by E A Price
He viewed her with a softening hostility. “Do you really expect me to live here with you while you parade your dullard boyfriends up and down in front of me?” No fucking way hissed his snake.
“We would have to live together,” she admitted. “But we could make a deal, neither of us would bring home our respective partners.”
“Our respective partners?”
“Well, I don’t expect you to live like a monk – because I certainly won’t be living like a nun. You’re free to have sex with whoever you chose or, you know, pay for.”
His beast rumbled at that – as if he would have to pay!
“But,” she held up a finger, “and this is important. You couldn’t openly date anyone. Do whatever you want to them in private, but it has to stay private.”
“I don’t like it.” Over the last couple of months he had spotted the signs, he knew what Edith was up to. He knew that their dying marriage had breathed its last. He had resigned himself to the fact that it was time to put it out of its misery. The idea of pretending to stay married was not enticing.
Edith let out a soft breath and slumped against the couch. “You married me to save your family, and all their employees, and if you still want to do that, you’re going to have to stay married to me for a little while longer. If you don’t believe me, take the contract your father signed with my daddy to a lawyer. Trust me, there’ll be some kind of loophole. My daddy wouldn’t have signed it otherwise.”
His chest felt tight as his snake coiled. He felt trapped, cornered, suffocating in a bad marriage. He couldn’t let his family down or all the families they employed. Did he really have a choice?
She echoed his thoughts. “C’mon, Gerry, what choice do you have?”
What choice indeed?
Chapter Two
December
Fisher Stone blew on his hands. They were shaking. A part of him knew this was wrong. He knew he should forgive. A tiny, tiny part of him knew that her death wasn’t intentional. But that part of him was overwhelmed with grief. Because no matter what, his wife was still dead. Forgiveness wouldn’t bring her back. And someone had to pay for that.
A dark SUV pulled up and a door was flung open.
“Get in, Mr. Stone,” called a sultry voice.
He climbed in trying his best to smile, although it came out as a grimace. His whole body was shaking now. He wanted to do this – he really did. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous.
The woman smiled ingratiatingly. She had big, blonde hair, bright red lips and, despite the darkness of the night, she was wearing sunglasses. In her tight, black, shoulder-padded business suit, she looked like she’d just stepped off the set of a tacky soap opera. But the falseness of her appearance in some way mollified him. It was almost as if this whole thing was just a TV show and he was merely watching the horrible thing he was about to do.
“We spoke on the phone. You can call me Madam. How are you feeling, Mr. Stone?” she asked with real concern.
The grimace returned. He decided not to bother lying. “Nervous.”
She smiled lightly. “I’d be surprised if you said anything else. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, if…”
“I want to,” he said, firmly.
Madam’s smile deepened. “Good. Behavior like this should not go unpunished.” She patted his hand. “You are doing a wonderful and brave thing. Now, to business.” She pulled a contract out of her briefcase. “The preparations are all ready. We have the operating room all set up and waiting for you. I have people standing by for when you are finished – they will handle the disposal of the body. You didn’t tell anyone about this arrangement did you?”
Her voice didn’t change, but her smile seemed to harden.
“No,” he mumbled.
“Good. Are you sure this is all you want? We have resources…”
“No this is it, this is what she deserves,” he growled, anger momentarily taking over.
Madam nodded, knowingly. “Of course. Now about the payment, have you managed to procure it?”
“I have it.”
“I hope it wasn’t an issue. I try my best to keep costs down, but discretion and the best magic in the country are pricey.”
Fisher scratched the back of his hand impatiently. “I’d have paid whatever it took.”
“Sign here.” She passed him the document. With a slightly shaking hand, he put his name to the contract. “One last thing, take this and be careful with it.”
He took a rock out of her hand and frowned. “A paperweight?”
“No, that is in case of emergency. It’s technically a bomb.”
“A what?!” Fisher fumbled and only just managed not to drop it.
