Only the Devout Page 11

  “Now we just have to figure out why.”

  “That can be your job.”

  IT TOOK TWENTY MINUTES TO sweep the greenhouse. The new lilies Claire purchased seemed to be the only plants damaged.

  On a whim, I exited the greenhouse and walked its perimeter. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but a set of footprints near the sidewalk on the east side caught my attention. I knelt, studying the indentations as I tried to decide what to do. The smart thing would’ve been to call Griffin, who was better at tracking. But the prints could have been Oliver’s for all I knew, and I didn’t want to drag Griffin away from something important if it ended up a waste of time.

  Rather than follow the footprints toward the greenhouse, I tracked backward. I found another print a few minutes later, and then a series of prints heading toward the woods. They all appeared to be made by the same set of shoes, which indicated I was tracking a single culprit.

  I couldn’t wrap my head around why someone would kill a street kid in the parking lot and then head to the greenhouse to rip apart some lilies.

  I wasn’t familiar with this part of the island. I’d visited the greenhouse numerous times, but the trees surrounding it were another story. In truth, Belle Isle wasn’t all that big. That didn’t mean there weren’t pockets left to discover.

  I carefully searched the ground until I found another set of tracks. This one seemed to indicate an entry point. I glanced over my shoulder, making sure nobody was watching, and then plunged into the trees. It might not have been a smart move, but it was better than going back and hanging out with Emmet and Mary. Anything was better than that, including coming face to face with a killer in the woods.

  It was slow going once I crossed into the trees. Following the path was difficult. I tried using my magic to illuminate a trail, but the limited light made that difficult to follow, too. At one point, I found a clump of three trees. The magic coalesced there, making me think whoever I was looking for had spent a great deal of time concealed among the trunks.

  I dropped to one knee and extended my fingers in an attempt to get a glimpse of my prey, but the magic was cloudy, almost muddy, and I couldn’t pull a face from the images floating through my head. I was so dedicated to the task that I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone until I heard a twig snap directly behind me.

  I reacted on instinct, the bruja mask slipping into place as I drew from my magic. I planned to knock out whoever was approaching, but I never got the chance.

  I registered two things at once. The first was that a man had somehow managed to sneak up behind me, probably because I was distracted. I recognized his face, but I couldn’t call out to get him to stop because he moved too fast. The second was that he was about to hit me with what appeared to be a tree branch. It was big, heavy ... and careening right toward my head. I tried to move, but the trunks didn’t give me much room to maneuver. The branch hit the side of my head. Hard.

  I fought to stay awake, but my head had other ideas.

  I felt myself drop to my knees despite my best efforts to remain upright. I tried to extend a hand to catch myself on one of the three tree trunks, but I missed and fell to the leafy ground and blinked once. Then my eyes closed as I briefly wondered if they would ever open again.

  My last thought was of Braden. He would be angry when he found out what I’d done. He would also blame himself for leaving me.

  I hoped I would get a chance to make it up to him.

  Eleven

  When I opened my eyes again I found myself in familiar surroundings, my grandfather’s house, back in the French Quarter. It smelled like home, and yet I knew I wasn’t supposed to be here.

  I rolled to a sitting position on the couch, recognizing it as the one he’d had when I was a child rather than the one he purchased when I was a student in the reaper academy. I’d always loved that couch and was annoyed when he’d dumped it. He found my attachment to physical objects amusing. He found the majority of my reactions amusing.

  He sat in his favorite chair, his cup of tea on the end table, and studied me with unreadable eyes.

  “I’m not supposed to be here,” I blurted out, confused.

  “I think that’s a matter of opinion,” he countered. “I don’t think you ever should’ve left.”

  This was a dream. I was still unconscious, but I couldn’t stop myself from engaging. “Just because you refused to believe that I would ever actually leave, despite the fact that I told you a hundred times that it was coming, that’s not on me.” I was feeling salty where he was concerned. “You could accept my phone calls occasionally.”

  “You shouldn’t have left.” He was firm. “You don’t belong in Detroit. There’s nothing there for you. What just happened should be proof enough of that.”

  I rolled my eyes even though it caused pain. My head was tender from the blow, but it was nothing compared to the bruise I was carrying on my ego. “This could’ve happened to anyone.”

  “It wouldn’t have happened here.” Grandfather was firm. “You knew how to read the people here. You wouldn’t have been caught unaware in familiar surroundings.”

  “Life can’t always be lived in familiar surroundings.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Just because you’re set in your ways doesn’t mean I have to live my life the same way,” I argued, fury overtaking me. I’d been tamping down my anger with him for months, and even though I knew I wasn’t really talking with him, I couldn’t hold in my frustration. “I’m your granddaughter. You’re supposed to love me no matter what.”

  Annoyance sparked in the depths of his eyes. “I will always love you. That will never change. If you believe it’s possible that I’ve stopped loving you ... .” He trailed off, frustration evident. “That’s not important now,” he said, making up his mind and leaning closer. “I’m here for you. The rest of it, well, the rest of it will work itself out. I will always believe returning to Detroit was a mistake. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

  My throat tightened. “I’m not dead, am I?”

