Black Hat, White Witch by Hailey Edwards

8

Faint knocking lifted me out of my deep sleep, and I jerked awake to find myself in a hotel room.

“Colby called Clay,” Asa said through the door. “She’s worried about you.”

“What time is it?” I craned my neck until I spotted the alarm clock. “Midnight.”

“I thought you would want to know.”

Muffled steps retreated before I could thank him. Fumbling my muted phone out of my pocket, I dialed Colby, who hit video chat, bringing her adorable face into full view.

“You didn’t call,” she accused. “You didn’t return mine either.”

“I had a rough first day. I’m sorry.” I shoved upright. “I should have called you before I crashed.”

“You should have.” Her antennae stood on end. “I worried about you.”

“I’ll tell Clay if I ever wipe out on the job, it’s his duty to call you to let you know I’m okay.”

“I’m not happy with you.” She used her mocking tone, aka her impression of me. “You know better.”

“Okay, twerp, you’re pushing it.” I chuckled. “I said I was sorry, and I meant it.”

“It better not happen again.”

“It won’t.” I crossed my heart. “I have learned from my mistakes and vow never to repeat them.”

I gave her a second to enjoy calling me out, which was deserved, before I returned the favor.

“It’s midnight here.” I spied her computer screen blazing. “What time is it there?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She made her eyes bigger and rounder. “I had to know you were okay first.”

“Aww.” I mimed wiping a tear. “Now go to bed.”

“This is the thanks I get for worrying.”

“Night-night.”

“Sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

The call was the exact medicine I needed to get back to one hundred percent. Feeling guilty, I texted Asa an apology for Colby bothering them. Clay didn’t sleep, but he zoned out to binge shows on his phone. It was my fault both of them were wide awake and plugged in at this hour.

>>You didn’t interrupt us. We’re going over the pictures from today.

>I’m wide awake now. Want to come over?

Rereading it—after I hit send, of course—I cringed.

>To work?

>>We’ll gather the files and join you.

The guys had left me in my clothes, which meant I only had to roll out of bed to be ready.

Clay, I wouldn’t have minded undressing me. Bodies were bodies. As far as he was concerned, I had nothing new or interesting to see. Plus, when we worked together, we often posed as a couple and shared a room. He had seen it all, many times, and didn’t give a fig.

But Asa…

He was complicated in a way I didn’t need or want right now. Maybe ever. He had baggage, a full set. Just like me. He probably had a history that would turn human hair white. Also like me. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be in Black Hat.

I didn’t understand Asa’s cultures well enough to grasp if his interest was reciprocal, or if his possessive tendencies came with the dominant daemon package.

And it was a nice package.

I really had to stop thinking about his package.

For a split second before the door between rooms swung open, I entertained taking a cold shower.

“Hey, Dollface.” Clay carried three black bags to the table. “How’s Shorty?”

Still fuzzy around the edges, I squinted at him. “Shorty?”

“Colby?” He snorted. “She needs a nickname, so I don’t slip up in front of the wrong people.”

Not a bad idea, and it warmed me that he hit her with a nickname so fast, whatever his reasons.

“Mad.” I rolled a shoulder. “I missed our chat time.”

We scheduled it before I left, to be sure we kept up with one another while I was away.

“I told her you had to be carried in.” Clay shook his head. “Guess that didn’t make a dent.”

“Nope.” I claimed a chair. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Name it.” He unpacked three laptops and shoved them into position. “What do you need?”

A pinch in my chest reminded me why I had missed this, missed him, so much.

Clay might not technically be a person, but he was good people.

“Can you call Colby if this happens again? Just let her know I’m okay, and I’ll be in touch later?”

“Is that all?” He snorted. “Done.”

Asa carried an armload of junk food and dumped it on the table. “I brought snacks.”

The crinkle of a potato chip bag set my stomach grumbling. “Bless you, kind sir.”

“I told him what you like.” Clay shot his partner a narrow-eyed stare. “You should thank me.”

“Thank you, other kind sir.” I swatted his arm. “What’s with the territoriality?”

“You know how it is.” Clay finished setting up and sat gingerly in his chair. “Daemons will be daemons.”

“I don’t know how it is or even what that means.” I selected a computer. “I assume that was the point?”

