by SF Benson
“Anything else?” Edwina asks, her hands on her hips.
I take a bite. The garlic, onion, and red wine mingle together while the richness of the sauce dances on my tongue. My eyes roll skyward, and a soft moan escapes my lips. This dish is sex on a platter. Sinfully delicious.
“No. This is what I needed.” I eagerly dig into the meal.
“Good.” Edwina sits across from me. A myriad of emotions cross her face, not one of them pleasant.
I sip my brew. “Edie, what’s up?”
She exhales, and her expression slides into a frown. “There’s chatter ‘round town about missing humans. The residents are talking about a serial killer.”
“Alec and Dante aren’t serial killers.” Panic swells inside me, threatening to ruin the good food before me. I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down. “What’s going on, Edie?”
Edwina wets her lips. “Turns out there are quite a few mysterious deaths. The chief of police is investigating the situation.”
I drop my fork. Edwina helped me cover up the bodies my sister accumulated. “Is this about Kelsie?”
“No, cher. This doesn’t concern her. These killings happened in the past two weeks, so she’s not responsible. Besides, isn’t ya sista out of the country?”
“She is.” Right after her graduation, Kelsie and Victor went to Europe. We talk on the phone regularly, but it’s been months since I’ve seen my sister. I shovel more food in my mouth. “You suspect the fellas, don’t you?”
“No.” Edwina folds her hands in front of her. “These slayings are heinous. Incubi don’t kill violently. Whoever’s committing these crimes is an evil, twisted son-of-a-bitch leaving bodies scattered like trash.”
I scrub a hand over my face. “Does Council know about this?”
“Hank was at the station. It’s only a matter of time before he reports back, if he hasn’t already.”
Hank Richards is a were-panther working within the Falls Creek Police Department and Council’s inside link. “Have you spoken to him?”
“I did. He said all of the deaths have a supernatural signature. Each one is unique though.”
“Are you saying a different creature killed each human?” My hand goes for the coffee, but I don’t pick it up.
“Either that or an illusive shapeshifter.” Edwina grabs my cup and takes a sip. She grimaces and swallows the warm liquid. “Ya mentioned a being last night. Is it from around here?”
I recall the female djinni I met at the Wild Stallion. Could she be behind the murders? For her sake, I hope not. “She might not be from Falls Creek. I followed her for a while but lost her on the interstate,” I lie.
“Maybe I should look into the stranger? The Council won’t tolerate an outsider preying on citizens.”
My breathing deepens. I can’t give Edwina the information to find the djinni. My posture stiffens, and I finger the pattern on the silverware. I left the female back at Brady’s. If I tell Edwina, she won’t hesitate to go to the sports bar.
“You’re right, but I don’t know where she is.” I take my cup back. “If Council gets involved, how bad could it get?”
“Epic, Cash. That’s why I came over to warn ya. Rein in the fellas to be safe. If the leaders think this involves ya, they might exile ya or worse.”
“Worse?” My voice cracks.
Edwina’s beautiful caramel-colored skin pales. “Dawlin’, if Council thinks ya did the killings, they’ll end ya.”
Hell!
I thought I was without reproach since Kelsie is with Victor. No more messes to hide, and no more worrying about being exiled. Now I gotta worry about someone wiping me off the face of the earth. Is there any peace for a demon?
“Thanks for telling me.” I point to my plate. “And thanks for the meal.”
She smiles and touches my forearm. “It was my pleasure. Ya been a good friend to me, dawlin’.”
A friend with special benefits…
“You, too.” I eat the last morsel of food. One appetite satisfied. Now my body requires something else altogether—nourishment that feeds the body as well as the soul. “Care to venture upstairs, Edie? I promise no interruptions.”
“Uh-uh.”
“You’re turning me down?” I cock my head to the side. Edwina refusing me is as likely as a month of Sundays.
“No, I’m turning down sneaking up to ya room. Dawlin’, I helped ya with the mess the Mazrels created, gave ya information, and whipped up breakfast. A quickie before ya mama gets home won’t do.”
