by Nova Archer
“Hence, the poster and book we found under her mattress in her room,” Caine added for the benefit of the room.
Nodding, Eve continued. “I went through that entire laptop, and didn’t find one note asking Lillian to meet anyone. Just lots of email flirting between her and vamploverX. We still haven’t confirmed for sure is Xavier is vamploverX.”
Caine turned to Jace. “What do you have?”
“Trace came back on the fibers and the wire. Fibers are from a burgundy carpet, a vehicle carpet, number 4305 Oxblood to be exact, option for G10 Chevy vans, from 1983 to 1995.”
“What do our suspects drive?” Caine asked Mahina.
She flipped open her notebook. “A red 2000 Pontiac GrandAm, and a silver Toyota Turcell. No other vehicles registered to either of them.”
“And the wire?”
“Standard copper wire. Used in anything from electrical generators and motors, electrical wiring, electronic goods, home heating systems, computers, motor vehicle radiators and air conditioners.”
“Also copper jewelry,” Lyra pointed out.
“Was the vic wearing any copper jewelry, Givon?”
The coroner shook his head. “No, just a diamond pinkie ring and a silver ankle bracelet.”
“Where does Xavier work?” Caine asked.
“Bartender at Howler, 2617 Moonglow Road,” Mahina read off her notes.
“And Gnash?”
“Dishwasher at the same place.”
“And they’re both guitarists in Crimson Strain,” Eve added. “They play electric guitars.”
Caine nodded. “Good call, Eve.”
“But neither one owns a van,” Jace pointed out, obviously eager to debunk anything Eve suggested.
“Maybe we’re looking at the wrong band member?” Lyra offered.
Caine glanced at Mahina. "Do we have enough to pull the others in?"
She flipped open her notebook again, swiftly turning the pages. "I’m sure I can make a good argument for it."
"Let's talk to them all to make sure we have all our bases covered. Maybe someone is using this Xavier as a front."
After shutting her notebook, Mahina nodded. "I'll track them down. I'll call when I have something for you."
"Thanks Mahina," Caine said.
With a slight tilt of her head, the detective left the staff room to complete her task.
When she was gone, Caine walked the room, pondering their evidence and where it led. He glanced at each member of his team as he strolled past. "Okay what do we need to know?”
“We need to find the van,” Jace remarked.
“Yes.” He nodded at Jace. “See if we can get access to the cameras at the checkpoints. We can at least narrow it down to when she had to have been brought in. We can go through the footage. Maybe we'll get lucky and see the van."
“On it.”
"Now that I know the right symbols." Lyra glanced appreciatively at Eve. "I can track down which ceremony they were doing and why. I have some contacts that dabble in the dark arts. Maybe they've heard something.”
“The drugs in her system,” Givon offered. “Where did they come from?”
“Good question, Sil.” Caine walked the room again. “V can be bought on any side street. It’s the Heparin that’s the key here. There haven’t been any pharmaceutical thefts of break-ins reported, so that leaves us with someone with access. This is a big list that we don’t have access to. So we’ll have to move on from there for now.”
"I guess I'll keep at the communication between vamploverX and Lillian,” Eve offered.
He nodded to her. “You’ll have your access by the end of the day.”
“Good.”
“But before we move forward, we need to recharge our batteries. Everyone here has been working twenty-four hours. If you can do it, take a few hours go home, shower, eat, relax, and then come back with fresh eyes and brains.”
Jace rubbed a hand over his face and pushed away from the table. He nodded to Caine as he passed toward the exit. “I’ll see you in a few.”
Lyra pushed to a stand. “I’m going to go feed my cat, and make some calls.” She smiled at Eve then left the staff room.
When everyone had filed out of the room, Eve remained seated on the sofa. She glanced at Caine and raised a brow in question.
“I’ll drive you to your hotel.”
Standing, she nodded. “Okay, I could probably do with a shower.”
As she brushed past him to go out the door, he scented her. He didn’t think she needed a shower at all. She still smelled like plums and vanilla, an odor he was coming to crave as much as the oxygen in the air.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Pink and orange streaked the eastern skyline as the SUV rolled through the deserted city streets. As the buildings rolled by, Eve put a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. She didn't want to admit it but she was bone tired. She hadn't worked this long in the last two years of crime scene investigating. But she'd never been on such an important case before. A career-defining case.
When Caine pulled the vehicle up to a posh elegant hotel, she was even too weary to be impressed anymore. The doorman opened her door and she slid out. Before she could consider it, Caine was out of the vehicle and getting her bag out from the back.
"Thanks." She reached for her suitcase. He held it firm.
"I'll get you settled."
She gave him a brief nod. "Okay."
She had to admit she was pleased that he was going up with her. At this point, she didn't know if she could even handle her key card.
As they stepped into the posh lobby, Caine took her arm and steered her toward the elevators. She didn't protest. She was thankful for his guidance. Another time, she would've insisted of carrying her bag and going her own way, but not this morning, not in this place.
The elevator doors opened and they stepped in. Caine pushed the button for the eighth floor. As the elevator ascended, Eve stared straight ahead, her eyes hot and sore. Lifting her hand, she rubbed at them. She was getting more tired by the minute. The drone of the elevator didn't help matters.
