The Sacrifice Duet by A. Zavarelli & Natasha Knight

Author:A. Zavarelli & Natasha Knight [Zavarelli, A. & Knight, Natasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

THE PENITENT

1

AZRAEL

To see the printed photographs, to hold them in my hands and look at them, is somehow worse than I imagined. No. That’s not right. I couldn’t imagine something as sick as this.

“Who the hell is this asshole?” I ask for the hundredth time. The 8x10 of Willow swimming naked is in my fist, my eyes glued to the butchery—again, that fucking word in my life—that has obscured her face. The rage in the carving—of the carver—is glaring. The photograph has almost been mutilated, with repeated lines etched into her forehead. The glossy paper has been worn, destroyed where he stained her beautiful face with the Disciples hallmark, the cross, their signature forever defiling their victims.

I don’t know why I assumed they carved that cross into the women after death. The sheer quantity of blood in the photos of their victims is evidence that they had been sliced into the skin while they were still alive. My mind cruelly manifests the image of Willow being held down, her face, her tears, her pain as the sharp point of the blade is dragged across her forehead.

I slam my fist down on the table. “Who the fuck is he?”

Larissa glances at the closed door, then to Emmanuel. “I shouldn’t really be showing you these,” she starts, but my brother puts up a hand to let her know he’ll handle it.

“Give us a few minutes, Larissa. Let me talk to my brother,” Emmanuel says.

“I can get into serious trouble.”

“I know. And we appreciate this very much. You know that. It’ll be fine. I promise.”

Although reluctant, Larissa picks up her phone and walks out of the room. We’ve met her at the back of a restaurant usually reserved for small dinner parties rather than her office at the police station because she’s right. She shouldn’t be showing us these.

“A man’s been writing her letters. Threatening her for a while. It’s the same person or people, I’m sure.” Guilt gnaws at me, my gut tight with it… and with the knowledge that she’s locked up in my house.

“She’s safe for now. Let’s figure out who the car is registered to,” Emmanuel says.

“I want the photographs. All of them,” I say.

“Brother, this is an open investigation. They’re not going to hand those over.”

I grit my jaw. He’s right, I know. I glance at the other photos laid out before him. They’re of Raven Wildblood. She doesn’t wear the carving on her forehead. The man who did this has Willow in his sights. She is his obsession and based on the timeline of the photographs, Willow being as young as sixteen in some, he’s been stalking her for a while.

“We need to contact the Wildbloods. Make sure they know.”

Emmanuel nods tightly just as the door opens and Larissa re-enters. She hands over a folded piece of paper. “Here,” she says, and Emmanuel takes it. “It’s the registration of the vehicle, but I’m not sure that’s going to get you very far. The owner is a seventy-year-old man from Portsmouth, New England.

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