Taste for Alphas: Paranormal Fantasy Shifter Romance

by Milly Taiden

  “But what about his whereabouts during the approximate times of death? Did he have anything to say about that?” Erica strained to get the words out. She wanted to scream in frustration. This case was going nowhere.

  “Actually, he has an airtight alibi. He’s been out of the country for almost four weeks, visiting family. He just returned two days ago. There’s been a different professor doing his lectures in the meantime.”

  Great. Just what they needed, another dead-end.

  She turned to Trent and caught him scrutinizing her. “Let’s hope we have better luck with Richard Thompson and Anthony Holmes.”

  Trent’s scowl intensified. She frowned, wondering what was wrong. She glanced at her hands, which was what he was staring at. That’s when she realized he’d been studying her fisted hands. In order to calm down, she found the clenching and unclenching of her hands, combined with deep breathing techniques, helped her relax. At least that’s what the paranormal unit psychiatrist had told her. So many victims in such a short span of time were playing havoc with her nerves. Just thinking of how much the victims had suffered made her angry.

  Erica shifted from one foot to the other while the medical examiner went through the physical inspection of the body. Her hands itched to touch the victim, but with Trent on one side and Brock on the other, watching her like she might steal a body part, she decided to wait.

  “Same as the others. This one died approximately three days ago,” said the older woman looking at the body. The fiftyish, dark-haired medical examiner wore a white lab coat and gloves. She’d been recording the wounds, stating in a clear and concise manner all the traumas the victim had suffered.

  “Was she reported missing?” Erica asked. The ME was poking around the body while they spoke.

  “No,” Brock replied. “From what we were told she’d scheduled to take ten days off, and no one had known she didn’t make it to her family. Apparently they weren’t expecting her for a few days anyway.”

  “So you’re saying nobody knew that she had been missing?” Disbelief colored her words.

  “I’ve got something here,” the medical examiner said, calling their joint attention. In quiet suspense, they strode forward. She used a pair of long tweezers to pull out a piece of paper from the victim’s throat. Erica held her breath. The ME unfolded the paper.

  “What does it say?” Trent asked.

  “She’s not the last,” the ME said, reading from the paper.

  Erica’s heart quaked. Blood froze in her veins, and a shudder racked her body. The killer wasn’t stopping, but she already knew that.

  “Give me the paper.” She held her hand.

  “No!” Both Brock and Trent yelled at once.

  “Look…” She lowered her voice so that the ME wouldn’t hear her. “ I need to touch it to see if I can see him. We don’t have time to waste.”

  She rushed around both men. Only a step away from grasping the tiny note, Trent wrapped his arm around her waist, hauling her back.

  “Are you out of your mind, woman?” He dropped his head by her ear, his words a low murmur. “I know what you’re trying to do. This is not the way to do it. We’ll find something that belongs to the victim and see if you get any clue that way, but you’re not touching something that was inside that dead girl’s mouth. You know the rules. That is evidence and you can’t contaminate it.”

  She wanted to argue, complain that they were running out of time, but what he said was the truth. Panic built inside her at breakneck speed.

  “We should get this note analyzed by a handwriting expert.” Brock’s voice jerked her back to the present. “Villa, you and Buchanan question Richard Thompson. Go now. I will look into getting information on Anthony Holmes. After you speak to him we’ll go to Melanie Lee’s dorm room.” He gave Erica one of his do-not-argue-with-me looks. “We’ll let you touch something of hers, but I want to be there. There’s not going to be any more unnecessary risks to your health. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, torn over having to wait. “When you visit Anthony Holmes, see Derek too. I don’t know about him. I had a strange reaction when he was ready to leave.”

  Brock nodded. Trent followed her out of the building. God, she hoped she got something from Richard Thompson.

  Trent marched to the Jeep beside her. Once inside she turned to look at him, knowing he’d been dying to say something. “OK, what is it?”

