Chapter Three
Reya rolled over in bed and checked the clock. 6 a.m. Too frickin’ early. She pulled the covers over her head.
“Time to rise,” Orson said.
She shot up in bed. “What the hell, Orson?”
He was sitting in a chair in the dark, six feet from her bed, fully dressed and pressed. He always looked the same. “Are you rested?”
“I’ll never sleep again,” she muttered, and threw off the blankets. Damn, it was still dark out. “You better have a live one for me.”
“You shouldn’t have talked to Louis,” he said simply.
She eyed him. He knew about that. Of course, he would. And he was right. It had been an impulse move. She really just wanted to scare the kid. She’d seen the breach of light in his soul, heard the beat of his good heart beneath the layers of anger and hate. It reminded her of the one she used to have. “You keep telling me that I should use my powers for good, not evil. So I did.”
“He’s alive to tell others of your existence, of your abilities,” Orson said.
She stood up to stretch her long body. It was a good body as far as bodies went, but it still required more maintenance than she cared for. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need it forever.
“Who’s going to believe him?”
“Someone believed him, and now we have a small problem,” Orson said, and laid his hands over the notebook on his lap.
She looked at him. “This whole city is a problem.”
He ignored her point. “You have been targeted by the local authorities.”
Again? “You give me the missions. It’s not my fault if I get caught.”
Orson smiled knowingly.
“What?” she said. “You set up the logistics, not me.”
“But you smile at the camera,” he pointed out. “And you interfere with souls you shouldn’t. Like Louis.”
Okay, maybe she broke the rules once in a while. That’s because she had so damn many of them. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll never find me.”
“That’s not the issue,” he said.
She waved him off. “Whatever. Just deal with them like you always do.”
He shook his head. “Not this time. This time is different.”
Fine, he had her attention. Reya walked to her closet to get out her clothes for the day. “Why is that?”
“The man who is looking for you can hear us,” he said.
She blinked a few times before turning to him. “Not possible.”
Orson smiled slowly. “He is a legacy.”
Legacy? Reya shook her head. Legacies were history. “No. We haven’t had a legacy in thirty years. They were all killed by Surt when he went on his rampage.”
“Only the good ones,” Orson said.
Maybe it was because of the early hour, but it took her a moment to process what he was saying. “I thought you said this guy was law enforcement? Aren’t those the good guys?”
“Not always,” Orson replied. “Sometimes, they change.”
Why did these things happen to her? “What? So I have a bad cop after me?”
Orson said carefully, “He’s on the edge.”
Great. Gray area. Black and white was so much more convenient. “I don’t care if he’s a legacy, he still won’t find me.”
“Yes, he will,” Orson persisted. “He can hear us now. Eventually, his other powers will manifest. He’ll be able to communicate and interact with the other dimensions.”
She hated when Orson said stuff like that. Because nine times out of ten, he was right. She shrugged and tossed her heavy short staff on the bed. “We’ll move on then.”
Orson frowned deeply when he saw it. “You don’t need that weapon.”
He disapproved of the trinket she’d brought with her from the dark side, but she liked the protection. “Yes, I do. I’ve seen how the dark side operates, remember?”
“You are strong enough to fight them without it,” Orson said.
Right. “Where are we off to next? I hear L.A. has lots of bad people.”
“We can’t move,” Orson said. “There is much work to be done here.”
She threw up her hands in defeat. “Then what do you want from me?”
He got to his feet and clasped the notebook in his hands. “I can’t tell you exactly how to diffuse the situation, but I’m sure you’ll handle it quietly.”
Handle it quietly? Since when had she ever managed to do that?
“Until then,” he added. “No new cases.”
That did it. She confronted him before he had a chance to vanish. “You can’t do that to me, Orson. We had a deal.”
He shook his head. “This jeopardizes our deal. You need to convince him that you are not involved in the deaths of our recently departed.”
Oh, for crying out loud. “And how exactly would I go about doing that? Tell them I’m a dead soul come back to life? Tell them I have to earn my way back into Heaven? What?”
“Whatever it takes,” he said. “Whatever he’ll believe.”
