Chapter 4

Four

A couple of weeks later…

Otay Mountain Wilderness, San Diego County

Awall of dust was all Esau Rodriguez saw in the SUV's rearview, the caboose of their little train moving along the mountain trail. Two more identical big, black SUVs drove ahead of him, filled with his team of examiners, a pathologist, and crime scene analysts and their equipment. He gripped the steering wheel tight. From the call he'd gotten, he had a feeling he knew what they were walking into, and he didn't like it one bit.

After a twist in the dirt road through the hills, they came upon a sea of blue and red flashing lights a half-mile ahead. He pulled in beside his team's vehicles and exited into the afternoon heat. The sun beat down on him, the dust in the air filling his lungs.

It was normally cooler there in the mountains than down in the city. The entire county was experiencing an early December heat wave which wasn't going to make processing the scene any easier. Twenty degrees above norm, they'd bake in the heat as the bodies broiled.

What I wouldn't do for a little snow and cold right about now.

Snow and cold was a biblical rarity in San Diego. In the surrounding mountains, it snowed, sure, but Otay's elevation wasn't quite that high. He ambled closer to his team, surveying them as they prepared their gear in near silence. They were all mentally preparing for the gory scene that had been briefly explained on the call. He grabbed one of the larger cases, dragging it from the back. "From what they told me, there are multiple bodies. They're unable to confirm the count, so we need to be extra careful as we process the scene."

"Hopefully they haven't destroyed anything. There's a herd over there," Lyla, one of his techs, mentioned.

"Gory scenes always bring a crowd," Dave, their pathologist, added. "The gorier, the bigger the audience."

"Yeah, and that means more feet and fingers to get into shit they shouldn't be in," his crime scene manager, Constance, said as she hauled another case down from the back of the SUV. Fred and Bob, their final two team members, pulled out more equipment.

He eyed their new intern, Tomas, a recent graduate. He'd only witnessed two scenes while with them, and nothing like what they were about to walk into. "You ready?"

Tomas inhaled, already looking a bit green. "Yeah."

"If you need to puke, do it away from my scene," Constance snapped. "Not like the last one."

The red that flushed Tomas' cheeks clashed with the tinge of green, which seemed fitting, given the fact the holiday was around the corner. "It was an accident," Esau murmured. "He won't do it again." He turned to glare at Tomas. "He won't do it again."

"Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. I won't," Tomas sputtered.

"I'll go over and appraise the scene while you guys collect the rest of your gear," Esau said. "I'll see if we need to call in a second team."

"From what they told you over the phone, I have a hunch you'll be making that call real soon," Constance replied.

I have the same hunch. Esau turned and lumbered up the slight incline toward the fray. One of the San Diego Sheriff's Department officers marched from the edge of the crowd in his direction, an older, balding man Esau was sure he'd seen before.

"You forensics?"

Esau glanced down at the black polo he was wearing with the embroidered San Diego County Forensics on his chest. "Nope."

The man—wearing a nameplate that read Guest and the marks of a Sergeant—frowned, confused for a second, before scoffing. "Who's in charge of your team?"

"You're looking at him." He offered a hand. "Esau Rodriguez, Senior Investigator."

Sergeant Guest took his hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you." He cocked his head toward the scene, and they trudged side by side toward it. "I've kept my guys as far away from it as possible to not contaminate anything. We got the original call from CBP, so they were first on scene—I'm not sure how much they might've messed with before we got here. There's two border agents giving their statements now. One's got blood soaked into his pants leg, so can't say they weren't in the thick of it. You can ask them what they touched, if you need confirmation."

A wave of odor hit him as they neared, the scent of death and decay. With the heat, it could've been hours or days. He'd be unsure until he got a better look and some test results. As they neared, the officers parted like the Red Sea, watching his every move.

