Love me darkly, p.19
Love Me Darkly, page 19
part #1 of Behind The Veil #1 Series
He spun on his heel and stormed away, desperate to be out of this room, out of this building. It had taken every ounce of his strength and will to bring himself here today. That strength and that will had burned themselves out within an hour. He couldn’t be here right now.
“Where are you going?” Donovan called after him.
Mateo paused at the door, looking back. “I’m taking the day off. I can’t do anything until I get the green light for surveillance on Korenic.”
He didn’t wait for a response. The door swung shut behind him, and within seconds, he was standing outside, breathing fresh air. He snatched his tie off while bounding down the steps, one hand already going into his pocket for the keys to his rental. He didn’t know where he would go or what he would do with the time he had decided on the spur of the moment to give himself. It might not be fair, with the rest of the team working overtime to push the case forward. But then, life wasn’t fair, and he understood that more than most. He needed this time. He needed space to breathe. He needed a day to get his head on straight so he could do what needed to be done.
Mateo spent his afternoon wandering aimlessly around the French Quarter, allowing himself to drift as his mood dictated. He returned to his hotel long enough to change into more casual clothes and drop his laundry off to be cleaned. He left his work cell behind, and brought only his wallet, keys, and personal phone. Having no more tolerance for enclosed spaces and silence, he went for a walk and gorged himself on the sights and sounds of the city.
He’d hardly had the chance to observe his surroundings with the case and Melody consuming every bit of his time. But he enjoyed it now—the Victorian architecture with French and Spanish influence, the music that drifted on the air in a tangle of Country, Bluegrass, Hip Hop, and Jazz, the little nooks and courtyards tucked away off this side-street or that. He found a barber shop and submitted himself to a haircut and a close shave. He ducked into a boutique and bought himself more clothes, having only brought enough to get him through a week. He wandered through gift shops looking for the perfect trinkets to give Angelica when they were reunited. Leaving one of the shops with a heavy bag, he smiled for the first time in a while. The Mardi Gras mask and doll with a painted porcelain face were going to earn him a few brownie points for sure. She would probably add the mask to her dress-up trunk and display the doll with the rest of her collection. He sat on the edge of a stone fountain for an hour savoring a café au lait on ice, listening to a group of street performers blast sultry and upbeat jazz numbers with brass and horns.
When he got tired of carrying around his shopping bags, he returned to the hotel to drop them off, but found he still wasn’t ready to be isolated. So, he went back out, taking the rental car this time and venturing further away from the Quarter. He paid no particular attention to his surroundings at first, simply allowing himself to circle here and there, taking stock of the shops and restaurants within walking distance of his hotel. He’d been eating like crap this entire trip and hadn’t really taken the time to try the local cuisine. Of everything he’d learned about New Orleans, the food was what he’d heard talked about the most.
Then, the familiar shop on one corner caught his attention, and he swerved to turn into a parking space with a sudden thought. Yanking open the glovebox, he retrieved the plastic evidence bags he had stored there after the raids. One bag contained powder residue from inside one of the BAZ-024 inhalers. The other held a scrap of fabric. The items had already been tested by the crime lab, but some of the inconclusive results had made Mateo curious enough to consider bringing them here, to Marchand’s Botanica. He remembered Donovan saying that Aveline was knowledgeable about obscure herbs and their uses. The forensic tests had identified a plant compound containing certain alkaloids, but they had been unable to identify the plant itself. Mateo wasn’t sure how important it might be, but he would leave no loose end untied. Since Williams had discovered the Solstice matchbook at the Arkansas crime scene, he had come to value even the smallest scrap of evidence.
He found the shop empty, as it had been when he and Donovan visited before. Yet, other times he had driven past the shop, he’d seen people coming in and out. It seemed like fate that the place would be empty every time he arrived, needing Aveline’s expertise.
