Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I was still trying to take the news in an hour later, after Seton and Dr. Lara left. Dr. Anthony had given me a potion to help my headache—which it did—and he had set up a time next week for me to meet with him to discuss my clan and to see if we could figure out what powers were starting to wake.

By noon, my headache was gone and I had managed breakfast and coffee, and was ready to head to work. I had a million questions, but until the next week, they wouldn’t be answered, so I pushed them to the side for now.

Penn suggested that she could clear out the guest room so she could bring her bedroom furniture in the next day.

“I closed the shop for the weekend, since I’ll be moving. When you called this morning, I decided I might as well make it a three-day holiday.” She rinsed off the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great plan. I’ll be busy till late—I probably won’t be home until around nine or ten. Can you feed the cats their supper so I don’t have to run home to do so?”

“Sounds good enough to me,” she said. “Do you have a space down here where I can put my desk? I don’t know if it will fit in the family room with my living room furniture.”

I thought for a moment. While my house was mostly on one level and Penn would be taking one of the three bedrooms as her own, the spare room was mainly used as a storage unit. I used the second bedroom as a workout room, and the den for my own office.

“Why don’t we clear out my storage room and you can have that for your office—or you can have the bedroom as your office and the spare room as your bedroom. Whichever configuration you like. You ought to get more than one room for seven-hundred a month plus utilities.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah. I can buy a shed for the back yard to put my storage boxes in. And anything else you’d like easy access to, but don’t want to keep in your room or office. Until we get the shed, we can move those boxes to the garage so you can bring your desk in tomorrow.” I glanced at the clock. “Okay, I’m good to drive, so I’m heading to work.”

“I’ll see you later—I’ll probably go home this afternoon and pack some more. I’ll come back to feed the cats, and bring a few of my things over in my car. The things I don’t want to risk breaking.” She waved as I headed out the door.

By the time I arrived at the office, it was a few minutes past noon. I asked Sophia to call a meeting in the breakroom, so people could eat while we talked.

“Glad to see you hear,” Dante said, passing me in the hall. “Feeling better?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’ll tell you about it at the meeting.”

When we were gathered in the breakroom, I told them what had happened.

“Apparently, my demon side is making itself known. I also learned what kind of demon I am. I never thought to check with any sort of demonologist before, and I figured that witches wouldn’t be able to tell.” I sighed. “I’d like for someone to do some research on my clan, as much as you can find out, so that I know what I’m dealing with.”

“I’ll do it,” Sophia said. “I’ve got time.” She paused as her phone rang. “I’ll take this over there.”

As she moved over to the side, Orik asked, “What’s the name of your Demonkin clan?”

“The Arosien Clan. I know nothing about them. Nothing about my father. I don’t even know if my mother knew what clan he was from. All she ever told me was that he bedded her one night and then vanished. I have no idea if that’s the truth, or if she lied.” I stared at the table, pensive. It was starting to hit me that if I didn’t like what she found out, then what was I going to do? But I needed to know, especially since my powers were starting to rise.

“All right,” Dante said. “What next?”

“Well, Lazenti is coming tonight—” he paused as Sophia returned.

“We have a problem. That was Tana from the Supe Community Action Council. There’s been another attack at the building, but this time there are injuries. It just happened. The police are on their way, but Tana asked that we come over, too.” She opened her laptop and brought up the local news. Sure enough, there was a video of breaking news.

The reporter, Mindy Shandel, was standing in front of the building. Smoke was pouring out from a shattered window, and I recognized Tana, standing near a police officer, tears running down her face.

“We’re here with Tana Weathers, the director of the Supe Community Action Council. Ms. Weathers, you’ve had issues before with attacks on your organization, haven’t you?” Mindy’s voice was a little too perky for my taste, especially given the subject.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Tana said. “We’re working with investigators to find those responsible. Hate crimes are on the rise, and we’re not about to let those responsible drive us out. The SCAC stands for unity in the Supe Community, it stands for friendship and helping those in need, regardless of their nature. We won’t let hatred and bigotry derail our purpose.”

Mindy turned back to the camera. “Unfortunately, the attack today has resulted in at least three injuries. Names of the injured are being withheld until families can be notified. The police have no leads yet, but they are active on the case.”

She turned back to a police officer who abruptly asked her to step back, and then the news continued, moving on to other events.

“We’d better get over there,” I said. “Sophia, can you call Destiny and ask her if she could meet us there? We need to talk to the cops and she’s the best go-between we have.” I turned to Dante. “You and Orik, come with me. The rest of you wait here and do whatever needs done.”

“You feel up to it?” Dante asked.

I nodded. “I’m fine. Whatever the doctor gave me worked wonders.” I slipped my jacket on, grabbed my purse, and motioned for Dante and Orik to follow me. Within five minutes, we were on the way.

The streets were busy, and as we approached the SCAC, we had to pull over and park. About a half block all around the center was cordoned off. There were cops everywhere. This must have been worse than I thought.

