Witches Can't Fly (Otherworld Crime Unit Book 3)

by Nova Archer

  Orphaned at eleven, Lyra went to live with her maternal grandmother, Eleanore. She lost her too six years later during a robbery at her gran’s magic shop. Eleanore thought to protect Lyra with her magic. She was gunned down for her trouble by a teenager hopped up on meth.

  The years after that Lyra spent going to school to study magic and criminal law—her intent being to track down and punish the boy responsible for her pain. She never found him, but instead found Caine and the rest of the crime-scene team, and formed a quasi family.

  I’m still here, honey.

  Her grandmother’s voice echoed in her mind. Tears welled as Lyra felt her gran’s presence envelop her in a phantom hug. I know, Gran. I know.

  Wiping at the moisture with the back of her hand, Lyra said, “I’ve lost so much. I don’t think I could handle that again.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Not yet.” She wiped at the last of the tears rolling down her cheeks. “After we translate the book, your commitment is done here. There’ll be no reason for you to stay.”

  She sucked in a deep breath and waited for his response. Secretly, she hoped he’d tell her he had every reason to stay—and every single one of them having to do with her. She wasn’t expecting a declaration of love, but she needed more than the promise of a night or two of passion. That would never be enough for her.

  “Lyra, I—,”

  A clanging sound echoed above them. They both looked up.

  Caine and Eve stared down at them, smiles plastered on their faces, relief washing over them. Caine had a jackhammer in his hands, the end tapping against the invisible protection layer Theron had invoked.

  “You’re both a sight for sore eyes” Caine said. “We thought we lost you.”

  Lyra pulled her hands out from Theron’s and waved at them. “What took you so long?”

  Relief at having been found washed over Lyra. But so did a feeling of regret. Regret she couldn’t remain here alone with Theron, trapped with no way out. It felt safe then. Safe to say what she wanted, safe to do what she’d wanted from the second she met him.

  Now that moment was gone. And she wasn’t sure if they’d ever get it back. Or if she really wanted to.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  After they were dug out of under the rubble, the whole team, including Monty, the other shift supervisor, and his people, assembled in the conference room of the NPD.

  After giving both Lyra and Theron a thorough examination, the paramedics had declared that they were both without serious injuries and didn’t need a trip to the hospital. Happily, Lyra’s shoulder had been fairing well, thanks to Theron’s oil. Unfortunately, the others were not so lucky.

  The crime scene lab and offices had been ravaged. The DNA lab had been destroyed, including all the evidence from several pending cases, the equipment had been ruined and Gwen had been badly injured. She was in the hospital with second-degree burns and broken ribs.

  As Lyra glanced around the conference table she took in everyone else’s injuries. Out of them all, besides Gwen, Caine was the most seriously injured. His face was cut and his arm was in a sling, having busted his wrist. Because of his rejuvenation powers he wouldn’t be in the sling long, two days max. Eve suffered a few minor bruises as Caine took the brunt of the explosion for her.

  Theron sat next to Lyra, his book—about the only thing which survived the explosion which was odd in itself—sitting on the table in front of him. The dhampir traced the cover with a finger, seemingly not listening to anything going on around him. But she knew he was aware of what was going on as any of them.

  “What’s next, Chief?” Jace asked.

  Swiveling from looking out the big bay window, Caine set his hand on Eve’s shoulder. She reached up and covered it with her own. It always made Lyra ache with longing watching them together, how much love there was between them despite all their differences.

  “We need to catalogue what evidence we’ve lost and what we have remaining. For all our cases.”

  There was a collective groan around the table.

  “That’s a lot of work,” Jace commented.

  “I know. I’d like you to spearhead it, Jace.”

  Jace glanced at his wife, Tala, sitting next to him then back at Caine. “Why me?”

  “Because you’re tenacious and I know you’ll get it done.”

  “I can help out,” Monty offered.