There had to be at least a dozen deputies there, if not more, not counting the Customs and Border Patrol agents being questioned. All of them standing around, running their mouths, and acting like bystanders versus law enforcement. They had, at least, appeared to stay away from the bodies from what he could tell. Yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the wind, wooden dowels jabbed into the sandy dirt to contain it.

"Has anyone swept the area for clues?"

"They did a sweep," Sergeant Guest replied.

Esau glanced at his watch. "I don't want to tell you how to do your job, Sergeant," he said, eyeing the officers leaning on their cars. "But we got the call an hour ago, which means you likely weren't here much sooner than that. As big as this scene is, no way they did an extensive perimeter search in that time."

Guest glared before turning to face the men. "Search the perimeter again. I don't want to see any of you back before dark."

A pack of complaints was his reply.

Esau ignored their presence and focused on the task at hand. He paused at the edges of the grisly scene as the grumbling deputies spread out and moved away. Blood, gore, entrails, bones… it was impossible to determine how many had died. It was worse than he'd imagined. He drew in a breath and wished he hadn't. Lingering behind the rotting flesh and coppery blood was a hint of brimstone.

Demons.

His gut had told him that from the first call, but having his instincts confirmed was a positive in a vast sea of negatives. Not that he'd wanted to be right.

His next question: had the demons been inside the human victims or the humans' murderers?

"I've been doing this for thirty years, and I've never seen one this bad," the sergeant said.

And it was bad. As bad as some of the scenes he and Joaquin left in their wake during their midnight hunts. Could there be another demon hunter in the area? He crouched, pulling on a pair of latex gloves, and turned over one of the body parts. From the marks on the body, he didn't sense it was another hunter.

It was animalistic… though animals could've arrived after the initial killings and fed on the carcasses.

"Working theory my guys are bouncing around is this was a coyote," Sergeant Guest said. "The smuggling kind, not the animal, althou?—"

Esau interrupted. "We prefer to come into a scene without theories or hunches. We'll let the science determine what happened."

The sergeant sneered. "Yeah, you science geeks are all the same."

Esau clenched his jaw, irritation twisting in his belly. There was a love-hate relationship between his team and the law enforcement officers they assisted. They were loved when the science confirmed officers' theories and despised when it didn't.

"I was a detective not so long ago," Esau murmured.

"Oh?"

"I prefer the geeks," he said, giving the man a pointed look. "They have more integrity."

Sergeant Guest glared a moment, and Esau awaited a rebuttal. The fuck if this asshole is going to talk shit about my team… the one he called first for assistance.

Glancing over his shoulder, Esau noted his folks approached, laden with cases, now covered in their protective clothing, bonnets, gloves, masks, and booties. He turned back to the sergeant.

Guest opened his mouth but quickly shut it before changing the subject. "I thought I'd seen the worst that one human being could do to another, but I was clearly wrong. You have to wonder who the fuck could do this to another person."

Maybe not a human being."There are some dark, evil things in this world."

The sergeant nodded. "Well, yeah. We see their handiwork every day. Not me so much anymore. I'm usually behind a desk these days, but this one was too big. I didn't believe the call when it came in, so I came out to look for myself. Wish I hadn't."

His team stopped at the edges, Cassandra whistling. Esau glanced at Tomas two seconds before the kid went running to lose his lunch behind one of the parked sheriff's vehicles. Off in the distance, he noted more dust flying. He turned to see several black SUVs pull in and park near theirs.

"More CBP, I'd guess," Guest said. "I was surprised they weren't here already, butting in where they're not needed."

Esau rolled his eyes. A turf war was about to happen over his crime scene, he suspected. Regardless, the area was his until they were done with it. Then CBP and the Sheriff's Department could fight all they wanted.

"I'll call in another team but get started in the meantime," he told his folks. "Remember this is our scene until we're done. Don't let whatever bullshit goes on outside that crime tape interfere with what you're doing."

His team quietly got to work, and he spun to intercept the CBP agents marching up.