“And what if he doesn’t?” she asked, her hands on her hips. “How do I fulfill my redemption requirement?”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine. And remember, he cannot know his future fate.” And then he faded away, leaving her gaping at the space he’d occupied.
She rubbed her forehead. This was bad. Worse than bad. She had only one chance to make things right, and she’d be damned if some nosy cop was going to ruin it for her.
“I need a name,” she yelled at the bedroom ceiling.
Then she noticed a small scrap of paper had appeared on the chair where Orson had sat. Or maybe he’d left it behind, she didn’t know.
She walked over and picked it up. It read “Thane Driscoll.”
* * *
“Hey Driscoll, you need to see this,” Pampinella, the officer in charge said.
While Martin was parking the car, Thane ducked under the yellow tape that wound around the crime scene. It was 2 p.m. when the call came in that a fresh victim had turned up in SoHo.
Red and blue lights shot across the buildings that blanketed the corner where the man had been found—burned to a crisp for no apparent reason or method.
The body was black and frozen in a silent scream. Thane nodded to the forensic guy who was taking photos of the body and the crime scene. It was all contained in a small area.
Thane asked Pampinella, “What happened to him?”
“According to witnesses, he was walking down the street and just burst into flames,” he said, and shook his head. “But I’ll be damned if I can figure out how. There’s no reports of an accelerant or source. I mean, people saw fire consume his entire body in a matter of seconds, but no one can explain how. That’s why you’re here.”
Thane knelt next to the victim. He was unrecognizable. The only thing that was evident was the terror in his facial features and his body language. “Could it have been a flame thrower?”
“No one saw any weapons of any kind,” Pampinella replied. “No explosion. And don’t even go for spontaneous combustion. I ain’t puttin’ that in the report.”
“Maybe the autopsy will shed some light,” Thane told him.
“Good luck,” Pampinella muttered.
Thane stood up. “Do we have an ID on him yet?”
He nodded. “He was identified by a local as Billy Johns. Said he was a nice man. He’s clean. The guy didn’t even have a parking ticket.”
So much for his theory that his mystery woman was hitting up the baddies. Or maybe this wasn’t her. And if it wasn’t her, then who was it? Who had the power to torch a human being?
Thane scanned the street. What was going on? Bad guys were dying in freakish ways. Good guys were dying in freakish ways. His entire city was going straight to Hell.
* * *
From her vantage point on the building roof, Reya watched Thane Driscoll shake the hand of the uniformed officer. He was not what she had expected. He was around thirty-five years old and moved well, like a man who could handle himself in a fight. Dark jeans hugged his hips, and a leather jacket stretched across a broad back. His hair was brown, and his intensity fascinating. And from here, he was pretty damn good-looking. This might not be so bad after all.
He turned and talked to another man who approached. They knew each other well. This one was settled, married, probably had kids, and was not happy with the current situation. She watched the men interact, and noted the concern on Thane’s face. It surprised her based on the reading of his sins she’d done. Then she noticed the ghost of the victim standing mere feet away from his former body, unseen by human eyes. His soul was pure and white. There was no reason he should be dead. It wasn’t his time.
Something was very wrong here. A good man had died—burned alive. That didn’t happen every day. On the other hand, did she care? It was only a vessel for the soul to experience with. He could always come back if he wanted to—new life, new body.
Still, it irked her that someone had taken him out of the game early. It didn’t feel right, and that part worried her. Because when she felt this way and ignored it, it always came back to bite her in the ass.
That settled it.
“Orson, need you,” she said aloud to the sky.
Nothing. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I know you can hear me.”
She sighed. He wasn’t going to show up. He wasn’t kidding when he told her she had to handle this herself. Boy, was he going to be sorry.
She walked to the edge of the rooftop where no one could see her and dropped the three stories into the alleyway below, sticking a perfect two-point landing. There was something to be said for having a few superhuman skills.
Reya headed toward the dead man’s soul, now hanging in the shadows of a storefront. She skirted cop cars and uniforms and ducked into the alcove next to him.
