Releasing the Demons (The Order of the Senary) Page 6

  Blaze and Kasen exchanged meaningful looks, his brother’s filled with a clear warning they were going to have a long conversation after this.

  As if it would change anything.

  “No, it’s not.” Blaze met her eyes, giving her no bullshit.

  She held his gaze for a moment longer before she returned her attention to her careful work. “Well, you’ve certainly made a mess.”

  It’s nothing compared to the leech on the receiving end.

  “Besides this disaster, everything turn out okay last night?” Kasen veered the conversation away from the implicit subject of Blaze’s violent tendencies.

  “Yeah, everyone’s good.”

  Since Kasen no longer resided at the compound in New Rochelle with the rest of his brothers, he checked in often to ensure they were doing fine. As the group’s healer, any and every mess came to him, including disasters such as the one Blaze had presented.

  And there were many, many disasters to be had.

  Things ran more smoothly now that they’d converted Veronica’s basement into a state of the art emergency room in North Bronx, but they no longer enjoyed the convenience of having Kasen down the hall. So, like Blaze, the guys tended to put off their ‘check-ups,’ trying to allow themselves to heal instead. Most of the time it didn’t work, so it made Kasen’s job harder in the end.

  And it pissed him off to no end when they didn’t come see him immediately.

  Blaze hid a smile as he watched his brother tend to him with surgical precision. It seemed they all lived to make Kasen’s life harder sometimes. But he was happy, happier than Blaze had ever seen him, and no one deserved it more than Kase.

  “So, Blaze,” Veronica piped up. “Quit smoking yet?”

  Here we go again. “Not yet.”

  “How about never?” Kasen quipped sourly, yanking another shard of bone from Blaze’s knuckle with great enthusiasm.

  “I want to make you an offer,” Veronica proposed, ignoring her fiancé. “I want to give you a tour of Montefiore’s intensive care unit. It’ll do wonders for you, I promise.”

  Blaze let out a laugh. “And I’m sure those people want to see an ogre like me by their bedside.”

  Kasen chortled and Veronica stabbed him with a sharp look. “You’re not an ogre,” she said as she glared at her fiancé.

  Kasen shrugged. “What? I wouldn’t want to see the devil by my bedside either—”

  “Kasen!”

  “All right, all right.” He surrendered. “That’s a great idea, babe. You should go, B, it would be a valuable learning experience for you.”

  Veronica whacked him. “You’re an ass.”

  Blaze’s jaw dropped. “Did you just say ass?”

  “I believe she did.” Kasen bubbled with laughter.

  “Good lawd, my ears are bleeding.”

  Veronica looked mortified. “Did you just say good lawd?”

  Kasen coughed through more laughter as Blaze grinned. “Yes, I most certainly did, Dr. Kerr. You shouldn’t use such language, it isn’t becoming of you.”

  “Ah, I’ll have to object to that,” Kasen said and Veronica gaped at them both, her cheeks glowing like miniature suns. “She’s cute when she blushes, isn’t she?” Kasen jutted his chin toward her, only to receive another whack on the arm.

  “Stop it! Both of you.” The heat spread all over her face and neck as she waved her forceps at Blaze. “I’m the one with the weapon here, Knight.”

  “Take it out on me, baby.” Blaze wiggled his eyebrows. “Don’t worry, I won’t feel it.”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Kasen bristled. “Now this is getting out of hand.”

  “Speaking of which.” Veronica wiped Blaze’s hand with a saline-soaked gauze and released him with a playful glare. “I’m finished. I’m pretty sure everything’s out, but I can’t be positive.” She set the forceps down as Blaze pouted. She laughed, stripping off her gloves. “You’re impossible.”

  Kasen also finished and took both of Blaze’s hands. “All right, Mr. Impossible, let’s see them.”

  Blaze shifted in his chair toward his brother, gut tightening. No matter how many times Kasen had healed him in the past, the prospect still shot a jolt of anticipation through him.

