Almost three in the morning in Montana and the half-moon lit the open plain, reflecting off the nearby lake. Normally, he would’ve stopped to appreciate its beauty. But the odor of evil had turned it into an ugly night. Natalia studied the body of a teenage girl several yards behind him. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old. A mere child. He looked up into the starry sky. After a strict upbringing in Orthodox Christianity, he finally begged the question, was there a God? “La tot ceea ce există este un scop,” his mother used to say. “To everything there is a purpose.” He turned toward the girl’s body, her hot pink shirt out of place in the dark wilderness. Maybe his faith was lacking, but he just couldn’t see a higher purpose in this. They’d called the police, who would likely check her for sexual assault, something he was better off not knowing. The bloody mess the Slayer left behind was bad enough. Natalia hadn’t made a sound since they’d found the girl.
