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“Phew, thanks.”

“We’re getting married in the States, so it might be a drive, but it’s something you can reach.”

“Send me an invite, I’m there.”

I was glad he liked me as much as I was coming to like him. Brandon had predicted that if I ever met these two, we’d become good friends as well, and turned out he was right. But how could you not love these two when they were so kind, generous, and protective of their own? They were what good men should be.

I heard more vehicles pull in, turned in my seat to look out the back window and yup, backup had arrived. Thank fuck, I was ready to lead them inside just so I could call it quits for tonight. Not like I was needed for more than anything but clearing the place and pointing out the tripping hazards.

I took a second to pop out, put my compass back in the suitcase, and while I had it open, took out a few safeguards in case I had to handle something. Suitably armed, I headed for the door. We’d need to clear the house first, of course, just because there’s no other vehicles in the driveway doesn’t mean it’s empty. Borrowman was on my heels with gun in hand, but Lachlan was as well, and he kept sword in hand as well.

Hopefully he didn’t need to stab something, though I didn’t discount it.

The house really didn’t look like a danger zone from the outside. A typical two story house that had the best of the Eighties architecture with that overbite look. Bland white siding, dead flower beds, nothing unusual.

The energy pouring out of it, though, spoke of trouble. It was awful, truly god awful. Like wading into a cesspool while someone’s throwing gasoline and used oil on you. Forget a hot shower, I’d need a full cleansing ritual after this. I thought it prudent to tell Borrowman, “Make sure everyone here spritzes themselves down with salt water before they leave here. The energy will cling to you and make you sick otherwise.”

“Oh. Shit. I’ll make sure of it.”

With that said, Borrowman opened the door.

And a wave of putrid odor assaulted my nose.

I gagged almost immediately. This smelled worse than the other place, more fresh? Vile, like decaying flesh and the iron tang of blood, thick enough I could taste it. I grimaced in disgust but kept going, pulling a mask out of my pocket and putting it on, as the precaution felt prudent.

The layout of the house wasn’t a surprise, it was pretty typical as well. Living room to the left, stairs to the immediate right, a dining room and kitchen beyond them. I cleared the main floor carefully, one room at a time, but for the most part there was nothing here more dangerous than a possible disease if you carelessly touched something. There was no real furniture in here, a card table with camping chairs, some trash bags lining a wall, that was about it. I didn’t see any signs of a basement, but I knew most houses in the South didn’t have basements. Up, then.

I turned, pausing to tell Borrowman, “This main floor is safe to start processing, at least. I think our victim is upstairs.”

“Up we go, then.”

I led another follow-the-leader style caravan upstairs. Carpeted stairs soaked in questionable fluids, lovely. Those three really did not believe in cleaning up after themselves, did they? You’d think a doctor at least would be good at keeping things sterile. Maybe he just wasn’t willing to clean up after the other two, I could see that. Those three were very selfish by nature.

When I got up to the landing, there were three bedrooms, easily seen with the doors open, but the one in the center here was locked, one of those sliding bolt locks that could only be opened from this side. Ah. I’d bet the poor victim was in here.

Borrowman didn’t need the obvious pointed out to him, but he did ask, “Safe to touch the door?”

“Yup. My problem child is in there,” I pointed towards the far right bedroom. “I can see the energy pouring out.”

Borrowman immediately unlocked the door and eased it a little open. “Nashville PD, anyone in here?”

There was a sob, one sounding of pure relief, and a male voice called back, “Yes, please get me out of here!”

Well, he was alive and talking, that was a great sign. I couldn’t help but peek into the bathroom as Borrowman went inside, and the poor man was chained to the grating over the window. Had they put him in here as it was the most ready-made cell, or because they didn’t have to worry about bathroom breaks this way? Well, regardless, no energy attached to him, so it was safe to let paramedics and Borrowman handle him.

I went into the right bedroom. Stopped right inside the threshold, groaning.

“God fucking dammit, I hate it when I’m right.”

I felt Lachlan press up against my back so he could see over my shoulder. “Don’t like the look of that,” he muttered. “Bit mockit.”

“Ha, truly.”

He’d understated it, but I could see more, see how twisted the energy was. In the dead center of the room was another power bank, this one with only a singular portal right on top of it. The energy whirling around this thing wasn’t nearly at the same strength as the first one, which just made sense, this one was still charging. It had an eerie haze, a dark bloody wash that made my skin crawl.

Blowing out a stressed breath, I muttered to him, “For the record, I do not like cannibals, psychopaths, and men who don’t clean up after themselves.”

Lachlan chuckled and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Fortunate for me, I’m not any of those. What can you do about this, love?”