  Because it was one of the most foreign, disturbing sensations Blaze had ever felt.

  Kasen lifted Blaze’s hands and wrapped his fingers around his wrists. He pressed his thumbs into Blaze’s palms, but with the kind of nerve damage Blaze’d sustained years ago, he couldn’t feel any of it. His brother leveled his gaze with him, his eyes a dark orange that Blaze knew was a pale gray on the visible spectrum.

  The air in the room buzzed, making Blaze feel like he was inside a circuit breaker. Kasen nodded once before he pushed his power straight into him.

  Warmth rushed Blaze, but it was a whole different brand of warmth than what he carried; it had nothing to do with fire and everything to do with the divine. It spread out, coursing through his veins, filling his mind and heart before it hastened back toward his hands. Though brief, a mere blink of time, its effects lingered, lifting every hair off Blaze’s body and sending goose bumps over the parts of him he could still feel.

  Kasen inspected Blaze’s hands before he released them, always oblivious to the extent of his invasion. “All set,” he said with a warm smile. “Good as new. Or at least, good as before.”

  Blaze looked at his hands, their luminosity dulling now that the inflammation was gone. He spared Veronica a furtive glance as he flexed his fingers. It wasn’t the first time she’d watched Kasen heal him and it wouldn’t be the last.

  Her skin was also covered in goose bumps as she rubbed her arms, still at the mercy of the electricity humming in the air.

  And by the expression on her face, she was still in complete awe of what her fiancé was capable of.

  Blaze extended his fingers and rotated his wrists. His hands might feel like numb blocks of ice, but they moved and that was what counted. “Thank you.” He shared his gratitude between them. “Both of you.”

  Veronica smiled, patting his shoulder as she stood. “No need to thank us. You’re staying for breakfast, right? I’m making strawberry waffles.”

  Blaze was about to refuse, but at the mention of the words strawberry and waffle in the same sentence, he’d be a fool not to. Besides, he was starving. “Sure, if you have enough room for me.”

  “We always have room for you.”

  “I don’t know.” Kasen quipped. “That’s a lot of room.”

  Blaze gave him the honor of his healed middle finger as Veronica laughed. “Coffee?”

  “Please,” they both replied in unison before smirking at one another. Veronica disappeared into the kitchen, leaving them alone.

  Great. On to the long conversation.

  Kasen sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he nodded toward Blaze’s hands. “Mind telling me what happened there?”

  Blaze glanced down at himself, still in full gear, and noticed a rip in his T-shirt. He cursed softly, frowning. There goes another one. “Mind if I use your shower before we eat?”

  “Blaze,” Kasen growled.

  Sighing, Blaze brought his concealed gaze up to meet his brother’s. “I got in a fight, man, what’s it look like?”

  “Looks like you beat someone’s skull into the ground.”

  “Then that’s what it looks like. The leech deserved it.”

  Kasen’s jaw ticked. “When’s the last time you did something like that?”

  Blaze scowled, his blood starting to simmer. “What are you, my fucking psychiatrist? What is it with you guys lately? I’m fine.”

  Kasen didn’t flinch. “The last time I picked bones out of your hands was three years ago, Blaze. I remember it
well, since I had to knock you out to do it.”

  Blaze gritted his teeth, sending a glare across the table at his brother. Three years ago, Blaze had been a raving lunatic, filled with bloodlust, rage and hatred. He’d always been too high or too drunk to realize it, obliterating his brothers’ trust in the process and turning into the seething monster he truly was. They should’ve handed him over when he’d nearly destroyed everything they stood for. They should’ve sent him in for termination, a Knight gone rogue, a hybrid who was far too dangerous to live.

  But they hadn’t.

  They’d endured him; his breakdowns, his addictions, his violence, and they’d helped him get better. They’d chained the leech inside him, they’d gotten him through the withdrawals, and because of them he’d become human again.

