Antoinette glanced at her again. “What’s the deal with you and Oberon?”
Kitt’s features softened. “He’s like a brother, really. We’ve known each other since we were kids. His Family lived near ours and sometimes did jobs for my father; they treated him differently because he was too small, so he used to hang out with Dylan and me. When we were exiled from the Pride, Oberon came with us and joined the Department with Dylan while I attended medical school.”
“Wow, ‘small’?” Antoinette gripped the wheel. “I’d hate to see the rest of his Family.”
Kitt laughed. “He’s still a head shorter than his father and brother and is considered the runt of the Family. Ursians tend to be larger, and the DuPrie Family is made up mostly of grizzlies, plus his father is polar bear.”
Antoinette couldn’t help smiling; Kitt had that kind of laugh. It made her look very young and carefree.
“Thank you for taking my mind off what happened back there,” Kitt said.
“I’m sorry Cerberus attacked,” Antoinette said, feeling more than a little embarrassed.
“It wasn’t his fault, with all that confusion and raw emotion flying around, I’m not surprised.” Kitt turned to her. “Anyway, can you pull into that convenience store? I need to pick up something.”
Antoinette got the impression Kitt didn’t want to speak about what went on between her and Raven yet, so she nodded and pulled the car over to the curb. The felian dashed into the store and emerged a few moments later with a large bag of candy.
“That’s some sweet craving you have there,” Antoinette said as Kitt climbed back into the car.
“It’s not for me.” She buckled her seat belt and smiled. “You’ll see.”
Fifteen minutes later Antoinette pulled the cherry red Camaro into the alley behind the building belonging to the Department of Parahuman Security, which housed the Department’s Office of the Chief Parahuman Medical Examiner. Kitt had hoped to use the fire exit at the back as a way to enter unnoticed, since she no longer had access to the underground staff parking lot, but smokers, who often propped the door open while they got their nicotine fix, were nowhere to be seen. Tonight, her luck was holding fast—and it was all bad. They’d have to go in the front.
Before entering the building, she felt the weight of the chocolate candy in her jacket pocket and stopped. “Just follow my lead, okay? And pray Stanislavski is not on tonight.”
“Who’s Stanislavski?”
Kitt sighed. “Just the most uptight, officious, anal M.E. you’ll have the displeasure to come across. Trust me—if he’s on tonight, we’re screwed.”
Antoinette nodded. The first hurdle greeted them as they entered the impressive building of faux marble and glass. Like most Department offices, it was open twenty-four hours and a few people buzzed around the foyer. The unsmiling security guard manning one of the two metal detectors between them and the elevators waved them forward. She wasn’t used to entering the building this way, and had totally forgotten about them.
Christ, I hope Antoinette doesn’t have a gun.
Kitt went first and passed through without a problem. She turned and held her breath as Antoinette did the same.
Nothing. No telltale beep stopped them and they made their way to the elevators with little difficulty. Kitt’s back prickled as she waited for him to wake up and challenge them. When the elevator doors closed, Kitt started breathing again.
The guard Kitt had hoped for sat behind the security desk in the basement suite of OCPME and looked up as they walked in, his face almost splitting in half when he saw her. “Hey, Doc! I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”
At least something was finally going her way. She took the bag of peanut butter M&Ms from her pocket.
“Looking good, Murray.” She dropped the candy on the counter and gave him her biggest, sweetest smile as she ran her eyes over his obscenely bulging biceps. The buttons down the front of his rayon uniform strained to contain his heavily worked pectoral muscles. “How’s my favorite security guard? You look like you’ve filled out a bit more since last I saw you.”
The huge human grinned with delight. “I have a competition at the end of the month so I’ve been doing extra workouts.” Murray’s eyes dropped to the packet of his biggest all-time weakness.
“I’m sorry I brought these now; I knew they were your favorite.” She scooped up the bag of candy. “But you won’t want them now.”
His bottom lip stuck out like a small child who’d just had his candy taken away. “Since you brought them for me special,” he said, eyes fixed on the bright-colored packaging in her hand, “I’ll just lift a few more weights.”