"This should be our scene," the first agent claimed without preface. "Our agents should've called us, not you guys."

"When did murder investigations become Customs and Border Control purview?" Guest asked, lifting one brow.

Esau looked between Guest and the other unnamed agent. He wore no identifying markers. No name patch outside the bullet-proof vest he wore over his CBP uniform like his men behind him.

"When it's tied to human trafficking across the border," the agent said, placing his hands on his hips and lifting his chin. "It's clear this is human smuggling gone wrong, so it's ours."

"We haven't determined that it's human trafficking," Guest barked.

There goes that working theory he spoke of."Does CBP have a forensics team I don't know about, Officer…?" Esau asked.

The CBP agent's head whipped in his direction—and that's when Esau saw it. The glow of red deep in the man's eyes.

A demon. Fuck.

Act natural.

The demon didn't offer a name, human or otherwise. "No. We don't have a forensics team, not one for a crime scene such as this, that is," the man said before shoving on a pair of sunglasses, as if he noticed Esau's reaction.

"Which means you would've had to call us in anyway. Which means this is our scene right now, no one else's. You two dogs can fight over this bone after we're done."

Esau surveyed the other agents behind their assumed leader but didn't note any red glow. Better it wasn't a pack, but one was bad enough.

"Fine," the man rumbled. "But hurry it up. I need details ASAP."

"It gets done when it gets done," Esau said as evenly as he could. "I've got to call another team in. This is too much for my folks to process alone. It'll take another team at least an hour to get here, so get comfortable."

The demon scoffed, spinning and storming away without another word. His agents followed.

"Fucking border agents," Guest scoffed.

"They're all the same, hmm?" Esau asked, brow raised as he watched the demon closely, noting where it stopped.

Guest snickered. "I'm going to check on my deputies. If you have anything to share, bring it to me. Not them."

"Far as I know, this is your case until told otherwise," Esau murmured. Even if it was CBP's, Esau wasn't handing anything over to a demon. The department could handle that.

After a quick scan of the area, he backed away, peeled the gloves off, and fished his cell from his pocket. First, he called for another team to be deployed. As soon as he was done, he made another quick call.

"Hey, babe," Joaquin answered.

"Hey."

"What's wrong?"

Esau chuckled mirthlessly. Joaquin read him like a book, even through a phone. He lowered his voice, stepping back a bit farther. "Bad scene. Countless dead near the border. I scent brimstone."

"Lovely. Were the dead previously possessed?"

"Hard to tell yet. The remains are in pieces and from the looks of it, a few animals might have had their dinner, too. Once it's all processed, we can scan the photos and I can show you."

"Maybe there's another hunter? Not like we haven't run into others over the years."

"That thought came to me, too. Too soon to tell." He paused a second, searching the surrounds for the demon. "There's more. A few CBP agents just showed up, trying to lay claim to the scene. The one leading the pack had the red glow."

"A demon CBP officer? For fuck's sake." Joaquin let out a slow breath.

"He was adamant the scene was theirs to work."

"Which sounds like it's definitely demon-connected in some way and they're trying to cover it up. No other reason he'd want to take control."

"Exactly. I don't know what I've stumbled over here, but I don't like it."

"Want me to head your way?"

"You can't be on scene."

"No, but I can be close in case shit goes down," Joaquin said. "Shoot me a ping so I know where you are."

"I will as soon as I hang up."

"Good. I've got keys in hand and headed for the truck."

"We're out in the Otay Mountain Wilderness, so the scene is massive. You're not going to be able to get too close. There's a dozen or so deputies searching the perimeter as we speak."

"I can always shift and sneak closer. Keep watch."

The corners of Esau's mouth curled up. His man was ever the protector.

"You know, it makes sense," Joaquin said.

"What does?"

"Him being a CPB agent. With that Hellmouth south of the border, having demon agents would grease the wheels and help them cross into the US. CBP is probably full of them. We should investigate."