He found a sign near the register instructing customers to press a button if no one was downstairs. So, Mateo pushed it and then turned to inspect the crowded shelves and displays. He found a similar array of things to his last visit, though the offered herbs were different. He opened a few jars, sniffed them, closed them and put them back. Eventually, Aveline’s footsteps sounded on the staircase. Then she stood in front of him, her strange two-colored eyes boring into him.
“Agent,” she said, inclining her head at him. “I assumed you would be back, but didn’t expect you to come alone. Where is my nephew?”
Mateo wrinkled his brow. “Nephew?”
“I see Jackson didn’t tell you. Yes, I’m his father’s elder sister.”
It made perfect sense now that Mateo thought about it. Last time, Aveline had taken Donovan to task for not visiting more often.
“Donovan’s busy today, but I was hoping you could help with our case again.”
He reached for the bags under his arm, but her hand fell on his wrist, stilling him.
“Come upstairs with me. We will talk there.”
She crossed to the front door and flipped a sign to display that the shop was closed, then turned three deadbolts before leading him up the stairs. Mateo detected the aromas of something being cooked. It grew stronger when they entered the apartment, overwhelming him with the scents of garlic and onion. Other savory aromas tickled his senses, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything all day. As if it had heard his thoughts, his stomach trembled and gave a loud rumble that produced a chuckle from Aveline.
“Just in time for lunch,” she murmured.
“Oh, no,” Mateo replied, suddenly embarrassed. “I couldn’t—"
“I wasn’t expecting visitors, but after raising five kids, I don’t know how to cook for one person. There’s plenty, and I’ve heard enough about my nephew’s job that I know you probably haven’t had a proper meal in days.”
Mateo hesitated for only a moment. The smell of whatever she had cooked was so good his belly trembled with longing. He had walked past several cafes today but had been too mentally distracted to consider going into one for a meal. Now that he had allowed himself to settle a bit, he registered the weakness in his limbs, the twisting of his insides.
“If you insist, I … thank you.”
She gestured for him to precede her into the kitchen. The heat inside the bright, airy space would have been oppressive if she hadn’t opened the windows, allowing in a current of cooler air. He sank into a chair at the little round, wooden table and laid the evidence on the surface. The kitchen was small but efficiently organized, with spice bottles lined up on racks along one wall, while produce was nestled into hanging baskets. A rack of pots and pans hung overhead, and the door to a small pantry hung open. The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile at the sight of glass bottles filled with peppers drowning in vinegar and oil. His mother made her own pepper sauces and oils, and her kitchen was much like this one.
Aveline placed a steaming bowl in front of him. Mateo almost shed tears as that steam assaulted him. He couldn’t pick up the spoon fast enough.
“Red beans and rice,” Aveline said, her hazel-green eye twinkling as she watched him take the first bite. “A New Orleans staple.”
It might just be the best thing Mateo had ever put in his mouth. The flavors of chili and paprika and bay leaves danced on his tongue, and the familiar ingredients of beans and rice made him feel like he sat in his abuela’s kitchen.
“It’s incredible,” he murmured between bites. It was all he could manage when every bite invited him to take another, until he was scraping the bottom of the bowl with his spoon with a sinking heart.
“More?” Aveline urged.
His face went hot, but he wasn’t stupid enough to refuse. “Please.”
A little smirk showed at the corner of her mouth as she went to refill the bowl for him. This time, she came back with a glass of what he discovered was sweet tea. Before he could dive into his second bowl, she slid one of her pepper sauce bottles toward him.
“If you think you can handle a little spice,” she teased.
Mateo snorted. “I’ve been eating raw chili peppers since I was three.”
He doused the dish in pepper sauce and then dug in, lowering his head and groaning at the enhancement of the spice. His tongue and throat began to tingle and then burn, but he enjoyed the sensation as well as the heightened flavor. Aveline watched him eat in silence, her stare as unnerving as ever. Mateo was so involved with his food that he didn’t feel its intensity at first. It wasn’t until he came up for air after polishing off his sweet tea that he registered it.
“How can I help you, Agent?”
