Majanka Verstraete - The Sign of the Serpent

A Study in Shifters - Book 1

The Sign of the Serpent - Book 2

The Wolf of Baskervilles - Book 3

Chapter One

B eing the great-great-grand daughter of Sherlock Holmes made me no stranger to death, so when the stale air of decay lingered on my tongue, metallic and cold like a slab to deposit corpses on, the scent was horrible but familiar.

My hands shook so badly I almost dropped the ring, the Sigil that Balthazar Rollins had pushed into my hands seconds ago.

Thirteen dead bodies. Thirteen people murdered by a person I had once considered my friend.

My heart hammered in my chest. The sight before me was so nauseating that even my jaguar gagged, ready to throw up. Being a half-jaguar, half-human shifter, I had just recently gotten back in tune with my jaguar side, but embracing those strong animal emotions made this even more harrowing.

The Sigil Bearerssome of the most powerful shifters in the world and the de facto leaders of the underground organization I worked for, the Conclavehad perished gruesomely, some of them with their faces slumped forward onto the table at which theyd held hundreds of meetings and debated for hours. Some of them had their heads in awkward angles, their eyes wide open, forever frozen in a glazed, dead look. One had even tumbled out of his chair altogether and lay on his back on the floor.

Then, there was Balthazar, a man Id always considered my enemy. A snake shifter I wouldnt trust for the life of me. The man who had, in his final moments on earth, just given me his Sigil, making me effectively a Sigil Bearer the only Sigil Bearer left, as of now. I swallowed hard, a lump in my throat making it hard to breathe. Balthazar had hated me for who I was: the great-great-granddaughter of Sherlock Holmes and the heir to the shifter throne, half-jaguar, half-human. Hed hated me and, still, hed given me his Sigil.

A stumbling noise and a gasp distracted me from the nightmarish scene before me. Saldor. The old man held on to the doorpost and clutched his heart as he took in the horror in front of him. What His voice came out as a squeak. What happened? He struggled to get the words out, each syllable choking in his throat.

I I didnt know what to say. Indra.

My supposed-friend and fellow agent of the Conclave, Indra Morreaux, had killed all the Sigil Bearers of the Conclave, a secret organization of supernatural creatures who solved paranormal crimes and protected the human world from ever finding out the creatures of their nightmares were all too real. The Sigil Bearers were the most powerful members of this organization and, in seconds, Indra had wiped them out of existence.

I wrapped my arms around myself as I stared at the dead bodies who had been living, breathing people seconds ago. I felt empty. Tears wouldnt come. Something inside of me was shattered. All I could do was shake. And I was so cold, as if I was walking on the Antarctic.

While my human-self was shaken, like all the heat of my body had evaporated in seconds, my jaguar-self roared in fury, the sound echoing through my mind. She sent me mental images of snapping Indras neck and mauling Mannix, my ex-lover-turned-nemesis until he was nothing but a bloody mess.

We have to sound the alarm. Saldor backed out of the doorway, disappearing into the hallway as he rushed to the alarm button. Seconds later, the alarm blared from all around us, a Silent-Hill-like sound that went through marrow and bone.

I had told him Indra was responsible, and true, she might have killed the Sigil Bearers, but the real mastermind behind all this was Mannix. Mannix, my ex-boyfriend, of sorts. Mannix, who had betrayed me by killing my cousin while trying to perform a messed-up ritual to summon a demon. Mannix, who had lured me into his trap once again by kidnapping one of my best friends, Roan Black. Mannix, who had forced me to choose between the lives of my mother and all the clan leaders, and that of my friend, Wyatt.

Ultimately, I had managed to save both my mother and Wyatt but being forced to make this impossible choice had wrecked me. Still, what he had done afterward or made Indra do was arguably even worse.

A small army of Conclave agents stormed in, alarmed by the blaring sound shattering my eardrums. One of the agents, a girl with fiery red hair and a small posture, stopped dead in her tracks. Her mouth opened in a wordless scream, and then she rushed past the dead Sigil Bearers, straight at me. Or more accurately, straight at Balthazars dead body.

Uncle! she cried out, her voice rising over the alarm. Uncle! She pushed me out of the way, and I flinched as I stepped back.

The girl grabbed Balthazars shoulders and shook him, trying to wake him from a sleep no one could ever wake from. Seeing the girl cry over the body of a person I used to hate, with more and more Conclave agents streaming in, made it all the more real. Indra had killed them all, and I shouldve stopped her when I had the chance. I shouldve figured out her plan before she wiped the Sigil Bearers out of existence.

You did this.

The words were sharp as a knife, and they came from the girl kneeling in front of Balthazar.

Indra The sentence died on my tongue.

The girl shook her head, her eyes drowning in tears. You shouldve stopped her.

Even though the room had become so crowded agents were nearly tripping over one anothers feet, it seemed as if this girl, Balthazar, and I were the only ones in it. I know, I said eventually, nodding. I shouldve stopped her, but I didnt see her true nature, not in time. I paused, taking in the grief-stricken face in front of me that reminded me so much of my aunts face when I told her my niece was dead. Another murder Id been too late to stop. That time, I had misjudged Mannixs intentions. Now, I had misjudged Indras. Never again.

I will stop her, I said, curling my hands into fists. I will catch her, and I will bring her to justice. I promise you.

My jaguar growled in agreement.

Chapter Two

I d never seen the morgue so crowded beforecrowded with dead bodies, that is. Keres Morant, the forensic specialist of the Conclave and a spider shifter, was also present, striding from one corpse to the other on her eight long black legs. She sometimes used her front legs as arms, lifting up sheets and inspecting bodies. The chelicerae on her face now a black mass with yellow, translucent eyes - snapped every few seconds, the sound echoing through the stale room.