A Ghost of a Chance: The Nightwatch book 1

Home > Other > A Ghost of a Chance: The Nightwatch book 1 > Page 8
A Ghost of a Chance: The Nightwatch book 1 Page 8

by Cassidy, Debbie


  “Something’s not right.”

  Tris tutted. “Now, now, don’t go jumping to conclusions. We’ll try again in a few hours. You know how busy he can get this time of year. He might be at the Academy. The new recruits for the Watch come in, there’s all the testing and the final Academy trials. He probably got caught up in those.”

  And didn’t I know it? Last I’d heard my cousin had signed up as a cadet in Nightwatch Academy. Surprising considering she’d never shown any interest in Nightwatch work. The Academy was built on a thinning, a breach that spilled into a dimension we still hadn’t fully explored. There was a fortress beyond it, the home to the Shadow Knights – supernaturals chosen to protect our world from the largest thinning in existence, one we’ve been unable to close. But hey, they built an Academy behind the fortress because what better way to train Nightwatch than to give them actual monsters to fight? It was a tough place, and there was no room for failure, and it was perfectly possible that Gramps had gone there.

  “He asked me to Call tonight.”

  Tris took the compact from me and popped it on the dresser. “Get dressed. You have to be at the station in an hour.”

  Oh, shit, yeah. I’d put my PJs back on to make her think I’d slept through, and guilt nibbled at me. I hated lying to her. In fact, this was the first time I’d ever done it.

  I dressed quickly in jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved polo shirt. My weapons belt fit snuggly under my leather jacket, and Tris, true to her promise, had cleaned off all the hugger spunk.

  Nice.

  “And if you happen to pass a bookstore …” Tris said.

  “I’ll buy you a whole pile of books.” I leaned over and hugged her tight. “I promise.”

  “Um …” She patted me on the shoulder. “Are you feeling all right, sweets?”

  Funny how guilt could cause overcompensation in other areas. “I’m fine.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I tucked the clutch bag into my jacket and backed out of the room. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  “Be safe, and if you can’t, then kick ass,” she trilled after me.

  “Will dooo.”

  I shut the door and walked straight into Henri’s chest. He gripped my shoulders to steady me, and I was hit by the scent of cologne. It was spicy and masculine, and what the fuck was my golem doing wearing cologne?

  “Hey, Kat,” Mai said from behind Henri. “Did you sleep well?”

  The reason for the cologne? Nope, no need to get riled. Smile. “Fine, thank you. Great. You guys off on patrol?”

  Mai slipped an arm through Henri’s. “Yep. Once we’ve met up with the locum weaver and made sure he’s sealed up the mausoleum breach, we’re hitting the south side, and once we’re done, we might even stop off at Scones and Brew, the twenty-four-hour diner on Reverie Street. They do the best blueberry muffins.”

  Which Henri couldn’t eat. But nope. No need to point that out because that would be catty.

  “Well, have a good one.” My smile hurt my face.

  “Kris is probably already in the van downstairs,” Mai said warmly.

  “We’re taking the other van,” Henri said. “They have containment cages in back just in case we pick anything up.”

  Which meant the Fiat was redundant for now.

  “Well, I’ll see you two later.” I turned and strode off quickly.

  Cologne … bloody hell.

  My golem wore cologne.

  Nope. Focus. I had a detective to charm.

  Chapter Nine

  Kris was lounging against the driver’s door with his arms crossed when I exited the house. He was dressed in a black fitted top and black jeans, hair pulled off his face in a man bun that left his cheekbones exposed, and you could cut lemons on those cheekbones. His mercury eyes were lightened by the contrast of his thick dark lashes. He pouted as I approached.

  “Aw, you didn’t have to get all made up for me,” he said.

  “Neither did you. Is that guyliner you’re wearing?”

  He pressed a hand to his chest. “Oh, honey, I’m just naturally beautiful.” He put on a feminine voice.

  “And I’m naturally impatient. Let’s go.”

  I climbed into the passenger side, and he slipped into the driver’s seat. His lean form curled easily into the car, and then his long fingers gripped the steering wheel, and why was I noticing his piano player fingers?