There was both a sharpness and a gentleness about Aveline that made Mateo both comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. It was as if her eyes gave a hint to her dual nature, conveying that she could be warm and helpful but was not to be trifled with.
He pushed the evidence bags across the table toward her. “The powder was retrieved from an inhaler that delivers a drug of some kind. Lab tests revealed a designer cocktail including PCP and tropane alkaloids. They know the alkaloids came from a plant, but were unable to identify it. I thought maybe you could. The fabric smells like it was contaminated with the same substance. All we know is that the plant compound produces psychotropic and hallucinogenic effects.”
Aveline opened the bags and retrieved the fabric first. The scrap of a victim’s shirt was faded from its original red and stained, but it still held the distinct scent of BAZ-024—sickly sweet and cloying. Aveline raised it to her nose and inhaled, nodding. Then, she retrieved the little baggie of powder and tapped some out onto the back of her hand. Aveline licked the powder, then frowned and wrinkled her nose. He flinched at her fearlessly ingesting what he had come to think of as poison. No lab tech he knew would ever put a sample of an unknown substance onto their bare skin, let alone lick it.
“Datura,” she said with a decisive nod. “That is the plant they used.”
“What is Datura?”
“It has other names—zombie’s kiss, Jimson weed, witch’s apple. You probably know it as moonflower.”
Her confidence alleviated his anxiety about her tasting the powder. So far, she didn’t appear to have been affected by such a small amount. He doubted the answer could have been found by any other means, which was why the crime lab had failed.
“What’s it used for?” Mateo asked.
Aveline went to a cabinet, which she opened to reveal rows of what appeared to be mostly cookbooks, but when she returned, he realized she held some kind of reference book. Curious, Mateo leaned in, realizing that it was an index of plants listed in alphabetical order, complete with drawings. She found what she was looking for and turned the book towards him. He noticed on a few pages that she had stapled a small sample of whatever plant was on the page. Datura had a sample, which she snatched free and handed to him. He eased it open and sniffed, finding the same cloying, syrupy odor coming from the powder and the cloth scrap.
“Smells the same.”
She nodded, using two fingers to pinch some of the dried flakes. “See how the leaf crumbles and the veining? That’s Datura stramonium. You won’t find it in your crime lab databases, but I’ve been using it in my practices since I was a girl. Potent stuff, highly dangerous. Should be used with extreme caution. The powder form of it has been sanctified, burned with bone ash so that it can be inhaled.”
Mateo scowled. “Why would anyone willingly ingest this stuff? The lab coats told us this stuff is deadly in high doses, not to mention the risks of heart attack or stroke when mixed with the PCP.”
“In some cultures and religions, Datura is used to unlock the mind and sharpen the senses. It is used in binding rites, dream rituals, and ancestral communications. When mixed with the other compounds you mentioned, I imagine this designer drug is meant to offer its users an elevated spiritual and physical state. Strength, imperviousness to pain, a mind that is open to suggestion and influence.”
“So, it’s safe to say The Veil uses this to control its members. But not just control them … turn them into soldiers.”
Aveline slowly shook her head. “Not soldiers, agents. Remember, one of Datura’s other names is zombie’s kiss. It doesn’t just make you see things, it empties you completely and fills you with something else. In the case of The Veil, that something is the doctrine of Azrael.”
Mateo shuddered, an uneasy feeling writhing in his gut at the memory of those low, rasping chants.
Blood and breath … blood and breath … blood and breath.
“My intelligence specialist uncovered talk about ritual drug use in some dark web forums,” he told her. “They aren’t just using this stuff to get high and become super soldiers. There’s more to it than that.”
Aveline sprinkled the sample of Datura back into its baggie and fit it between the pages before snapping the book closed. “You will recall that I told you the worshippers of Azrael believe in a veil separating the world of mortals and the spiritual plane. It is possible that by ingesting this compound, the followers believe they are thinning that veil and invoking Azrael himself.”
“Like being filled with the Holy Ghost?”
