seraphim king specifically asked me to work with one of their own.”

Her face softened slightly and I charged on ahead. “You know I’d pick you as my partner any day of the week. But this was out of my hands.”

A stubborn pout formed on her lips. “Hutch could’ve said no. You could’ve said no.”

“To royalty?” I asked.

“Fine.” She sighed her eyes fading back to their usual brown and I sagged in relief. Her finger shot out, pointing directly at my face.

“But next time I hear it straight from you! Not Petra Kaminsky.” She spat the words, hatred seeping into her tone.

Petra Kaminsky was a fellow PK and number one on Tess’s hit list. The Hydro was a nasty, vindictive, bitch. One who openly lusted after Tom, despite their breakup over a year ago. Their relationship, if you can call it that, was brief and passionate, ending when Tom woke up and realized what she was really like behind the flirty banter and D cups. Since then Tom attempted to avoid her like the plague but Petra was determined to win him back, much to the annoyance of Tess.

If anything could get Tess to act on the connection between her and Tom it would be Petra. And judging by the way Tom occasionally encouraged Petra’s aggressive flirting, he knew it too.

“I promise,” I said solemnly.

“Now, what’s the deal with this case? Office gossip says you’re going after the purists.” She said, concern wrinkling her brow.

“I can’t tell you much.” Typically, we were able to share the details of our cases amongst all the PK’s, but because of Jehiel’s request for secrecy, I was on my own. “Just that the purists may be involved.”

Her eyes flashed yellow in worry. “I don’t like this.”

“Yeah, me neither but at this point, I don’t have much of a choice.”

Tossing her blue hair over her shoulder, Tess pinned me with an intense look. “You need me, you call. No matter what some bird king says.”

I opened my mouth to respond when a tapping on the door cut me off. Tess quickly pulled open the door to reveal Stan standing on the other side.

“What the hell is that?” Tess shouted, paling at the sight of Stan’s freaky face.

“That is Stan. He’s the newest member of our team.”

Tess looked at me like I was crazy and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You are always getting caught up in the weirdest things,” Tess said, warily backing away as Stan clomped towards her.

“Nguuuuh.” It said, reaching out to hug Tess’s leg.

“Aww, it likes you.”

“I am so getting you back for this.” Tess ground out as she tried to pry the eager Nuppeppō from her but the thing was molded to her skin.

“Can you look after it while I get some work done?”

Without waiting for an answer, I turned on her heel, striding from the room.

“Lia!” Her desperate shout followed me.

“Thanks!” I called back grinning.

Reclaiming my seat at my desk, I quickly opened up the case files and began to read through the data.

Five victims, each taken from their homes at night, held captive for exactly three days and then found dumped in places affiliated with Seraphim, the purist symbol branded on their foreheads.

The first: John Cooper, 60 years old, pure-blood Seraphim. A full-time stockbroker, John had no close family and was a self-proclaimed bachelor for life. His body was found in the lobby of a Seraphim hotel.

The second: Takai Chen, 40 years old, pure-blood Seraphim. Married to Buala Chen, a human, Takai was a stay at home dad, looking after their two hybrid children. His body was found in a classroom at the local Jaxai school.

The third: Charlie Brook.

My eyes stuttered over the next words and I forced myself to take a steadying breath.

12 years old, pure-blood Seraphim. Daughter of Hazel and Frank Brook, Charlie was the top of her class, spending most of her free time either studying or playing with her human best friend Yuri Drummond. She was found inside the Jaxai museum by a security guard.

The fourth: Mark Bowater, 37, full-blood Seraphim. PeaceKeeper. My heartbeat pounded.

A PeaceKeeper?

Mark’s body was found by his human PK partner in the bathroom of Ecstasy, a Seraphim owned club.

And finally.

The fifth: Sandy Carlyle, 28, full-blood Seraphim. Sandy was a strong advocate for the joint education of human and Jaxai. Her body was found outside the Seraphim embassy.

The obvious connection between the victims was their race, all listed as having full Seraphim blood. However, staring at the list of victims another connection jumped out at me, humans. All the victims had close connections to humans. From Takai Chen’s human wife to Mark Bowater’s human PK partner. Was whoever was behind the murders objecting to human and Jaxai relations? It fit with the purist angle but something didn’t quite seem right.

What was Quinn Pratley’s involvement? The man was labeled by gossip magazines to be the world’s biggest player but despite being a total sleaze bag he didn’t seem the type to get involved with purists. He was listed yearly in the top 100 richest people on earth, so it was doubtful his motivation was money. If only Levi hadn’t run off, we could’ve been questioning him right now.

