"So?"
"Uh," Reeves dove into the conversation, and Arthur and I turned to look at him. "I think what she's trying to say is that what you're asking is like someone asking the Queen of England to eat a sandwich off the sidewalk."
"Yeah." I turned back to Arthur. "That."
He shook his head and raised his hands. "Fine. Sorry I asked. So if you don't think it's human, what is it?"
"There are numerous possibilities," Lenorre said calmly. "It could be human-like. It could be animal-"
"Wait, human-like?" Arthur asked.
"It could be a shape-shifter," Lenorre answered, "Elf, fey…"
Arthur actually grunted. "But you could find out what it is if you tasted the blood?"
I snatched the swab out of Lenorre's hands and held it in front of his face.
"You want to taste it?"
"No."
"Then stop it," I said. "You asked for help. I brought help. This"-I raised it closer and he took a step back-"is not a vampiric lollipop. Get off it, Arthur."
I dropped the swab in the trash sack.
There was a noise, a noise like someone was about to choke. I looked at Arthur. He laughed, loud and hard, laughed until he was clutching his sides. Reeves chuckled too, as if the laughter were contagious.
Lenorre met my gaze. The corner of her mouth curling slightly.
"What?"
Arthur took a deep rasping breath, "Vampiric lollipop," he said. "I will never in my life forget that."
I frowned.
"Where are you going?" Arthur asked.
"Away," I said, pausing only briefly in the doorway.
He caught up with me in the hallway. "No, you're on a mission."
I looked at him, going wide around the bloodstain. "I want to see something."
I moved past the entertainment center with its Greek statues, past the onlooking cops and forensics team, through the dining room, and finally into the kitchen. Marble counter top, sink in one corner, dishwasher, fridge, gas stove… I searched the pale green linoleum floor tile by tile. I opened a door that I thought led outside, but instead, the door led into a laundry room. A top load washer and dryer were placed beneath high cabinets. I moved around the washer and dryer, scanning the floor and opening the cabinets. Still, I found nothing. I opened another door, but this one led into the garage. My night vision took over as I scanned the wall, then I hit the light switch to my right. The garage was flooded in a soft yellow glow. There was a workbench on the far wall. A line of hooks on the wall held a shovel, weed-eater, what looked like a sprinkler, a broom, and a mop. I sensed more than saw Arthur and Lenorre standing in the doorway. They watched me in silence as I rounded the wooden workbench. A ladder hung on its own lone hooks on the opposite wall.
"Have they checked to see if anything is missing? Potential weapon?"
"They're looking into it," Arthur said.
The gray stone floor had a ghostly spot, like a faint memory that had been cleaned one too many times from a car that had leaked oil. I followed the walls, peeking behind boxes, an old stereo. There, in the corner between the door I'd come in and the door I was certain led into the backyard, was a large bag of dog food.
"That." I pointed.
Lenorre looked. Arthur kept staring at me.
"Arthur," I said.
He looked. "A bag of dog food?"
I went to the backyard door then unlocked and opened it. The locks worked fine, so I knew the killer hadn't used the back door, unless he had a key. "How do you think the perp got in? What's your entry point? Exit point?" I asked, peeking out the door and spotting an old chewed up green water dish. There was another black dish next to it. The dish had some food in it, but not much. It was hard to tell at a glance how long it'd been sitting there.
"There aren't any signs of forced entry at any of the doors or windows. We think the perp was let in," Arthur said.
"So probably someone the vics know," I mumbled.
Arthur peered out the door with me. I stared at the water dish just outside the square of concrete. "You think this case ties into the murder?"
"Yeah. The symbol on the body and above the bed is the signature."
I scanned the backyard. If I really wanted to see the backyard and all of the details, it would be best done during the day. I could tell there was a garden of some kind hugging the wooden fence at the far end of the yard and two smaller garden sections marked along the side of the house by the door, but with the season the gardens were barren. I leaned back in, flicking the switch for the back porch light. I stepped onto the concrete slab just outside the door. In the dried dirt, there were several unmistakable paw prints that belonged to a very large dog.