I walked over to one of the officers whom I vaguely remembered and, waiting until she looked at me. “I don’t know if you remember me, but…”

She glanced at me for a moment, then said, “Oh, yes. You’re…Kyann, right?”

“Yes, Kyann Sarasan. I run Shadow Blade Investigations. We started working on investigating the attacks on the SCAC. Is there a chance we can talk to Tana? If we can see the damage done, as well, it would help.” I didn’t expect to be given free rein while the cops were in the middle of their investigation, but it was worth the try.

“I can’t let you go in yet, but I’ll have one of my officers bring Tana out so you can talk to her. Wait here, please.”

She headed off, motioning to one of her officers. After speaking in low tones to him, he vanished around the corner. A few minutes later, he returned, Tana by his side.

She looked a far cry from what she had looked like the last time we saw her. What had been a nice suit was covered with soot, and parts of it were ripped. Her face was smudged and there was a trickle of blood dripping down the side of her face from a cut near her temple.

“Are you all right? Should you talk to the medics?” I scanned her from head to toe.

Tana shrugged. “I can wait a few minutes. They’re checking out my secretary right now. She caught the worst of the blast.” She looked ready to cry and her demeanor slid. “I want these motherfuckers caught. Candy’s in critical condition.”

The pain in her voice was palpable. I gently led her over to a nearby bench to sit down. She gave me a helpless look.

“I can’t fight this—I’m not sure what to do. Should we close the SCAC? I can’t put people in danger, no matter how much I want to fight for this organization.” She burst into tears. Even though she was strong and had been through hell in her life, I could tell that the fear of her people being hurt was taking a toll on her.

“What was the name of that organization again? The one sending you the hate messages?” I asked.

“The Society For Pure Blood Humanity & Decency,” she said, wiping away a drop of blood that landed on her lip from the cuts on her forehead. “I never dreamed they’d take it this far. I thought they were all talk, but then the vandalism happened the other day. Now, I’m not sure what to think. How could they go from hate pamphlets to this in such a short time?”

“We’ll do our best to find out.” I thought for a moment. “Have you received any other threats lately? Anything that seems out of the ordinary?”

Tana frowned. “I don’t think so. Nothing in my personal life. I think this about the organization.”

“All right. Anything else? Any disgruntled clientele show up lately?”

Tana took another moment, then stiffened. “ One. It could be him, I suppose. I didn’t even think about him. Kelvin’s not in great shape. He’s an old wolf shifter who went rogue. We couldn’t help him much, and he already has mental health issues. Being excommunicated from his Pack did a number on his already fragile grasp on reality.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He was in the Persian Gulf war. He lost his brother Roddy. Kelvin was there when Roddy stepped on a land mine. He died before he hit the ground. Roddy joined the Army because he worshiped his older brother. So, Kelvin blames himself for Roddy’s death, and so do his parents. He fell into heavy drug use—claramondin, which is a shifter-specific drug. Worse than crack or meth. We tried to help him wean off it, but he went too fast and the withdrawal symptoms eroded what fragile grasp on reality that he had.” She shrugged.

“Did he ever threaten you?” I scribbled down his name. “And what’s his last name?”

“Creston. And…well…he did once but I didn’t take him seriously. When he was kicked out of the halfway house because he was threatening some of the other group home members. We couldn’t help him, so he was out on the streets again. We didn’t have the money to put him up in a hotel for more than a day or two.”

“When was this?”

“A couple weeks ago.” She winced and rubbed her head. “Maybe I should see the medics. I feel woozy.”

“One last question,” I said. “Where does Kelvin stay?”

She carefully stood, weaving a little. “He lives in the homeless encampment down by the docks. He’s got salt and pepper hair, long and braided. He’s about five-eight, walks with a limp, and dresses in desert camo.”

“I’ll find him, if only to rule him out.” I motioned to the cop. “She should see the medic now.”

I headed back to Orik and Dante. “Come on, we’re off to the docks.”

As we headed away from the damaged building, I heard a cry from behind us. I turned to see Tana weeping as the medics led her over to the rescue unit. At the same time, I saw body on a gurney, and the medics were drawing a sheet over the woman’s head. Right then, I knew that Candy was dead.

Camp Wanderment—one of the homeless encampments—moved around a lot. Whenever the nearby businesses got tired of them and argued with the city council enough to get them kicked out of the area, they’d pick up and move on. But nobody wanted to deal with the real issues—how to help people who were beyond helping themselves.

Oh, some escaped back into a typical life, but most who stayed under the radar too long never made it back. And most of them didn’t end up there because of anything they did. Fate could turn the tables on anybody, at anytime.

There were a number of homeless camps around the area and too many people had to visit the food banks and pantries every month. At least the donations continued to pour in to fill the gaps where the government help couldn’t reach. Several of the camps lived near overpasses, or on the side of the road near the freeway exits where they could spread out a little, but Camp Wanderment was down by the docks, near the industrial area.

I turned to Dante as we headed to the car. “I want whoever did this. Tana’s terrified, and her secretary is dead. We can’t let them shut down the SCAC. The organization helps too many people.”

