Kylian and Brett

by Edward Kendrick

  Kylian reread the article before replying. “According to the officers the reporter talked with, there was no indication of accelerants on or close to the bodies. In both cases, a neighbor saw a man running away from the house, went to investigate, and found the victim.”

  “Yeah. Unfortunately when it happened it was after dark so the witnesses didn’t get a good look at the man, or men. At least not enough to give the police a decent description, according to the story.”

  “You think it might have been a paranormal killing these men for some reason?”

  Gid nodded. “Either a rogue elf, or a vampire with the fire gift.”

  “Why Cleveland, of all places?”

  “Why not?” Gid replied. “There isn’t a city in the world where there aren’t supernaturals of one kind or another.”

  “What do we know about the victims? Never mind. Probably nothing at the moment if you just found this story.”

  “I did, so some research is in order to find out if they’re connected in any way, and if it’s happened anywhere else other than Cleveland. That’s your forte.”

  “Yep. While I do that, you should pay the witnesses a visit. We both know that, while they might not actively remember the faces of the men they saw, the knowledge could be buried in their memories. If you can pick up on anything…”

  Gid shook his head. “You know I’m not a mind reader, but Brett Wescott is. I’ll take him with me. I can tell them he’s a police artist.”

  Kylian felt a twinge of unexpected, and unwarranted, jealousy at the idea that Gid would be spending time with Brett, even if it was only for business reasons. The wolf shifter was gay and incredibly good-looking. Get a grip, he cautioned himself. Gid has never been involved with a human. Why would he start now? He’s got more shifters at his beck and call than he can count, according to him. Thinking that and believing it were two different things however.

  “Tell you what,” Kylian said. “You’re almost as good at researching as I am. I have a working relationship with Brett. He might feel more comfortable if I was the one who went with him.”

  Gid lifted an eyebrow, and then smiled knowingly. “Afraid I might make a move on him?”

  “Why would I be?” Kylian protested. “I haven’t even talked to him since we helped him move into his apartment.”

  “Right. If you say so. Okay, I’ll get to work on finding out more about the victims.” Gid pointed to the door. “You get your ass in gear and go out there with Wescott.”

  As Kylian had told Brett, there was no real hierarchy within the team, so Kylian merely laughed, rather than taking offense at how Gid had phrased his suggestion.

  * * * *

  Brett fixed lunch after returning home from delivering two of his newest paintings to the gallery. He felt a sense of pride in how well they’d turned out. The gallery owner seemed to agree that they were good. He’d made several glowing comments on the subject matter and how cleverly Brett had managed to hide and yet reveal the supernaturals who populated the paintings.

  Going into his studio with a sandwich in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, Brett studied the newest painting sitting on the easel. He saw two places which still needed more attention, so he finished eating then set to work. He was totally involved when his phone rang a few minutes later. He answered, grumbling, “This better be important.”

  “It is,” Kylian replied, sending Brett’s pulse racing. “We need to go talk to a couple of witnesses.”

  “Witnesses to what?” Brett asked, putting down his brush and turning away from the canvas to focus his attention on what Kylian was saying. As soon as Kylian had finished talking Brett asked, “Why do you think there’s more to it than spontaneous human combustion?”

  “Because that’s a very rare phenomenon and it’s happened twice in a week, in the same city, which goes against all the odds,” Kylian replied.

  “It’s a strange way to murder someone,” Brett said. “Why aren’t the cops looking for an arsonist who screwed up?”

  “An arsonist would have torched the house, not the men. I mean, if you were going to burn down a building, would you start by setting someone on fire?”

  “Well, no. Maybe the victims were putting together incendiary devices and they blew up on them?”

  “The police, and presumably the arson investigators, didn’t find any evidence of accelerants on the bodies. At least according to the newspaper I read. And, as I said, there are witnesses in both cases who saw someone running from the scene of the crime.”

  “If it was a crime,” Brett replied dryly.