  She thought he might be ready to yell at her over what she had almost done, and her hackles rose. But instead he cupped her face and kissed her on the lips.

  “I know it’s driving you crazy to see all these dead girls and not be able to figure out who did it.” He slid his thumb over her jaw, back and forth. “Especially since you have to see what you do all the time, but you need to remember that in order to find this guy you have to stay ahead of him. You can’t do something that will muddle your brain and stop you from thinking clearly. Or something that will jeopardize the case or the evidence.”

  Her heartbeat quickened to a loud gallop in her chest. He shifted, ready to sit back on his seat, when she gripped his T-shirt. She yanked him back toward her. Why she did it, she didn’t know. She kissed him with all the pent-up desire she’d been feeling for him, with all the frustration she knew filled her brain. He just sat there and drank it all in. It was the most therapeutic kiss of her entire life.

  Anger and frustration melted away with the soft swipes of his tongue over hers. His hands cupped her face and gently caressed her cheeks. The kiss went from hard and fast to slow and seductive in the blink of an eye. She sighed into the softer kiss. Emotions ran rampant inside her, unlocking doors that she’d never opened for any other man.

  Trent propelled back, away from her. His features softened into a warm smile, a smile that spoke of a lot of things, all of which made it hard for her to swallow. But he didn’t say any more, just sat back and started driving, leaving her to try and figure out what the hell she was going to do about him. Emotions were messy. Did she want to try? Was it possible he wanted something long-term? A soft sigh escaped her. She wouldn’t dwell on that now there was a killer to catch.

  They had just parked by Richard Thompson’s apartment building when Erica’s phone rang.

  “Villa.” She didn’t recognize the number on the screen.

  “Hey, it’s Donovan.”

  Erica glanced at her phone’s screen again. “This isn’t your usual number, Donovan.”

  Her teammate laughed. “I know. I’m testing a new phone and decided to try it on you. Listen, I’m calling to tell you about Richard Thompson. Brock said you guys were going to interview him.”

  She glanced up at the five-story building. If she went by its appearance, Richard Thompson was another wealthy boy. “Yeah, we’re outside his apartment building now.”

  “Ok, well you guys be careful. He’s a known marijuana dealer and will most likely try to run if he thinks you’re there to arrest him.”

  “Thanks for the heads up. I’ll let Trent know, and we’ll be on guard.” She shut off the phone. Unsnapping her holster, she pulled out her gun. Trent did the same. “Thompson is a drug dealer, which is probably why everyone in the school is friends with him on Facebook.” One tug on the door handle and she was able to hop out of the Jeep. Moments later Trent rushed around the vehicle, catching up with her before heading to the entrance, each gripping their weapons.

  Trent nodded as they made their way into the building. “Makes sense. There’s nobody that popular unless something else is in the mix.” He grinned and winked at her. “At least, guys aren’t usually that popular.”

  Opting for the stairs, since Thompson lived in the second level, they took note of the exits. When they reached Thompson’s door, Erica pulled her tank top low, until it showed a major amount of cleavage. Then she knocked, arching her back to push her breasts out some more. She knew Trent watched her, so she smiled slyly at him and pursed her lips in an air kiss. A moment later the kid known as Thompson
opened the door, and his gaze immediately dropped down to Erica’s rack.

  “Hi,” she whispered, moving a foot to block the door from getting closed. But it was unnecessary; the kid’s eyes were stuck on her breasts. “Are you Ricky?”

  “Who’s…ah, who’s asking?” His eyes hadn’t moved up from her boobs. She could have turned out to be a man, and he wouldn’t have noticed. “My friend Melissa spoke about him to me.” Her voice lowered. “She told me I could come see him, and he could get me something to help me relax.” She hoped her voice sounded sexy enough.

  Thompson opened the door a little wider to get a better look at her. Erica and Trent used that moment to hold the door open, though neither attempted to force their way into the apartment.

  “Hey! What the—”

  “You have two choices, kid. You talk to us now, or we can wait here and call the nice guys from Narcotics to come join in the party.”