  “Thank you, Monty.” Caine tipped his head at the other shift supervisor. There’d been bad blood between them, but when it came down to it they both worked for the same lab, believed in the same things—solving crime. “Could we also transfer Jace’s robbery case over to one of your people for the time being?”

  “You got it.”

  “Do you know what Gwen was going to tell you?” Lyra asked.

  Caine shook his head. “No, and she’s still unconscious.”

  “Maybe we should bring Rick in,” Jace suggested. “The two of them had been working close on this.”

  Lyra wanted to smile at the thought of the eager young lab technician from San Antonio. He had worked with the team on a string of murders in the city and ended up bonding with Jace and especially with Gwen when he had the opportunity to study the DNA they recovered. Ever since then, he and Gwen had been online chatting, like a couple of love-struck teenagers.

  “Good idea, Jace. Call Hector and see if he can send Rick in. But make sure he doesn’t tell Rick that Gwen is in the hospital. That boy’s high-strung and paranoid as it is; we don’t need to add to his stress.”

  “No problem.”

  “Eve’s going to try and recover any data on Gwen’s computer. It’s fried, but she assures me if it’s on there, she can find it.” He smiled down at Eve.

  She nodded. “Surprisingly, some hard drives can last through anything.”

  “Lyra and Theron will continue to work on the translation from the book as well as follow any other leads in this case.” His eyes darkened. Lyra had never seen him enraged before. It was terrifying to watch. Power flowed from him, like heat waves pressing everyone back. “And I’m going to rip this place apart to find the bastard that did this.”

  “Do we have any ideas?” Lyra asked, trying not to shield her face from the onslaught of power radiating from him. She pitied the culprits if Caine found them first. He was usually a reserved responsible man but she had a feeling he’d put those things aside for five minutes with the saboteurs.

  The conference door opened and Baron Laal Bask strolled in, his hair perfect, his suit and pants looking freshly pressed. It was obvious the man had been no where near the lab when it exploded.

  Snarling, Caine swiveled around. “Where the hell have you been?”

  Laal smoothed down his tie. “I was in a meeting with Mistress Jannali, if you must know.”

  “Where?”

  “Well, not that it’s your business but at the club.”

  “How convenient,” Jace snarled under his breath. Everyone heard it regardless. It was difficult to talk to yourself when three-quarters of the people in the room had extrasensory abilities.

  Laal glared at Jace. “What is that supposed to mean, Jericho?”

  “It means all hell has broken lose and you conveniently missed it.”

  Laal whirled on Caine. “I don’t have to explain myself to you or anyone else, Valorian. As soon as I heard what happened I rushed back here. I’m just as concerned about the damage to the lab as you are. It’s going to take millions to rebuild.”

  It didn’t surprise Lyra to notice the baron’s concern was the money it would take to restore order and not the loss of evidence or the fact Gwen had been seriously hurt and could have been killed. Any one of them could have sustained as terrible injury as well. The impact wasn’t lost on Lyra that if Theron hadn’t been with her, she would’ve been buried beneath tons of concrete and likely wouldn’t have survived.

  As if privy to her thoughts, Theron reached under the table and grabbed her hand. Turnin
g, she looked at him. He hadn’t lifted his head, and still traced the cover of the book with his finger, but she sensed he knew exactly how she was feeling. She squeezed his hand back in gratitude. His lips twitched but he didn’t meet her gaze.

  Caine closed the distance between him and Laal. “Where were you before you went to the meeting?”

  “Are you accusing me of something? Because you better not be. I’ll have more than your arm in a sling.”

  Lyra watched as the baron’s bright blue eyes darkened to slate. Power roared off him as well, mingling and conflicting with Caine’s. The temperature in the room rose about ten degrees.

  Before anyone could protest, Caine had his left hand wrapped around Laal’s throat and was pushing him back into a wall. The baron raked his nails over Caine’s hands, but it was pointless. Caine was the stronger vampire here. Nothing Laal did was going to affect him. The baron was completely under Caine’s mercy. And by the twisted look of fury on the chief’s face, he didn’t have any of that racing through his veins.