I lean forward. “Whatcha thinkin’?”
“The two of us on the Ducati. I’ve always wanted to fuck on a bike.”
Damn!
I drop my napkin and stand up. This is why I hang with Edwina. She’s a vamp with a penchant for kink. I waggle my eyebrows. “I guess I better move the bike out of the driveway.”
I unlock the front door and drag my ass inside. Instead of banging Edwina until the sun came up, I should have gotten a little rest. Spasms rack my muscles while a dull headache taps an incessant rhythm behind my brow. That’s what I get for drinking all night with Edwina before meeting up with the fellas. Maybe I should switch from tequila to O negative?
This morning I’m inclined to agree with my mother’s belief about day jobs. Working in the human world goes against the norm for Lilin. Most of my kind spend our days resting up from our raucous nights. No matter how I explain it, she can’t understand why I insist on owning a business.
Despite my aches and pains today, I enjoy being a tattoo artist. It isn’t the frivolous pursuit my mother thinks it is. Wicked Ink is lucrative. Humans and supernaturals don’t care who does their ink as long as it’s done right, and I’m the best in Falls Creek. But my work is about more than pride. Kelsie says it’s my connection to humanity. In all honesty, it allows me to be creative in a way I couldn’t outside the shop.
I release the lock on the autoclave before ambling to the break area. I pop a pod in the coffeemaker and swallow a couple of aspirins. With the grace of an aging demon, I ease myself down on the sofa. The springs squeak underneath me as I sink into the cushion. My eyes barely close before my phone buzzes. Alec’s name flashes on the screen.
“What’s up?” I mumble.
“I know it’s early, but do you mind if I stop in? I got to talk to somebody.”
I rub my eyes. It’s too early to solve problems, but shit must be serious if Alec wants to talk. “Yeah, sure. Come on through. I just opened the shop.”
“I saw you unlock the door.”
He’s watching me? Things must be damned bad. I end the call as the front bell chimes. Soft footsteps scuff across the floor. Seconds later, Alec sticks his head through the curtain.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, grabbing my cup of coffee. I lift another pod and jerk my thumb toward it.
“Naw. I never touch the stuff.” The sofa squeaks as Alec sits down. His voice is so soft I barely hear him say, “Cash, you should know the females were alive when Dante and I left them.”
“You sure?” I ask as I sit beside him.
“Positive.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Dante got a little rough with the one girl, but we didn’t kill them. They were weak, but alive when we left.”
So, Edwina’s rogue theory might be right. I sip my coffee and chew on my next words. “Simple question, Alec. Did you dump anyone at the diner? Yes or no?”
“We dropped them off. You can only dump a corpse.”
Alec yawns, grabbing my attention. He’s never tired. Of the five of us, Alec is able to go long stretches without hitting the sack. I take stock of the bloodshot eyes, rumpled clothes, the mindless rocking back and forth. This isn’t the aftermath of incubi amorality. This is deeper, more troubling.
I set my cup on the floor and face Alec. “Have you been up all night?”
He slouches on the sofa and presses his fingertips to his eyes. “Sort of. The party ended aft
er you left, but I just couldn’t sleep. Every time I tried, I saw the girls.” Alec’s voice quakes as he says, “Cash, they’re fucking haunting me.”
This makes no sense. Incubi fuck up human dreams. Usually what we do while they’re sleeping provides satisfaction and a little comfort. The few night terrors I’ve been a part of were strictly payback for harm befalling another Lilin. Other supernaturals don’t mess with our sleep.
Edwina’s gonna kill me for interrupting her rest, but I need some answers. I pull out my phone and dial her.
“Miss me already?” she drawls.
“Every minute of the day,” I quip. “Listen, do you know of something that would give an incubus nightmares?”
“Just other demons,” she says matter-of-factly. “Why?”
“I’m sitting here with Alec. He says someone’s fucking with his sleep, tormenting him with images of the girls.” I side-glance at him. His eyelids appear to have weights on them.
“Cash, there’s a chance they weren’t human. I’ll check into it.”