  He laughed at the question. “You have a head like a rock. You get that from me. You might have a bit of a headache when you wake, but you’re certainly not dead.”

  “I’m in danger, though.”

  “You’re certainly in danger,” he agreed, nodding. “You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. That’s how he managed to approach you. You have to do better if you expect to find the answers you need.”

  “I’ve already found some of those answers,” I shot back, stubbornly jutting out my lower lip. “I know some of what happened. It was revenants. They’re gathered on the other side of the gate. They have a pocket between realities. We cut them off from returning, but they’ll try again. We’re coming up with a plan.”

  “That’s all well and good, but you’re still distracted. I believe this distraction has something to do with a boy.”

  Now it was my turn to frown. “Oh, don’t even start on Braden. He’s been there for me at every turn since I got to Detroit, which is more than I can say about you.”

  “Again, just because I’m angry doesn’t mean I’m not here for you. I’m your grandfather. I will always stand with you.”

  “It doesn’t feel that way.”

  “Yes, well, you’re having a bad day.” His lips quirked at my eye roll. “That’s why I’m here. We need to talk.”

  “Oh, now you want to talk.”

  He shot me his patented disapproving look, guaranteed to have me checking my attitude at the door. “You’re not alone, Izzy.” He was grave. “You’ve been moved from the spot where you were attacked. When you wake, there will be someone there. You must act quickly if you expect to overpower him.”

  I had no idea how he knew all of this, especially since he was most certainly a figment of my imagination. “I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “You’re all I have left. All I do is worry about you.”

&
nbsp; “And yet you don’t want to talk to me. That’s rich.”

  “We’ll talk again,” he promised.

  “You mean when you finally give up on trying to emotionally blackmail me? You think that if you play the silent game long enough I’ll come back to New Orleans.”

  “It’s your home.”

  “Not anymore. I’m not sure if it ever was. Detroit feels like home.”

  He studied me for a long beat. “Because of the boy.”

  “He’s a man ... although there are times he acts like a boy. His siblings bring out the worst in him.”

  “And I’m sure he brings out the worst in his siblings.”

  “He has a certain ... impact ... on them,” I acknowledged. “I’m not here to talk about Braden. He’s not going anywhere. You need to get used to that. Also, you need to get over yourself. There are so many things I want to talk to you about, but you refuse to pick up the phone. It’s annoying.”

  “It’s meant to be annoying.”

  “It also hurts. You’re my touchstone. I need you.”

  Sadness permeated his eyes. “I’ll start picking up the phone,” he promised.

  Even though I knew he wasn’t real, the words made me feel markedly better. “Great.” I brightened considerably. “I guess that means we can move on to the next problem. There’s a guy with me, right? I need to knock him on his ass instead of engaging. I’ve got this.”

  Grandfather was back to smiling. “Of course you do. You’re my granddaughter. Of all the trials you’ve faced, this ranks low.”

  I mustered a smile and ran my hands over my knees. “So, what do I do?”

  “You wake up.”

  I glanced around, expecting the words to have a magical effect on my dream world. When they didn’t, I frowned. “Do you have any other advice?”

  “Yes.” He shifted so his face was directly in front of my face. “Wake up right now!”

  MY EYES POPPED OPEN, BUT IT WAS difficult to see because everything remained dark. My senses kicked into overdrive the second I regained consciousness, though. Rather than immediately lash out, I remained still and gauged my surroundings. It wasn’t long before things became clear.

  I was in the old sawmill. I’d been here once before, during another attack. This one had been perpetrated by a revenant. I wasn’t worried about that happening this time, because a quick mind scan of the individual hunkered down with me told me I was dealing with a human. A very frightened, possibly injured, and completely overwhelmed human.

  “Knight?” The name popped into my head and I uttered it before I thought better of it. If I’d been playing things smart, I would’ve remained still until he closed the distance and then dispatched him before he even realized what was happening. I often act before I think, though. It’s probably my greatest weakness.

  He gasped but didn’t acknowledge I was right.

  “If you’re going to hit me in the head, you could at least say something,” I complained as I struggled to a sitting position. My head hurt worse than a thousand hangovers and was tender to the touch as I searched for a bump. I found it toward the back of my head. It was big. “Well, this sucks. Did you really have to hit me?”

  I could hear Knight’s labored breathing from the other side of the room. The light in the building was limited to what could filter through the dirty windows, so it took my eyes a few moments to adjust. The sight that greeted me was disturbing.

  Knight looked exactly like the glamour Luna put on, and yet he was different. His face was ashen and drenched in sweat. He clutched his side. I was almost certain I saw blood staining his shirt.

  “Are you going to ignore me?” I pressed. “That seems rather rude given the fact that you smacked me in the head.”

  The statement was enough to earn a response from him. “You don’t want to talk about rude, girl. Rude is attacking a guy who was minding his own business and then leaving him for dead in the woods. That is freaking rude.”

  I frowned. “I think you have me mistaken for somebody else ... and don’t call me girl.”

  Knight was incredulous. “I’ll call you what I want to call you.”