“There’s no denying my daemon side is intrigued by you,” Asa said smoothly. “It worries Clay.”

There was a world of difference between Asa telling me he was interested versus his daemon.

“You don’t sound concerned.” I opened a bag of chips and popped one in my mouth. “Should I be?”

“I won’t harm you, no.” He hesitated. “Neither will the daemon.”

If Clay had been sucking on a lemon, he couldn’t look sourer. “Just know I’m watching you, Ace.”

A slow smile spread Asa’s full lips, and he dipped his chin in an oddly respectful gesture. “I’m aware.”

“Unless you guys plan on getting less cryptic,” I griped and crunched, “we might as well get to work.”

The password on my computer of choice was the same one Clay always used, which was all kinds of bad. These laptops contained data that could rock the human world if one was discovered and hacked. As far as passwords go, 123ABC was downright pathetic. That prompted me to ask, “Is this one yours?”

“What’s mine is yours.” He laughed when my eyebrows slammed down. “It’s new, okay? It’s for you.”

Now that he mentioned it, it did have that new circuit board smell.

“What were you guys looking at before Colby interrupted?”

“Maps.” Asa turned his laptop around, which already had a tab open with three red dots pinned to a digital map of the area. “The crime scenes are within twenty-five miles of one another.”

“You think the killer is local?” I went through the motions of setting up the laptop how I liked it. “There’s another common thread, right? The properties where the victims have been found are off logging roads. The areas are in the process of being clear-cut.”

“That fits with him being local.” Clay left his laptop shut. “He could be scouting locations on the job.”

Done futzing, I asked, “How many logging companies operate within a fifty-mile radius of Asheville?”

“A lot.” Clay snorted as he peeked over Asa’s shoulder. “A quick search pulls up twenty-five.”

“So, we find out which companies had contracts for each kill site, get a copy of their employee rosters, and see if we have any matches.” For companies, employees, or hopefully both. “Are the Kellies still in research?”

“They’ll be glued to screens until they die,” Clay said fondly. “And love every minute of it.”

Arthur Kelley and Kelly Angelo—aka the Kellies—were the Black Hat research team.

Arthur was an old-as-dirt vampire, Kelly was a fledgling gargoyle, and they were as head over heels with the job as most folks were for their mates. With their light sleep schedules, the pair worked pretty much around the clock. Neither were allowed outside the Black Hat compound. The security feeds allowed the two a view of the changing world without risking human lives by releasing them into it.

“Do we have video of the scene?” I wasn’t up to speed on current procedure. “Or is that old school?”

“First on scene films it,” Clay confirmed. “We have vest cams now too, but the director nixed them for this case.”

“I’ll put in a request.” Asa clicked a few keys. “We’ll have it in the morning.”

“He didn’t want to risk a leak.” Smart move on his part. “One video is easier to suppress than ten.”

“That supports our concerns that the killer will take his, to borrow from Rue, art public.” Asa frowned. “I wonder if there’s a secondary reason for the director’s precautions within the Bureau.”

“An inside man?” Clay tilted his head. “I wouldn’t rule it out.”

“The Silver Stag files were sealed as soon as we realized we had a serial killer,” I recalled. “An agent back then might have heard gossip around the office. Now, aside from the personal notes of those involved, it would require express permission from the director to access that case.”

The question wasn’t if one of our fellow agents was capable of committing this Stag-worthy crime spree. That answer was a resounding yes. But if it was one of our own, then why wait a decade? Why the Stag?

“For now,” I decided, “I’m going to chalk the director’s behavior up to an overabundance of caution.”

“You don’t like the idea of sizing a fellow agent for a noose?”

Glancing up from the screen, I found Asa watching me with steady intent. “Not particularly.”

Most of us had done the crime and the time. Punishment ought to end at some point, in my opinion. But Black Hat was a lot like the mob. Marty was right about one thing. The only sure way to leave the Bureau for good was in a pine box.

“We’re veering off track.” Clay rapped his knuckles on the table. “Logging companies are a good place to start. The Kellies can have that information to us first thing. We’ll follow that lead from there.”

I could have contacted the Kellies myself, but I wasn’t ready to talk without hexing them yet.

They sniffed out intel for agents working cases, yeah, but that was a drop in the bucket of their duties.

The duo also tracked prey for the director via the internet.