  For that, he was forever indebted to them.

  “I made a mistake, all right?” Blaze pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, shoving the images of the past away. “I blacked out. I barely remember doing it.”

  “Did anyone see you?”

  “Kaj.” Blaze opened his eyes and dropped his hand away. “That’s it.”

  Kasen pitched a sigh. “Look, man, I couldn’t give a fuck about some leech getting his brains bashed in, but you know why I’m asking.”

  “Yeah, I know. I got it under control.” Or at least, I will.

  Kasen nodded. “Then you let me know when you don’t.”

  “So, you’ve seen him before?”

  The girl nodded, wearing far too much makeup for someone who looked no older than eighteen. Not to mention it was now streaming down her face, leaving smears of despair in its wake. “Yeah, he comes in here all the time,” she said hoarsely. “He’s hard to miss.”

  Valerie and the girl sat in a booth in the far corner for some privacy, but Bella Vista was crowded with people. All the girls who worked there were made up to the nines, even though they simply wore matching logo T-shirts and jeans. Most of them were Hispanic, gorgeous and young, which in turn attracted patrons of all ages, mostly men. The shop was clean, the service was great, and the coffee was fantastic. No wonder Deron frequented this place.

  In the middle of a slum like East Tremont, it was both a haven and a hunting ground.

  “Is there anything else you can tell me, ah . . .” Valerie floundered. “I’m sorry, what’s your name again?”

  “Bianca.” The girl’s eyes warmed briefly. “No, that’s all. I wish there was more I could tell you. Do you really think he hurt Elena, Detective Medeiros?”

  Valerie smiled gently. “Call me Valerie. Truthfully, I’m not sure. But like I told the other girls, I want you to notify me when he comes in. And be discreet, we don’t want him to know what’s going on.”

  Bianca nodded, overwhelmed with a fresh wave of sadness as she reached for a napkin from the aluminum dispenser. Her chin quivered as tears fell from her big dark eyes, splashing onto the bright green countertop. Customers noticed, glancing over curiously as they murmured amongst themselves.

  “I don’t know how anyone could do this to her,” Bianca sobbed quietly. “She was such a beautiful person.”

  Valerie’s chest tightened as she covered Bianca’s hand. “We’re going to find whoever did this. I promise. And he’ll get what he deserves.”

  Bianca gazed at her for a beat, as if weighing the truth in her words. “Am I all set to go now?”

  “Yeah.” Valerie sat back, releasing her. “But if you think of anything else, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

  Nodding, the girl stood, wiping her face as she tried to compose herself. She let out a throaty laugh at the sight of her makeup all over the napkin. “I guess I should go to the bathroom and wash this off.”

  Valerie smiled. “Might be a good idea.”

  “Thank you, Detective—I mean, Valerie.”

  “No, thank you. For your help.”

  Just as Bianca was about to turn away, Valerie said, “Bianca?”

  The girl’s dark ponytail swung as she turned. “Yes?”

  “Be careful, okay?”

  “I will.” She disappeared through the staff door.

  Once Bianca was out of sight, Valerie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, her attention now on the window and the people passing by.

  His name was Blaze.

  How appropriate.

  No last name, however. Which was no surprise, but Blaze was different enough to potentially give them a few leads—if that was even his real name. All the girls described him the same way Deron and Homes had. Big, intimidating, and as many of the girls put it, ‘bad boy’ attractive.

  Bad boy was right.

  Covered in tattoos, wearing sunglasses. Unfortunately, the girls couldn’t ID the ink. All in all, not much progress.

  Valerie honestly didn’t believe Blaze would return here, unless he was innocent or a complete idiot. The only apparent connection he had to Elena was a flirty customer-service relationship. According to the girls, Blaze had ‘finally’ asked Elena on a date, and they’d watched her leave with this supposedly friendly stranger, only to never see her again.

