Ravenheart (Crossbreed Series Book 2)

by Dannika Dark

  My shoulders sagged. It was late, and the alcohol was doing what it always did at the end of a long evening. “Good night, Christian.”

  He picked up his coat and shook it out. “Next time you decide to moonbathe on the rooftop at midnight, do me a favor and put your jacket on.”

  I swung open the door. “Only if you put on your hat.”

  After our drinking game, I headed back down to my hotel room, kicked off my shoes, removed my weapons, flung my bra across the room, and collapsed in a heap of exhaustion.

  Hours had passed, but part of me couldn’t fall asleep all the way. I kept drifting in and out of consciousness—one minute blissfully asleep and the next hearing a noise in the room.

  Had there not been a convention there that night, we would have rented separate rooms. But the only availability was a single room with two beds, which suited me just fine so long as Christian stayed on his side of the room.

  Something moved across my back. “What are you doing?” I murmured against the pillow.

  “Don’t be alarmed, I’m just covering you up. I’ve never seen a woman eat that many bean burritos, so I’m preparing for the aftermath.”

  I laughed tiredly, staring at Christian’s empty bed to my left. “That’s good to know. For a minute there, I thought you were being nice.”

  “Wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation.” He fell onto the other bed, pillows propped behind his back. The TV light flickered against his bare chest in the dim room.

  He almost looked like a regular man. In the low light, I couldn’t tell how flawless his skin was or how eerily black his eyes were. The short beard shadowed most of his face, and his dark eyes danced with the light from the television. Maybe now he seemed like less of a monster because I knew something personal about his past. A blind sister. He must have looked after her. What kind of man was Christian before he became a Vampire? I imagined him standing on a green hill, staring at the sea with the sky reflecting in his blue eyes, his hair tangling in the wind. If his father was illiterate, they must have been poor. Perhaps farmers. I pictured him in tall boots with suspenders holding up his dirty trousers. Was that how they dressed? Based on what he’d told me, my guess was that he’d left Ireland in the late eighteen hundreds or early twentieth century. I smiled when I imagined him plowing a field, mud spattered across his bare chest and a mule braying at the end of a rope.

  “Enjoying the view?” he asked.

  “I’m sleeping.”

  “I can hear your lashes scraping against the pillow each time you blink.”

  “Is that more interesting than the couple screwing next door?”

  He reclined his head. “She’s faking it.”

  I turned over on my side and tucked my arm beneath my head. “Where did you go earlier? I woke up and didn’t see you.”

  “Out for a walk.”

  I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “What do you think of the murder?”

  “I think it’s peculiar,” he said flatly.

  “How so? This is just us talking.”

  He scraped his teeth against his bottom lip. “Even a Vampire who drinks too much has a habit of licking the wound to heal it. The fact that the perpetrator hasn’t is the only way they’ve been able to link these crimes.”

  I scratched an itch on my neck. “Have you ever heard of a Breed serial killer? I mean a legit one. Not the crimes of passion or someone with bloodlust, but a bona fide killer who does it for pleasure.”

  “That’s why the elders want to approve the younglings brought on—same with the Mageri. They don’t want anyone with mental instabilities running around. But there are ancients who were made for entirely different reasons. Fierce warriors. Men designed to kill in battle. It was how makers protected themselves. Imagine how those men are adjusting in today’s world where their services are no longer required. I’m not saying it’s common or not, but killers don’t usually dispose of the bodies in a public place.”

  “You know what’s been bothering me?”

  Christian finally turned to look at me. “What’s that?”

  “She was missing a shoe. I didn’t give it much thought at first. I guess I assumed like everyone else that it fell off in the struggle or when he dragged her body, but I can’t stop thinking about it, and now I know why. She had lace-up shoes. The kind that fit snugly and are hard to remove. You can’t just tug them off; you have to loosen the laces by pulling them from several of the holes.”

  “Why would he take off her shoe?”