Lower-level demons didn't have the power to teleport like Hell's nobility, hence their need to use the Hellmouth. Once topside, they couldn't remain long without a body to possess. They had to claim one and cross the border like anyone else if they wanted to travel north. They might luck out and snag an American tourist with a passport and cross with ease, but most of the time, they had to cross legally or, as often happened, illegally in the body of a Mexican citizen.

He and Joaquin had hunted near the border—not too close to get caught by CBP—often for just that reason, sending the beasts back to Hell before they had a chance to do much damage. It was a losing battle, of course, as those demons could eventually be sent back over and over again, but what else could they do?

Let them spread chaos unchecked?

"Imagine if they took over more CBP agents? There would be a free-for-all at the border crossing. Demons coming in left and right," Joaquin asked. "What's the demon's human name?" Joaquin asked before giving Esau a chance to respond, the click of keys in the background. "I can do some digging later."

"No nametag. Didn't identify himself. I tried to subtly get him to give it, but you know how demons are with names."

"Names have power, blah, blah, blah," Joaquin muttered.

"I'll work on flushing it out and let you know if I get anything."

"Okay," Joaquin said, the sound of their front door closing in the background. "Don't forget the ping. I'm leaving in seconds."

"K."

"Esau?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Joaquin stompedon the gas pedal, the truck not moving as fast as he wanted it to. Then he made the stupid decision to get onto 94, which slowed him down even more. It was the Wild West there, no rules, all rage. Why he'd gone that way, he wasn't sure, other than it was the fastest route there. He played fast and loose, flying through at breakneck speeds.

When he came to a slow down, he bellowed in frustration. A demon near his human? Sure, Esau killed them nearly every fucking night, but he was always close.

Always protective of his human.

Esau was in danger, and his heart thundered faster and faster in his chest.

The sun low in the sky, he finally made the turn off to the park. He checked the location of Esau's last ping and parked the truck near the base of the Mountain Trail. From a distance, he could see park rangers stationed as guards at the foot of the trail with the gates closed.

Joaquin slipped his t-shirt over his head and tossed it onto the bench seat at his side. He scratched the patch of hair between his pecks as he scanned for the safest spot to slip past. After kicking off his shoes, socks, pants, and briefs, he searched around once more, but saw no one close enough to bother. He slowly slipped from the truck and padded barefoot into the woods across from the trail. He glanced down at his naked form, cringing, terrified someone might see.

Lifting his gaze, he allowed the transformation to take over. His bones cracked and shifted, black fur sprouting to cover his skin. Once all four paws hit the ground, his tail curling behind him, he let out a low growl. The beast within pleased, Joaquin leapt into action, racing toward the point he'd last seen on the map.

Muscles bunching, he raced through the undergrowth. He didn't get the opportunity to run—to really run—often, so he reveled in it, pushing his limbs as far as they would go. Living in San Diego, he was limited on when and where he could allow his shifter side free. It wasn't his first time coming out to the Otay preserve. He'd been in the same area on occasion when his inner jaguar couldn't live another day without the shift.

But he wasn't there for pleasure.

He was there for Esau.

He climbed the mountain and noted blue and red lights flashing below. Dusk was well upon them, and he smiled. His sight was even better in the dark. No one would see him coming or going. Joaquin made his way down the mountain and closer to his mate. Sneaking around the deputies and their flashlights was child's play. They didn't even realize he was mere feet away from them. As he neared his mate, he noted huge lights had been erected outside the crime scene, turning it into near daylight there.

He"d have to stay back in the shadows. Once he eyed Esau, he breathed easier. Joaquin climbed into a tree in the shady surrounds to stand watch. He needed to ensure his mate walked away alive. Seconds after he got into a comfortable enough spot, Esau turned in his direction. He purred, loving how his human could sense his presence.

His hackles rose seconds later when he caught sight of the demon Esau had mentioned. The need to take the fucker down pulsed like an angry tooth, but there were too many witnesses for that. He'd have to bide his time and wait for the right moment.