  “You’re hiding something, Laal.” Caine leaned down into the baron’s face. “I can smell it on you like your cheap cologne.”

  “You’re done, Valorian. You’ll never work for law enforcement again,” Laal managed to squeak out, his throat working double time under the extreme pressure of Caine’s wide-palmed hand.

  “Who are you covering for? It’s someone at the club, isn’t it?”

  Lyra had no love for the baron, but she didn’t like to see him being treated so harshly, especially when she didn’t believe he had anything to do with the bombing. The image of Kellen racing away on his bike flashed in her mind. She couldn’t keep quiet any longer. She had to say something, if only to clear her conscience.

  She stood. “I saw Kellen racing away from the parking lot minutes before the explosion.”

  Turning, Caine loosened his hold on Laal and the baron was able to push him away. “What?”

  “When Theron and I were down in the parking lot getting my kit from the SUV, we saw Kellen on his bike roaring out of the parking lot. Five minutes later the roof caved in on us.”

  “He almost hit Lyra,” Theron added. “I had to push her out of the way.”

  Caine pinned Lyra with his gaze. “Why didn’t you say something before now?”

  “I can’t believe Kellen would hurt anyone here. He’s been a part of this team for years, Caine. I may not like him, but I can’t believe he’s a traitor or working with a killer.”

  “No one wants to believe that about anyone at the lab or here in the precinct, but the fact of the matter is, Lyra, we do have someone among us that is conspiring with a murderer. Every possibility needs to be considered.” Caine glanced over his shoulder at Laal. “Even if that means ruffling a few feathers in the process.”

  Laal rubbed at his throat. “If that’s an apology I suppose I can accept it.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  The baron straightened himself and looked around at the others, trying to regain some composure. “I suppose I can be the better man here, and walk away knowing you were acting under extreme duress. I can sympathize with that, as we’re all going to have our work cut out for us trying to put things back together.”

  Everyone ignored Laal as he continued to simper about the cost of repairs and replacing the lost equipment.

  Caine nodded to Mahina. “Find Kellen and bring him in.”

  “Done.”

  “No one talks to him except me.” Caine clenched his fist. “If the bastard lies, I’ll know it.”

  “I know how to make a truth serum if you need it,” Theron said, looking at Caine.

  Lyra whipped around and stared at him. “That’s black magic you’re talking about.”

  “I appreciate the offer, Theron, but I don’t think we’ll need it. Maybe you should leave the city. You’ve done more than what was asked of you. I can’t ask you to risk any more than you already have.”

  Theron’s eyes raked over Lyra leaving her feeling open and vulnerable. “I’ll stay until the text and symbols from the book are completely translated.”

  “Okay.” Caine looked at everyone around the table. “Let’s take a break for a few hours. We have a lot of work ahead of us and we need everyone to be fresh and ready to go fourteen, fifteen hours if need be. Whatever it takes to solve this. Go home, shower, eat, sleep, and be back here ready to work.”

  Everyone stood and started filing out of the room. Laal was the first to disappear, most likely running to a phone so he could call Mistress Jannali and tell on Caine.

  Lyra grabbed Theron’s arm before he could leave. “Why do you know black magic?”

  Something dark and scary crossed Theron’s face. “It’s a long story and one I am not willing to share.”

  Lyra’s hand fell away. Her stomach rolled over at the icy timber of his voice. She knew Theron had secrets. Now she wasn’t sure she wanted to know about them.

  “I’m going to my hotel and taking the book with me. We can work while we eat.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Why do you have to argue about everything?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then don’t be foolish. You’re hungry, hurt, and we can work while I fix your shoulder.” He turned to leave. “I’ll grab the book. Meet me outside.”

  As she watched him go, her hands began to shake. There was something innately dangerous about Theron. She’d only glimpsed it, but it was definitely present. Could she trust him?