  I rolled onto my back. “I don’t know. Maybe he undressed her and then lost the shoe when putting her clothes back on. Maybe she kept diamonds hidden in her shoe, or maybe he was in her apartment during the attack when she was taking off her shoes. Maybe what bothers me is that no one mentioned it.”

  “Aye. But you can hardly draw any conclusions from that.”

  I sat up and stripped away my blanket. “You can’t ignore anything at a crime scene. He put her right next to the concrete so he wouldn’t have to walk in the dirt and leave any footprints behind.”

  “Then why not leave her on the concrete?” Christian rose from the bed and strode toward the dresser to lean against it.

  “Where were the other bodies found? Why do the authorities want us to look at new cases but not take the old ones into consideration?”

  “Perhaps they’re afraid one of them might not be related and will lead us on a wild-goose chase. That’s how it works, Raven. We take what we’re given. And it’s better if we work a case with clues we can see with our own eyes.”

  “So we have to sit around and wait for him to kill again?”

  “It’s not like we have a choice.”

  I peeled off one of my socks and tossed it to the floor. “Did you notice anything unusual?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. Nothing worth mentioning.”

  “Tell me.”

  When he shook his head, I got up and padded across the carpeted floor. I folded my arms to let him know that I wasn’t going to let the comment slide.

  He crossed his feet at the ankles. “Not a speck of blood in her hair. Even the most skilled Vampire tends to spill a few drops, especially if there’s a struggle. She was fair, and the way the tresses were spread out, I could see every strand that would have touched her neck. She must have cooperated, but if he drank her to death, then that’s a man who knows how to keep his mouth latched the whole time. Most of us like to take a breather.”

  My hangover made it difficult to tell time using my Mage gift. “How long was I asleep?”

  “It’s nearly dawn. We need to head back before they send out a search party.” He turned away from me and strolled off. “I’ll be in the shower.”

  Christian slammed the bathroom door, and the faucet squeaked on. Half my brain was still thinking about the crime while the other half was paying attention to the sound of Christian’s pants hitting the floor. I’d heard stories about how cops took the job home with them, and I began to understand why. Some things are impossible to shake from your mind, especially when it comes to an unsolved case.

  My reflection in the mirror was jarring. Disheveled hair, my red tank top wrinkled, my jeans unbuttoned, and I had raccoon eyes thanks to sleeping in my makeup. Everyone back at the house was going to get the wrong idea if I didn’t clean myself up. It looked like I’d been having hot sex for the past twelve hours.

  After I made up the beds, I gathered his shirt and jacket and draped them over the chair. A piece of candy fell out of one of his coat pockets. Christian didn’t care much for eating food, but apparently he didn’t have an aversion to candy since he was always nibbling on something. Last week it was toffee. I glanced at the green wrapper, unable to read the Japanese writing. Just as I tucked it back in his pocket, his phone vibrated. Curious as to who would be calling him this time of morning, I pulled it out to see if he had a password lock on it. He didn’t, and the message was from Viktor.

  Another murder? “We need to go,” I called
out, scanning the dark room for my shoes.

  When Christian opened the bathroom door, a shower of light poured out, followed by a cloud of steam.

  I spotted my missing sock, and as I sat down to put it on, Christian emerged from the bathroom like a wet fantasy. Water glazed his body like icing on a hot donut. His skin glistened, water dripping from the ends of his wet hair and racing down his flushed chest. The white towel was barely holding itself together around his waist.

  I managed to get my shoe on without gawking at him. “We have to go. Viktor said they found another body, and he wants us to meet them there.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “You should put a lock on your phone.”

  Christian lifted his shirt off the chair and strode in front of me to the mirror. I couldn’t pry my eyes away from his strong back and the shape of his ass beneath the towel.

  Get it together, Raven!

  “I hate washing up only to put on dirty clothes,” he muttered. Christian slipped on his thin cotton shirt, and I kept waiting for that towel to drop from all his twisty movements, but it clung to him like a chastity belt to a virgin.