  The kid let go of the door, his eyes darting all over the place as if ready to make a run for it.

  Before he had a chance to move a muscle, Trent had him by the neck. He shoved him further into the apartment and down on a chair.

  “What the hell do you want?” Thompson yelled, fighting Trent’s grip. Unfortunately for him, Trent was big, strong, and unfazed by his escape attempts.

  Trent snarled at Thompson. “Look, we have some questions. We’re not here about your little operation. But like I said, if you prefer we can sit here and wait for Narcotics to come over and have a nice chat with you…”

  The kid gave a quick shake of his head.

  “I thought you’d see it my way. We need to know about some murder victims you were acquainted with. And we need to ask you some questions to see what you know and also rule you out as a suspect. Can you sit there without trying to leave?”

  Thompson nodded and glanced up at Erica with big, frightened eyes. She stepped toward him, holding out her hand.

  “I’m agent Villa, FBI.” By the looks of him she knew he wasn’t the killer, but she needed to make sure.

  The kid hesitated for a moment, but Trent’s gun still pointing his way must have intimidated him enough to move. Thompson lifted a shaky hand and enveloped hers. Other than the kid having a very cold skin, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. She wanted to yell in frustration.

  “Did you know Lisa Summers, Gina Torres, and Melanie Lee?” She sat across from Thompson.

  Thompson gulped. It shocked her to see that the popular dealer resembled a snotty little kid. If he was one hundred pounds she’d be shocked.

  “How old was he?” She didn’t realize she’d asked the question out loud until he answered.

  “I’m seventeen.”

  Her disbelief must’ve shown because he continued. “I’m in an early college program.”

  “So let me get this straight. You’re a smart kid. Really smart from the looks of it. You get into college much earlier than most people, and you decide to ruin your chances of succeeding by selling weed?” Trent growled.

  Thompson rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well not everyone is a chick magnet or Mr. Popularity. I did what I had to. You don’t know what it’s like to have to worry about everyone wanting to pick on you if you don’t have something going for you. I wasn’t going to be the kid everyone picked on in high school and then in college too.”

  Trent clenched his jaw and appeared ready to argue with the boy, but Erica stopped him with her question. “Did you know those girls?”

  Thompson glanced down at his lap, folding and unfolding his thin fingers. “Yes.”

  “How did you know them?” She prodded.

  The boy’s skin had turned a deep shade of red from either embarrassment or anger. She’d guess embarrassment from the way his reedy frame shook. His T-shirt looked two sizes too big, and his glasses overwhelmed his small face. She almost felt bad for him. Almost.

  Thompson gulped, lifted his head, and gaped at Erica, fear clear in his gaze. “I sold a guy they dated some stuff. Derek Holmes. He always came with a different girl.”

  Always back to Holmes. “What about other guys, did you see any of them with anyone else?”

  Richard shook his head. “Sometimes Derek and the girls came with his brother, but mostly it was just him and whoever he was dating.”

  Erica’s frustration had to have shown on her face, because Trent moved beside her, grabbed her hand, and held it for a moment. She turned to him, but he was focused on Thompson.

  Trent sighed. “Look kid, I know fitting in is hard.”

  Thompson curled his lip, his eyes filled with disbelief.

  “Yeah, I do know. When I was your age I looked just like you, probably worse since I had four older sisters who tried to make me look like their version of cool. But then I hit a growth spurt, and I filled out. The thing is you can’t lower your standards just to make friends. You lose part of yourself if you do.”

  Erica stood, and they strolled to the door. She stopped just shy of the threshold and turned to the boy. “We’re not going arrest you…this time. But if you don’t want to be reported and kicked out of this school, you will get rid of whatever merchandise you have and stop the sales,” she ordered, her tone firm. “I’m coming back to check on you, and I’m not giving you advance notice.”