Quickly flicking through the files, I pulled up last night’s security footage from the embassy. At first, there was a whole lot of nothing until around 2 am. A plate less van pulled up on the curb next to the embassy. A figure emerged, despite the poor quality of the image, I could make out that it was a man. Dressed all in black, he had a ski mask over his face, concealing any hint of his identity. Sliding open the van door, he pulled out the naked body of Sandy Carlyle, hoisting it over his shoulder. Walking across the lawn in front of the embassy he lowered her body, propping her up on a tree. Once she was positioned to his liking, he pushed back to his feet and walked calmly back to his van. Climbing back in he took off, disappearing from the shot.

Closing the video, I leaned back in my chair with a curse, all that managed to do was confirm that the killer was male and in good shape. Frustrated I ran a hand through my hair, glaring at the case files willing something to leap out at me. At the sound of my phone’s ringtone I gladly looked away, snatching my phone off my desk.

Jason.

A grin curled my lips and I quickly hit the answer button.

“Lia,” Jason’s smooth drawl echoed down the line, raising goose bumps on my arms.

“Jason,” I replied in the same tone.

“I’m in town, thought maybe we could meet up for drinks tonight.”

It was clear he had a lot more than drinks on his mind and typically I’d take him up on the offer. Jason and I had a simple relationship, whenever he was in town and we both felt like it, we’d hook up. No strings attached, the only type of relationship I dealt in.

“I wish I could but works got me slammed,” I said wistfully.

“Shame, it’s been a while. I’ve missed you.”

Snorting, I shook my head “Somehow I doubt you lost much sleep over it.”

His laughter brought a smile to my own lips. “Ah Lia, always busting my balls.”

“Someone has to keep you humble.”

“Hunter.” Hutch’s voice cut through the chaos of the bullpen. Glancing at him I raised an eyebrow. “My office, now.” Turning on his heel he strode away.

“Duty calls,” I tell Jason with a sigh.

“Don’t work too hard Lia, you know what they say all work and no play...”

“Means one less bad guy is walking the streets.”

“Touché. If your schedule clears up, call me.”

“Don’t wait up Jason.”

“For you, always.”

Disconnecting the call, I shut down my computer and strode towards Hutch’s office.

Something told me the boss man didn’t have good news waiting for me. Not bothering to knock I swept into his office coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of another man sitting across from Hutch. His dark brown eyes were bloodshot and puffy either from tears or lack of sleep, perhaps both. Deep lines bracketed his face, worry furrowing his brow. I put his age roughly around mid-thirties, although a few strands of gray prematurely peppered his dull brown hair making him appear older. He lacked substance, his presence in the room almost forgettable. He was the type of man who could easily fade into the background and I found myself subconsciously relaxing. In this room of predators, he was unmistakably prey.

“Agent Hunter I’d like you to meet Rodrigo Alvarez, Miss Carlyle’s partner.” Hutch quickly introduced us. Shaking Rodrigo’s hand I gave him a solemn look.

“I’m very sorry for your loss Mr. Alvarez.”

“Rodrigo, please,” he said, “and thank you. I still can’t believe she’s gone.” His voice hitched with emotion, eyes filling with a fresh wave of tears.

Ending the handshake I gave him a moment to compose himself as sympathy welled up inside of me. Talking to the victims loved ones was never an easy or fun thing to do. Typically Tess took the lead, the mourners finding her soft voice and approachable manner more soothing than my abrupt and seemingly dispassionate questioning. It wasn’t that I was indifferent to their loss, rather that I was eager to find justice for the victim.

“What brings you to the station Rodrigo?” I asked.

Resettling himself in his chair, he met my gaze once more. “After I was told of Sandy’s,” he paused, swallowing down more tears, “her death, I went back to her apartment to...” he let out a self-deprecating laugh, “I don’t know, I guess a part of me hoped she’d still be there, waiting for me.”

Waving a hand through the air he brushed aside his comment. “Anyway, I went to her apartment, I hadn’t been there since the night she was taken, it- it just felt wrong you know?”

His sad eyes implored me for understanding and I gave him a small nod. He flashed me a grateful smile, which quickly slipped from his lips.

“So I was just walking around, trying to- to feel her one last time. When I noticed this on her bedside table.”

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a cheap cell phone, the kind you used when you didn’t want anybody tracing your calls. Hutch straightened in his chair, his gaze laser focused on the phone. My instincts cried out in warning. Quickly snatching a pair of latex gloves from Hutch’s desk I slipped them on and grabbed the phone from Rodrigo’s hands.

Clicking the lock button, my stomach dropped at the sight of the wallpaper. Bile filled my mouth and I silently passed the phone over to Hutch. His newly gloved hands shook as he saw the picture. It was Sandy, bound naked to a chair, a filthy looking rag gagging her mouth. Her eyes shone with fear, tears pouring down her face as she stared at the person taking the photo, her body attempting to cringe away from her killer.