  “You like my hands?”

  I glanced up at his smirking face.

  “Do you play an instrument?”

  His smirk widened. “Oh, yes. Want to know which one?”

  That tone and that gleam in his eyes was pure suggestion.

  I found myself grinning back. “I bet you play really badly.”

  He let out a bark of laughter and then leaned in, so his breath brushed my cheek. “Play your cards right, and you may get to find out.”

  Even this close, his face was alabaster perfection, poreless and unblemished. He could have been a Nightblood. We were renowned for our flawless complexions. He really was something.

  My gaze dropped to his mouth, wide and perfectly formed for sarcasm. “I don’t play cards.”

  His tongue peeked out to touch the center of his top lip, and the simple action was surprisingly evocative. My stomach did a little traitorous flip.

  “It’s never too late to start.” His tone was husky now.

  “Is this your get-in-my-pants move?”

  He blinked at me in surprise and then sat back. “Not working?”

  The silvery light of the moon kissed his cheekbones lovingly.

  I patted his thigh, resisting the urge to give it an experimental squeeze because, ouch, that was some taut-ass thigh. “No, no, it was good but just a little cliché, don’t you think?”

  He winced. “You mean the whole lean-in-and-breathe-on-your-cheek-then-draw-attention-to-my-incredible-lips move didn’t work for you?”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “Sorry.”

  He started the engine. “I guess I’ll have to work on my game.”

  “Or, you could just not bother.”

  He swung the car around and down the drive. “Now, where would the fun be in that?”

  * * *

  The police station was a tiny building tucked in the corner of a dismal-looking street. A woman with cotton-candy hair and baby-doll lashes stood outside smoking a cigarette and wearing an outfit that left very little to the imagination. Kris pulled up a couple of meters away from the woman, and her gaze latched on to him, lips curling in a welcoming smile.

  She sauntered over, heels clicking on the pavement, and flicked the cigarette butt across the street.

  I nudged Kris in his cotton-covered bicep. “Do you know her?”

  “Not in the biblical sense, no,” he said. “Candy’s our eyes on the street. She’s also part nymph.”

  Well, that explained the bubble-gum hair.

  He wound down the window. “How you doing, gorgeous?”

  “Better for seeing you, Adonis.” Her voice was seduction and velvet.

  I found myself sitting up straighter in my seat. “I’m Kat.” Whoa. Where had that come from?

  Candy peered in through the window at me, her thick lashes sweeping down to kiss her cheeks in a seductive blink. “Well, hello there, new recruit.”

  And now I was grinning.

  Kris snort-laughed. “You might want to dial down the pheromones, Candy.”

  She did a breathy laugh, and then the I-want-to lick-her-face impulse faded. “Shit. That was some potent mojo.”

  She shrugged a slender shoulder. “It helps on the job. Most days, I don’t even have to touch anyone.”

  “Candy can make humans think they’re getting what they want,” Kris said.

  She was studying me carefully now. “Shouldn’t have had such an effect on a Nightblood though.”

  Shit. “Ah, but I’m weak-willed when it comes to pink hair and pouty lips.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind,” Kris
said.

  Candy snorted. “You not getting any traction with this one then?” She jerked her thumb in my direction and then smiled at me like a co-conspirator. “Good on you. Tell him to keep his slutty ways to himself.”

  Kris gasped. “Candy, you wound me.”

  Her laugh was a tinkling melody. “Business time. There’s been rumblings of a wolfy nature on the streets. A possible Moonspawn in town. Best to meet and greet and lay out the rules.”

  “Thanks for the heads up,” Kris said. His gaze flicked to the precinct. “Did you get called in again?”

  “You know how it is. They like to see my face at least twice a month, or they feel like they’re not doing their jobs. Being the only sexual entertainment in town can be demanding.” She stepped away from the car with a finger wave. “Toodles.”

  She clipped off, and then her pink heels and long legs vanished around the corner.

  I made to open my door, but Kris lightly touched my arm. “Wait.”