  Glancing at the ceiling, she said, “Little help here.”

  Trust your heart.

  “What does that mean, Gran? Why can’t you just tell me what to do?”

  I don’t want to interfere.

  “What? Where was that attitude when I was a teenager and I wanted to go to that all night concert in Vegas?”

  I can’t tell you what to do, my dear. There are some things you have to figure out on your own.

  She threw her hands up in defeat. “Great, but I have no idea what that is.”

  Her heart told her she could trust Theron, but her head screamed at her that something was wrong. And finding out would risk something more than she was willing to give, the one thing her grandmother had told her to trust—her heart.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  From the front seat of his car, he had watched the witch and her dhampir go into the hotel. Oh what he wouldn’t give to go into the room and finish his work. But the timing was off. There was still one more to go. One more work of art he needed to create.

  The wait wouldn’t be long now. Everything he had planned from the beginning was coming to fruition and soon he would reap the rewards of his labors. He could almost taste the final act on the tip of his tongue. Like a fine wine it lingered on his flesh with its sweet after bite. Soon, he promised himself. Soon he would have it all and rule without question, without humanity’s morality dictating his actions. He had lived long enough like that among them, pretending to be something he wasn’t.

  He hated them all for the façade he had to portray. It sickened him to have to pretend. He wanted the world to know his true purpose, his true identity, and wither in fear of his power.

  Already people bowed down to him, did his every wish without a clue to the true meaning of him. What would his followers do once they found out his genuine self? Would they rejoice in his tremendous supremacy or quiver in the face of his terrible beauty? He hoped it would be both.

  Once he accomplished his ultimate task, his first order of business would be to eliminate most of his followers, the sniveling, greedy creatures they were. But he would reward a rare few who had proved to him they were worthy to serve him in the new world.

  Grinning, he thought of one such creature that had served him well for years. He had a special treat for her. His body quivered at the devilish torments he had in store for her. By the end, she would both loathe him and love him. Right before he cut out her heart and ate it. For one as cruel as she, couldn’t be trusted to
keep around.

  No, he was of the sound mind of keeping his enemies close and eating his friends.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Theron’s suite at the hotel was bigger than her house, but Lyra was too worn out to care. She collapsed on the sofa while Theron went into the bedroom to get more oil from his luggage. The other application was wearing off and her shoulder was starting to ache. The pain traveled over her collarbone and up to her jaw. She could barely open her mouth without a twinge of pain zinging through her. Some might have thought that was a good thing, considering her penchant for speaking her mind.

  Resting her head on the back of the luxurious sofa, Lyra closed her eyes. She felt like she could sleep for a week. Both her mind and body were exhausted.

  Her eyes snapped open the second Theron nestled in beside her on the sofa, his hands already probing her arm.

  “You should sleep,” he said as he massaged the ointment into her upper arm.

  “So should you.”

  “I can’t sleep when I’m this tired.”

  “Neither can I.” She smiled at their shared quirk. She wondered what other things they had in common. She’d been so busy battling her attraction to him that she never bothered to find out more about him. Maybe they were more alike than she wanted to acknowledge.

  As his hands moved over her skin, caressing and massaging her shoulder, Lyra watched him. She surveyed his face, taking in every nuance, every gorgeous feature. Sometimes it hurt to look at him. He was captivating with his stormy gray eyes, long black eyelashes, high cheekbones and full sensuous lips. It was as if he had been cut from a piece of white granite, all hard planes and smooth surfaces.

  Letting her eyes travel down past his mouth, she wondered how chiseled he was beneath his shirt and pants. From the way he moved it was not hard to imagine he possessed unbridled strength. He exuded the grace most vampires had, screaming power and precision. Lyra had always thought Caine exemplified the ultimate vampire allure, but since meeting Theron she’d had to amend that thought. Theron was the epitome of vamp seduction.