Rage and disgust fought for dominance inside of me. I wanted to track down the scumbag who did this and tear them limb from limb. Memories of my own attack rose close to the surface, the scars on my back seemed to burn, white hot reminders of the evil that existed in our world.

The clearing of Hutch’s throat brought my attention back to the present. It was then that I noticed the room seemed to shake, the items lining Hutch’s bookcase jumped about wildly. The knick-knacks on his desk skittered across the smooth surface, crashing to the floor. Power choked the air, squeezing the room in a deadly hold, primed to blow at any second.

Closing my eyes I forced my breathing to slow, my heart rate to calm. It took a few moments for it to work, the rage battling to keep its claws sunk deep into me. Eventually, years of training won out and I opened my eyes to find the room calm once more. Rodrigo’s mouth gaped as he glanced around the room before turning wide, fearful eyes on me. I silently cursed myself for my lack of control, the display of raw power far beyond the capabilities of an ordinary Jaxai, let alone a hybrid. Snapping back my shoulders I forced myself to focus.

“Sandy was taken during the night?” I asked Rodrigo, even though I already knew the answer. Like all the other victims Sandy was mysteriously taken from her bed during the early hours of the morning, the killer leaving no trace except for a single piece of paper with the purist symbol on the victim’s pillow.

“Y-yes.” Rodrigo stuttered, jolting out of his shock.

“Were you at her apartment the night she was kidnapped?”

“No, but we had plans to meet up the next morning. When she didn’t show I got worried, so I went to her apartment to check if she was okay. When I got inside and saw the piece of paper I knew she’d been taken. I immediately called the Aviary, and soon enough the Seraphim were swarming the place.”

“And the phone wasn’t there at the time?”

Rodrigo shook his head viciously. “No, it wasn’t there and I highly doubt the Seraphim managed to overlook it when they were checking the place out.”

Meaning that the killer had to have snuck back into the apartment and left the phone during the three days they held Sandy. Why the sudden change? Something must have happened if the way he mutilated Sandy’s back and now the taunting from the phone was any indication. Something to tip him from fanatic into psychotic.

“Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Sandy? Or anything she could have done that would have caused someone to want to hurt her?” I asked softly.

Rodrigo’s eyes filled with despair. “No! Sandy was an amazing person. Everyone who met her loved her.”

“Even with her campaigning for the joint education of Jaxai and humans?”

His jaw clamped down. “Of course because of that, she had haters. Every now and then she’d receive hate mail, death threats but that all came with the job. I tried to get her to quit, but she wouldn’t give up. Said what she was fighting for was worth a couple of nasty letters.” Pride and sadness filled his face. “She said owed it to the kids not to give up at the first speed bump.”

“Sounds like she was an incredible woman,” Hutch said softly, sincerity warming his words.

“She was.” Rodrigo choked out.

“As trivial as those death threats may seem I’d really like to see them if you wouldn’t mind sending some copies to the station,” I said.

Rodrigo gave a solemn nod “I’ll drop them off later today.”

A thought came to mind, “Rodrigo, do you know if Sandy ever came into contact with Quinn Pratley?”

His eyes went wide, “Yeah, actually she did. He was one of her biggest opposers for the joint education of Jaxai and humans.”

Interesting.

“Really?”

“Yeah, he attended every meeting she had with an educational board and spoke against her. She really hated him.” He paused and I could see the gears spinning in his head, “Why? Do you think he’s the one who did this? Do you think he killed Sandy?”

“At this point in time, I’m unable to say. However, he has been made part of the investigation and I will be looking into him.” I reassured him.

Leaving my seat, I rolled my shoulders back.

“Well thank you for coming in and giving us this vital piece of evidence Rodrigo,” I said, pointing to the phone on Hutch’s desk, “this is really going to help us with tracking down the killer.”

Standing up, Rodrigo cleared his throat before reaching out to shake my hand once more. “I’m glad I could help agent, I’ll do anything to help catch Sandy’s killer.” His eyes burned from within, an almost hungry look taking over his features. It was a look I had seen all too often in the mirror.

“We’ll do everything we can to get her and the other victims justice,” I promised.

As Hutch and he said their goodbyes I quickly snatched up the phone once more. Forcing myself to ignore the horrid wallpaper I scrolled through the phone. The previous owner had deleted the majority of the apps, leaving only a few possible things to browse through. Not brave enough yet to scroll the phones photo gallery I elected for the safer option of texts. There was only one message on the phone, the sender a random string of numbers. Opening the message, my throat dried, my heart swelling with dread.

The cleansing has begun.

Five have fallen. More will follow.

Repent.

Death is coming.

Well, at least it didn’t rhyme.