I suspected just this much contact was draining him; a full connection might kill him, if Nephilim could die. Fear spiked through me like a gladiator’s gauntlet. Closing my eyes, I willed my energy through that tenuous connection, knowing that was more wishful thinking than true magick.
But maybe, maybe it was enough. Because a place popped into my head, or rather, the image of one. Unfortunately, I had no idea where it was. From the surrounding countryside, it was probably on the Tex-Mex border, scrubland full of broken mesas and dry as dust.
Then even the prickle left me.
I got a piece of paper before the image left my mind’s eye. Though I wasn’t much of an artist, I captured the shape of the rock. I hurried out to the patio, where Jesse and Chuch were talking to some uniformed officers. Three squad cars had turned up, and since there was a dead body on the premises, they’d call the crime scene unit out too.
“. . . dunno who they were,” Chuch was saying. “Never saw ’em before.”
“You had trouble with the Montoya cartel, correct?” At Chuch’s nod, the officer made a note.
I could already see who would get the blame for this. It would probably be the first severed head in Texas that the Montoyas could honestly say they had nothing to do with. The two surviving brothers weren’t running the op anyway. A second in command had stepped up, from what I heard, and eventually it would be known as the Ramirez cartel, once he consolidated power. Not my business. I was finished with the cartels. I wanted to be done with angels, demons, and decapitations as well.
It took hours for them to gather all the witness statements and wrap up the scene. Since the criminals never entered the house, it minimized the inconvenience to the Ortizes, at least. Jesse stayed, overseeing the process, and offering plausible theories whenever another officer picked a hole in Chuch’s story. I was grateful to have him here.
At two a.m., the last of the city officials finally left. I touched Eva on the arm. After all the drama, I hated to bother her, but I intended to get moving as soon as I had enough information. “Who would know the famous rock formations nearby?” I asked.
Her jaw dropped. “You want to go sightseeing? Tonight?”
“No.” I hastened to explain, then showed her the drawing I had done.
“Oh. So you’re looking for Kel. You think he’s trapped?”
“I’m afraid he is.”
“Honestly, my mind’s a blank. Let me sleep on it. I’m sure I can come up with a local expert in the morning.”
That was frustrating, but it wasn’t like I could do anything about it. If I’d known where to look on my own, I’d already be asking to borrow the Charger. In their shoes, I didn’t know whether I’d loan me a ride, as I had a history of losing them. Over the past few years, I had gone through three vehicles; only the Mustang had withstood my reign of terror, and technically speaking, that belonged to Chance. Which was probably why it had survived.
So many problems to solve and I had so few resources. I closed my eyes on a sigh, resting my head on the back of the couch.
“That was more excitement than I’m used to,” Booke said, breaking my reverie. “Well, in person at least.”
Dolores laughed. “Stick around, you’ll get used to it.”
“If you get the chance, bid the others bonne nuit for me, will you?” He offered a cheery salute. “Oh, and don’t wait up.”
The slender woman blushed a little, and swatted at him with one of her myriad scarves. But she didn’t dispute his assessment of the situation. The two strode out to her car, entirely in charity with one another. Apparently Dolores only cut and ran if the spatter got on her outfit, which was a pretty impressive line in the sand. Otherwise, like most of Chuch’s relatives, she was rock solid. Of course, maybe she’d be more upset if the deceased had been fully human.
“We ID’d the host,” Jesse said, coming to the doorway a few minutes later. “Gigolo out of Vegas who went missing a few months back.”
“Is it possible for the Luren to take an unwilling host?” I asked.
“I’m not the expert, but I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure they can only be summoned into a willing body via sex magick.”
That sounded right, based on what I remembered from Sheol, but my time there was becoming vague and fragmented. Since I hadn’t been driving most of the time, that made sense. And sometimes the memories sneaked up on me like a sudden kick in the face. Then horror suffused me, and I worked to bury it all over again. Some of those things I said and did . . . how did I handle it? Denial wasn’t a solution, but I just couldn’t deal with everything at once.
One step at a time, right?
“I’m guessing the guy didn’t imagine the demon would use his body to go up against Barachiel, though.”
“Probably not.” Jesse didn’t sound sympathetic, though.
I figured he thought the dude should’ve known better than to rent his body out to a Luren. All kinds of things might’ve been promised in payment, none of which the guy would ever enjoy. No matter how foolish he’d been, I couldn’t be utterly unmoved by his fate. I hadn’t wanted to think about it until now, but that was a human being who lost his life in Chuch’s backyard.
Dammit.
“I don’t envy the detective working the case,” I said then.
He shook his head ruefully. “Me either. He’ll be looking for normal connections between the vic and killer, but there won’t be any. He’ll spin his wheels for a week and get nothing, even with our descriptions of the attackers. That’ll really stick in his craw.”
“You sound like you’ve been there.”
“Not under these circumstances, but yeah. And sometimes I wonder if a crime is demon-touched, if that’s why I’m coming up empty.”