Life Cycle (Preternaturals #5)

Life Cycle (Preternaturals #5) Page 6

Luc cleared his throat. “Nobody cares, Jane. We’ve got more important matters to attend to here than your instant communication withdrawals. Some day you’ll be glad there’s a place you can go without those annoying things ringing for your attention.”

Cole growled. The werewolf alpha didn’t do well when anyone talked down to his mate. He lost all his sense and reason. Another thing Cain didn’t find very attractive as a lifestyle.

“Will somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Cain was growing irritated.

“Fine,” Cole said. “The Cycler has struck.”

“Already?” Only two little Indians left.

The pack leader continued, “It’s hit the human media. It’s bad. Come with us, we need to show you.”

“I’m staying with Tam,” Anna said. Luc nodded and kissed her, then she left the tent, going right through it in her ghostly form without Luc to hold onto.

Cain looked away from the display of affection. There was no reason to be jealous of his brother. In the mating, Anna had fundamentally changed—a slow transformation that, over time, would make her more demon than human, but changes had happened in Luc as well. He could only feed from her. Luc had given up the freedom of the hunt, the freedom to seduce and kill. He'd given up what he was as an incubus.

The demon leader growled, and they all looked at him.

“What?” Luc said, his eyes narrowing.

“Nothing. I was just thinking.”

But Luc knew him too well; the suspicion didn’t leave his eyes. The man upstairs had royally fucked Cain and all the other demons he’d created. They could either be free or happy. They couldn’t have both. Maybe Cain would never be enslaved by his own guilt, but he’d always known that if he took a mate, his freedom was over forever. Luc had known it, too. But he hadn’t cared. That stupid witch had wormed her way into his heart. What was it with witches and their kind?

Luc couldn’t play around with others. Not based on some internal moral code, but literally, it wouldn’t work. If he tried to harm his mate in any way, it would only hurt him twice as much—that was how tightly he and Anna were linked. Cain had discouraged his demons from mating, playing up the freedom they’d lose. In truth, he didn’t want the man upstairs to be right about anything. He didn’t want to believe his punishment had been deserved or that it served any rehabilitative purpose. It made it easier to maintain the anger.

It was mid-morning when they reached the hive in Cary Town. Cole took the lead—after all, they were his caves that his pack lived in. The pack showed deference to Jane and Cole, but pulled back when they saw Cain and Luc.

“They’re all right,” Cole said. “I told you, we have an alliance with the demons because of Jane.”

Most of the pack relaxed a fraction at the reassurance, but the rest drew back and tried to make themselves invisible against the walls.

“Mara, get the television set up, please,” Jane said. The wolf disappeared down one of the cave’s corridors. She returned several minutes later, rolling a large cart with a flat screen TV on it into the center of the main den which served as a rec room and meeting hall of sorts.

“Please remove all small children back to the living quarters. We don’t want to frighten them,” Cole said.

Mother wolves ushered children down a separate hallway. Whatever was about to be revealed, the pack hadn’t seen it yet.

“All right, brace yourselves. There has been nothing but this on the news for the past hour.” Jane clicked a button and the television blinked on.

A newscaster stared out at them with a blank look plastered on her face as she spoke. “The president has issued a statement asking that everyone remain calm. We don’t know what this means yet.”

Jane changed to another channel. This one showed an image of the crime scene. This time a man on the scene spoke into a microphone.

“Full information of the state of the body is not being released, but if the killer is trying to emulate Jack the Ripper, it doesn’t take much imagination to guess the grisly details. The alleged killer released a bizarre letter directly to the media only thirty minutes before the body was discovered. In this letter he seems to be implying that he is Jack the Ripper. Of course, this is quite impossible.”

“Not everybody is that skeptical,” Cole said. “Unfortunately.”

On cue, Jane flicked past several more channels until she stopped on a news special that claimed to be covering all details on this fascinating case, up-to-the-minute and live.

