Page 153 of Savior
I take a breath and let it out, willing my heartrate to slow back down to normal. “I’m not jumpy. I’m excited. There’s a difference.”
“About breaking in? You’re such a criminal, Dean.” Though the lower portion of Viking’s face is hidden beneath his own bandana, I know he’s grinning by the telling creases at the corner of his eyes.
“I prefer the term, Vigilante, thank you.” I’m on a goddamned roll tonight.
“So, what are we doing?”
“Dean thinks we’re gonna find something to lift this Legion guy’s prints off of.” Jason says.
“Alrighty.” Viking shrugs, always game for whatever. “Let’s steal some shit.”
We make our way inside the empty club house, through the old kitchen area.
“You sure this place is empty?” Viking asks.
“Yes. They cleared out of here about an hour ago.”
Viking immediately gravitates to a pizza box sitting on a counter, flipping it open. “Fuckin’ losers. Just gonna let a perfectly good calzone go to waste. Demon dumbasses.”
I watch him grab for it. “You’re not actually going to…” Before I can even finish my sentence, he’s already pulled down his bandana and taken a huge bite of it.
“About an hour, you’re right.” He nods, chewing and swallowing it down. “This has definitely been sitting out about that long. Cold, but not too stiff yet.”
Jason chuckles, shaking his head.
“Thanks, Viking. I really didn’t need your food forensics to tell me that, though.” I sigh, making my way to another locked door. This must be the office Lucinda mentioned. I pull my lock pickers back out, and make quick work of the office door.
Inside, there’s a desk with a crystal ashtray sitting on its corner. The office is sparse, as far as décor. Looks as empty and shitty as the rest of this place. But there’s a closet, just as she said there’d be. A closet, with more locks. I make quick work of these, too.
Though Lucinda painted a vivid picture of what lies behind this door, I’m not prepared for what’s inside.
The shrine, or altar, or whatever the fuck this is, is exactly as she described. Melted candles, bones, knives of sorts laid out below photos of Vanna. The larger photo of her, a candid shot, hung up in the center, I can’t place. But the others… the others spread out among the tools, or whatever these ritual instruments are… have got my blood boiling.
The same fuckin’ prints from the photos that were taken of us on the pool table that night… that Jack pinned to the light post with my switchblade, before he destroyed Serene… Only, it seems I’ve been burned from between her legs. Probably with a cigarette.
Motherfucker… How many more of these fucking photos are out there?
“Find anything?” Viking asks, suddenly behind me with Jason.
I slam the closet door shut before either of them can see anything. It takes all of my self-control not to put my fist through a fucking wall.
“What is it?” Jason asks. “You’re fuming.”
“He’s got more of those fucking photos of us together.” I growl.
“Damnit.” Jason sighs, wincing as he continues, “You take em’ this time, Legion knows you were in here… I hate to say it… and I feel for you, bro… But, you gotta leave them behind.”
“I know…”
“Is there really a shrine?” Viking asks.
I nod.
“Then anything in there will most likely only have his prints on it.” Viking says. “If he practices dark shit, his tools are sacred to him. Hell, they might even be coated in his DNA. Especially if he cuts himself like you said.”
“I’m sorry, but… What the fuck?” Jason looks at the both of us, a mixture of disgust and confusion on his face.
“Don’t even get me started.” I sigh, gripping the door knob. I shoot them both a look, and they each take a step back before I open the door again. I’m sure Legion keeps these photos of her, to himself. If this shrine, or altar thing, is supposedly a sacred space to him… And it was locked.
