Fading Light by Dennis Angela

Author:Dennis, Angela [Dennis, Angela]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Vampires, Paranormal Romance, Dragons, Fantasy Romance, Witches, Mages, Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2014-09-23T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Headquarters was unnaturally silent when Brenna stepped through the glass doors into the lobby. As she walked past the front counter, Lucy growled something nonsensical and slammed her window closed. Someone hadn’t had their three pots of coffee today.

Brenna moved down the narrow corridor in search of Seraph. The sterile hall with its white tile and white walls was such a stark contrast to the bright crimson entry way, it took a second for her eyes to adjust. When they did, she was standing in front of Damien’s office.

She stopped at the door and played her fingers across the bright orange tape that covered the frame. Although she had barely known Damien, he had seemed like a good guy. As a human among deviants, he had been like a fish out of water. But he had made the best of it. He hadn’t deserved to die young. And he sure as hell hadn’t deserved to be drained by a demon.

“You made it.” Seraph moved toward her down the long hall. “Will you walk the scene?” he asked as he stopped beside her. “It’s been a few days, but you might be able to sense something we missed.”

“Of course.” Brenna nodded. It didn’t matter how much time had passed. Death magic was similar to her magic, just on the opposite end of the spectrum. She could sense the residue years later.

Seraph pulled a switchblade from the back pocket of his jeans and cut through the tape. The metallic smell of dried blood and death had lingered. Damien’s desk was pristine, every pencil and notebook perfectly in its place. No blood splattered across the scratched mahogany surface. She ran her fingers across the wood, but there was no psychic residue. Fear left a strong aftertaste, and it always left a mark.

She glanced at Seraph. “Who was the last person to see him?”

“No one knows who he met with.” Seraph trailed behind her as she walked the room. “He didn’t have an assistant or keep a schedule. But he wasn’t stupid, and he didn’t take unnecessary risks.”

“You liked him.” The observation surprised her. Seraph wasn’t a human sympathizer. He had been irate when Damien had been forced onto the team.

Seraph shrugged. “He earned it.”

She sensed the pain behind his bravado. Damien had been a friend. Another of theirs lost to Adare. It intensified her desire to find his killer. Closing her eyes, she let out a long breath to clear her mind. Every magical death, even if it wasn’t violent, left residue.

She stopped at the stained white couch in the corner of the room. Dried blood splattered the cotton upholstery. She placed her hand on the largest spot and called forth her magic.

In times like these, she wished her powers were more refined. It would be so much easier if she could slip back in time and view the murder as it happened. But she could only sense the cause of death. Damien’s death had been painless, the life sucked right out of him.

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