  Thompson darted over to his desk drawer, pulled out a plastic bag filled with his product, and ran back to them. He handed the bag over to Trent.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, glancing from Trent to Erica. “I’m done. It was giving me ulcers to sell that stuff anyway. I was always worried I’d get found out.”

  To drive home the importance of what he had done, Erica lifted a brow, wiping any and all concern from her features. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. Normally I’d have kicked your ass, arrested you, and then told your parents. I hope you don’t give me a reason to still do that.”

  Thompson’s pale face got a shade lighter, and he hunched in on himself.

  She was of the belief that sometimes you needed to scare the crap out of some people for them to realize the dumb shit they were doing.

  Outside the building Trent grabbed her by the waist and kissed her. “What was that for?”

  “You’re so hot when you get bitchy.” He grinned and kissed her again.

  It took a moment for her to absorb what he’d said. When she did she growled at him. “Asshole.”

  He chuckled. “No baby, I prefer pussy, but if you really want to try I’ll give it a go.”

  She couldn’t stay angry when he always came back with some sexual response. He was incorrigible.

  While they drove, her mind focused on what was left. She needed to touch something of Melanie Lee’s, and she hoped to be able to see more than with the previous two victims. Things were moving too slow for her liking. To top it off, she now had Trent and how he made her feel to worry about. Life didn’t seem to get any simpler for her.

  “Stop thinking so hard.” He squeezed her hand over her lap. She glanced his way and caught him smiling. “I can see your brain trying to figure out how to handle me.”

  The nerve of the man. OK, so maybe that’s exactly what she’d been doing, but he didn’t need to point it out. “Yeah? And what do you suggest I do?”

  “Just go with the flow.” He grinned and went back to focusing on the road. He was right. She’d have to wait and see what he was about before she stopped having sex with him.

  By the time they finished their visit with Thompson it was late. Erica was tired and hungry, and she could only assume Trent was too. Her phone rang just as she contemplated stopping for a bite to eat.

  “Hi, Brock.”

  “Villa. Everything OK?”

  She sighed. “All is still the same.”

  Silence met her words. “I want you both back here. We’ll debrief and see where we stand. It’s late anyway.”

  When they got there, Donovan was setting food on the table.

  “Don’t worry, I didn’t cook,” she joked. Everyone in the depa
rtment knew Donovan couldn’t cook worth a damn. She’d tried to bring things when they had potlucks but her food always went uneaten. She was such a good sport she’d never taken offense but continued to try whenever the opportunity presented itself. The woman was certainly persistent. Too bad she sucked at it.

  “So if you’re not poisoning us, er…I mean if you didn’t make this, where did it come from?” Trent grinned and grabbed a biscuit.

  Donovan slapped his other hand when he went for a piece of chicken. “Remember the lady you guys went to visit, where Gina Torres lived?”

  “Ms. Lipkin?” Erica laughed when Ramirez went to grab a roll, only to get smacked much harder than necessary by Jane.

  “Yeah. She sent a bunch of food and said ‘she couldn’t have those two handsome young men starving.’” Donovan slapped Ramirez again when he made a second attempt. He pouted like a sulking kid, which made both women laugh.

  “Jesus. What is it with you women and violence?” Ramirez complained and sat down, waiting for everyone so they could eat.

  “Tell me about it, bro. I’m gonna have to teach Erica to relax or sleep with one eye open. She’s vicious I tell you.” He then dodged a balled napkin Erica threw at him. “See what I mean?”

  “Whatever happened to loving and obeying your man?” Ramirez asked, shaking his head.

  Erica lifted her brows and glared at Trent. “Whatever happened to shutting your mouth for self-preservation? I thought you wanted to live well into old age? Keep talking.”

  “Sweetheart, you know that was all Ramirez,” Trent said and shrugged at Ramirez’s outraged gasp. “Sorry man, but you know how it is. She’s got the goods so she’s in charge.” He used his serious voice.

  Erica and Donovan burst into giggles. One thing was for sure, if she decided to try a relationship with Trent, she’d never be bored.