Prey that now included me.

The Kellies had been doing their jobs. More importantly, they had no choice but to do their jobs.

I knew that. I did. I understood. Sympathized even. We were all trapped. Caged within the Bureau’s bars. True, the world was safer with us contained, leashed. But through me, they had put Colby in the director’s crosshairs, and that I had trouble forgiving.

“Works for me.” I had another thought. “Do we know if the truckers are employed by the company? Or are they independent contractors?”

“I’ll make a note,” Asa murmured. “The Kellies can dig up that information while they’re at it.”

A familiar trilling sent me in search of my cell, which I had left on the bed. “Hello?”

“The wards blinked just now.”

Ice glazed my spine, and my fingers curled around the phone. “As in contact?”

The wards had a few different indicators I rigged for Colby, who couldn’t feel them the way I did when in close proximity. The most common was a blink, which meant that a person or object had made contact. I had the sensitivity dialed all the way up while I was away, which meant anything bigger than a chipmunk would trigger a blink.

The blink itself was conveyed via a decorative traffic light I mounted on the wall above Colby’s monitor. I fixed it so brief contact with the wards would flash yellow for caution. Prolonged contact turned it red. If all was well, it remained green.

“It was yellow,” she said in a tiny voice. “It’s okay, I’m okay, I just wanted you to know.”

“Keep an eye on it.” We both knew she wasn’t going to sleep any time soon without adult supervision. “Tell me if it goes red, and I’ll be on the next flight home.”

“Okay,” she said softly. “Call me in the morning?”

“You got it.” I let her hang up then opened the security app on my phone. “Better safe than sorry.”

The guys, who had no trouble overhearing private conversations, would guess at my panic.

The first thing I did after purchasing the house was blanket it with security cameras. I wanted a warning to come through to us even if my wards unraveled before they sounded an alarm. I was doubly grateful for that paranoia now, as I flipped from camera to camera, bouncing from the porch view to the various entry points to the empty driveway and then to the tree mount that overlooked the entire house.

“I don’t see anything.” I exhaled through my parted lips. “It was probably an animal.”

“There are plenty of rabbits, deer, raccoons, foxes, and smaller prey on and around your property.”

The rundown from Asa, who had hunted there, made me feel better. However, Clay was unamused for it to come to light that Asa had been on the prowl while he was paralyzed and had chosen my property for his hunt.

“I get alarms if the camera perimeter is breached,” I told them, “but I’ll turn on motion alerts too.”

“Maybe we should call it a night.” Asa noticed the time. “It’s been a long day.”

“That sounds good.” I set down my phone. “I’ll shower and order room service while you rest.”

“I can stay if you want company.” A wrinkle pinched Clay’s brow. “I can binge Baketopia later.”

“That reminds me…” I squared off against him. “Your addiction to baking competitions is the reason why I stress bake. I hope you know that.” I jabbed a finger into his hard abs, which had literally been sculpted to perfection. “I could have opened a bakery with all the flour, butter, and sugar I’ve gone through in the last decade all because you got me hooked on sweets.”

Yet another reason he booked suites. They tended to come with full—if mini—kitchens. If he got bored with streaming videos or reading on his phone late at night, he got out of bed and hit Pinterest for recipes.

One night, early into our partnership, when my dreams were extra gruesome, Clay invited me to join him at the stove. The rest was history.

“I could have groceries delivered while you shower.” He winked. “I still remember that cookie recipe.”

“Kitchen sink cookies.” I wiped my mouth in case I drooled. “Can we bake them tomorrow night?”

“Sure thing.” He grinned. “I’ll get an order together. I expect we’ll be here another day at least.”

“That sounds perfect.” I flipped a hand at the equipment. “You guys can leave that here.”

“Okay.” Clay led the charge back to their room. “See you in the morning, Dollface.”

Asa was slower to follow, and he paused on the threshold between rooms to toy with my doorknob.

“We left this unlocked earlier.” He twisted the deadbolt. “I would rectify that.”

That wasn’t worrisome to hear right before bed. “You carried me in, right?”

Hand sliding off the door, he lowered his gaze. “I did.”

“Then thank you.” I joined him on the threshold, placed my hand on his chest, and pushed. “Night.”

After I shut the door between us, I heard a faint exhale that sounded like “Good night.”