Witch Hunt(54)

Isobel had broken into Suzy’s house.
As the video continued, I watched Isobel break into Suzy’s gun safe. She grabbed the Glock. It didn’t look like she was comfortable with firearms; she seemed to accidentally eject the magazine and struggled to reinsert it.
But then she turned suddenly, as if responding to a noise that the footage didn’t pick up. A man walked into the frame. He had a slender figure, long black hair, studded leather jacket—an incubus?
Isobel’s mouth moved silently. She aimed the gun.
He flashed across the screen, moving toward her with superhuman speed.#p#分页标题#e#
She fired. The muzzle flashed. Black blood spurted from the back of her assailant’s jacket.
And that was all of the footage.
I replayed it to make sure, searched for other files on the disc, but that was it. There had to be more after that—it just wasn’t on the CD.
I ejected the disc and checked the date again.
It was the day before Erin’s murder. Two days before I’d hunted down Isobel.
But there she was, breaking into Suzy’s house, caught on footage from a security camera that I was pretty sure didn’t belong to Suzy. The OPA had put surveillance in her house. I looked over my shoulder, thinking I’d see a guy in a black suit standing over me, and didn’t find anything. I was going to have to search my whole fucking apartment for cameras and microphones before I took another shower.
I didn’t put the disc back in. The image of Isobel struggling with a demon was still frozen on the screen even though I’d removed the CD.
The disc had belonged to my case, but been deliberately damaged by Eduardo and Joey. Why? What was it about Isobel’s fight with the incubus that they didn’t want anyone to know? Or was it the information that exonerated Suzy that they were trying to hide?
Because this definitely exonerated her—and implicated someone else entirely. Someone I never would have suspected.
Suzy had said that the Glock had been stolen from her house, and here Isobel was, doing the stealing. That Glock had appeared in my living room the night that Erin died.
I slammed the laptop shut and left the apartment.



The evening was growing long by the time I reached Helltown. I parked the Charger in the Walmart lot again before heading under the invisible arch.
This time, I thought to duck rather than getting a femur to the face.
The streets of Helltown were just as busy as the last time I’d been there—maybe even busier. It was getting late. The weaker demons were trying to get inside before night fell, and the stronger demons were preparing for another night of fun. A night that I didn’t plan on sticking around to see.
I’d gone in through the entrance closest to the Temple of the Hand of Death, and I sprinted straight there without looking back. I had to move through shadows to reach it. Every time I left direct sunlight, I felt a chill rake down my spine. Felt like eyes on my back. Creatures watching me. Waiting for a chance to feed. Maybe even Silver Needles closing in to try to kill me again.
I didn’t plan on giving them a chance.
The front door of the Temple of the Hand of Death hung off its hinges. And Isobel’s RV was parked next to the empty gas pumps.
Drawing my Desert Eagle, I threw open the door to her RV and checked inside. There was nothing there but the beaded curtains. No sign of a struggle—but no sign of Isobel’s whereabouts either.
I kept the gun aimed at the ground as I moved into the temple. There were no electric lights inside, so the shadows were deep. An oil lamp left smoky smears on the wall and didn’t penetrate the darkness all the way back to the altar. But it was enough light for me to see that the teenage priestess was sprawled on the floor in a mess of velvet skirts and blood. What had Isobel called her? Ann?
She stirred as I dropped to her side. She wasn’t dead. Thank God.
I holstered the gun. “Are you okay?”
“What do you think?” She pushed her skirts aside to reveal the hilt of a dagger jutting from her fleshy leg. She had been stabbed. My stomach lurched at the sight of it.
She needed medical support. An ambulance. The kind of help that couldn’t come into Helltown.
“Are you alone here?” I asked.
“I am now,” Ann said. She sat straight up, scanning the ground surrounding her. When her gaze fell on the stone scepter that had fallen a few feet away, she immediately seized it. Hugged it to her chest. “They took Isobel.” Still clutching the scepter tightly, the girl yanked the knife out of her thigh.
“Whoa there,” I said, standing back with my hands lifted, unsure if I should try to help her. “Be careful. The femoral artery—”
“It didn’t hit anything major. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.” She sounded calm, but she was sweating. She glared at me with furious blue eyes. “This is sacred ground. Isobel should have been safe here.”