"You've got your work cut out for you."
He looked at the prints. "You think the blood belongs to a dog, their dog?"
"It's a possibility. I don't see any footprints. You should send your boys out with a cadaver dog or two and search the neighborhood."
Arthur glanced at Lenorre. "Is that your way of telling me we can't use Vampira?"
I intervened before Lenorre could speak. "Call me when forensics gets the test results back on the blood. Also, figure out where their car is. I didn't see a car in the driveway when we pulled up, and there's sure as hell not one in the garage. Find the car, find the dog. We'll go from there. Check the house again with a handful of cops and a few people from forensics," I said. "It wouldn't hurt. You should look for any addresses or phone numbers lying around." When Arthur gave me a questioning look I added, "We need to find out if they belonged to a coven. If they did, we need to bring them in for questioning."
Arthur closed the notebook he'd been scribbling in and grinned at me as he slipped it into his pocket. "Are you trying to get away?"
"It's getting late," I said blandly. "I'm fairly certain Lenorre and I have found everything we're going to find." I glanced at her and she offered a confirming nod.
Arthur said, "I'll call you when we get the results back."
"Call me if you find their coven," I said. "They may be solitary. You need to find out."
"Solitary?"
"Witches that practice alone," Ackerman spoke from inside the garage.
Arthur held his hands out. "Give me your gloves," he said, "I'll toss 'em. It's not like you actually touched anything."
I peeled them off. "You sound disappointed."
"It's fun when you get grossed out." He smiled faintly.
"I don't get grossed out very often."
He laughed. "I could name a few times."
"If I remember correctly, you're the one who puked when we found that old man's body off of 104th two or three years ago."
"That's because it smelled like shit," he said. "And if I remember right, you were green in the face too."
"So," I said, walking through the door. "I held it down. That makes all the difference, Kingfisher."
He touched my shoulder on our way back through the house. I slowed my walk.
"One day, Kass, you're gonna toss your cookies at a crime scene."
"If I do, Arthur, I'll be sure to toss them on you."
Lenorre made a noise that I think was supposed to be a stifled laugh.
We left the scene in silence. I thought of a million questions to ask Lenorre and discarded them all. I leaned over and turned the radio on, letting my thoughts percolate. As far as crime scenes went, this was by far one of the strangest I've seen.
I stopped by my apartment on the way home to get a clean change of clothes. I was going to take a shower once Lenorre and I got back to her place. As a rule, I always shower after a crime scene, if only so I feel like I've washed the horror off myself. I packed an overnight bag and tossed it into the backseat. Lenorre watched me as I slid in behind the wheel.
"Kassandra," she said my name and I stopped buckling my seat belt in mid-motion.
"What is it?" I asked. "Do you mind stopping by the club?" I frowned, because in that moment all I wanted was a shower. At the look
on my face she added, "It will not take long." I sighed, clicking my seat belt on. "Fine," I said, "But why?" I put the car in reverse and looked over my shoulder. "There is a certain matter to which I must attend." I put the car in drive. "That tells me a whole lot." She gave a mysterious smile. "It tells you what you need to know."
*
The club Lenorre owned had once been a hotel. I don't know what it used to be called, but now it was The Two Points and the only vampire club in Oklahoma City. Lenorre and I walked through the lobby and the double doors that led to the converted ballroom. The song, "Vampyre Erotica," by Inkubus Sukkubus played over the sound system as we passed a small group of gothly clad folk chatting amongst themselves.
It was slow right now, but in an hour or two the place would be packed and difficult to walk through. Then again, I'd never noticed Lenorre having any difficulty navigating the floor, whether it was packed or not.
