“Come on.” We moved into the main chamber of the church and down the aisles towards the stage up at the front. It was more than a little eerie being in such a large church while it was completely empty.
At the front, just by the base of the alter, was a large bloodstain soaked into the carpet. My nose wrinkled, telling me it was fresh, and likely from the security guard whose death we had witnessed on the video feed.
Wilder’s attention was drawn to another darkened patch in the rug. This one looked as if someone had tried to clean it after the fact and hadn’t quite been able to remove it.
The spot triggered an unwelcome flash of memory. Me, trying to hold a gunshot closed as Wilder bled out in my arms.
It was his blood staining the carpet there.
I swallowed hard and had to look away. “Let’s k
eep going,” I urged.
We moved past the two stains and to a door on the far side of the stage that was marked with a Private sign. I didn’t want to open it, but if we were going to find anything here that belonged to Deerling, this would be the place. The door was locked, but a simple lock wasn’t much use against werewolf strength. I turned the knob hard, crushing the brass in my hand like metallic bubblegum. The door opened easily after that.
If the lobby of the church had felt dark and unwelcoming, the stairwell leading down to the basement was downright spooky.
“I’ll stay up top and keep an eye out,” Wilder volunteered. From anyone else I might tease him and ask if he was too scared, but the truth is, we’d been down these stairs together once before, and I didn’t blame him for not wanting to face those memories a second time.
That he was willing to stand within sight of his own bloodstains on the carpet rather than go to the basement told me he definitely wasn’t a coward.
The rest of us went down single file. I found the string for a light bulb at the base of the stairs, but when I pulled it nothing happened. Guess only select things had been left operational in the church. No one had bothered to come down here and check on a bulb.
I took out my phone and engaged the flashlight app. Somehow using a flashlight down here made it ten times scarier. Every shadowy corner was a place Deerling might be hiding, waiting to jump out at us. My heart was in my throat the entire time as I swept the light over the room.
The cops had taken a lot of stuff out of here after Deerling had been shot. The cages where he’d once kept werewolves like Hank were gone, so too was his collection of bones and werewolf paraphernalia. Still, the place had a serial killer’s trophy room vibe to it I couldn’t shake, in spite of how empty it looked now.
I spotted a pair of work gloves on the counter and handed them to Santiago. They still had the very faint scent of Deerling on them, so even if they hadn’t been his per se, he had definitely worn them. That should be good enough for a locator spell. Something with his blood on it would have been the best, but we couldn’t exactly be picky here.
Santiago took the gloves from me with a nod of thanks, than placed them in his upright palms. A crackle of electricity filled the air as he mumbled incomprehensible words under his breath. He closed his eyes and the air filled with a smell like burning rubber. I wrinkled up my nose but was unable to chase it back. My eyes started to water as Santiago’s words came faster and faster.
Soon the room was filled with sparking bursts of light, bright pops and flashes of white emerging from Santiago’s hands. His voice got louder as the bursts came closer together, and all the hairs on my body stood on end the same time as I watched him work.
Everything moved in slow motion, like a series of photographs rather than real time video.
One moment I was watching Santiago chant, and the acrid aroma of magic was so overpowering I could barely breathe. The next moment Santiago was dead quiet and his eyes were wide.
“He’s here,” he said breathlessly.
“Where?”
Santiago’s eyes remained wide and he let out a little moan that sounded far too liquid for my comfort. Then he fell face first onto the floor. In the light from my phone, the knife sticking out of his back looked like a trick of shadows.
I lifted the phone up just in time to see Timothy Deerling lunge at me, his teeth bared and angling for my throat.
Chapter Twenty-seven
I braced myself for his weight to collide with me, but even though I was prepared, as soon as we hit the floor all the air was knocked out of my lungs. I could hear Secret yelling, but the flashlight on my phone had gone dark when Deerling and I landed. There was nothing but darkness and panic.
His teeth grazed my cheek and I let out a surprise yowl as he bit into the flesh. Motherfucker. Did he seriously just try to bite my fucking cheek open?
I managed to get my arm from where it was pinned between us and slammed my fist into his throat. He let out a loud groan and rocked back, giving me enough room to wriggle out from under his large body.
Secret was right next to me, and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness I could see she had her gun drawn.
“Check on Santiago,” I told Lucas, who seemed unsure of what to do. How long had it been since he last had to fight? No offense to the former wolf king, but he wasn’t exactly the guy I needed in my corner right now.
Deerling regained his footing faster than I would have liked, and before I knew it he was standing, looking poised to go another round. The gun Secret had leveled at his head didn’t seem to deter him any.