It would come.

Eventually.

And so he watched, demon and mate, to safeguard what was his. Hours passed before Esau's team was finished and wrapped up their gear. Esau meandered closer, lifting a cell phone to his ear. He stood directly under the tree where Joaquin hovered, but never lifted his gaze as he pretended to take a call.

"Hey, I still haven't gotten a name, but I was able to sneak a tracker under the SUV it arrived in. We can follow and see where it goes."

Joaquin purred in response.

"I figured that would make you happy," Esau said into the phone. "I need to get back and help my team wrap up. This was a hairy one. They're exhausted."

Joaquin purred again.

"I've left the back gate of my SUV down. In case someone wanted to sneak in and hitch a ride down the mountain with me."

While he'd prefer to run again, he'd stick close to Esau. He let out another purr before Esau ended the charade and wandered back to the team. Joaquin hung back until it appeared they were almost done before leaping from tree to tree until he was in front of Esau's vehicle. When the coast was clear, he crept down the trunk and remained low to the ground. A scan of the area didn't pick anyone close, so he leapt into the SUV as quickly as he could.

"Hey, Esau! I think there's a mountain lion in your SUV, man!"

Mountain lion? When have you ever seen a black mountain lion? Never. Idiot.

Joaquin groaned, diving onto the floor between front and second row. A flashlight poured through the window, and he was sure he'd been caught—until he saw Esau's face through the glass. His human grinned before turning around. "I don't know what you saw, man, but there's no mountain lion in here."

Not a total lie. There is no mountain lion here.

After closing the back gate, Esau opened the driver's door and turned to his team before getting in. "I'll meet you guys back at the lab. We'll unload the evidence and call it a day. Tomorrow, we can begin piecing things together." He climbed inside and shut the door, lifting his cell to his ear. "The demon's still fighting with the Sheriff's Department over jurisdiction. It's wrong and we all know it, but point is, it's preoccupied at the moment. I think we can leave without being followed."

Joaquin shifted back into his human form but remained on the floor. "Maybe I should stay. Watch the demon. I can trail it." Not him, but it. Demons didn't deserve to be considered anything more than an object.

"You're on foot."

"I'm fast in animal form. He won't get away."

"You'd lose him once he hit the highway. We have the tracker. I'll hand you my personal phone when I drop you off at your truck; I've got my work phone. You can follow it and see where it goes while I tie up things at work. We regroup and go on the hunt."

Joaquin chuckled. "I fucking love you. You know that, right?"

"I do," Esau murmured, his tone soft. He reached a hand behind the seat, and Joaquin squeezed it. When Esau let go, he turned over the engine. "Let me give my folks a head start, and then we'll head down so there's no one to see you sneak out."

"You got it."

After idling a few minutes, Esau pulled out and took them down the bumpy mountain trail. Lying on the floor wasn't the best option considering how much he was tossed about. Flashing his claws out, he sunk them into the floorboards to help steady himself. When the vehicle stopped, he rose on his elbows.

"All clear?"

Esau's head whipped from side to side. "Looks that way. We were the last to leave besides the coroner's team—and they're going to be up there awhile."

"Perfect." He popped up, gave Esau a rough kiss, and leaned back. "I'll see where your friend ends up and give you a call."

"Friend? Fiend is more like it." Esau kissed him again before handing over the cell phone. "Be careful."

"Same, baby." Joaquin stole one last kiss before slinking out of the backseat and running barefoot to his truck. Once inside, he gave Esau a thumb's up before dragging on his clothes. He snatched Esau's phone from the seat beside him and entered the password.

Moments later, he had a map, a bright red, moving target, and a warming in his belly. Killing demons was almost as good as sex and maybe he'd get both that night. But when he pulled into a gas station an hour later and found the AirTag in some bushes along the road, he roared in frustration.

Damn them to Hell!