Page 10 of Soul Sucker

Vadim sat back in his chair. “And rightly so. I killed one of my team members.”

Alexei leaned back against the door and folded his arms. “Well, that is debatable. Natasha wasn’t exactly the dependable type, was she?”

“She was completely dependable right up until she went nuts and screwed us all over.” Vadim shoved a hand through his dark hair. “And until that mess is cleared up, I’m stuck here doing quality control on past cases.”

“Not anymore.” Alexei smiled.

Vadim stiffened. “What’s going on?”

Alexei came in and shut the door. He activated his Fae-Web and Vadim tried to read its shifting images and words.

“There’s been a new outbreak of murders.”

“What kind?”

Silver images floated across Alexei’s skin, circling his head. “Your kind. Serial killer murders.”

“Where?” An all-too-familiar mixture of dread and excitement settled in his gut.

“In San Francisco.”

Vadim sighed. “Damn. She’ll never let me go.”

“Shemight not have a choice. This is big, Vadim, and you might be the only guy who can help them catch this killer.”

* * *

Ella paidthe cashier at the one and only supermarket in Tiburon and then picked up her bag, ready for the walk back to her apartment. On her side of the bay, the sea was shining and lapping gently against the rock-strewn shore. On the other side, the city was barely visible through the encroaching fog and haze of congestion; only the stark parallel lines of the steep streets stood out like a giant tic-tac-toe puzzle.

She nodded friendly greetings to the dozens of joggers and bicyclists who relentlessly made their way up and down the sea path. About five minutes from home, when the path took a definite upward swing, she started to puff. At her age she could do with the exercise, but she’d never been that inspired to actually join a gym or anything proactive. Her crazy lifestyle kept her moving. She glanced up at Tom’s house as she passed and saw that the lights were on in the kitchen. Despite her stressful day and the bad feeling the murder had left in her gut, at least she’d be able to keep her promise and go over to help him sort out his little problem.

She dumped her shopping and keys on the countertop and took off her jacket. There was no sign of the guy from last night. He’d even cleaned up after himself and made the bed, which made her very happy.

The bucket of still-warm fried chicken she’d bought at the supermarket called out to her. Did the thing under the bed next door really need it all? Surely she deserved a wing or two. She took a plate from the cabinet over the sink, added a beer from the refrigerator and sat at the granite countertop to eat.

While she ate, she tried to picture Christa Morehouse and place her at the Otherworld Academy. She had a faint recollection of a shy girl who’d spent most of her time hiding behind her long curtain of mousey hair and talking in monosyllables. Even after spending three years with her, Ella couldn’t remember what subjects the other woman had excelled in or form any strong opinion about her at all. Christa hadn’t been a drinker, or hung out after class, because Ella would have remembered her. So what had changed? Why had the empath ended up drunk and alone in a new apartment with all her memories sucked out?

By the time she’d finished her chicken, the light was beginning to fade, so she headed for the shower and a change of clothes. She knew Dianna, Tom’s gran, would be delighted if she stopped by to spend the evening playing video games with her boisterous grandson. In her backpack along with her usual stuff, she put the latest in grandma-approved Pokémon games, and one that was first-person shooter and aimed at teens. That one was definitely not approved, but much more fun, especially for keeping her shooting skills sharp.

She locked up and took the shortcut over the fence to the back of Tom’s house. She could see Tom and Dianna sitting at the kitchen table, so she tapped lightly on the glass paneled door. When Dianna looked up, Ella waved.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Ella came in and took a seat opposite Tom. She tossed the video game out on the table. “I’ve come to extract revenge from your grandson.” She stared at Tom. “Are you up for it?”

Dianna laughed and hugged her grandson. “She looks like she means business.”

Ella patted Tom on the back. “Come on, buddy. I hope your bedroom’s clean enough to receive visitors.”

“It’s okay,” Tom said as he shoved his chair away from the table. “Gran makes me clean up way too much.”

“I’ll bring you up some snacks later,” Dianna called.

Ella paused to look back at her. “I brought some chicken. I hope that’s okay?”

“Sure, that boy will eat anything.” Dianna chuckled. “I’ll bring some iced tea up then.”

“That would be awesome.”

Ella followed Tom up the stairs to his second floor bedroom, which had been converted out of two small attics. Exposed beams painted a soft cream crossed the ceiling and the triangular-shaped windows faced out over the bay and back at the steep hillside behind the house. When she was a kid, Ella would have died for a room like this. She’d had to share a room with three other kids at school where she’d been dumped, kicking and screaming, at the age of five. She’d been allowed topersonalizeher space, but it wasn’t the same.

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