  Only there was nothing virginal in the way he looked at me. His eyes burned with secrets, and when he licked his lips, I felt the invitation just as surely as I saw it.

  He tossed me my jacket, and I stood up to put it on. Christian did the same, his long black jacket swirling around him as he slipped his arms into the sleeves, until finally it covered everything but his legs below the thigh.

  Then the towel dropped.

  Christian swaggered back to the bathroom. Did he just chuckle?

  Perturbed, I looked away and widened my eyes when I realized my bra was draped over the TV. I stuffed it into my coat pocket and then switched off the television.

  As I neared the bathroom entrance, I peeked in and saw him leaning over the tub, his foot propped on the edge while he tied his laces.

  “You look like something the cat dragged in,” he said, peering over his shoulder.

  “If you were a gentleman, I might have gotten to use the shower first.”

  He stood up and gripped the doorjamb over his head. “Perhaps next time we should share—that way nobody gets left out.”

  I glared.

  Christian winked. “Just trying to think about the environment and water conservation.”

  “Exactly what did you say to that woman at the bar that made her a willing victim?”

  He grinned wolfishly. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come closer to find out.”

  “No, thanks. I’m just curious what kind of words of seduction you use to catch your prey. Probably telling them they taste like the Dead Sea or something romantic like that.”

  Christian gave me a bemused look. “Why would you say something like that?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It was the first thing that popped into my mind. Am I getting warm, Romeo?”

  “Ice cold. Like your nipples. Perhaps you should get decent and put on a bra.”

  “If a bra makes you decent, then you need one more than I do.”

  Chapter 8

  I rested my head against Christian’s back as we sped down the road on his Ducati. I wasn’t tired; I just missed the feeling of riding a motorcycle. He could have driven us to the bar in his Honda, but I had a feeling he chose the bike to see how terrified I was of motorcycles. Instead, it brought back good memories of a different time in my life. He steered the bike around Viktor’s black van, which was parked inside an alley for privacy.

  It was dawn, and despite the chill in the air, I could tell it was going to be a sunny day for a change. As soon as Christian parked near the wall, I swung my leg off the bike and unlatched the earflaps on my fur-lined hat. It was warm, albeit ugly. Christian had left his hat behind at the motel.

  He lifted the collar of his coat and adjusted his black shades. “You look like a psychopath in that hat.”

  I tugged his coat and pulled him closer. “Embarrassed to be seen with me?”

  He took a slow step back.

  Gem strolled up with a wry grin. “Let me guess who won the bet.”

  Christian branched toward the men gathered up ahead, and Gem put her arm around me. “I hope you ordered everything on the menu.”

  I snorted. “And I ate most of it. Where’s Wyatt? I thought he would be here with his new friend.”

  She lowered her arm and clasped her hands behind her back. “He doesn’t like to be around freshies, and he thinks bringing John here will be a distraction.”

  “John?”

  She wiggled her fingers in front of her face. “John.”

  “Oh. But if John exists, he might be able to see the victim’s ghost and ask questions.”

  “That’s what I said, but Wyatt told me that memories are different for the dead. Few ever stay behind, and he said the worst time to run into them is right after they die. They’re too confused and agitated to know what’s happening. And if someone’s questioning them, they might end up missing the train to wherever and get left behind. Anyhow, he thinks it’s too risky and doesn’t want to lose our only possible witness. I don’t agree, but what do I know?”

  I scanned the alleyway. “And Blue?”

  She pointed at the falcon sitting on the ledge of the building. “She’s our lookout. I’ll be over there if you need anything.” Gem skipped ahead of me, averting her eyes from the dead body to her left as she met up with Claude at the end of the alley. It looked like he was searching for clues.

  Niko approached me, concern brimming in his expression. A wisp of black hair had sprung free from his hood and was getting whipped around by an indecisive breeze. “You don’t seem well.”