“Like I say, it’s for use in an emergency. If you hear the cops coming, throw it on the ground and run. It should give you a diversion for getting away and will destroy any evidence you might have left behind. It’s magical and a little easier to transport than a real bomb. It also has a controlled explosion – it will only cause damage to the room it’s in. But, be careful with it, only use it if you have to, and if you don’t use it, I’ll need it back from you at the end of the night. We wouldn’t want this getting into the wrong hands, would we?”
Fisher arched an eyebrow considering what the right hands were.
The car came to a stop, and Madam beamed. “Well, here we are. Take as long as you need. Remember this is your night. On wrongs swift vengeance waits. You’re done waiting, enjoy your vengeance.”
“I will,” he said, with determination.
*
Gerry stared at the dead body as Gunner paced up and down in the morgue.
“I’m surprised you wanted me to come down here,” said Gerry slowly. “And a human victim?” No offense to the victim but they dealt with supernatural cases. The woman on the slab definitely wasn’t supernatural in any way. “Why was LLPD so quick to pass her to us?”
Gunner shrugged. “You know how the LLPD are. They thought it was weird, so they decided it had to be supernatural.”
Yes, that was the way the LLPD worked these days. Gerry remembered that fifteen years ago, the SEA had to fight to get cases away from the cops. These days they tried to pass along everything that might be a little odd.
“Wanted to know if you’d ever seen anything like this before,” said Gunner nodding at the coroner.
The doctor pulled back the sheet and Gerry’s expression only flickered slightly as his snake hissed.
Gunner peered over his shoulder, growled and then turned away. “Bad, right?”
“Very… unusual, so methodical.” Gerry looked at the coroner. “Are any of her organs still there?”
The coroner gave him a chilly smile. “The brain’s still intact. The killer seems to have focused on the chest. There was an indication that she was still alive when she was cut open.” Gerry and Gunner looked at him with matching fury in their eyes. “Although she wouldn’t have been alive for long after the killer started cutting. But I have to inform you that I didn’t find any trace of anesthetic.”
His snake growled unhappily. “I’ve seen plenty of ritual killings but nothing like this.” No, mostly that was about taking one particular organ for some ridiculously archaic ritual. This seemed more systematic and crueler. “Maybe they wanted to sell the organs.”
Gunner coughed and nodded to the next slab. There definitely wasn’t a body on there, but something was covered up.
“Those the organs?”
“Yep,” said the coroner, “all hers, none missing.”
“They were found just lying next to the body,” interjected Gunner. “I was kind of hoping that this would be some kind of ritual, and I could send Cutter out to knock a few demon worshiping heads together.”
Gerry considered looking at the organs. He’d seen a lot in his time; he wasn’t squeamish. But he decided against it. He wasn’t sure he would gain any insight by seeing them. Nor would they gain anything by letting Cutter, an angry
wolf shifter off the leash.
“Hold the wolf at bay for now. I’m not even sure this was supernatural. The victim?”
“Everyone reckons she was a good person.”
“Hmmm.” Yes, the number of victims who achieved sainthood after death was staggering. But then they did investigate in the supernatural community. Witnesses knew they had to be superstitious and wary of what they said about dead people. There was a chance the victims were coming back, one way or another.
“She was a surgeon at Los Lobos General.”
Gerry looked up in interest. Perhaps this was a straightforward case. The victim was a surgeon, and she’d had all her organs removed. Surely this was some macabre payback perhaps for a surgery gone wrong. “Did she have a problem with a patient?”
“No, at least, they won’t tell me if she did. I talked with the hospital administrator, and she seemed pretty cut up by the death. She was really forthcoming about everything. I didn’t sense that she was holding anything major back. She said our victim was a good surgeon and a nice person. In fact, everyone we’ve talked to said that about her. Apparently, she rarely lost a patient, and she never got into arguments with anyone.”
“Any malpractice suits?”
Gunner hesitated. “Not that we know of. Or at least, not that the hospital will admit.”
“Records?”
