“Yes.” Andre rubbed his chin. “I’m not surprised no one’s put together the connection. While demons can cross through to our world, as soon as they leave the ley line, they lose their ability to take on solid forms for more than a short while—those incubi are a perfect example of this. Once you wake up, they can only stick around for a few seconds.
“However, at certain gateways the worlds are stacked one on top of another.” Andre demonstrated this with his hands. “Because of this, any form a demon can take in one world they can take in another.”
“Is that a fancy way of saying that a demon can take on a solid form in our world?”
“Exactly.”
***
I scrubbed my face with my hand. “But I still don’t get this whole ley line and Otherworld entrance thing. Are the two terms interchangeable?”
“Yes and no,” Andre said, still pacing the room. Gee, that was helpful.
Seeing my confused expression, Andre backtracked. “Gateways are points along ley lines. They’re like subway stops for those that travel along them. Demons are just one of those travelers.”
My mouth formed the shape of an “O”. The pieces fell into place. The demon traveled along a ley line to get to an entrance, where it waited for a victim to show up. Once they did, the demon solidified, killed its victim, and left along the line.
I scrambled over to my bag and dug out the files I had on the victims.
“What are you doing?” Andre asked from behind me.
His voice rubbed like silk along my skin. “Just checking your theory.”
I pulled out the files and a pen and placed them on the coffee table. I flipped through them, but they didn’t contain what I was looking for.
“Do you have a large map of the island?”
A spark of understanding flared in his eyes. He moved across the room and came back with a folded up map of the Isle of Man.
I opened it up and searched for Glen Maye, the site of the first crime scene. It rested just below Peel and slightly more inland. I placed a dot there. Then my eyes moved over to the east side of the island, where the port city of Douglas was located.
Andre leaned in and pointed to a plot of land labeled Douglas Cemetery, where the second victim was found. I placed another dot there.
I took the spine of one of the files and used it like a ruler to make a straight line between the two points, my representation of a ley line.
Andre reached over my shoulder and touched a point on the map. “That’s where the third body was found.” I followed his finger, and my heart beat loudly. The third crime scene fell perfectly under the line.
Our theory was no longer a theory. The murders were all committed along a ley line.
***
“We have to call the Politia.” Now that we knew who—or rather what—had killed those people, we might be able to prevent more deaths—both human and vampire.
“No,” Andre said, “you have to call the Politia.”
“Why me?”
“They trust you. You work for them.”
“Not at the moment. They suspended me because of the murders.”
“But they know you didn’t commit them.”
He had a point, but I wasn’t convinced they’d trust my opinion over Andre’s. Reluctantly I grabbed the phone from my bag. “Do you get reception in here?” I asked.
Andre gave me a look.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
I dialed the Politia. “Politia Headquarters, this is Anna speaking,” the receptionist said.
“Hi Anna, this is Gabrielle. I have information on the open investigation.”
“Which one?”
Oh, right. There were probably several open investigations. “The vampire one.”
I heard rapid-fire typing on the other end of the line.
“Okay, what information would you like to discuss with the department?”
“I know who the murderer is.”
***
“A freaking appointment? They scheduled me in for a freaking appointment after I told them the information I had?” I squeezed the cellphone in my hands, only loosening my grip once I heard the crack of plastic. I was to meet with an inspector tomorrow after class.
Andre lifted a shoulder as he flipped through the files. “They are a bureaucracy; they are inefficient.”
“I don’t think so.” Anna the receptionist immediately dismissed the information I had as soon as I told her that the perpetrator appeared to be a demon. I knew Andre should’ve called. “What if someone dies tonight?”
“That’s on their heads now.”
“But we could stop a crime from being committed.”
“Where exactly would you like to go? To the Viking burials? The cemetery? Glen Maye? Those areas are sealed off. No one will venture there unless they already have a death wish. And we do not know where any other gateways are on the island.”
I studied Andre, who wore a carefully blank expression. “You do though, don’t you? You must know of the other entrances. You’ve had centuries to find out.”
“Perhaps a bigger concern is why a demon would be allowed to kill,” Andre said, sidestepping my accusation. He was slippery like that. He also knew exactly what to say to veer my thoughts off course.
“A demon must have permission before they kill?” I asked.
“Yes. Underworld killings are always ritualistic and—” Andre paused for effect, “they are always done on behalf of the devil.”
Chapter 17