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Potential lead. Yes, the hate group might be responsible, but my feeling is that they’re afraid of following up on the threats they make. She mentioned someone who’s got a big grudge, and whose mental faculties are seriously impaired.” As we belted ourselves into the car, I told them about Kelvin. “I have a feeling he might actually be our man.”

“Do you think that the hate group is clean?”

“Not clean, no…but she made a point. They’ve been attacking the center—verbally and with protests—for several years now. Why the sudden change?”

“Hmm,” Orik said. “It usually takes a trigger for a person or group to switch from simple harassment to outright murder. And not all people or groups will respond when the switch goes live.” He pulled out his tablet and began searching. “I want to check something.”

The drive down to the docks wasn’t all that far, but finding the right dock took awhile. For one thing, the camp wasn’t located near the actual piers, but rather—a distance from there, in a small marina that was tucked out of the way. The marina was lightly used, and as long as the boats—mostly small fishing boats—were left alone, so far, the owners hadn’t complained.

“Okay,” Orik said. “The Society for Pure Blood Humanity & Human Decency has been around for at least ten years. They’ve protested—peacefully, passed out pamphlets, sent numerous rude and hateful messages to various organizations and people, but not once do I see a case where their anger and prejudice jumped the line into action.”

“Not once? Are you sure?” Dante asked.

“I’m sure,” Orik said. “The only court cases they’ve had against them are for slander, libel, and graffiti tagging. I think you’re right. I don’t think they did this.” He paused, then said, “I read a newsclip about them. They declined to take credit for the bombing—apparently that’s what happened. And Destiny told me that the bomb was a small homemade, crude pipe bomb and looks to be the work of an amateur.”

“An amateur…or maybe somebody who learned how to make incendiary devices while in the military? While you’re looking up things, see what you can find on Kelvin Creston. He’s our potential target.”

We were coming up to the encampment, so I began looking for a place to park. “Got anything?”

“More than we have time for. He was in the special Army Ops when he was enlisted, and received several commendations before he lost it and was discharged,” Orik said.

“He was discharged? I didn’t know if he’d gotten out of the Army before he broke down.”

Orik was silent for a moment as I parked.

I turned off the engine and glanced at him. “Well, anything else?”

“Yeah, he spent two years in an institute for the criminally insane when he tried to murder his old sergeant. He blamed him for his brother’s death, according to the story,” Orik said.

“I thought he blamed himself?”

Dante spoke up. “Ten to one, he projected that blame onto his sergeant to alleviate his own guilt?—”

“I suppose,” I said, glancing around as the rain began.

The encampment was heartbreaking.

Tents spread out on the pavement and gravel across the empty lot. Everywhere, awnings made from tarps and yard waste bags provided makeshift protection from the rain. The smell was like unwashed laundry that had been sitting out for several weeks. On one end, someone had either rented or stolen a couple portable toilets.

But the hardest thing was the sound of children crying…and some playing…in the lot full of temporary shelters. Children who should be living in an apartment or a house, children who should be in school or playing in a park. Families who should be offered a hand up, who needed jobs and healthcare, all just trying to eke out survival.

Counting my blessings, and wishing I could help, I looked around. From first sight, I saw several older men who could be Kelvin, but at closer look, they weren’t.

“We should ask someone,” Dante said. It was then that I realized he was dressed sedately—foregoing his usual flamboyance for an inconspicuous leather jacket and jeans. It warmed my heart that he wasn’t going to flaunt himself around people who were struggling to find a morsel of food.

“There,” I said, pointing to an older lady who was sitting in a folding yard chair beneath one of the tarp awnings. “Let’s ask her.”

As we headed toward her, I noticed Dante was folding up a twenty. When we reached her side, he walked over and knelt so she wouldn’t have to stand.

“Ma’am, we’re wondering if you can tell us whether you know someone supposed to be living in this encampment?” he asked.

“That depends,” she said, her gaze running over us. “You the cops?”

“No, ma’am,” Dante said. He held out a picture of Kelvin on his phone. “We’re looking for Kelvin, a wolf shifter. We were told he might be here.”

She squinted at the phone, then slowly nodded. “I know him. He’s over there, toward that green tent.” She coughed, adjusting the scarf around her neck.

“Thank you,” Dante said, quietly handing her the twenty.

She looked at it, then shook her head. “That blond over there with three kids? She needs this more than I do.”

As I looked at her ragged shoes and the too-thin coat, I quietly pulled out another twenty and, as Dante walked over to hand the young mother the money, I reached down and tucked my money into the older lady’s hand.

“You’re a good person,” I said. “You deserve this.” I wanted to add something like ‘take care’ or ‘be careful’ but it sounded lame.

As though she understood, she touched my hand. “Life has a way of doing as it will,” she said. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. I can sense you’re searching for something.”

“Thank you,” I said. Feeling like I’d just talked to Sophia when she was into her visions, I nodded and then, with Orik and Dante by my side, headed over to the green tent.