  The door to the police station swung open, lighting up the pavement in a rectangle of amber light, and a figure stepped out—tall and slender, with dark hair and dark skin. She glanced our way and then jerked her head in a get-in-here gesture.

  I arched a brow. “Kiran, I presume?”

  “Yes, and now we can go inside.”

  Chapter Ten

  The inside of the precinct was overly bright and pristine. A male officer tapped away at a keyboard at reception while another officer pinned stuff to the notice board. Neither looked our way as we entered.

  Kiran led us past the reception desk, down a corridor crowded with officers, and into a small office lined with filing cabinets and a single computer, desk, and chair. She closed and locked the door.

  “Where’s the ID?” she asked Kris.

  He looked to me. I pulled the clutch from beneath my jacket, retrieved the national insurance card inside, and handed it to her.

  She took it without a word, sat down at her desk, and began tapping away. A long minute passed, and then she grabbed a piece of notepaper, jotted down the information, and handed it to Kris.

  “I’ll keep hold of the bag.” She held out her hand. “We can get it to her.”

  I clutched it tighter. “If we’re going there, then we can just hand it to her.”

  Kiran looked to Kris. “Have you not explained how this works?” She didn’t give him the chance to answer before forging on with an explanation. “Kris will go with you to speak to the woman, and he will use his mojo to wipe her memory of the conversation, so you leaving her bag with her won’t work. She’ll be confused, and she’ll dwell on how the bag got back to her and end up disrupting the memory manipulation, and then she’ll question how you knew where she lived just from her national insurance card. That could lead her to us, and that would be bad.”

  Okay. “Right.” I handed her the clutch, and she popped it in her desk drawer.

  “You said her attacker was human,” Kiran said. “So, if this woman does fit the profile, this is a human matter, not supernatural.” She shrugged. “I’d interview her myself, but you saved her. She’s more likely to open up to you.”

  Oh, shit. She had no idea.

  “Of course,” Kris said. “We’ll report back, and then let you handle it.”

  Her smile was empty. “Humans always slip up. This could have been our perpetrator’s slip-up. Shame you didn’t get a good look at him though.”

  I winced. “Sorry.”

  “I’ll show you out,” she said tersely.

  We left her office and went out the same way we’d come in. She dropped us on the doorstep and ducked back inside.

  I stared at Kris. “Is she always like that?”

  He looked confused. “Like what?”

  I searched for the right words. “Economical and efficient.”

  He considered this. “I suppose she is. I’ve been working with her for so long I guess I don’t notice anymore. Kiran gets things done.”

  “And the whole look-away mojo she applied when she took us through to her office?”

  “A cloaking glamour to hide us from view. When we visit, we usually wait outside. She senses our presence and comes and gets us. I honestly don’t think anyone in that precinct has ever seen us.”

  “What does that make her?”

  “We don’t know, and neither does she. Jay seems to think she may have fey genes, but we’re not sure what those are. She’s definitely not a demon or Moonspawn, so we just put her down to tainted.”

  Demon, Moonspawn, Nightblood, bastardized fey, tainted, or plain human. These were the main breeds that made up our world. Then there were the rare breeds like kitsunes—shifters that ran alone. If you didn’t fit into any of those, then you were either a construct or … or like me, an unknown entity.

  “You have an address?”

  He unfolded the paper. “Yes, for one Meredith Wilson. And it’s only a few blocks away.”

  “Well, let’s go pay Meredith a visit.”

  * * *

  Gauntlet Street was a tiny cul-de-sac bordered by geranium bushes. The houses were all fenced, the gardens clipped and pruned, and at this time of nine-thirty p.m., every drape was closed.

  It was a quiet neighborhood, a nice neighborhood, the kind of neighborhood that attracted the monsters. They were drawn to the mundane for some inexplicable reason, and now my eyes were in scan mode.

  We parked at the head of the cul-de-sac and made our way in by foot. Meredith’s house was halfway down. Two garden gnomes guarded the porch, and a dream catcher hung from the awning, spinning lazily in the breeze.

