Killer Queen [Book 1]

Chapter 16

"They're coming back, so we don't have much time to talk." Deaton said as he finished putting some rubbing alcohol on my deep cuts, letting me squeeze his hand whoever I felt pain.

    He walked over to Scott and applied the rubbing alcohol to his side, patching him up. "You two will heal the same, just not as quickly...because of Derek."

    "Okay, how do you know all this? Actually, how—how do you know anything?" Scott asked his boss.

    Deaton put the rubbing alcohol away. "It's a longer story. What I can tell you is that I know about your kind. Your kind? I can help. This?" he pointed to the body on the table. "This is something different."

    "Well, do you know what did it?" I asked.

    He shook his head. "No, but the Argents will. And this is the crucial part—they'll have a record or book, it'll have descriptions, histories, notations, of all the things that they've discovered."

    "All the things? How many different things are there?" Scott asked.

    "They're here!" I grabbed onto Scott's hand and pulled him out of sight as the Argents entered the clinic, walking up to Deaton.

    " ...I'm starting to think I need to buy a more prominent "Closed" sign." Deaton said.

    The voice of Gerard answered. "Hello, Alan. It's been a while. Last I heard, you had retired."

"Last I heard, you followed a code of conduct." Deaton fired back.

    "If you hadn't noticed, this body is one of ours." Argent said.

    "I did. I also noticed the gunpowder residue on his fingertips, so don't assume I'll be swayed by your philosophy just 'cause I'll answer a few questions."

    "He was only twenty-four." Argent replied.

    "Killers come in all ages." Deaton reminded him.

    "All ages, sizes, shapes...it's the last one that concerns us." Gerard said.

    "How about you tell us what you found?" Argent suggested.

    Deaton moved them to the body. "See this cut? Precise. Almost surgical. This isn't the wound that killed him—this had a more interesting purpose."

    "Relating to the spine." Gerard guessed.

    "That's right. Whatever made this cut, it's laced with a paralytic toxin potent enough to disable all motor functions. These are the cause of death. Notice the patterns on each side?"

    "Five for each finger." Argent said.

    "For each claw." Gerard corrected.

    "As you can see, it dug in, slashed upward, eviscerating the lungs and slicing through the bone of the rib cage with ease." Deaton told them.

    "Have you ever seen anything like this before?"

    "No."

    "Any idea at all what killed him?" Argent asked.

    "No. But, I can tell you it's fast, remarkably strong, and has the capacity to render its victims essentially helpless within seconds."

    "If you're saying we should be cautious, we get it." Argent said.

    "I'm saying you should be afraid—be very afraid. Because, in the natural world, predators with paralytic toxins use them to catch and eat their prey. This prey wasn't eaten. That means whatever killed him only wanted to kill him. In fact, killing may be its only purpose."