  But what baffled Valerie most were the bite wounds left on Elena’s body. Unless this guy was some kind of vampire daywalker, there was no way he could be the murderer. Yet all leads pointed straight to him. The only explanation Valerie could think of was a possible link to a vampire; maybe some kind of mortal minion. Although she had yet to encounter such a phenomenon, it wasn’t out of the question.

  After all, some humans were bound to surrender to the leeches eventually.

  Accomplice or not, if this guy had any part in Elena’s murder, he was guilty in Valerie’s book. And she would seek justice for Elena to the fullest extent of the law.

  Unsure of what to do next, she slipped her notepad in her messenger bag and stood, grabbing her coffee. She downed the last of its cold contents before tossing it in the trash. As she waved goodbye to the girls, they called out their thanks.

  Out on the street, rap music pounded from an old muscle car across from the coffee shop. Small groups of people gathered on the corners of each block. Most of them were thugs and hustlers, but they were pretty harmless. Although many of New York City’s slums were still slums, they’d grown peaceful for the most part, especially now that they had bigger monsters to deal with.

  Valerie disarmed the navy blue Dodge Charger, circling around to the driver’s side. The car was unmarked and the windows were tinted dark enough so no one could see inside. It belonged to the station, but she’d grown quite fond of it since she spent more time in it than anywhere else. She climbed in and set her bag on the passenger seat before pushing the key into the ignition. The engine rumbled to life, then settled into a low purr.

  She sighed heavily.

  God, she felt miserable.

  This case was one of the worst homicides she’d seen in a long time, and she definitely had her share of bad ones. It would be a while before she purged herself of Elena Delgado’s gruesome death.

  Last night she’d put her insomnia to good use by researching the vigilantes she so often heard about. She’d read through tabloid accounts, newspaper articles, and commentaries she would’ve never noticed had she not been looking. There were tons of editorials that read like novellas, relaying terrifying attacks and incredible rescues. She’d never realized how many people had experienced these acts of heroism, never mind those who’d actually reported it. And yet they went ignored, like another gaudy celebrity gossip column.

  But what intrigued Valerie most were the so-called ‘superpowers’ each rescuer had, particularly the one who held the ability to manipulate fire; or had some kind of experience with explosives. And if this superhero was the mystery man she now knew as Blaze, then he’d done his fair share of saving lives—including Deron’s.


  It left her more confused and frustrated than she’d been in the first place.

  Valerie pulled out onto the street, mind droning as she drove back to the station. The more she discovered about Elena’s case, the more complicated it became. She needed to find answers. Soon.

  Before the case was abandoned as yet another arbitrary vampire attack.

  As Valerie came to a stop at a red light, she plugged her ear buds into her cell phone and dialed Deron’s number. She slipped the buds in her ears as the light turned green, listening to the monotonous ring tone. It went to his voicemail after six rings.

  She didn’t leave a message, figuring she’d call him back later. She pulled onto the Cross Bronx Expressway and turned up the music, Lenny Kravitz’s ‘Fly Away’ blaring over the radio. The guitar riffs seeped into her bones as she sang along, softly at first, then louder as the song progressed. The lyrics resounded her feelings more than she cared to admit, but she belted them out anyway, taking comfort in knowing no one could see her jamming out in the car.

  And still, as she sang about escaping reality, she couldn’t think of anything else but a dead girl who’d crawled in her head and burrowed deep in her mind, tearing open an old wound that had never quite healed.

  Her casket was the color of the clouds that day.

  There were so many people surrounding the huge hole in the ground, all of them wearing black, all of them crying. Valerie watched numbly as her mother threw herself on Elise’s coffin, making a sound Valerie had never heard before. Dad ran after Mom, trying to peel her away so they could lower Elise into the ground. He was crying too, which only scared Valerie even more, because she’d never seen him cry before. Mom hit Dad over and over again, wailing and shaking in his arms. She kept saying “no” and asking “why” and she couldn’t seem to walk straight.