  “That is what I have to find out. I want to talk with the witnesses and have you pull anything from their minds they may recall about the man. Facts they don’t realize they remember. Before you say I can do it on my own, having you there and sketching on the spot will speed things up. If we’re right and we’re dealing with a rogue, the sooner we stop him, the better. It’s for damned sure the police won’t believe yet another seemingly spontaneous combustion. I’m surprised they think that’s what happened when the second victim turned up.”

  “The easy answer, when there’s no evidence to say otherwise, I suppose,” Brett said.

  “True. How soon can you be ready to leave?”

  “I presume we’re using one of your doors. If so, as soon as you get here, since I won’t have to pack for a trip.”

  “You might want to, anyway. There’s no telling how long we’ll be out there.”

  “Okay.” Brett wasn’t certain if he liked the idea of being in such close proximity to Kylian for a long period of time. He wouldn’t be able to step away and go home if his emotions began to get the better of him. Not that I’ll let it happen. I’ll be calm and businesslike. Learn what he wants then get him to bring me back here if he does plan on sticking around there for longer than it takes to interview the witnesses. “Give me an hour and I’ll be ready.”

  “All right. See you then.”

  * * * *

  “We’re in a forest,” Brett said in disbelief when he and Kylian came through the door from Denver to Cleveland—or Shaker Lakes, as Kylian informed him.

  “Not really,” Kylian replied. “We’re not that far from civilization, and transportation.”

  “Good. I wasn’t looking forward to hiking for hours to get where we’re going.”

  True to Kylian’s word, they only had to walk a few blocks, out of the forested area then through what looked to Brett like a high class residential area, before they came to a wide avenue. He glanced at a street sign which told him they were on Fairmont Boulevard. Ahead of him he was a church which apparently was their destination since Kylian headed directly to it, and the parking lot in the rear.

  “Planning on stealing a car?” Brett asked.

  Kylian laughed. “Nope. That one—” he pointed to a dark blue minivan in one corner of the lot, “—belongs to us. Well, to the company. One of my people dropped it off here when I let her know we were on our way.”

  “Servants in every corner of the world,” Brett muttered. He knew he was acting like an ass, but after being in close quarters with Kylian in the car on the way to the Denver door, and knowing he would be again in a few moments, it was that or succumb to his very personal feelings for the elf—and that he was not about to do.

  “Hardly servants,” Kylian replied. “I’ve told you, we’re all part of a team.” He shot a look at Brett as they got into the car. “Even you.”

  “Got it.” Brett buckled up then asked, “Where are we going first and how will you convince the witnesses to talk with us. You’re not a cop.”

  “The first witness lives not too far from here. The second is on the other side of town. A small glamour on my part will convince them I’m Detective Daniels, who originally spoke with them.”

  “You know what he looks like? Hell, knowing you, you probably know what type of underwear he wears by now.”

  Kylian snorted. “I’m not quite that nosy. I did do my research
, however, and found a few photos of him. As soon as we’re finished with the witnesses, I think I’ll pay him a visit to find out if he’s learned anything more about the two cases.”

  “You know, you probably shouldn’t pose as him,” Brett said. “If either of the witnesses calls him, or he comes back to talk with them…”

  “Good point.” Kylian thought for a moment. “I’ll say…Okay, I’m a Denver detective and we’ve had a similar case so I came out here to talk to them, hoping they’ve remembered more than they told Daniels.”

  “Not great, but it should work,” Brett replied. “Don’t go in looking like yourself, however. The same for me, if you can make me look different to them.”

  “I can.” Kylian concentrated and seconds later he was blond with a mustache, and Brett was slender, with long dark hair pulled up in a man-bun.

  Brett glanced in the rearview mirror and groaned. “I hate those things.”

  Kylian laughed, telling him to deal, as they pulled up and parked in front of a two-story home on a street made up of similar houses, primarily painted white. An older man was seated on the front porch. He stood when Kylian and Brett came up the walk.

