Free Deadly Descendant by Jenna Black

stared at a piece of paper in front of him. I had a feeling he wasn’t really seeing that paper, that he was actually lost in thought, but he didn’t jump when I rapped on the door. He merely turned his chair toward me and raised his eyebrows in inquiry.
    I made a show of looking up and down the hall before stepping cautiously into the room. “Is Emma around?” I asked. “Do I need to get us a chaperone?”
    As attempts at humor go, it wasn’t my best. The corners of Anderson’s mouth tightened, and he dropped his gaze like he was embarrassed.
    “I’m really sorry about that,” he said softly, and I wanted to kick myself for being a smartass. Marital troubles weren’t funny, not to the people involved. As a private investigator, I’d seen more than ample evidence of the fact.
    I sighed and invited myself in, dropping into one of the chairs in front of Anderson’s desk like a good little employee.
    “You don’t have to apologize,” I assured him. “I’m sorry about the dumb joke. Sometimes I joke when I’m uncomfortable.”
    Anderson leaned back in his chair. “I’m sorry that Emma and I have made you uncomfortable. What the Olympians did to her seems to have brought out every insecurity she’s ever had. She’s having a hard time coping, and I’m not making things any easier by fighting with her.”
    I didn’t think Anderson had anything to apologize for. From what I could tell, he was acting perfectly reasonable. It was Emma who was the loose cannon, but even with my low relationship IQ, I knew better than to say that.
    “She wants me to declare war on the Olympians,” Anderson said. “She can hardly think of anything but revenge.”
    “To tell you the truth, I’ve been kind of expecting you to declare war myself. I thought the only reason you weren’t fighting them was that they had Emma.”
    He shook his head. “That was just one reason. I hate Konstantin, and I hate the Olympians, and I hate everything they stand for.”
    Was it my imagination, or were there literal sparks coming from his eyes?
    “But there are a lot more of them than there are of us,” Anderson continued. “And with their stable of brainwashed Descendants, they have far moredeadly weapons than we do. If I start a war, then it’s highly likely all my people will end up dead. It’s not a chance I’m willing to take. Now, if I could get Konstantin somewhere nice and private where there were no witnesses, that would be another matter altogether.”
    His smile was fierce and chilling, and I was glad that menace was not directed at me. Then the smile faded and the menace with it. “I know Emma understands my reasons deep down, and I know she’ll come to her senses as her psyche heals. But for now, she’s not thinking straight.”
    Personally, I didn’t think Emma was the one who wasn’t thinking straight. I’m no shrink, but I felt pretty convinced that her trauma had caused permanent damage, that she would never go back to being the wife Anderson remembered. Assuming that wife had ever existed in the first place.
    “But you didn’t come here to talk about me and Emma,” Anderson said. “What can I do for you?”
    “I have an idea for how we might—and I emphasize might —catch our killer.”
    “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”
    “You know how I told you last night the murders all occurred near cemeteries?”
    He nodded.
    “They’ve also all occurred on Friday nights.”
    “Hmm,” Anderson said, his eyes narrowing. “I’m beginning to see where you might be going with this.” And based on the way he was looking at me, he didn’t like it.
    Still, I forged on. “Seeing as this is Friday, I have a strong suspicion our killer will strike again tonight and that the attack will be somewhere near a cemetery.”
    Anderson nodded. “Probably true. But do you know how many cemeteries there are in the area?”
    “A shitload,” I agreed. “But when you look at a map, you can see that each attack occurred