“Okay, if you’re sure,” she said and handed him the bag. “By the way, who’s on duty tonight?” she asked as nonchalantly as she could manage while her heart hammered away in her chest.
“Dr. O’Connor,” he replied, his eyes flicking from the candy on the counter to her and back again.
Thank God.
“I just need to pick up a few things I left in the kitchen and I thought I might say hello while I’m here?” she said, trying to keep the relief from her voice.
The wannabe Mr. Universe reluctantly dragged his eyes away from the confectionary and swallowed—the collar of his uniform straining around his bull neck. “You know I can’t let visitors back there, Dr. Jordan. And since you don’t work here anymore . . .”
“Come on, Murray, it’s only been a couple of weeks since I left.” She pushed the M&Ms a little closer. “Can’t you make an exception? Just this once? I’ll vouch for my friend here; she is another lecturer at the academy.”
“Really? I’ll have to see some ID,” he said to Antoinette.
Kitt swallowed. Shit. She should have thought of that.
“Sure,” Antoinette said and reached into her pocket. “Will my NYAPS faculty ID do?”
Murray looked at it and nodded. “All right, Doc.” He snatched up the phone with the other. “Only for you.”
Balancing the handset between his ear and shoulder, he dialed, then mumbled a few brief words, and after a moment hung up. “Dr. O’Connor will meet you in the blue room. Actually, she’s expecting you.”
“Thanks, big guy,” Kitt said.
As she reached the corridor, she turned in time to catch the guard tearing open the candy packet. “Oh . . . and Murray? . . .”
The guard looked up, guilty pleasure written all over his face.
“You never saw us here tonight, okay?”
He frowned and nodded as he stuffed a handful of candy-coated peanutty goodness in his mouth.
Kitt led the way to the blue room, so called for more than its color; it was also the area people waited in before identifying their loved ones lying on a cold, hard slab in a room beyond, and where they returned to shed their tears after viewings.
“I thought we were in for it when he asked to see your ID,” Kitt said. “Lucky you had that card. Is it counterfeit?”
“No, I really am a lecturer at NYAPS.” Antoinette held out the card.
Kitt glanced at the credentials and read, “ ‘The Martial Arts Training Department’—so, you are a member of the faculty.”
“We all have legitimate jobs. Well, most of us. Tones takes care of the Academy computer systems, Bianca Sin is the head of thaumaturgy, Cody Shields is in admin, and Oberon’s head of security. Raven is the only one flying under the radar—mainly because of the . . .”
“Price on his head,” Kitt finished for her.
Antoinette looked away.
“He should never have come back,” Kitt said. “My father has increased it to one point five million dollars. Every cutthroat and assassin will be looking for him.”
“That’s why Oberon gave him a place to stay,” Antoinette said and smiled. “But from what I’ve heard, Raven can take care of himself.”
The diminutive form of the female medical examiner appeared in the doorway at that moment, looking slightly harassed and more than
a little pissed off. However, her features softened as she crossed the floor toward them.
She tossed her glossy black hair over her shoulder and shoved her hands into the pockets of her white medical coat. “Well, I see ya just couldn’t keep away from the fecken place?”
Chapter 4 - Stone-Cold Dead
Tez O’Connor looked so innocent, like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, until she opened it. Then the Irish-accented expletives flowed freely.
“Seems not,” Kitt said with a smile. “And you look like you’ve had better days too.”
The M.E.’s shoulders hunched and the frown deepened. “I’ve fecken reporters ringing every other minute looking for details, and that fecken gobshite, Agent Roberts from VCU, has been threatening my job if anything leaks to the papers”—she screwed up her face—“but that’s not your problem. What can I do for you?”
“Actually, I was hoping you’d let us take a look at the body from the NYAPS campus— This is Antoinette Petrescu; she works with Oberon.”
At the mention of the ursian’s name, a smile split the M.E.’s face. “How’s my tall, dark, and shagable?”