  I looked to Kris. “How does your power work?”

  Kris hit the doorbell and tucked his hands into his pockets while we waited. “A little madness, a little mischief, a little bedazzle. Humans are very susceptible.”

  It was a Sunday night, so hopefully, Meredith was in.

  Kiran must have logged into the government records and the census to get the details. Neatly printed on the piece of paper she’d handed to Kris, it stated that Meredith was twenty-six years of age and lived alone, which made this easier. Kris would only have to employ his mojo on one person rather than a houseful of people.

  He rang the bell again, and after a moment the door opened a fraction, halting as it caught on a security chain.

  “Hello?” One spectacled eye peered at us.

  “Hi.” Kris drawled, leaning in slightly. His tone had dropped to a skin-tingling purr. “We just wanted to talk to you about the attack on Friday night. Be a love and let us in.”

  She blinked slowly and then pushed the door closed. The chain rattled, and then the door opened. Kris crossed the threshold, and I followed him into the cozy interior. Books lined the walls and were piled on the tables, and the smell of tomato soup filled the air.

  Meredith closed the door and tugged on the right cuff of her oversized PJ top. Her feet were encased in bunny slippers, and her hair, which had been styled into sleek waves on Friday night, was a mass of frizzy curls that haloed her head, but her gaze was fixed on me.

  “You … You stopped him.” She smiled tentatively. “I’m sorry. I was scared, and I ran. I should have stayed to help.”

  I shook my head. “It’s okay. I understand. Your survival instinct kicked in.”

  She frowned. “How did you know where I lived?” She made an “o” with her mouth. “You found my bag?” Then her frown deepened. “I didn’t have anything with my address in my bag.”

  She was sharp, this one.

  “Where is it?” she asked.

  Kris placed a hand on her shoulder. “Back at the station. It’ll be returned to you. Don’t worry, but that doesn’t matter right now.” His voice had gone all smooth and sultry again. “Right now, we need you to help us by answering some questions. Can you do that?”

  She nodded slowly, the same dazed expression coming over her face as before, except this time, her eyes lit up from within, and she licked her lips. “Hmmm, yes, please.”<
br />
  Oh, God. What kind of mojo was he pushing on her? I stepped into her line of sight. “Meredith. The man who attacked you. What did he say to you to get you outside the club?”

  “He said we could go for coffee.”

  “And then?”

  “He said there was a shortcut down the alley. He seemed nice. I don’t go out much. I didn’t know the alley was a dead end. I went with him.” She frowned and shook her head. “Have they caught him?”

  “They will.” Kris injected the same power into his words that had the hairs on the nape of my neck standing up.

  She nodded slowly. “Yes, they will.”

  “Did he say something to you in the alley?”

  She kept her eyes on Kris. “You look like a romance novel hero.” She reached up to touch his face.

  He gently grasped her wrist. “Why thank you, and I’d love to know what the nasty man said to you in the alley.”

  “Oh, he just wanted me to scream. He kept saying scream for me.”

  Kris shot me a confused look.

  That was it? “Anything else you can remember?”

  She shook her head. “He pinched me hard. He made me scream … Your hair.” She gazed at Kris with absolute adoration. “It’s so silky. Can I touch it?”

  The rider had wanted her to scream. But why? Something to do with the ghosts hovering overhead? Had he been trying to get a host for another rider? But that didn’t feel right. Okay, bank that thought for later reflection. Focus on profiling.

  I focused on Meredith even though her focus was on Kris. “Meredith, where are your parents?”

  “Dead.”

  “Brothers or sisters?”

  “None.”

  “Family, friends?”

  “Just me and my books. Books are my friends. I went to the club because Holly in To Find a Prince meets Sebastian at a club when she’s brave enough to go alone, and I thought … I thought I could too.”

  Until she’d been attacked. The poor girl. The poor lonely fucking girl with no one to care about her. “Damn it, she fits our profile.”

  Kris was busy trying to keep Meredith’s hands off him; she was going all out now with the stroking and the touching. Oh, God.

 

‹ Prev