Personal Demon
Page 91

“You said this was Sonny’s?”
I nodded.
He sniffed it, and I realized that was why he was here—reacquainting himself with these scents.
“Let me grab you something of Jaz’s.”
He protested that he could tell Jaz’s scent by elimination, but I hurried into the bedroom, eager to be doing something after a morning of following others around.
There were two twin beds in the room, and a laundry basket standing in for a hamper. At least 80 percent of the dirty clothes had made it in.
Lying on top was the shirt Jaz had worn after the sweet sixteen heist. As I lifted it, I saw him again, his eyes dancing with tequila, the fumes on his breath as his lips came toward mine, his hands pressed against my sides, eyes closing, inky lashes curling on his cheeks—
“Is that his?” Karl asked from the door.
I spun, raising the shirt as if to show it off, shielding my face. “It is.”
He didn’t respond. When I lowered the shirt, he was already gone. I grabbed a knapsack from the open closet, stuffed the shirt inside and hurried out. He put the jacket into a separate pouch, then wordlessly took the bag from me.
 
WE WALKED TO the car in silence. I fretted that I’d upset him, but he’d been quiet since the morgue.
Making a big deal out of it would only confirm that this visit had affected me. That I was still thinking of them. Of him.
We were in the car before Karl spoke. “Sonny was at the warehouse.”
“Probably. I was too new, but Guy trusted them. He’d have taken them there or sent them for supplies.”
“I mean last night. His scent was as strong as the other boys’.”
My heart thumped. “Maybe they were keeping him there.”
“Maybe.”
“Was there any trace of…anyone else?”
“Jasper? No.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”
 
THE WAREHOUSE WAS on the way to the apartment where Carlos had been found, and Karl wanted to confirm Sonny’s presence—now that he had scent samples—and see whether there was a trail.
There was.
We expected it to lead to the street and disappear. Instead, the trail meandered down alleys and back roads.
Despite the serpentine route, it was obvious Sonny had a goal in mind, and was detouring around major arteries.
“He doesn’t want to be spotted,” I said as we walked down a service lane. “Can you tell who he’s with?”
“No one.”
“He’s alone? He must be escaping then.”
Karl slowed, then looked over his shoulder at me.
My cheeks warmed. “I know that’s not the only explanation, Karl. He could be—” I pushed the admission out. “He could have been at the warehouse of his own free will. He could be working with whoever is behind this.
He could have delivered the bottle. I know all that. I just…”
 
I saw their faces: Bianca, Rodriguez, Max, Tony, Guy. Twenty-four hours, and almost everyone I’d met in the past few days was dead.
“It’s just too much. I…need to hope.”
He turned, stopping me in my path, and rubbed down the goose bumps on my arms. He leaned closer, and I thought he was going to kiss me, but he just leaned in, his voice lowering.
“I’m going to call Lucas and have them send a guard and a car. You should go to that apartment where they found Carlos, see if you can pick up anything.”
“I’ll be okay, Karl.”
“I think you should—”
“It won’t cloud my judgment. I promise.”
One last squeeze. As we walked, he snuck glances my way. Looking for signs that he should insist on doing this without me.
The trail ended at a terraced garden, with notices that confetti and rice were prohibited. Presumably a popular wedding photo site.
Sonny’s trail led across the gardens to the park beyond, which wasn’t huge—maybe a couple of acres—
with playground equipment and benches.
We stood in the shadow of a storage shed beside the garden. I wished I’d brought a jacket. A chill wind blew in from the north, and the sun kept ducking behind cloud cover. Miamians, accustomed to better weather, had forsaken the park, all except a single child and her nanny on the swings, and a man slumped on a bench.
I looked at the man. At his size. At his dark blond hair, ruffled by the breeze. My heart picked up speed.
“That looks like Sonny.”
Karl crept to the garden railing, his head up, sampling the wind. He stepped back into the shadows with me.
“I think you’re right.”
The figure had his back to us, and was leaning against the corner of the bench, chin on his chest. “He could be sleeping.”
“Possible.”
I knew there was a more likely explanation. If Sonny had gone through all that trouble to avoid being seen, he’d hardly nap in a public park.
“I’m going to take a closer look,” Karl said. “I need you to stay here, Hope.”
“I will.”
He glanced my way. “I mean it.”
“I know. I’ll wait here where I can see him, and if he moves, I’ll hit my panic button to warn you.”
“Good.”
As he moved away, he stopped and looked back. His lips parted, but he shook his head. Before I could say anything, he was gone.
 
LUCAS: 18
 
 
“SO WE ANALYZED THE DNA and blood samples.” Warren kept his gaze on his notes, clutched in both hands. “Let’s start with the DNA. The requisition says it’s supposed to be from two magicians. But, well, sir, we didn’t find any sorcerer genetic markers.”
“They’re human?” Paige said.
“Um, we aren’t sure.” He laid the pages down, his gaze lifting as high as my cheekbones. “We’re running more tests. I wasn’t comfortable bringing you preliminary results, but I thought…”
“I’d want to know this right away. Yes, thank you. So we have two samples, from possible supernaturals—
”
“Probable, sir.”
“Probable. Of one or more unknown types—”
“One, I believe. They share over 50 percent of their DNA in common.”
“They’re brothers?”