“This is what we wanted you to see,” Jane said. She turned the volume up, as if it were necessary. It seemed to be a weird quirk from her human days: if something is important, make it louder, even if everyone can already hear it.

“... So you’re in the process of analyzing the handwriting of this letter?”

An academic type, with Einstein-crazy blond hair and thin-wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, nodded vigorously. “That’s right. And what we’ve learned so far is that the handwriting is remarkably close to the original Ripper letters. We’ll need to do more intense study, of course, but if it’s not him, it’s a remarkable forgery.”

“What do you mean, Doctor Horner? It must be a forgery. Jack the Ripper has no doubt been dead for over a century.”

The doctor looked at his hands, an embarrassed flush creeping into his cheeks. “We’ll see what the final tests say.”

Jane flipped through the channels again, worry creasing her brow. “You know what they’ll find when they run the final tests. Some will always think it’s a forgery, of course, but you know how the media is. They’ll amp the Ripper angle. And that’s not even the worst of it.” She stopped on another station where angry protesters gathered, chanting around a government building.

“Stop hiding the truth. We know what’s out there!” protestors chanted. They held signs that read things like: Demons among us, The Ripper is back, Tell the truth, We’re not alone.

Over the din, a pretty brunette in a raspberry-pink suit and matching lips spoke into a microphone with the ringleader of the protest group.

The man she spoke with wore flannel and had wild eyes. “We’ve always known something like this would happen,” he ranted, flailing his arms. “It’s time the people knew about magic and witches and demons and vampires and shapeshifters and all the rest. They’re out there. They’re all out there, and they’ve been preying on us for years. It’s time the truth came out.”

The reporter raised an eyebrow. “Could you elaborate on that thought, sir?”

“You heard me. The world we live in isn’t the world we think we live in. People need to wake up to what’s out there and fight for their freedom!”

“A-and what do you think the killer is?” The woman looked like she was watching a train wreck, too morbidly fascinated to look away or stop the cameras rolling.

“He could be anything. But he’s evil. They all are. We have to rally the people together, make sure the world knows, and stop this. Stop it now.”

Jane clicked off the TV and Cain just stared, trying to absorb it all.

“They can’t possibly take any of that seriously,” he said, still not believing what he’d seen. How could the human world become so unsettled in such a short period?

Cole ran a hand through his hair. “It’s partly to do with this media clusterfuck over the letter. I don’t think you get what a pop culture icon the Ripper has become. But I think it might be more. If Jack is old enough and has been absorbing the powers of others like him, he could have some magical control over individuals or even groups to induce panic. The letter itself could have some sort of enchantment on it. We’d have to ask Dayne if that’s even possible.”

“Fuck,” Cain said.

The werewolves in the den murmured amongst themselves.

“Exactly,” Jane replied. “We’re having a pack meeting in a few minutes, and Cole will get the word out through the theriantype.com network. We’ve got a ton of magic users we can pull to our side if this thing turns into a full-scale war. Our therian donors will be on board and can speak to others they know. Charlee’s called a meeting at the penthouse for after sunset tonight. None of the vamps here know about any of this yet. When they do, the shit is going to hit the fan. If they think the humans know, they may become less restrained and forget about the rule to cover their tracks.”

“Do you think you and Luc can infiltrate the crime scene? Find out what they know, find out who the cycler he killed was, anything that might help lead back to him?” Cole said.

Cain glanced over at his brother for the first time since the news. Luc looked pale.

“Yes,” Cain said. Ordinarily he’d argue about human dimension issues being none of his concern, but he could see how this situation could escalate—and escalate fast—without demon help. The entire preternatural world might have to unite on this one.

Chapter Three

After she’d eaten, Tam decided to wander. If Cain thought she’d stay in the tent indefinitely until he deigned to kill her or they caught Jack, she had a newsflash for him. The guards were terrified to let her leave, but she threatened to curse them and produced an energy ball scary enough for them to let her pass. They had no other option. With her energy recharged, they could hardly take her. If they went noncorporeal to avoid her energy balls, they couldn’t touch her, either. Stalemate.

