Opia

Chapter 8

Dean knew as soon as he saw Joe's face that his night was about to take a sharp, downward spiral. Dean had been tied up talking to the Atlanta Police Department when his right hand man had stepped away to take a phone call. Whatever he had found out was not good.

Once he finished his conversation with the officers, he motioned Joe over to his SUV and they both climbed in.

"Who?" Dean asked as soon as Joe's door was closed.

"Kyle Bort. Happened overnight. His wife found him when she got home from work this morning. Shot to the heart."

"She call the police?"

"Yeah. Same as usual. They're wary because Kyle was a prober. Once the cops left, Sam checked out the house and asked Mrs. Bort a few questions. He said she was pretty torn up."

"Obviously."

"She didn't give us much to work with."

Dean resisted the urge to punch something. Kyle Bort was one of those truly great guys. A pediatrician who spent his days trying to heal sick kids. One of those doctors who would move heaven and earth to bring a smile to a patient's face. None of the probers deserved to die, but especially not ones like Kyle.

"We've gotta end this," he said.

"At least we got another killer of the streets today."

"Good, but not the big catch."

The prober killer they had found in Atlanta was a mad man with an arsenal of firearms despite a felony record. Since he had placed himself in a position to get in trouble with the law, Dean had simply turned him over to the police. Everyone thought he liked going in for the kill, but that wasn't true. Dean knew that a man had to pay a price for every life he took, something he had learned in his past life, the one before he had become a prober. If he could stop bad people in a way that didn't end with them dead, that's the way he would go.

Joe was right. He should have felt some satisfaction over getting another prober hunter, and in a perfectly legal way. But news of Kyle's death made it impossible to feel triumphant.

The killings had been frequent enough without the entrance of the new shooter, the one Artis was certain had a direct link to Darj. Now it was way out of control. With the way the probers were being taken out, they'd be extinct within a year. It was only a matter of time before his own number was up. Before they'd all be laid out with a slug to the chest.

Something had to give.

"We're changing tactics," Dean said as he started the car.

"To?"

"Artis thinks our latest shooter is with Darj and I'm getting a strong feeling that she's right. So while she's on the doc's tail, we're going to dedicate full resources to helping her out."

Joe reached to pull on his seatbelt, a look on his face that showed how unhappy he was with the idea of supporting Artis.

"You really think she's going to be the one to find Darj?" he asked. "She won't even use her eyes, which makes her pretty much useless."

Dean grabbed the front of Joe's t-shirt and yanked him closer, feeling a simmering fury that was clawing its way to the surface. Joe's eyes betrayed his fear.

"Artis is more powerful than you think she is," Dean growled, "whether she chooses to use that power or not. And I don't think I need to remind you of what your hunting record is compared to hers." He pushed Joe away. "If we start talking trash about our own, what good are we? This is the time to stick together, not grow apart. You got it?"