The dead man looked at her in utter confusion. He’d definitely been taken before his time. Every soul had a clock on them. She couldn’t explain it, but she could see it.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He looked dazed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t feel my feet. Am I dead?”
She shouldn’t get involved. This wasn’t her area of expertise. But it didn’t look like he was going anywhere anytime soon without help. “I’m afraid so. It’s okay though. No one can hurt you now. Do you know who did this to you?”
“I don’t remember,” he said, sounding lost. “I didn’t see anyone.”
That didn’t sound good. “No one?”
He blinked a few times, and then frowned. “Wait, there was someone. I could hear him whispering.”
Reya inhaled a little. “Do you know what he was saying?”
He shook his head. “No, I never can.”
Wait, what? “You’ve heard the whispers before?”
“All the time,” he told her. “No one believes me.”
She smiled a little. “Well, I do. When did you start hearing them?”
“A few years ago.” He cocked his head. “You hear them, too?”
I am them. “Yes.”
There was a flutter of activity in front of them, and a spirit escort appeared in a blinding burst of glory. He stepped toward the deceased.
Great. The almighty, heavenly cavalry.
He eyed Reya, recognizing her status, or lack thereof. “I’ll take him from here.”
She wanted to tell him that this man could hear the whispers of the dead and somehow that’s why he was killed, but the spirit escort wouldn’t care. He had one job to do, and he followed orders. She didn’t. And that’s why he was scowling.
Reya turned and said to the recently deceased, “This…gentleman will escort you to a new home.”
He blinked back at her uneasily. “But I like it here.”
Reya saw the escort move toward them. She needed to convince the dead man to go willingly. Otherwise, the transition could be long and difficult. “There’s a much better place waiting for you. A place with sunshine and light. A home where nothing bad can ever happen to you. All love, no pain. I promise.”
The dead man glanced from her to the escort and back. “Okay.”
Reya handed him over, and in a flash, they were gone.
That’s when she noticed Thane heading in her direction, his gaze pinning her in place. Time to shake him off her trail so she could get back to saving her eternal soul. For a fleeting moment, she thought she’d met him before. It was just a shadow of a vision, like a dream. No. They’d never met. She would have remembered. Besides, she had bigger worries, like his state of humanity.
He flashed a badge at her, and then stopped in front of her. “Detective Thane Driscoll. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
His voice was deep and rough. His hair was a little long in the front, and his eyes were pale blue. Normally, that would be a great package, but his stern expression kind of negated it. Reya smiled her brightest and most angelic smile. “Of course, Detective.”
He pulled out his phone and punched the screen a few times. “Your name please.”
“Reya. Reya Sinclair.” She studied his aura as she replied. It was changing, light and dark taking turns. “What happened here?”
“I’ll ask the questions,” he said. “Phone number.”
She smiled. “Are you going to ask me for a date?”
“No,” he said, a bit quickly. His energy flashed darker for a moment. It’s not that she hadn’t seen dark energy. But his didn’t seem to know what it wanted to be. It was like a battle raged for his soul. He was a good man, but he’d done some bad things.
She gave him a fake cell phone number and a fake address and told him she was unemployed. Once he had it, he said, “I’d like you to come down to the precinct.”
Reya considered that for a few seconds. Naw. “Am I a suspect?”
Thane’s eyes met hers. They were direct and intense. She’d bet he could intimidate a lot of people with that gaze. But she wasn’t just anyone. One cop couldn’t scare her. She’d seen Hell.
“It’s just an interview,” he said.
She crossed her arms. “Then interview me here.”
“There’s some video we’d like to show you.”
Ah, the evidence. That’s what this was about. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
His eyebrows lifted. “That was a leap.”
“I know about the surveillance recordings,” she said. “I know about the deaths, but I didn’t kill them. They were going to die anyway.”
His entire demeanor changed in a flash. A sudden wave of anger from him swept out over her then. Righteousness was a dangerous thing. It made people believe they were judge and jury.
“You admit you were there,” he said tightly. “You may even have seen them die.”
“Perhaps,” she said.
“And you did nothing to stop it,” he added, his voice growing deeper and more angry.
“Technically, it’s not my job to save them,” she said.
“Really? Then what is your job?” he asked.