  “May I help you,” the man asked.

  “My name is Kyle Bush,” Kylian replied. “I’m a Denver police detective.” He went on to give the man the story he’d come up with. “I’d like you to talk with our police artist, Mr. Taylor. I know you told Detective Daniels that you didn’t get a good look at the man you saw leaving the Wallace house, but if you can describe what you did see, and he sketches it, it might bring more details to mind.”

  “I suppose it’s worth a try.” Mr. Taylor gestured to the chairs on the porch. When they were seated, he said, “Do you think the guy had something to do with the fire? I thought the police decided it what some weird thing. Umm, spontaneous combustion?”

  “As strange as it sounds, it probably was. The same with my case,” Kylian said. “However, I like to cover all bases, even coming out here to talk with you.”

  Mr. Taylor nodded, then at Kylian’s prompting began to tell Brett what he’d seen from the bay window in his living room. Brett probed his thoughts as he talked, seeing more than the man consciously recalled of the person who had fled the house next door. He added the details to the sketch, asking questions like, “Is this closer to his nose, as far as you can remember?”

  “Maybe?” Mr. Taylor would reply hesitantly. Or, “Now that I see it, his mouth did look like that. Funny I didn’t remember when I was talking to Detective Daniels.”

  “Which is why I brought my artist with me,” Kylian said. “Is there anything else?”

  “Yeah. His hair. It was longer.” When Brett lengthened it to below the ears, Mr. Taylor nodded. “Better. I’m not going to swear to all the details, but I think that’s how he looked. It was dark, so there was only the streetlight, for what that’s worth.” He chuckled. “Not much, I can tell you, but it helped.”

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Taylor,” Kylian said when Brett closed his sketchpad.

  “Hey, no problem. It livened up my day.”

  Chapter 8

  Their next stop was across the city in an upper middle-class neighborhood. Kylian pulled up behind a car parked in the driveway of a brick and fieldstone home.

  “The yellow house is where our second victim died,” Kylian said as they got out of the car. He led the way to the front door of the home belonging to their witness and rang the bell.

  A woman in her late fifties, Brett estimated, opened the door a moment later.

  “Mrs. Johns?” Kylian asked. When she said she was, he replied, “I’m Detective Bush, from Denver. Sorry to bother you, but I have a case somewhat similar to what happened to your neighbor. I wanted to put you together with our sketch artist to see if you remember anything more than you told Detective Daniels.”

  She stepped back to let them into the entryway. “It’s no bother at all. I’m not certain what good it will do, but…” She took them into the living room.

  Kylian told her the same thing he’d said to Mr. Taylor. Then at Brett’s prompting she related what she’d seen from her bedroom window, which faced the yellow house. What he came up with, from reading her thoughts, was less detailed than Mr. Taylor’s description, but the details she did recall matched.

  When she was finished, Kylian thanked her for her help and he and Brett returned to the car. It was late afternoon by then, so Kylian suggested they get something to eat then find a hotel.

  “Just take me home,” Brett replied. “You can come back and do what you need to without me.”

  “I could, but I’d like your input after I talk with Detective Daniels.”

  “Like you need it. You’re quite capable of reading his mind to see what he’s leaving out,” Brett said caustically.

  “But you’re better at it, I think,” Kylian told him with an ingratiating smile.

  “Are you trying to butter me up?”

  “Yep. Is it working?”

  Brett hesitated, wondering if he should let it happen. Then against his better judgment he decided he would, at least for the moment, and chuckled. “Sort of.”

  “Good. I know a couple of decent restaurants downtown. Would you prefer Italian or steak and seafood?”

  “Depends,” Brett replied. “I’m not dressed for anywhere fancy.”

  “Then Vincenza’s it is. They’ve got great food, especially the pizza.”

  Fifteen minutes later, after finding a parking spot in the lot across the street, they were walking into the restaurant.