With a happy ring, the doors opened and Caine stepped out. She followed him down the wide hall to her room. He slid the key card down the door lock, and pushed open the door. Turning, he handed her her bag.
"There you go."
As she reached for the bag, her fingers brushed against his. Instantly her gaze lifted and met his. Heat swirled around her and she had the sudden urge to nuzzle into the crook of his arm and let him steer her into the room. Was that the vampire lure working? Or was it more? She didn’t care at this point.
"Would you," she paused and cleared her throat. "Would you come in and wait for me? I'd only like to shower and eat before heading back."
Without a word, he nodded and swept his arm toward the door, motioning for her to enter first. She did and she was acutely aware of his presence behind her as he followed through. He shut the door behind them. The sound of the lock engaging clanged in her ears like an alarm, warning her of the dangers ahead. But she ignored it. She was too tired to fight. After all that had happened so far, she didn't want to be alone. If she allowed herself the luxury of isolation, she just might succumb to it and break down. And she feared she wouldn't be able to get up and leave the room again.
Carrying her bag, she wandered through the large suite and found the bedroom. She set her bag on the bed, and then peered around the doorway into the sitting room. Caine was seated on the sofa, straight backed and stiff, looking as tense and unnerved as she was.
"I'll just jump in the shower."
He nodded. "Do you want me to order up some food?"
"Sure."
"What would you like?"
"Anything edible. Oh, and coffee. Strong black coffee."
"That I can do," he chuckled.
Eve wandered back to the bed, dug through her bag, grabbed her shampoo, and went into the bathroom. She quickly shed her clothes, opened the glass shower door and stepp
ed in, closing it behind her. As she turned on the water, tingles of acute awareness prickled her skin.
She closed her eyes as the hot water sluiced over her skin, instantly releasing the achy tension settled into her muscles. Rotating her shoulders, she let her head fall back. Water sprayed over her face, slightly relieving the headache that brewed at her temples. Turning, she soaked her hair. Reaching for her shampoo, she squeezed some into her palm and smoothed it down the wet surface of her head. As she massaged the soap into her scalp, she thought of the way Caine had reacted to the smell of her shampoo. While the bubbles cascaded down her skin, she wondered if he would be able to discern it on her flesh. Even now, she considered if he could smell her as she washed. Was he thinking of her naked and wet?
Grabbing the soap, Eve slid it over her shoulders and down her arms, reveling in the feel of it slicking her skin. Gradually she made her way over her torso, across her belly and up to her breasts. While she rubbed the soap over her nipples, she again thought of Caine's hands and the way they would feel on her flesh, pulling and pinching her peaks between his strong fingers. She gasped as clear images of Caine kneeling at her feet his fingers possessing her body and his mouth claiming her breasts slammed into her head.
The thoughts were so intense she snapped open her eyes and glanced down to make sure it was not real and only imagined. That he hadn't snuck into the bathroom unaware, stripped, and climbed into the shower with her.
She rubbed at the glass shower door to see if he was standing in the doorway watching her. His presence had been so powerful, she swore that he was right next to her, looking at her, touching her. But as she peered through the steamed glass door, she saw that she was still alone.
Sighing with relief, Eve shut off the water, wrung out her hair, and opened the shower door. As she stepped out, she reached for a towel and wrapped it around her body. She took another and wrapped her hair in it on top of her head. When she glanced in the mirror, she noticed how flushed her face was. Turning on the tap, she splashed cold water onto her face. Maybe the icy freshness would jolt her from her thoughts.
She found the more she was around Caine the more she liked and respected him. He was a fantastic investigator, with a keen eye for detail. And he led his team with elegance and dignity. She had an affinity for men in authority. Her father had been a police officer, a decorated sergeant, before he succumbed to cancer. Her lovers were often men of rank and power. Even in the academy, she had ongoing fantasies for one of instructors. Male power was a commanding aphrodisiac for her.
She liked how Caine never needed to use his power, it was just there hovering around him like a hot, swirling aura. Everyone could feel it, sense it, some could probably even see it, and therefore there was never a need for him to brandish it.
Shutting off the tap, she took her hair down out of the towel and rubbed it dry. She would run a comb through it, and put it back in a ponytail. Plain and simple. Maybe if she dressed down, it wouldn't feel like Caine was devouring her from head to toe. Ever since they had shared that incredible kiss in the alley, she could sense a purely sexual vibe from him. One that he was constantly fighting.
After hanging up the towel, Eve wandered back into the bedroom, rummaged through her bag, took out a T-shirt and khaki pants, dressed, and smoothed her hair back into a simple ponytail. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped out into the sitting room.
Caine tried not to stare as Eve walked out of the bedroom. He had been sitting on the sofa thumbing through a coffee table book of landscape photography forcing his mind away from the fact that she was in the shower, naked and wet, and vulnerable. He could taste her vulnerability on his tongue.
Before she reentered the room, he had sworn to himself that he would not look at her in that way. That she was tired, and stressed, and not an object of his increasing libido.
Then she walked into the room, looking so alluring, he had to fight to remember his earlier vow.