I recognized one of Lenorre's vampires whispering orders to a young blonde who was wearing a crimson satin vest cinched over a black blouse. The girl walked by on her way out of the ballroom and Stanley's blue, Siamese cat eyes met mine. It wasn't just his eyes that made him stand out. It was the outfit he wore-a black leather vest and a pair of white skinny jeans and boots. Unlike the other employees, Stanley didn't wear the red on black uniform.
His labret piercing caught the light, twinkling beneath his lower lip as he mouthed the words, "Evening, lovely," and blew me a kiss. If I didn't think he was batting for the boys' team, I would've raised my brows at him. As it was, I shook my head and silently thanked Lenorre for her presence. Had I been alone, I had a feeling Stanley would've approached, and I wasn't in the mood to socialize.
Lenorre led the way up the winding stairs, through the lounge area to one of the employee rooms where I could wait for her. The room was spacious, with candles on stands lining each of the four walls. Two couches created a small sitting area.
I made myself comfortable and tried not to feel irritated. I hate waiting for people, but after the crime scene, I took the opportunity to relax. You tend to miss a lot of sleep when you're dating a vampire. In an attempt to somewhat balance my schedule with Lenorre's, I didn't go into work until well after one in the afternoon on most days. The time of the year really depended on how late I was going to be up. Since Yule was quickly approaching, the nights were getting longer and the days shorter. Which meant I was going to be up later if I wanted to spend as much time as I could with her.
The arm of the couch had enough padding to use as a pillow. I curled my legs under me, rested my head in the bend of my elbow, and covered my face with my other arm. The room was completely silent; not even the sound of a heater whirred to life. The walls were blessedly soundproof. Sleep, my body said, and I didn't disagree with it.
*
A massive black and white Great Dane gazed at me from where it lay in the grass. I reached out to pet the dog and it whimpered. Its fur was slick and wet where I touched it.
"It's okay," I murmured. "You're okay." The sky overhead was dark as I continued to pet the dog, trying to offer it some form of comfort. What was wrong? Why didn't this feel right?
The grass was high like it hadn't been cut in several months. The dog whimpered when I stroked its stomach.
Its furred body moved like some great hand was following mine from the inside, and I jerked my hand away.
There was so much blood it looked as if I had dipped my hand in red paint. Something rolled again beneath the dog's fur. I watched as it moved and pushed against the skin, threatening to break free.
The dog gave a loud cry of pain as its skin split with the thick sound of things that shouldn't be torn, tearing.
A wave of maggots, blood, and thicker things spilled out across the grassy ground. Horrified, I scrambled to my feet.
"Kassandra," a woman's voice rode the night breeze.
"No," I said, looking at my hand in horror and shaking my head. "No."
"Kassandra!"
The world wobbled in a dizzying spin. For a moment, the dream superimposed reality. The golden brown eyes of the wounded dog began to fade, replaced by a startling sea-green.
"Kassandra?" Eris's face was swimming in my view. Her sable hair fell around her pale skin in untamed waves down her body. Her fingers were digging a little too roughly into my shoulders.
"Are you awake now?" she asked.
I tried to move and realized she was sitting in my lap, pinning my legs with her weight.
"Yes."
Gently, she used her hands on my shoulders to guide me back down. The movement put her weight more solidly in other places.
"Eris." The breath caught in my throat, but I managed to say her name.
The last time I'd seen her, she hadn't understood why, if I was attracted to her, I wouldn't share blood with her. I thought my reasons were kind of sound, considering.
She touched the side of my face tenderly. "You were having a bad dream."
The dress she wore was black and covered in so many straps and buckles I probably would've gotten tangled up in it just trying to put the damn thing on. Two straps crisscrossed high on her chest, creating a black X and disappearing at the back of her neck like a halter. My gaze fell to the fitted bodice of the dress and the gleaming white mounds of her breasts.
"Eris," I tried again, making my voice a little firmer. Her skirts pooled around my lower body, bustled by tiny black buckles that extended, dangling from her hips. The buckles raised her skirt, leaving her slender thighs bare.
Eris's night job was as a dominatrix and she looked every inch the role.