I stand up and wander to the other side of the room, keeping an eye on my friend. “Edie, I realize I need to stop asking, but—”
“I get it, Cash. He’s your friend. Listen, I’ll do a spell so Alec can rest.”
“Thanks.” My heart lightens a bit knowing Edwina is going to help Alec. “Do you need to come to us? We’re at the shop.”
“Not necessary. Just let me talk to him. No speaker, Cash, unless ya want to sleep, too.”
As tempting as that sounds, I resist hitting the button. Instead, my eyes drift over to my friend. “Alec?”
He lifts his head. “Huh?”
“Someone needs to talk to you. All you have to do is listen to what she says.”
I pass him my phone. Seconds later, Alec’s eyes cloud over before his body collides with the cushion.
I catch my phone before it slides to the floor. “Thanks, Edie. Let me know what you find.”
“No problem, dawlin’. I’ll drop by if I learn anything. I hope Alec is comfortable. He’ll be asleep for a few hours.”
I’m in the middle of adding color to an intricate design on a Temptation Club bouncer when the front doorbell sounds. The beefy guy changes his position, and I glance up. Edwina stands near me, snapping her fingers and gyrating her shapely hips and tight ass to a dance tune by Kid Cudi. Although she possesses a charm in order to go out in the sun, it’s rare for her to do so.
I turn off my gun and remove the magnifier. “Hey, Samson, let’s take a break.”
“Sounds good,” he growls. The shifter glances at the ink on his forearm, stands, and stretches. “Gonna grab some food. Want anything?”
“Burger, no mayo, and fries. Oh, and a cola. Going to the diner?”
“Yup.”
My eyes settle on Edwina. We really need to spend less time together. I’m starting to look forward to seeing her. I tell Samson, “If Agnes is in, tell her to add a slice of pie. She knows my favorites.”
“All right. See you in a few.” He glances over at Edwina, bopping to the beat. “Hiya, Edwina. Didn’t take you for the tattoo type.”
“I’m not,” she mumbles and stops moving. “I’ve got business with the incubus. Weren’t ya leaving?”
“Don’t worry, she-vamp. I get enough of your kind at work.” Darkness crosses Samson’s face before he lumbers toward the exit.
Edwina waits until he’s outside before speaking. “I don’t like that shifter. Can’t trust him for shit. Is Alec still asleep?”
I nod and wipe my hands on a towel.
“Good. He shouldn’t hear this.”
“What is it?” I sit down at the vacated station.
Edwina presses her leather-clad body against mine. Her tongue rims my ear, and she mutters, “Turns out one girl was the niece of a trickster.”
I let my head fall back. “Are you shitting me? How did the Mazrels not know?”
She licks down my neck and breathes against my skin. “Weren’t ya listening? Niece of a trickster?”
Her talented mouth sends shivers down my spine. If Alec weren’t in the back… Focus. “What did you say?”
“The trickster’s niece was an expert at deception. The twins wouldn’t have known what she was.”
As long as Edwina keeps stroking my neck, I can’t pay attention. Unfortunately, this isn’t the time or place for getting my freak on. I gently push her off me. “So, it’s her uncle messing with Alec?”
She collapses on the empty station chair and frowns. “Not exactly. He knows a Mare. She owes the trickster a favor.”
I rub a hand over my beard. “A horse?”
“No.” Edwina crosses her legs. “Mares and Alps are the distant cousins of Lilin. They invade dreams and cause nightmares.”
News to me. I thought Lilin were the only ones causing havoc with dreams. I sit forward, keeping my voice low. “What can we do about it? Alec can’t go on like this. He’s miserable.”
“Hank’s paying a visit to the trickster. If Hank can convince him Alec isn’t responsible, the Mare will be recalled.”
I glance at her. “Until that happens, what can you do for Alec?”
“I’ll boost the spell. When I hear from Hank, I’ll wake Alec. Is he still in the back?”
“Yeah.” I push off the chair. “Do what you have to. I’m gonna find Samson and have lunch.”