If he only knew. She decided then that she’d given him more than enough to think about. “To warn them.”
“Of what? Their impending death?” he asked, clearly disgusted.
“Yes.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I know when people are going to die. Does that surprise you?”
He looked at her like she was crazy. “Did you know the victims?” he asked, skirting her question.
“Only briefly.”
“Right before they died,” he added.
“Yes.”
“What about this guy?” he said, sweeping his hand to the crime scene behind them.
“No, I never met him,” she said truthfully.
“Then why are you here?”
He was smart. “I wasn’t following him. I was following you.”
“Why?” Thane asked guardedly.
To get you off my back. “I knew you were looking for me.”
“How would you know that?” he asked.
She grinned. “I have connections. Are we done?”
“No,” he said firmly. “I want you to come with me.”
She sidestepped his grab for her arm. “You have no evidence that I was involved.”
“I’ll find it,” he said, darkness flowing around him.
There it was. “Even if you fabricate it?”
He blinked, and she felt him withdraw slightly. “We don’t do that.”
“You do,” she said. He’d done far worse than that. Then she nodded her head toward the crime scene. “I think your partner wants to talk to you.”
He turned his head to look behind him, and she vanished.
* * *
Martin was looking at him like he was certifiable. And Martin might be right. “You talked to her.”
Thane took a swig of his beer and set the bottle back down on the bar. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you bring her in?” Martin asked. His beer was getting warm on the bar. That was a bad sign.
“I tried,” Thane said, and motioned to the bartender for another cold one. “And she disappeared, like literally.”
Martin shook his head. “No way. I know you’re better than that. You don’t lose suspects.”
Thane polished off his beer. “She was right in front of me, and then she was gone.” Jesus, he sounded crazy to himself.
Martin leaned closer so that the rest of the happy hour crowd couldn’t hear them. Not that anyone would believe them anyway. “So, she like became invisible?”
Telling Martin was a mistake. But he knew what he saw, and more than that, he knew what he felt when she passed through him. Like he was on fire. Just as Louis had described it. Now he had to decide whether they were both crazy. “I’m just telling you what I saw.”
His partner took a drink of his beer, set it down on the bar, and said, “I know you’ve been through a lot. Losing your dad young. Moving your mom into the nursing home. The Internal Affairs investigation.”
Thane eyed him. “What are you getting at?”
Martin shrugged and stared at his beer. “Maybe you should talk to a professional.”
Christ. “I’m not crazy, Martin. I know crazy.”
“That may be true, but frankly, this is a bit worrisome to your partner,” Martin said. He laughed, but he sounded a little unsure doing it.
Thane nodded as the bartender took the empty and gave him a fresh beer. “Can we just concentrate on what she said?”
“Okay,” Martin said and took a deep breath. “What did she say?”
“She said she didn’t kill anyone. She knows when people are going to die. She shows up to warn them, but she doesn’t stop their deaths because it’s not her job. And she didn’t do the latest victim.”
“Wow.” Martin grimaced and took a long slug of beer. “And you believe an invisible woman?”
It was bad when his own partner flinched. “No, I don’t believe her, but we have nothing on her. The phone number and address she gave me was fake. The name is fake. It’s like she doesn’t exist.”
“Except on the tapes and talking to you,” Martin said.
Thane cut him a look. “I did talk to her.”
Martin held up his hands. “I believe you. Really. But just for shits and giggles, let’s say she’s really not involved.”
“Hell.” He was going to need more beer.
Martin ignored him. “If she’s not killing them, who is?”
“I couldn’t begin to guess.”
“So that leaves us”—Martin raised his hands—“exactly where we started. Freak accidents.”
Except for the whispers. “But now we have a real case. Our guy didn’t torch himself.”
Martin shrugged. “Depends what the coroner says. If it’s inconclusive, we got nothing.”
Thane stared at the condensation dripping down the brown beer bottle. They had to catch a break sooner or later. The whispers were getting louder, especially when he talked to her. He’d heard them on the tapes, but now he was beginning to notice that they were everywhere. She was the key in more ways than one. And damn it, he wasn’t crazy.