She looked down at me and a smile tugged at the edges of her mouth. The expression seemed to say, "Go ahead; take a good look."
A little voice in my head said Push her off, and whether it was my conscience or the wolf, I didn't. I didn't want to touch her. Somehow, that seemed like a bad idea.
Eris watched me, smiling and calm, knowing the effect she had on me. She was a vampire; how could she not? Every subtle betrayal of my body, she caught. My pulse, the change in my breath, things I couldn't hide. I lay there, completely still, and utterly unsure what to do.
Eris didn't seem to want to climb off me anytime soon.
She gave a low laugh. "Oh, Kassandra," she said, cupping my jaw in such a delicate grip that one might not have thought she had the supernatural strength to inflict quite a bit of damage, even to a lycanthrope.
A little flicker of nervousness went through me.
"You're straddling me," I said, forcing my voice to sound smooth and even and less like she was unsettling me.
"So I am," she smiled softly, stroking my hair.
I wanted her to stop touching me.
I closed my eyes, because it was easier than looking at her. "Get off."
"Mmm, is that what you want me to do?" she asked.
The voice in my head went from saying Push her to Oh shit.
"You know what I mean, Eris. Get off of me."
She moved and I released the breath I'd been holding. Her hips swayed forward as she drew herself up the length of my thigh.
The movement brought her dress up high enough that I could see the edge of her black lace boy shorts. I thanked the Gods the slacks I wore were a thick material.
"You look a little uncertain, Kassandra."
"Eris," I tried for what seemed like the thirteenth time. "I'm serious."
Her mouth was suddenly close to my neck.
"Tell me you're not thinking about it," she whispered in my ear. "Tell me you don't want it and I'll stop."
"I don't want it, Eris. Get off me."
Her tongue traced the curve of my earlobe, sending tiny jolts of sensation down the back of my neck and arms.
She moved against me again and this time the muscles in my thigh went rigid.
There was way too little clothing between us.
Desire and fear made my throat tight. My heart gave a fierce thump against the side of my neck. I felt the pulse
beating between my legs, a distant echo.
Not good, so not good.
Why was her smell so intoxicating?
I curled my hands into fists and dug my nails into my palms. The pain helped me to focus, but my entire body was thrumming with energy, her energy. The promise of it swept across my shields like something soft and gentle.
Where the hell was Lenorre?
Her hands moved, threatening to raise both my jacket and blouse.
"Say yes," she whispered, staring intensely at me. "I can smell your desire, Kassandra. Say yes to me. All you have to do is say yes."
I drew a slow breath, trying to steel myself against that coaxing breeze, against the weight of power and will in her gaze.
"Eris," I whispered, "stop."
Her hands slipped under my blouse. She splayed her fingers across my waist and her energy was stronger, like cool water. The muscles in my stomach jumped at her touch.
"Why do you fight your desire?" she asked, looking perplexed.
"Eris," Lenorre's voice dripped command.
Eris's hand flexed a second before she drove her nails into my skin.
I cried out, my spine bowing. Her energy hit me like a thrust, rough and sudden, pleasure and pain. A wave crashing against me and threatening to take me under.
Shit.
Her voice was as cool as her power. "Yes, Countess?"
"Leave Kassandra alone, Eris," Lenorre said, but instead of sounding angry she sounded tired.
I shuddered as Eris's nails tickled my skin.
"One day," she whispered, removing her hands from my stomach.
"Don't get your hopes up," I said.
"We don't have to do anything you consider to be cheating." She touched my cheek and I flinched.
Eris stood and I turned to meet Lenorre's silvery gaze. If there were any thoughts behind Lenorre's eyes, I couldn't read them. She was too contained.
Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Eris reach out to touch me.
I caught her wrist. The borrowed blood in her veins made her pulse leap against my fingertips.
"Stop it," I said. "Seriously, stop fucking with me." I meant it.
[Kassandra Lyall Preternatural Investigator 03] - Bloody Claws Page 6