I toss a blanket over Alec and turn off the back lights. His brother’s been calling nonstop. I’ve been busy all day and haven’t had the chance to call him back. Their apartment is my first stop before I head over to Balls Up! for a little dinner. For the first time in ages, I want to spend a quiet, drama-free evening at home.
I flip the switch on the autoclave and grab my helmet and keys. A high-pitched scream, a sound that would make a banshee envious, shatters my senses and makes me pause. Wait! That was a banshee’s scream. Someone’s in trouble.
My gear hits the ground as I hustle to the front door. I throw it open and run toward the diner. By the time I reach the scene, the screaming stops. I wish to Siren it hadn’t.
Standing in front of me is the female djinni. Lights from nearby businesses bounce off her shoulder-length brunette hair. Dark blood, like tar, mars her leather outfit. She crouches over the remains of a headless body. Its entrails, ripped free of its cavity, lie on the ground.
Fuck. Hot bile shoots from my mouth. Chunks of food from lunch land on the concrete near my feet. The sour smell of puke mixed with the metallic stench emanating from the corpse tickles my nose. I fight to keep from throwing up again. I’m not easily repulsed, but even an executioner would have a hard time witnessing this gore.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, breathe in, and choke on the stench. It takes a minute for me to gather my senses before I stammer out, “Y-you did this?”
Her deep-brown eyes lift to meet mine. “I assure you I didn’t do this. It happened before I got here.”
A police siren wails in the distance. I clear my throat. “You expect me to believe you?”
She takes her time rising to her feet, holding her palms out. “I’m innocent. This isn’t the work of djinn. We don’t behave as such.”
I push the hair off my forehead before covering my mouth. The stench threatens my resolve. I gag. “What were you doing in the alley?”
Contrition covers the female like a cloud as she hangs her head. “Just a shortcut. Someone was following me. I—”
“Nobody move! Keep your hands where I can see them!” An athletic-looking man blocks the path. Jewel-green eyes glow in the darkness. It’s Hank, the were-panther officer. He has a gun pointed at her head.
“Hank, she didn’t do it,” I say and point toward the remains. “Check the body. Do you think a female could do this?”
He lowers the gun and ambles toward the girl. His eyes, glowing even brighter, travel over her body. “You’re not human.”
“No,” she
admits and holds her chin high. “I’m a djinniyah.”
Something tells me announcing her species affiliation is a bad move. It’s like a human flashing colors in gang territory—just asking for trouble.
“What the hell is that?” Hank holsters his weapon, never taking his eyes off the stranger, and removes a pair of iron bracelets. “Not taking any chances.”
The djinniyah steps back, but Hank is faster. He’s so quick I miss him clamping the bracelets on her wrists.
Her image shimmers and then solidifies. It happens a second time. She gives up, and her shoulders slump forward. “What are your plans for me?”
Hank ignores the question and looks at me. “Cash, what are you doing here? Did you see this go down?”
“No.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “I heard a banshee and ran to see what was happening. I found the discarded body. Hank, I’m telling you she’s not responsible.”
He runs a hand across his dark face. “We’ll investigate it. If she’s innocent, I’ll remove the cuffs. At least she won’t be leaving town any time soon.”
“You cannot hold me here.” Her lip trembles, and beads of sweat shine on her forehead. “Something terrible will happen if you do.”
Hank whirls around. “Is that a threat? How about I haul your magical ass in for questioning? Throw you in an iron cage? Would that be better?”
She averts her eyes and steps into the shadow.
For some unknown reason, their exchange bothers me. It’s like listening to a parent berating a child. She said she’s innocent, and something deep down tells me to believe her.
I realize jumping to her rescue is my dumb move. My mouth, however, seems to have a mind of its own. “Hank, she’s a new client. I was open late waiting for her to show up. When I heard the scream, I thought it might be her. She’s new here. Shit happens in this area.”
His gaze darts from me to her. “I’m not sure whether to believe you, but take your client and get out of here. The cuffs, however, stay on until the investigation is over.”
