I did.
And it was at times like this - when I was confronting such useless devastation - I was fiercely glad that fate had made me a guardian. I mightn't have wanted the job - and I might still be reluctant to kill on order - but if I could help take out the monsters who wreaked this sort of havoc, then hey, I could live with a bit of blood on my hands.
The scanner beeped, confirming that the initial scan of the room had been completed, I moved forward, my gaze on the kitchen. The smell of death and the sense of evil seemed to be concentrated there, and a large part me didn't want to go anywhere near it. But that wasn't an option. If there was a soul to be found, then that was where I'd find her. With the major parts of her body, not her bits.
My steps slowed as I neared the breakfast counter The blood was heavier here, huge swaths of color rather than mere splatter.
I licked my lips and forced my feet on through the open doorway between the counter and the wall.
Her torso lay in a corner, huddled between the cabinets and the fridge, as though she'd sought refuge from whatever had come after her.
Her head...
Bile rose in my throat, and it was all I could do not to throw up right there and then. Someone had driven a knife through her right eye, into her brain, back out through her skull, and into the plaster. Then they'd shaved her.
And I have no idea why that seemed such a defilement, but somehow, it did.
A hand touched my shoulder and I jumped.
"Jesus, arc you all right?" Cole asked. "You're shaking like a leaf."
"I'm fine," I said, voice somewhat restricted as I battled the urge to puke. "I just wasn't expecting... that." I waved a hand at the woman's bald head.
"No," Cole agreed, then added, "Worse, there doesn't appear to be any hair here. Our killer must have taken it with him."
I looked around and saw that he was right. "Oh, great. A freakazoid with a hair fetish. Just what we need."
He smiled, but there was little amusement visible in his pale blue eyes. "All hunters like their trophies."
I stared at him for a minute, not sure whether to be angry or just let it slide, when energy stirred past me.
I looked away. In the corner near the body, a wisp of thick air moved. It looked to be little more than smoke curling gently upward, barely visible against the darker shadows that clung to the body.
But it was not smoke, and a chill ran through me.
Her soul had come to talk.
"She's here," I whispered.
Cole looked at me, then at the body. "Where?"
The smoke grew stronger, found shape. Became more human in form. "Near her head."
He frowned. "I can't see anything."
"Trust me, she's there." I rubbed my arms but it did little to ward off the chill. It was almost as if seeing and communicating with these lingering souls brought me altogether too close to the fierce cold of the underworld.
And far too close to that lingering, gloating sense of evil.
Wispy features formed. A mouth opened. He did it, she said.
There was an awful lot of anguish in that statement. And a pain that had nothing to do with her dismemberment.
Who? I asked the question telepathically, though I was still unsure as to whether a soul could actually understand or even hear me.
The figure stirred - an insubstantial form with only vague features. Liam.
So they could hear me, even if some didn't answer directly. Who is Liam?