Aveline smiled, though her eyes held a glimmer that couldn’t be ignored. The things she was saying sounded insane, but Mateo was more aware than ever how serious this had become. He had dismissed the occult aspects of the murders, refusing to believe that they had meant anything. Now he was coming to realize that it was the entire point. The realization changed everything.
“They refer to the drug as BAZ-024. Any idea what that could mean?”
She seemed to think that over for a moment, folding her hands before her on the table. “Breath of Azrael. From what I know of the Book of Azrael, there is mention of a kiss of death, a breath that severs the soul from the body. Maybe they hope to achieve this through the drug. By taking in the breath of Azrael, they hope to slip through that thinned veil and become like the angel themselves—purveyors of death.”
“And the number 24?”
“Can’t be a coincidence. The number twenty-four has significance in many spiritual traditions. It is the number of hours in a day and can represent a complete spiritual cycle.”
“We had assumed it was a batch number or something.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Two things can be true at once. But consider that the number assigned to this batch isn’t arbitrary. It means something to them—possibly that is the desired version of the drug. The one that allows the ascension they are searching for.”
Mateo rubbed the piece of red cloth between his fingers, knowing he was contaminating the evidence and not caring. There was nothing the crime lab could tell him that Aveline hadn’t already revealed. He now had a deeper knowledge of The Veil and their motives. He now knew the reason behind the drug and its method of delivery. He now fully understood what he hadn’t wanted to see before. The UNSUB was most certainly a devout worshipper of Azrael. He had bought into this cult shit fully and completely, and used it as an avenue for acting out his sadistic fantasies.
“Thank you, Mrs. Marchand. You’ve helped me more than you could imagine.”
Reaching across the table, she rested a thin, wrinkled hand on top of his. Giving it a squeeze, she offered him a smile. Her eyes still held a heavy warning, one he would be a fool to ignore.
“Proceed carefully, Agent. The followers of Azrael aren’t your average sycophants. Their beliefs run deep, and their dedication is unshakable. You face quite a fight. And call me Aveline. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again, and when we do, I’d like it to be as friends. This is N’awlins, after all. You’ve been here long enough to be family.”
Mateo laughed. “Then you call me Mateo, and we’ll definitely be friends. Especially if you’re going to feed me so well.”
Aveline stood with a groan, pressing her hand to the small of her back. “I’ll do better than that, Mateo. How about a container to go?”
“Yes,” he answered before she had even finished asking the question.
Melody stared around the empty hotel room with wide eyes, tucking the keycard Mateo had given her into her back pocket. She couldn’t decide what had possessed her to come here, but after hours of trying to find some way to occupy her time and her thoughts, she had ended up at the Marriott Bonvoy. No one in the lobby had paid her any attention as she’d crossed to the elevator as if she belonged there, taking it up to the third floor. She had knocked a few times in case Mateo was in, but after a few minutes realized he wasn’t. It was early, almost dinner time, and the sun was still shining. He was probably working. With a smirk, she wondered who he might be stalking today since she’d been holed up at home. She couldn’t help a twinge of jealousy at the thought that it could be a woman. A woman he watched with the same intensity he leveled at her.
Impossible, she told herself.
Having been curious about his job title, she’d done a little research. Supervisory Special Agent put him pretty high on the bureau food chain, and made him responsible for a lot. She imagined he worked constantly.
Now that she was here, alone, Melody was suddenly anxious. What would Mateo think if he came back to find her here? Would he be happy to see her? That seemed unlikely, only because Mateo never seemed happy. Every now and then, he would look at her, his face would soften, his lips twitching like he was trying to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. He would probably scowl at her, grab her by the arm, and ask her why she was here. He would stare her down with those molten eyes, peering into her soul and searching for her secrets.
Her belly roiled with both fear and anticipation. She realized there didn’t need to be a real reason for her to be here. Despite telling him to leave her alone more than once, she found herself drawn to him. It was inexplicable, and all the more frightening for that reason.