“As cantankerous as ever,” Kitt replied.
“Hmmm, just the way I like him—all growly,” Tez said with a cheeky wink. “Though I’m still not taking his calls for fecken standing me up last week.”
Oberon and Tez had a tumultuous on-again, off-again relationship.
“Well? . . .” The medical examiner tilted her head. “You coming or just pissing about?”
“Thanks, Tez,” Kitt said.
“Just thank your lucky stars that fecken eejit Stanislavski called in sick tonight or you’d be havin’ to deal with him instead of me,” Tez said as she led them down the hall.
The stringent scent of antiseptic cleaning products could never completely cover the underlying corruption of death and decomposition that permeated the autopsy suite. Two of the three stainless steel autopsy tables were occupied. The body on the far table was a dark-skinned female with the graying pallor of the not-so-recently deceased. Their body of interest lay on the center steel bench.
Antoinette moved closer to the dead boy. “I know this kid.”
The chest gapped open and the hideous mask of fresh death marred the youthful face. Kitt knew that, having once been the most prolific Venator in the trade, the newly turned Aeternus Antoinette had probably seen much worse, though right now it was hard for Kitt to try to imagine what “much worse” could be.
The main reason she had left the medical examiner’s office was because she’d started glimpsing her late husband’s or brother’s stone-cold features on the faces of those she performed autopsies on. All the death was finally getting to her after ten years in the OCPME.
But Antoinette was right—there was something familiar about the boy.
And Oberon was right to wonder if there was any similarity to the other murder she’d worked on a couple of months ago. From where she stood, it practically looked like a carbon copy. Though, before she decided one way or another, she’d have to see more.
The Aeternus leaned in close. “I have seen him somewhere before.” She glanced from the body to Kitt. “I just can’t remember where.”
“Would you believe he’s the son of the fecken ursian ambassador from Russia?” Tez said.
“Holy shit,” Antoinette said.
Suddenly it came to Kitt why she recognized him. He’d appeared in the papers a few weeks back with his father at the announcement of a new library wing for the Academy. The ambassador had ceremonially broken the ground on the construction because he was donating a large sum to the library fund.
“That’s why the VCU are trying to keep it all under wraps for now.” Tez stepped closer to the autopsy table. “I’ve finished the prelim exam and taken samples. Kitt, it’s almost identical to the boy you autopsied from the last murder at the campus. This time we have an ursian male, nineteen years of age and post awakened. As you already know, the first victim was a felian from a prominent Chicago Pride and around the same age.”
Antoinette placed her hands on her hips. “So, we may have a racially motivated killer.”
“That’s for you to find out. I just do the autopsies,” Tez said. Heaving the body onto its side, she pointed to the wide fleshy gash in the lower back of the neck. “He was disabled by severing the spinal column between the C6 and C7 vertebrae with a short, wide blade. It was a precise and accurate strike, rendering the victim immediately paralyzed without killing him. The blade was about an inch and a half long and a half-inch wide.”
“Some sort of small pocketknife maybe?” Antoinette asked. “Or something with a detachable blade?”
“As you can see by the cauterization around the wound, the blade was silver.” Tez turned and picked up a plastic evidence bag from the instrument cart near the table. A small silver blade covered in blood was sealed inside. “This was taken from the neck wound, and matches the first victim.”
“So the killer wanted to keep the boy immobilized but alive until he’d finished,” Antoinette said. “Cold.”
Tez turned the body onto its back, resting the head on the special block. “The muscle and tissue were cut here with a knife. You can see the remnant of the same mark as the other victim; it was first carved into the flesh over his heart before the chest was ripped apart—and I mean fecken ripped. Whoever did this used their hands to tear the rib cage open. There are only a few peripheral blade marks on the bone. But the worst thing is this. See where the flesh has started to heal around the edges of both the mark and the torn flesh? . . .”
“So he was still alive,” Antoinette said, her jaw dropping open and horror creeping into her eyes.
The boy looked so young. Kitt turned off her inner empathy and switched into medical mode. “He would not only have seen his heart removed but would’ve felt every excruciating second of it because of the precise placement of the blade.”
