Blood Revolution (God Wars, #3) Read Online Free
Author: Connie Suttle
hauled inside the house.
Two of the men were short and square-built, with shaved heads. I seldom used my nose, but it told me these two were brothers. My reading also told me they'd been involved in petty crime for years. Perfect for an obsession—it didn't take much to convince them to increase their activities.
The third man—taller, heavier and Russian by birth, appeared to be in charge. He ordered the driver to park the car in the garage around the side before jerking his head at the other two, who now held all three leashes. I followed as the women were led inside the house.
Murder had already taken place inside—the smell of old blood was evident, although it had been cleaned up as much as possible. A square sitting room was located right off the front door and the women were ordered to kneel near a wide doorway leading into a rectangular dining room. No furniture was inside either room—I had the idea that the house, like the one in Oakland, had been rented hastily for the purpose of committing murder.
"Remain on your knees," the Russian ordered the women. "Do not look up." His accented English was low and vulgar to my ears. All three women lowered their eyes to the floor, just like the obedient submissives they were. I watched as the Russian pulled a thin, metal knife from his boot. Well, the obsession was activating and things were about to go down unless I acted now.
It only takes a bit of power to heat metal, and the long, thin blade the Russian held became hot so quickly he swore in Russian and dropped it immediately, howling in pain. His two American flunkies rushed forward, which made things ridiculously simple for me.
No, the one who'd placed the obsession wasn't there; I'd known that the moment I misted inside the house. Only the ones I'd followed were inside. Exerting more power, I released the particles of all three men. The three women, who hadn't even looked up when a knife clattered to the floor in front of them, never saw the sparks of the men fly away. I defied anyone to convict me of a crime with no evidence or witnesses.
The driver walked into the house as the last man's sparks winked out. I materialized before the women while the driver squeaked in fear. Turning to him, I placed compulsion. "You will not remember me. Drive these women to their homes," I commanded. His eyes went blank and he nodded. I hated placing compulsion—on anybody—no matter how deserving. This situation required it.
"Now, you three," I knelt to look the three women in the eyes. The men had been choosy, selecting a blonde, a redhead and a brunette deliberately. "You will tell that man your address," I said, "and you will go home and not go out again tonight. Do you hear me? You will forget me and the three who brought you here."
They stared and nodded fearfully at me. "You may speak," I told them.
"Who are you?" the redhead's voice wobbled.
"Somebody who doesn't appreciate injustice," I replied. "Go with the driver, now. He'll deliver you safely to your homes. I have things to do." I backed away and watched as the three women rose and followed the driver out the door. I left the door of the house open when I misted away, flying as fast as I could toward my house in San Rafael.
* * *
"Charles!"
"Yes, Honored One?" Charles stood in Wlodek's study seconds later, an inquisitive expression on his face.
"Three murders occurred in San Francisco recently. I want you to track this, as all three died after their throats were cut. Should more murders transpire in the area from similar circumstances, I wish to be notified immediately." Wlodek pushed handwritten notes toward Charles, who reached out to take them from Wlodek's desk. "I received this call from one of ours in the area, and he is quite concerned about this."
"I understand," Charles nodded slightly. "I will research this right away. Anything else?"
"Bring me whatever you find. This troubles me."
"Of course, Honored One." Charles nodded respectfully and
Two of the men were short and square-built, with shaved heads. I seldom used my nose, but it told me these two were brothers. My reading also told me they'd been involved in petty crime for years. Perfect for an obsession—it didn't take much to convince them to increase their activities.
The third man—taller, heavier and Russian by birth, appeared to be in charge. He ordered the driver to park the car in the garage around the side before jerking his head at the other two, who now held all three leashes. I followed as the women were led inside the house.
Murder had already taken place inside—the smell of old blood was evident, although it had been cleaned up as much as possible. A square sitting room was located right off the front door and the women were ordered to kneel near a wide doorway leading into a rectangular dining room. No furniture was inside either room—I had the idea that the house, like the one in Oakland, had been rented hastily for the purpose of committing murder.
"Remain on your knees," the Russian ordered the women. "Do not look up." His accented English was low and vulgar to my ears. All three women lowered their eyes to the floor, just like the obedient submissives they were. I watched as the Russian pulled a thin, metal knife from his boot. Well, the obsession was activating and things were about to go down unless I acted now.
It only takes a bit of power to heat metal, and the long, thin blade the Russian held became hot so quickly he swore in Russian and dropped it immediately, howling in pain. His two American flunkies rushed forward, which made things ridiculously simple for me.
No, the one who'd placed the obsession wasn't there; I'd known that the moment I misted inside the house. Only the ones I'd followed were inside. Exerting more power, I released the particles of all three men. The three women, who hadn't even looked up when a knife clattered to the floor in front of them, never saw the sparks of the men fly away. I defied anyone to convict me of a crime with no evidence or witnesses.
The driver walked into the house as the last man's sparks winked out. I materialized before the women while the driver squeaked in fear. Turning to him, I placed compulsion. "You will not remember me. Drive these women to their homes," I commanded. His eyes went blank and he nodded. I hated placing compulsion—on anybody—no matter how deserving. This situation required it.
"Now, you three," I knelt to look the three women in the eyes. The men had been choosy, selecting a blonde, a redhead and a brunette deliberately. "You will tell that man your address," I said, "and you will go home and not go out again tonight. Do you hear me? You will forget me and the three who brought you here."
They stared and nodded fearfully at me. "You may speak," I told them.
"Who are you?" the redhead's voice wobbled.
"Somebody who doesn't appreciate injustice," I replied. "Go with the driver, now. He'll deliver you safely to your homes. I have things to do." I backed away and watched as the three women rose and followed the driver out the door. I left the door of the house open when I misted away, flying as fast as I could toward my house in San Rafael.
* * *
"Charles!"
"Yes, Honored One?" Charles stood in Wlodek's study seconds later, an inquisitive expression on his face.
"Three murders occurred in San Francisco recently. I want you to track this, as all three died after their throats were cut. Should more murders transpire in the area from similar circumstances, I wish to be notified immediately." Wlodek pushed handwritten notes toward Charles, who reached out to take them from Wlodek's desk. "I received this call from one of ours in the area, and he is quite concerned about this."
"I understand," Charles nodded slightly. "I will research this right away. Anything else?"
"Bring me whatever you find. This troubles me."
"Of course, Honored One." Charles nodded respectfully and
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