“So what next?” Martin asked, sidelining his thoughts.
“We wait for the coroner’s report,” Thane said.
“Works for me. Then we can go to O’Brien with some concrete evidence. He’ll like that for a change.” Martin stood up.
Thane said, “Speaking of O’Brien. Let’s keep this conversation between us for now.”
Martin threw a twenty on the bar. “You kidding? I’m not saying a word to anyone. I like my paycheck. You leaving soon?”
“In a bit,” Thane responded. He wasn’t the least bit tired.
Martin hesitated, and Thane looked over at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” Martin said, and slapped him on the shoulder. “Say hi to your mom for me.”
* * *
Reya followed him home from the bar. He didn’t take a cab, even though he’d already walked at least ten blocks today. He was a big man, and no one bothered him. Long shadows lined the streets. Nonstop vehicle and pedestrian traffic hid her from his sight, but she was staying invisible regardless. After all, he was a legacy and she didn’t know how much of his powers he had yet. Although, if he had them, he’d have used them by now.
What a waste of a legacy. They were supposed to be the chosen few, the ones who could balance the darkness and the light. They lived in this world, but they could manipulate vibration, essentially controlling higher and lower frequencies of light and dark respectively. They were here to bring hope to the world, to show the way.
Instead, Thane would use whatever abilities he developed to exact justice, and in the great cosmic game, that was a big no-no. Granted, she hated rules as much as the next half-human, but this was different. This would damn him for a very long time. She’d been there, done that, and was living to regret it. Given his past actions, he was doomed to failure.
He might be a lousy legacy, but he was a good investigator. She wasn’t going to shake him so easily. He’d already checked out the name, phone number, and address she’d given him. How was she going to convince him that she wasn’t involved, and how could she make him understand that she was not his next target of vigilante justice?
She knew of only one way. He had to see it for himself. And getting clearance from the tower to allow that was going to be the challenge of a lifetime.
As Thane stood waiting for traffic to clear, she heard a voice next to her. “Thane Driscoll, I presume?”
Just the person she was looking for. Reya nodded and didn’t look at Orson. “Tenacious little dirty cop.”
“He’s not dirty. Just misguided,” Orson corrected.
Whatever. “The only way I convince him that I’m not a murderer is to bring him along on a job.”
Orson said, “Absolutely not.”
She did look at him then. He was neatly dressed as always. Too bad she was the only one who could see or hear him. “Make an exception, Orson. Just this once. I don’t want to start over. I don’t have time. Please.”
Orson sighed, and the traffic cleared. Thane crossed the street and headed into the heart of Gramercy Park.
“Please,” she repeated, with feeling. She was not above groveling when it came to saving her eternal soul. “He’s a legacy anyway. He knows more than most.”
“He may not know that he does,” Orson said, looking deeply concerned.
“Well, he will. It’s his destiny.” She gave him an impatient look. “I’m begging you.”
Orson pursed his lips and handed her a piece of paper. “Just once. But he can’t know who he really is or what you are really doing or why—”
“I know, thanks.” She snatched the paper before he changed his mind.
“Do you—” he said, starting the litany of terms.
“Yes!” she shouted back.
Reya hurried to catch up with the detective’s long strides, shedding her invisibility. It was quieter here, the sidewalks wider and less traveled. When she was about twenty feet behind him, he suddenly spun around to face her. This time, he had his gun out.
She slowed but kept walking toward him. “A little touchy, are we?”
He didn’t holster the gun as he walked toward her. “Now you’re coming with me.”
Reya glanced at the weapon. It wouldn’t hurt her, but she didn’t want him shooting someone else by mistake. “We could do that. We could talk for hours on end, which would be a monumental waste of time for both of us. Or you could come with me and watch me work.”
Thane slowed and narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Saving souls, remember? You can find out the truth,” she said. “If that’s what you really want.”
He stopped a short distance away, looking skeptical. “And you won’t disappear.”
Not until after. “You have my word.”
“For what that’s worth,” she heard him mutter. But he holstered the weapon. “Is your first name even Reya?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
“Right,” he said darkly. “Lead the way.”