Antoinette shivered. “We’ll have to find out if there were any reports of screaming.”
“I found traces of fibers on the tongue and inside the nasal cavity that match the shirt found on the scene. The killer used the victim’s own clothing to gag him just like the first case,” Tez said. “He would’ve been completely and utterly, bloody helpless to call for help. Poor fecken gobshite.”
“So definitely looks like our guy,” Antoinette said. “Or girl, I guess. I can’t be sexist now, can I? But I think with the amount of strength it would take to rip open a rib cage, we’re probably dealing with a parahuman killer.”
“What about the blood work?” Kitt asked.
“Sent it away for testing with an order to rush it, but won’t see any results for days; pathology is backed up. Situation bloody normal.” Tez rolled her eyes.
“They have a lab at the NYAPS campus . . . you don’t happen to have a spare set of those samples do you?” Kitt asked.
“Feck me, of course I do. I took extra just in case. I know Oberon—he’s going to want this info ASAP.” Tez picked up an insulated lunch bag covered with cartoon characters and handed it to her. “I can’t give you the blade, but there’s a thumb drive in there with the crime scene photos and reports on any other evidence. Just do me a favor—if you do find anything interesting, give me the heads-up.” The phone on the wall rang. Tez spat a string of obscenities as she crossed to pick it up. “What?” she shouted into the mouthpiece.
“Shite!” Her face drained. “Try bloody stalling ’em for a few more fecken minutes.”
She placed the receiver back in the cradle. “Agent fecken Roberts has just turned up with a couple of his goons, demanding to see the body. If he catches you here with those samples, there’ll be hell to pay for us all.”
“You got a back way out?” Antoinette asked.
“Yes,” Kitt said. “And it leads into the alley where we’re parked.” She gave Tez a quick nod. “Thanks, and I’ll be in touch as soon as I have anything.”
The dark-haired human smiled.
“Cool. And tell that bear of a man he owes me fecken big-time. And I intend to collect.”
Male voices came down the hall.
“Quick, hide in there.” Antoinette pointed to the room across the hall.
“No, ” Kitt whispered. “This way.”
They quickly made it around the corner before anyone was in sight and Kitt led the way to the fire-escape stairwell at the back of the building.
“Won’t it set off the alarm?” Antoinette asked when they reached the fire door.
Kitt shook her head. “The smokers disabled it a while ago so they could sneak out for a quick cigarette.”
She pointed to a small wedge of wood stopping the door from closing properly. “Looks like someone’s out for a nicotine fix right now.”
“I’ll just check if the coast is clear.” Antoinette carefully pushed the door and popped her head out briefly, then signaled for Kitt to follow.
A light snow flurry dusted her eyelids with soft falling flakes. Antoinette stopped dead. She dropped into a crouch and touched the ground with her fingertips, then brought them to her nose.
“What is it?” Kitt asked.
“Fresh blood.” Antoinette stood and held a finger to her lips for silence.
She raised her nose to scent the air—her fangs glinting in the light on the wall.
All Kitt could smell with her frozen nose was the stench of rotting trash and the falling snow. But there was an aura of impending disaster she couldn’t quite shake. A noise that could have been a whimper came from the shadows further down the alley. And then a growl—no, more like a purr of animalistic pleasure. Maybe Antoinette should go alone; she was more equipped to deal with this.
“Necrodreniac,” Antoinette mouthed as she slipped off her suit jacket and popped the trunk.
“Help,” a weak female voice called out.
That tore it. Someone needed help—medical assistance. Antoinette couldn’t fight the dreniac and treat a human bleeding to death. “I’m coming too,” Kitt said.
Antoinette placed the samples from Tez to one side in the trunk and then lifted the floor in the center to pull a long-sheathed Japanese sword from its custom foam housing. “Stay here,” she growled as she fixed the sword strap over her shoulder and across her chest so the weapon was in easy reach.
Death’s Sweet Embrace Page 3