So instead, he turned his attention to the food that room service had wheeled in only moments ago. With flair, he removed the two metal coverings. Steam erupted from underneath. "I didn't know what you liked for breakfast, so I ordered everything on the menu."
Laughing, she neared the carts, plucked a plump, ripe strawberry from the fruit tray, and took a bite. He couldn't help but watch the way she chewed, and the way the juice stained her lips crimson. He wanted to lean forward and trace the line of her sensuous mouth with his tongue.
"Oh God, this tastes heavenly," she exclaimed as she collapsed onto the sofa. "I usually survive on coffee and a bagel with cream cheese."
Enjoying her obvious pleasure, Caine wheeled the carts to the sofa so she could reach without standing. "Then this should just about kill you." Chuckling, he joined her on the sofa, snatching a ripe piece of cantaloupe for himself. "I'm a tea and eggs on toast man myself. Anything that's quick but gives me energy to last twenty-four hours or more."
Popping the rest of the fruit into her mouth, she eyed him. "You seem like a tea guy."
"Oh, so I’m pompous, uptight and cold am I?"
Grapping another strawberry, she said, "Hmm, more like reserved, refined, and—" she paused in thought, "—pensive."
"Pretty words for the same thing, I think."
Eve grabbed the plate of pancakes, poured syrup on them, and set them on her lap. "I don't think you're cold or pompous."
"Uptight?" he asked as he dug into the scrambled eggs.
After she took a bite of pancake, she nodded, a wry smile forming on her lips. "Maybe a little."
He smiled. "Well, thank you."
"You're welcome." She took another healthy bite from her plate.
For the next half hour, they ate in silence, enjoying the piles of food that Caine had ordered. He couldn’t remember the last time he'd enjoyed a meal so much. He felt at ease with Eve. Like he didn't have to project an air of power or authority. He could let down his guard a little and relax. She seemed to feel the same. He could sense her easiness with him. That pleased him greatly.
After they were done devouring the food, they both leaned back against the sofa, contented. Eve turned to look at him. "I don't think I've ever eaten that much. Not since I was a kid."
"Me either. Actually, I don't think I've ever eaten that much."
She smiled at him, but he could tell she was pondering over something she wanted to ask him. "You can ask me," he said.
"What?"
"Whatever it is that is causing those lines between your brow."
She rubbed at the spot Caine indicated. "Hold old are you exactly?"
"I’ve been a vampire for 254 years." He sighed, resting his head back on the sofa cushions, mimicking her position. "But I was born in 1711."
She stared at him for a long while. He wished he could read her mind and find out what she was thinking. For the first time in so long he could barely remember, he worried what another person thought of him. Could she ever see past the vampire and see the man inside?
“You look pretty good for being close to three-hundred. Hardly a wrinkle in sight.”
He laughed. “Thank you. It’s the coenzyme Q10 I take every day.”
She joined him in the laughter. It felt good to laugh. Caine had always believed that it was a person’s ability to laugh even in the direst circumstances that kept them sane.
“What’s it like?” she asked after her laughter had faded. “How often do you need to-,”
“Feed?”
She nodded.
“I take blood once a week. I don’t drink from a person anymore. I get mine straight from a bottle. O positive packaged and shipped to a Necropolis grocery just up the street where I live.” He put his feet up on the coffee table as he continued to talk. “Vampires have a high pain tolerance, have superior strength, reflexes and hearing, prefer the dark to the light, although it doesn’t burn us as portrayed in movies and books.” He put his arm into sunlight streaming through the balcony doors. “You see?” He set his arm down agai
n at his side. “We can eat garlic, wear silver and worship at any church and we live long, long lives. We’re not immortal. We can die. It just takes a lot more to keep us dead.”
“Sounds almost idyllic.”
He turned his head and met her gaze. He wanted her to know that it was not as perfect as it seemed. “The hardest part is seeing the people you’ve come to love die long before you’ll ever see the inside of a grave. I have suffered many losses in my life. Love is not easy.”
She reached across the sofa and touched his arm, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how truly lonely that must be.”
She released her hold and drew back her hand. Caine wanted to reach out grasp it and set it back on his arm. A tingly sensation had started where she had touched him. He wanted that feeling to spread through his whole body.
“You never married?”
He turned his head and looked up at the ceiling, not wanting Eve to spy the pain in his eyes. “Once. Long ago.”
Sensing he didn’t want to discuss it, Eve remained silent. He wanted to thank her for that, but he too stayed quiet, words suddenly stuck in his throat. It had been over seventy years since the death of his wife, Amanda, but the pain still lingered inside, shielding his heart from all emotion. Closing his eyes, he sighed, not quite ready to release that barrier.
Beside him, he could feel Eve’s uncertainty from his silence. He imagined that she was thinking hard about his reasons, deducing all manner of motives. Regret washed over him that he couldn’t yet give them to her.
Turning his head, he opened his eyes and looked at her. She too had her head resting on the back of the sofa, and her eyes were closed. Her face was serene; the lines usually furrowing her brow were gone. He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, battling the urge to touch her there. To feel the steady rhythm of her heart.