  “Made it in the nick of time,” Brett commented when he saw the hours listed on the door.

  Kylian grinned. “Planning is everything.”

  They found a table then went back to the counter to order what they wanted to eat.

  “The pasta’s good, but the pizza…” Kylian kissed his fingers then flicked them apart. “Eccellente.”

  “Now you’re going to tell me you speak Italian?”

  “Ma certo,” Kylian replied, laughing. “As long as I’ve been around? I’ve learned a lot of languages but I’ll stick to English for now.”

  After some debate, they decided to split a large, deluxe, New York style pizza, ordered, and returned to their table, beers in hand.

  “While we’re waiting, let’s look at the sketches you did,” Kylian suggested.

  That was fine with Brett. It would keep them from having to find something to talk about that might become personal. Unfortunately, even though they hadn’t seen each other for a month, until today, his feelings for Kylian were still there—and even more so now that they were together again, despite the fact it was only for business.

  * * * *

  Kylian was far from immune to Brett, and even more so when Brett moved to sit catty-corner from him at the table so that they could look at the sketches together.

  “Definitely the same male,” Kylian said softly, not wanting anyone to overhear them. He considered mind speaking, but that would mean Brett would have to drop his shield. Kylian was quite certain he wouldn’t.

  “Male as in someone not human?” Brett asked just as quietly.

  “I think so. The long hair for one thing. Yeah, lots of men have it but the fact we think the killer might be a rogue elf would explain why he keeps his long enough to cover his ears.”

  “Like you.” Brett nodded. “Since you haven’t said so, I presume you don’t recognize him.”

  “No.”

  “Is it possible he could be a vampire?”

  Kylian lifted an eyebrow. “You believe in them?”

  Brett leaned in even closer than he was to Kylian, barely whispering, “I already know there are elves and shifters, so it’s possible, right?”

  “It is, and there are,” Kylian replied, trying to ignore the fact they were barely inches apart. He pulled back quickly before he might do something he’d regret later, saying, “Both attacks happened at night, so yes, it could be a vampire.”


  “Just what I didn’t need to know,” Brett said, shaking his head. He gazed at Kylian, his lips barely turning up in a grin. “I’m not going to make any advances, so you don’t have to act as if I were a threat to you.”

  “You, a threat?” Kylian replied with a laugh, trying to act as if Brett’s suggestion was ludicrous. “Not hardly. An interesting man? Yes. I’ve said as much. But nothing more. For damned sure no threat.”

  Brett took a drink of his beer, looking over the rim of the glass at Kylian. “Why don’t I believe you? Not that it matters. You’re dead set against the idea that anything could happen between us, and so am I. It wouldn’t work.”

  “No, it wouldn’t,” Kylian replied firmly. But in his heart he wondered if that was the truth. Not that I’m going to do anything to find out, any more than he will. I should have done as Gid suggested and let the two of them come out here. It would have been better than my sitting here with him, wishing we were somewhere a hell of a lot less public.

  “If I could read you…” Brett dropped his gaze. “But I can’t, and if I could, I wouldn’t. I probably wouldn’t like what I found out.”

  “Probably not,” Kylian agreed. “Where the hell is our pizza?” He got to his feet, heading toward the counter to find out and stopped when he saw a waitress approach their table. “Ask, and ye shall receive,” he said under his breath, returning to his seat.

  “So what’s on the agenda for tomorrow,” Brett asked when they’d made inroads into their meal.

  “I told you. I’m going to talk with Detective Daniels. I want you along to read him when I do, to see if he’s telling us the truth about what he knows.”

  “As if you couldn’t do that without me, but okay, I will.”

  “It’s called double teaming him, although he won’t know it.”

  “How are you going to explain why you want to know about the murders?” Brett asked.

  “I’ll tell him the same thing I did the witnesses, that we had something similar happen in Denver, and as the lead detective on the case, I want to see if there’s a possible connection.”