Page 11 of Love Me Darkly
“Never heard of it,” Donovan murmured.
“Few have,” said Aveline. “The worshippers of Azrael are an obscure group, headed mostly by elites. They call themselves The Veil. The symbol is made up of various elements, all of which are significant. The triangles making up the pentagram represent the trinity of death, sacrifice, and rebirth. The crescent is the arc of judgment. The circle embodies the eternal cycle of life and death, and the notches are geometrical points for ritual orientation.”
She reached out and turned the page, revealing a passage and a printed painting of an angel. A sinister angel wearing a hooded robe and holding the staff of a scythe. He was surrounded by bright, white light, with several pairs of wings stretching out behind him.
Mateo read the description from the opposite page out loud:
“Before flesh, there was Shadow. Before voice, there was Breath. And before Death bore its name, there was Azrael, He Who Stands Upon the Threshold. He is not the end, but the Divider—the Keeper of the Threshold, who severs the thread between falsehood and flame. To walk the Path is to offer the self in fragments. To drink the Silence is to awaken.”
“Sounds like a bunch of bullshit,” Donovan snorted. “What does that even mean?”
Aveline snatched the book and glared at Donovan. “This is no laughing matter. The Veil might be a small order, but they are a dangerous one. In some religions, Azrael is known as the angel of death. He is said to possess a register of all the souls of mankind, and only he knows which of them are blessed or damned.”
Mateo crossed his arms over his chest, his mind racing a mile a minute as he tried to put this information together with what he knew about the crime scenes and the UNSUB. “So, this cult worships the angel of death, but the sigil indicates that life and eternal judgment are factors as well.”
“The judgment part makes sense if we consider our victims,” Donovan offered. “Every one of them was high risk, with past arrests for prostitution. All except one.”
Mateo winced, ignoring the other man’s gaze. He hadn’t had time to discuss the particulars of Mari’s case with Donovan and didn’t relish doing so now. If Donovan had read the case files, then he would have known why the UNSUB had deviated from his victimology for one kill.
“Imperfect sacrifices,” Aveline said. “That is what Azrael requires, according to the doctrine of The Veil. Only through the spilling of blood and sacrifice can the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead be thinned. Only when the veil has been thinned can purification begin—purification of the world and enlightenment. When the veil is thinned, and the eyes of Azrael peer into the realm of the living, the greatest truth of all will be revealed.”
“What truth is that?”
Aveline shook her head. “That, I cannot tell you. The Book of Azrael is a fiercely guarded relic. There are only a limited number of prints in existence. As extensive as my collection is, I don’t have a copy of that particular text. From what I can gather, The Veil thinks their rituals will eventually result in the manifestation of Azrael in some way.”
“In the end, it doesn’t matter why,” Donovan said. “All we need to know is that this UNSUB is clearly involved with The Veil somehow. He could be an acolyte or even a leader.”
“Maybe he’s just a weirdo who stumbled on this Azrael shit online,” Mateo countered. Still, even if the UNSUB had picked this Azrael shit up by accident, it revealed something critical about him. He drew a sense of comfort—or, at the very least, a sense of purpose—from the ritual. It likely tied into a belief system centered around purification or divine judgment. Anyone compelled to kill under the influence of religious fanaticism would be far more dangerous than a killer without such convictions; they believed their actions to be righteous, which made them relentless and unrepentant.
A frown split Donovan’s brow. “That doesn’t make him any less dangerous. It only means he’s working alone. But, if the opposite is true…”
“Then this case is about more than just a single UNSUB. We need to get back to the office so we can discuss these developments with the team. I’m going to put Darcy to work finding information on The Veil. Until we can uncover surveillance footage from outside Solstice or identify our latest victim, there isn’t much else we can do.”
“Tread carefully,” Aveline warned. “The Veil is small but powerful. Their connections to elite circles ensure that they are protected from scrutiny. They will do what is necessary to guard their secrets.”
“We will,” Donovan assured her. “Thanks, Aveline. You might be responsible for helping us putting this case to bed.”
“In that case, I’ll expect a check in the mail from the FBI,” Aveline quipped, guiding them back to the staircase. “If I uncover anything else that might be useful, I’ll call you.”
“So, let me get this straight,” said Smith that afternoon over lunch. “Not only is this ritual killing shit for real, but the symbol on that coin might tie the UNSUB to some kind of cult?”
“Williams totally called it,” Jones reminded them, using a set of chopsticks to bite into an egg roll.
On the table in front of them three monitors displayed footage from a convenience store, a boutique, and a pizza place. All three sat in close proximity to Solstice and had cameras facing its exterior. They’d spent the afternoon going over the videos Jones and Smith had recovered from the few businesses that had been willing to surrender them without a court order. The footage went by on the monitors at twice the normal speed, each of them glued to the one in front of them. So far, they had found nothing out of the ordinary—just hours of deliveries and maintenance workers coming and going during the day and clubbers filing in and out at night. Still, Mateo wasn’t ready to give up. There was still a stack of tapes on the table between them.
“Yes, a gold star for Williams,” Mateo grumbled around a mouthful of fried rice.
“Thank you, sir,” Williams said with a half smile.
“So, what now?” Jones pressed. “Even if we find any useful information on the cult, we still have no way of knowing who the UNSUB might be. There’s no hard evidence tying anyone to the scenes.”
“We have the profile,” Mateo argued. “And we have Solstice. Williams, any word from Little Rock on the identity of their victim?”
“Nothing useful, sir. Twenty-one years old, lived in the area, and had a record for possession and solicitation. Same as the others.”
Donovan called for Mateo from the doorway to Darcy’s office. The urgency in his eyes had Mateo across the room in seconds.
“What happened?”