“We’re still waiting for tech support.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, we asked Director Sayles to assign us someone and he… well, he said they were a bit busy, and they would get to us when they could. But I have got Avery contacting other SEA branches to find out if they have any similar cases like this.”
Gerry closed his eyes and soothed his irritated beast. “The job the tech support agent should be doing. I see.” Great, fucking great. Barry was doing his best to fuck Gerry over. He didn’t even consider that by denying them support he was potentially letting killers get away with murder. “Do the best you can and keep me updated.”
He stalked out of the morgue. He wasn’t sure what bothered him more - Barry dicking around or the dead body. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something about the death that was familiar to him, and although it didn’t appear supernatural, there was something off.
His phone chirruped, and he fished it out of his pocket, stifling his python’s hiss as he saw it was from his wife. Apparently his idiot brother-in-law had been arrested again for punching a guy out. Great, when it wasn’t drugs, it was violence with this moron.
The day just got better and better.
Chapter Three
Jessie Duchamp hummed Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree as she poured herself another cup of punch. It was supposed to be non-alcoholic, but she guessed by the swaying figures and chuckling pair of hyenas from HR that there was a secret ingredient in there. Not that she minded. It was Christmas, and if that wasn’t the time to get merry off your ass, then when was it? Her squirrel twittered in agreement.
She shuffled her curvy frame around the makeshift dancefloor. A tall, redheaded tigress and a vampire were practically dry humping one another as they danced.
“Get a room, Isis!” yelled a tall lioness from the other side of the floor.
The redhead flipped her the bird and curled herself even closer to the coldly sensual vampire. He caught Jessie staring and licked his tongue over his fangs. Her squirrel almost jumped out of her fur, and Jessie scuttled away in the other direction.
Hey, shifters she could handle. She was used to shifters. She grew up with shifters. Blood sucking fiends were another matter. But, she guessed she would have to get used to them.
At twenty-three, Jessie had just completed a masters in computer science, and she had been snatched up by the Los Lobos Supernatural Enforcers Agency. Headhunted to join their tech division. She was thrilled. Her mom hadn’t stopped squealing for two days when she told her.
Today was her first day, and it also coincided with the agency’s Christmas party. She supposed that was a good thing; you never really knew a person until you’d seen them blind, stinking drunk.
A tall, rangy looking shifter jogged her arm as he brushed past her. “Sorry,” he murmured with a wide, toothy smile. Hmmm, alligator. “Damn, it spilled on your sweater.” He pointed a long finger at a blossoming dark mark on her boob.
“Well, I know one way you can apologize.” With a saucy smile, Jessie pulled out a sprig of mistletoe and dangled it over her head. Hey, she was a computer geek, not a prude.
The gator raised his eyebrows before letting out a raucous guffaw. He bent down and planted a whopper on her lips before sauntering away.
Yep, that was victim number four. Who was going to be next? She weaved in and out of the crowd. She avoided getting too near any vampires for fear that they might not stop at a kiss. Her blood was fine where it was, thank you very much.
She spotted a group of her own kind – geeks – and decided to join them. Robbie, a bobcat shifter she met earlier, beamed at her and pushed his glasses up his nose as she approached. Her squirrel bounced up and down. He was boyishly handsome with tousled brown hair and dark blue eyes while sporting a fair amount of muscle. But most importantly, he loved Dr. Who and also thought that Firefly was the best TV show ever made. She’d already snagged him for a kiss, and he had blushed fiercely. He was cute and sweet - yes, he was just her type. Although, he was technically her supervisor, she wondered whether she could circumvent the rule about colleagues not dating.
She slipped into the group and listened as they listed the reasons why the Captain America movie was nowhere near as good as the comics. She was never really into comics, so she tuned away and found Cora staring at her. Despite herself, she jumped.
“Oh, Cora! You startled me.”
“Sorry,” said Cora unapologetically as she wandered away.