  “Hangover.”

  He nodded, his crystal-blue eyes twinkling against his handsome complexion. “There’s no residual energy near the body,” he said quietly. “I don’t think this is where the murder happened.”

  “What does the detective say?”

  “I didn’t disclose my findings with the detective. We’re not to partner with him; he’s only involved because the higher authority assigned him to the case. I’ll discuss my assumptions with Viktor later. The authorities only deal with facts, not speculation.”

  “Gotcha.”

  When we reached the body, Shepherd was kneeling with her hand in his, and the contrast of her alabaster skin against his was dramatic. He had a light tan, and it made the scars on his left hand more noticeable. His leather jacket creaked as he shifted his position. Shepherd resembled a soldier with his buzz cut and tattoos, but holding that dead woman’s hand, he looked compassionate.

  I crouched down by her feet, hugging my legs with my chin on my knee. She was dressed nicely—not the kind of outfit you wore if you were going to work or running to the store for a jug of milk. She had on a lovely white cashmere sweater and a knee-length skirt. I could still smell her perfume.

  Viktor tapped the detective on the shoulder. “Let’s talk privately and let them finish their work.”

  Christian circled the body, hands in his pockets.

  Niko knelt beside me. “What do you see?”

  I lifted my head. “She’s a blonde.”

  “Does that matter?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. She looks like a natural blonde, like the other victim. Most women dye their hair to get it that color. It’s flaxen.”

  “I don’t know what flaxen is, but it sounds uncommon.” Niko touched the concrete with his fingertips. “The energy on her body wasn’t enough to give me any insight.”

  I looked down at her feet. One had on a black heel, and the other shoe was missing.

  Niko stood up. “I’m going to follow Gem’s trail and see if they found anything.”

  “Tell them to look around for a woman’s shoe.”

  When he left, Christian took his place, keeping his voice low. “He’s a tidy little wanker. A penny for your thoughts.”

  “She’s wearing heels. If someone was dragging her bo
dy or transporting it in a car or a van, then both shoes would have come off. There’re no straps holding them on.”

  “So we have ourselves a Cinderella killer?”

  Shepherd flashed us a look and let go of her hand. “What are you two talking about?”

  “Can you sense anything?” I asked.

  He rose to his feet and studied her with vacant eyes. “Same as the last. Too mixed up and no trace of emotion in the immediate area. The son of a bitch doesn’t want to leave any clues.”

  I called him over with a crook of my finger. “Do me a favor and touch her shoe.”

  He knelt down. When he glanced up at me, his features hardened. Shepherd had serious bone structure going on. “Why?”

  “I have a theory that the killer put the shoe on her foot after he laid her down.”

  With a reluctant sigh, Shepherd reached over and touched the shiny heel. “Wait a minute, there’s something stronger here. Fucking bastard.” He let go and wrung his hands.

  “What is it?”

  “Pride. I’m not picking up on uncontrolled emotions.”

  Christian rubbed his face with one hand. “Anything else?”

  “It’s not anger…” His eyes searched the ground. “More like dissatisfaction.”

  I was impressed with how a Sensor could decipher the differences in emotions.

  Detective Glass returned. “The cleaners are on the way. We need to wrap this up before the bar gets busy. It gets messy when humans call the cops. Is there anything you want to add to my report that I haven’t already found?”

  Christian rose to his feet. “Why don’t you give credit where credit is due? This isn’t a case of rogue Vampires on a rampage. This is the work of one man—a very clever man—who’s selecting these women. They’re special to him.”

  Glass’s blond eyebrows sloped down. “What makes you say something like that?”

  “I’m afraid we’re not at liberty to discuss our findings, especially when we’re being shooed away from the crime scene.” Christian stalked off with an arrogant swagger and got on his bike.

  Viktor waved his hand and stole Glass’s attention away. “Ignore him. He’s still new to the team.”