She’d been here long enough that it seemed the sun should have come up by now. She was beginning to suspect there was no sun in this dimension. She hadn’t seen anything growing—a sure sign that the place was cloaked forever in darkness. But it was a peaceful kind of darkness, one she felt oddly safe in. And she hadn’t felt safe in so long she’d forgotten what it felt like.

She meandered down the cobblestone streets, watched the street performers, and stole fruit from carts—since everything seemed to be free. The demons didn’t have a concept or need for money. It wasn’t a dimension of scarcity, but of plenty.

A female demon stood at one of the fruit carts, giving Tam the once-over. “You’re Cain’s new pet? The very old witch? I should warn you women don’t last long with him.”

Tam rolled her eyes. “I’m Cain’s new prisoner because he won’t kill me like I asked him to.”

Violet eyes raised in surprise. “That’s a very odd human request. Most of you are terrified of death. I’m Daria, by the way.” She extended a bejeweled hand and Tam shook it.

“Tamara, but most people call me Tam.”

Daria tossed her a peach, and Tam peeled off the soft, fuzzy skin, thankful for something familiar in the midst of everything.

“I’d kill you, but if you need a magical death, it’ll have to be one of the boys. And they won’t go against Cain’s orders. The feeling around here is that if anyone kills you but him, that demon might never be released from the caves.”

“The caves?”

She nodded. “It’s where the demons who defy Cain’s laws are kept for years—nothing but boredom and starvation. It makes us go mad. One just got out after a forty-year stint. I don’t know if he’ll ever recover.”

“That’s awful.” Not that Tam had developed any illusions that Cain was anything more than a pretty monster like Jack.

Daria shrugged. “Maybe. But we have fewer numbers than other preternatural species. Only a thousand or so. The man upstairs doesn’t make demons frequently. It’s got to be something personal with him. Sure, we can’t die, but we can be tortured or cursed. We have a lot of skills that protect us, but the human dimension could become a dangerous place for us if we don’t follow Cain’s laws to the letter. Even with our powers, we can still be caught off guard or found out, which is why it shocks me he’s keeping such a powerful witch alive. You could do real damage here.”

“I asked him to kill me. You see how well he listens. Not like I was begging and pleading for my life with the big doe eyes or anything.”

“There you are!”

Tam turned to see Anna blazing a trail her way. When her friend reached them, she tried to grab Tam’s arm, but her ghostly hand went right through.

Anna let out a frustrated sound. “I can’t believe how frequently I still forget about the noncorporeal thing.”

Daria laughed. “Be glad for it. It’s a strength, not a weakness. It’s one of the most useful skills our species has—it protects you while you’re waiting on your other powers. It’s just the first one you get. The others will come.”

Anna frowned. “I thought I was a ghost or something.”

Daria shook her head. “You aren’t a ghost. Surely your mate explained it to you?”

“He did, but...” She appeared to be thinking back. “I just assumed. Maybe when I said ghost he thought I was being sarcastic. I don’t know.” She turned back to Tam. “Can we go back to your tent and talk?”

Tam exchanged a look with Daria, unsure she wanted to hear whatever Cain-related lecture her friend had concocted in their time away from each other. The demon gave her a sympathetic look and tossed another peach. The witch caught it in midair.

“Sure, Anna,” she said, feeling guilty the way she was thinking about her friend. She’d practically tricked her into Luc’s arms so she could have an immortal friend, and now she was planning on leaving her behind. The least she could do was have a conversation.

When they got back to Tam’s tent, she parked herself on the couch. “What is it?”

“What did you have to talk to Cain privately about?”

Tam shrugged and worked on her evasiveness. “Nothing.”

Anna planted her hands on her ghostly hips. “No, seriously, what was so secret that you could tell the grand high evil one, but not me?”