She gave a shallow snort. “It’s so weird to be talking to someone who doesn’t even get basic tech. I need to give you a crash course in digital living, big guy. It’s an electronic archive, basically. A small device that stores large amounts of data so you can transfer it between locations and devices.” She gazed up at him and lifted an eyebrow. “I wonder what was so important to Mr. Ott that he carried it around with him wherever he went?”
“Take it,” he said, glancing around the space. “I am unsure it will prove to have any significance, as I see nothing to indicate that he was deep in the inner workings of the Order. But no other item appears important to our investigation.”
Kylie looked dubious. “You can tell that just by looking around? Maybe he didn’t like early demonic apocalypse as an interior decorating choice.”
He wondered if he would ever get used to a human who questioned his every word or action simply on general principle. In the past, most of them cowered when they saw him, if they didn’t run screaming in terror. But not this female. She made him want to scream.
“The Darkness is a pollution,” he explained, struggling for patience. “Humans who have close contact with it over long periods of time are altered by it. They begin to carry it around with them like an illness, leaving traces of it behind. The places where they spend the most time are usually heavily contaminated with its stench.”
She wrinkled her nose. “All I can smell is blood and general stink.”
“Exactly. He was not working closely with the Order for long, if at all. He had certainly not participated in any of their darkest rituals. Those actions leave stains that cannot be disguised. Searching him out may yield us nothing we can use.”
“Hey, we had to start somewhere.”
“True, but we are finished here. Come. We should not continue to linger.”
Kylie approached the door, giving the body and the blood pool a wide berth. “What about him, though? We can’t just leave him here and pretend we don’t know anything. He may have a family somewhere, friends who care about him. They deserve to know he’s dead.”
He led her outside, engaging the lock on the knob before pulling the door closed behind him. “This dwelling has other occupants. They will begin to notice the smell soon enough.”
“Ew. It’s still winter. That could take days. Besides, that’s just wrong.” She shook her head. “I’ll send the police an anonymous tip when we get home. I can send an e-mail they won’t be able to trace back to me. It’s the least I can do.”
The alley beside the house and the street out front were deserted as they walked back to the vehicle, for which Dag felt grateful. He hated when his work caught the attention of humans, especially ones who believed they had some sort of authority over him. They had no grasp of what he fought against, and never possessed the necessary training or skill to defend themselves, let alone to face what he and his brothers had been summoned to face.
Kylie’s words stayed with him as he folded and crammed himself back into the passenger seat of her torturously small automobile. “Why do you say that? The least anyone can ever do is nothing. To do anything beyond is therefore not the least.”
“It’s an expression, Gol—er, Dag,” she said as she engaged the motor and maneuvered away from the curb. “And it’s true. Human beings should treat each other with respect and decency. Which means that if I know of someone who has died and needs to be returned to his family for a proper burial, then I make sure he gets found. It may not be the least that it’s possible to do, but it’s the least I can possibly do.”
Her solemn expression and the firm set of her jaw gave evidence that she felt strongly about her words. Dag found that both surprising and fascinating. Through his long centuries of existence, he had dealt most often with only two types of humans, Wardens and nocturnis. The first fought evil and protected their fellow man as a sworn duty, not out of deep feelings for them, and the second quested endlessly for dark power, uncaring of who or what they destroyed in their endless and insatiable search. To encounter one who did right because it was right counted as a novel experience and made the small female even more interesting to him.
He would need to take care, he realized as they made their way back to Boston, not to let his fascination with the human get out of control. While his brothers might be willing to accept the risk inherent in taking to mate a female Warden who must stand with them to face the latest nocturni threat, to Dag the danger was simply too great. He had lived a thousand years with his duty as his sole companion; he could live a thousand more without giving in to the weakness of emotions. It would be better that way.
For everyone.
Chapter Six
“Odem yesoydoy meyofor vesoyfo leyofor,” beyne leveyne iz gut a trunk bronfn.
“Man begins in dust and ends in dust,” meanwhile it’s good to drink some vodka.