  “I’m not a girl. I’m an adult. I also have a name. It’s Izzy, in case you’re interested. Calling me girl equates me to a thing rather than a person. I don’t like it.”

  “Well, la-di-da.” Knight groaned as he shifted. “I can’t believe you’re complaining about me calling you ‘girl’ when you tried to kill me. That is just the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  He was talking more to himself than me. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t try to kill you,” I countered. “If you’re using that as an excuse for being rude, it’s unacceptable. You need to get it together.”

  “Um ... in case you haven’t noticed, I’m the one in charge here. I kidnapped you. You can’t argue with that simple fact.”

  “I can’t,” I agreed. “You definitely kidnapped me ... after smacking me over the head. That hurts, by the way. I could have bleeding in my brain for all you know. You should come up with a different greeting.”

  “Well, next time I’m almost murdered and left for dead in the woods, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said dryly. “Speaking of that ... where are your friends?”

  I was still feeling a little slow, what with the being knocked unconscious thing, so it took me longer than it should have to absorb the question. “My friends are back at the aquarium. Why did you destroy the flowers in the greenhouse?”

  “I was looking for pot. I’m in pain, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  I was amused despite the situation. “And you thought we grew pot in the greenhouse? You know that it’s open to the public, right? I don’t think law enforcement would appreciate it if we grew pot in an open space where just anyone could access it.”

  Knight’s eye roll was pronounced. “Pot is legal in Michigan now.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean we can grow it on government property, and the greenhouse is technically government property.”

  “Well, that sucks.” Knight rubbed his forehead, leaving blood behind. There was no doubt about the nature of the wound on his stomach.

  “Did Caitlin do that to you?” I asked. “Is that why you killed her? She went after you first and you lashed out to protect yourself.”

  Knight’s mouth dropped open. “What are you saying? Caitlin’s dead? That can’t be right.”

  My heart did a long, slow roll. “You didn’t know? Where have you been for the past twenty-four hours?”

  “Here. I mean ... I think I was here. I’ve been in and out of it, hiding in the trees so you and your friends can’t finish me off. You think you’re smarter than me, had me cut off a few times, but I outsmarted you. Now I have one of you and you have no choice but to let me go.”

  I was behind. It was a feeling I hated. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, don’t play games with me.” His tone darkened. “I know a monster when I see one.”

  The statement was almost laughable. “Aren’t you a drug dealer?”

  His eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite recognize. Anger was in the mix. Despair might’ve been present, too. “I do what I have to do to survive. If you think I’m proud of my lifestyle, you’re wrong. That doesn’t mean what you did is okay. Caitlin wasn’t doing anything. You killed her.”

  “I didn’t kill her,” I shot back. “I wasn’t even here. I was in Grosse Pointe last night.”

  “I don’t believe you. All your buddies have been camping in the park. I tried to escape, go back to check on Caitlin, but they kept circling. They’re smart, but I’m smarter. There’s a reason I’ve survived this long in a world of people who are bigger and stronger.”

  And there was the final piece of the puzzle. I should’ve put it together faster than I did. Unfortunately, the head wound was working against me. “You think I’m a member of The Hidden Fellowship.”

  He glared at me. “You are.”

  “I’m not.” I wa
s firm. “My name is Izzy Sage. I run the aquarium. I have nothing to do with them.”

  “But ... no.” He shook his head. This time I was certain the emotion rolling off him was despair. “You’re one of them. You have to be. I need to get out of here. You’re my only chance.”

  “I am your only chance,” I agreed, my mind busy. I groaned as I stood, moving toward the window. “How long have we been here?”

  “Hey! I didn’t say you could get up.” He gestured toward the spot on the ground where he’d dumped me. “Go back over there.”

  I ignored him. I didn’t have time to mess around. “How long have we been here?”

  Knight growled. Apparently he’d decided that working with me was a bad idea. That would result in his death if he wasn’t careful. Of course, he couldn’t possibly know that. From his perspective, I was the enemy. He couldn’t afford to think otherwise.

  “Let’s try this again,” I suggested, leaning against the wall and fixing him with a no-nonsense look. “What were you doing out here last night?”

  “Sometimes I just come out here to hang out,” Knight replied finally. He looked resigned. “It’s quiet. I like the sound of the water as it hits the shore. It’s never quiet in the city. You would think it would be because so many people have fled, they don’t feel safe wandering around after dark, but those left behind are loud.”

  “They’re dangerous, too,” I surmised, pursing my lips. He was an enigma. “Did the cult members approach you or did you mess with them first?”

  He balked. “This isn’t my fault.”

  “I’m not saying it is. I’m simply trying to get a picture of who they are. They’re hard to pin down, and their leader, well, he’s a total con artist as far as I can tell. That doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous.”

  “Obviously they’re dangerous,” he said bitterly. “Caitlin is dead.”

  He looked so morose my heart went out to him. “I’m sorry.” I meant it. “I’ll help you make sure she gets a proper burial. You have my word. You need to tell me what happened. I can’t help you if I don’t have a proper picture.”