Cora was a mole shifter and another new recruit to the tech division. They had both spent the morning being inducted and given a tour of the building. But while Jessie tried to crack flippant jokes, Cora had a more serious mien. Cora seemed to be very wary of everyone. Even now she was watching everyone with suspicion as if they might all just attack at any minute. Jessie thought she was crazy – everyone she’d met had been wonderful and so friendly. She looked around the room at her new colleagues in various stages of inebriation and knew she was right – they were terrific.
The gator shifter she had accosted earlier was standing around with a group of equally big, tough looking male shifters. He saw her looking and winked. A group of witches were creating some alarming indoor fireworks that didn’t seem to cause any alarm in anyone else. Towards the back of the room congregated the SEA directors. They were distinguishable by their suits, tolerant smiles directed at their subordinates and the fact that they weren’t either hammered or on their way to being so. They were far too fancypants for her. In her squirrel scurry, there were only two occasions when suits were appropriate – mating ceremonies and funerals. Anything in between could be navigated with a reasonably clean sweater and slacks.
The argument over the Red Skull started to get a little heated, so Jessie ducked away to grab some more punch.
“Glad you decided to work here?” Robbie asked, suddenly appearing at her elbow.
“Definitely,” she replied enthusiastically. She was itching to get to work.
They looked up as a dark, grouchy looking wolf shifter slammed his fist into a jaguar shifter. A huge polar bear shifter stepped between them breaking it up before it could really get started.
Robbie waggled his eyebrows. “Still glad?”
Jessie giggled. “Yes, very.”
“Guys, guys, guys!” yelled the redheaded tiger shifter of earlier running into the middle of the room. “It’s snowing!”
There was a collective ooohhhh and a stampede as everyone rushed to find a window. Jessie squeaked as she was caught up in the crowd. She knew that snow was rare in the sunny climes of Los Lobos, but come on!
She ca
ught a helpless look on Robbie’s face as she was swept away. Fearing being trampled to death by larger shifters, she ducked into a corridor as soon as she could. Unlike the rest of the building, it wasn’t decorated with garish holiday decorations. Undeterred, Jessie tried the first door she came to and smiled as she saw it was an office with a huge window. And yep, it was snowing. She giggled and ran to the room, practically pressing her nose against the glass. Okay, maybe she was a sucker for a bit of snow, but it conjured images of making snowmen with her siblings and sipping hot cocoa with marshmallows while her dad told ghost stories and her mom knitted holiday sweaters. Yeah, the Waltons had nothing on them.
“May I help you?” demanded a cool voice.
Jessie yelped as her squirrel chittered in alarm and she banged her head against the window. Jessie looked around to find a man half-shrouded in darkness, sitting at a desk and obviously regarding her with interest. He was hard to make out in the darkness of the office, but she caught the hard lines of his face.
“Damn, you scared the hell out of me!” she scolded him while rubbing her forehead.
The surprise was obvious in his voice. “I’m sorry?”
“You should be,” she huffed.
He leaned back in his chair and she caught the glint of a glass as he sipped his drink. “Why aren’t you at the party?”
“Why aren’t you?”
He let out an exasperated snort. “This is my office you just happened to crash into.”
Jessie felt a tug of chagrin. “Oh. Whoops.” Her squirrel was silent, for a change. Neither annoyed nor scared by this stranger, more… intrigued.
He flicked a light on, and she stifled a gasp. Okay, he wasn’t just Mr. Dark and Miserable, he was Ms. Dark, Miserable, and Pant-wettingly Gorgeous! He wasn’t usually her type, but his hard, brooding face and silver eyes made her insides quiver.
He stood and made his way over to her; his movements were fast and fluid like he was gliding her way. She had a brief panic as she suspected he might be a vampire, but a quick sniff confirmed that he was a shifter. A python to be exact. That wasn’t much comfort – squirrels were easy prey for the enormous snakes. Even if he did smell even better than cocoa, marshmallows and peanut butter all put together. Yep, she would love just to lick and bite her way over his hard body…
