Goddess With a Blade (9 page)

“Yep.” She turned and left the room.

He sat for a while and thought of the hundreds of reasons why having sex with her again would be disastrous but in the end he rose and followed her scent up a spiral stair and toward the steam coming from a half-closed door.

Their previous coupling had been so fast and furious he hadn’t really had the opportunity to take her in. So as he divested himself of his clothes, he watched her through the glass enclosure.

She was long and lean, athletic but possessing the kind of curves a man’s heart sped at the sight of. Her long, deep red hair was plastered down her spine as the water from the showerhead pelted her.

Not even looking up when he entered, she kept her eyes closed as she stood under the spray. He did sense a change in her awareness at his presence, the slight speed of her heartbeat.

He saw the Hunter’s mark, a brand just above her right hip, balanced by the mark of service of her father’s family on the inside of her wrist. A tattooed
fleur de lis
she’d most likely received at the age of eight or nine.

When her eyes snapped open and focused on him, the shock of it lit his every nerve. She wasn’t classically beautiful, though her body was. She was striking. She drew the eye because there was something remarkable about her. Her strength prowled just beneath her skin with a raw energy that seemed to charge the air around her. Like Vampires had auras, she had something very similar.

“Decided to walk on the wild side?”

“Shut up and let me wash my back.”

Laughing, she moved aside and let him get under the spray. It agitated him that she made him so discourteous. He was usually very solicitous to his sexual partners. Unless he was dressing someone down, he rarely lost his temper and even more rarely lost his control. With this human female, control was a constant battle.

She moved to leave the enclosure but he reached out and caught her about the waist and hauled her to his body. The heat of the water over his skin soothed the intensity of his need for her though not quenching it.

“Not so fast. It occurs to me, Hunter, that my cock has not been in your mouth and the idea appeals to me on two levels. One, how can any man not want his cock in that mouth? And two, with your mouth filled with cock, you can’t carp, complain or agitate me.”

“You’re pretty bossy for a man who wants to put his johnson near my teeth.”

“I have a feeling it may be worth my while.”

“Come on then. I’m not going to get to my knees on this tile, it hurts.”

She got out and tossed him a towel. It was then he noticed the scars on her lower back.

She turned and caught him staring at them. “Don’t.”

He shook his head, wanting to say more but letting it go. He’d have had scars too if Vampires scarred in all but the direst of injuries. Growing up at the knee of The First would not have been easy.

Instead of speaking, he followed her into a bedroom adjoining the bath. She jerked her head at him, indicating he should climb to the bed and he did.

He most definitely liked the view as she scrambled on after him and got to all fours over him.

Rowan knew she taunted danger. Her own people would have a conniption if they had any idea and his people would be equally upset. Perhaps that’s what fired her blood at the sight of him there, spread out below her.

Her fingertips followed the curve of his pectoral muscles, down the center of his chest, flirting with the sensitive skin of his belly just below his navel. The warmth of him rose against her body like seductive smoke. Vampires weren’t cold unless they hadn’t fed but this one had and the shower had warmed him too.

He was beautiful there below her. Eyes devouring her every move. Clive Stewart was confident, arrogant and cock-sure. Goddess help her, it was irresistible. So many men were cowed by her or afraid to fully own their own allure. This man did not have that trouble at all.

Dipping her head, her lips skated over his chest and headed south, scooting her body down as she kissed her way downward.

She meant to tease him, to make him beg but suddenly need rode her hard and she showed him it was very possible for her to carp at him and get the job done too. She was a multitasker.

She continued to move with him in her mouth until she was moved off him and found herself on her back.

A lock of his hair, usually so perfect, had fallen over his forehead, a gleam of feral intensity shone in his eyes as he loomed above her. Why it pleased her so much to muss him up, she didn’t know.

He delivered tiny, sharp bites to her breasts and nipples. Not to feed, just for the sensation. His hands roamed over her bare skin, fingertips played over the Hunter’s mark on her hip.

She writhed, helpless to do anything else as his mouth skated over her flesh. He knelt between her thighs, keeping her from squeezing her legs together to gain some measure of relief against the throbbing need.

And then he moved to make everything better.

The buzzing of the intercom from David roused her sometime later. She leaned over and watched as Clive padded into the room, dressed and all cleaned up. Stifling her annoyance that she didn’t get a chance to work on that neck tic thing anymore, she reached out to hit the call button.

“Yes?”

“
Déesse,
it’s the policeman. He’s here and he wants to see you. Are you indisposed?”

He must have seen Clive enter. All she could do was hope he just meant cleaning up a dead Vampire or still arguing with him.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll let him in myself.” Rowan got up and jogged into the closet, pulled on some clothes and brushed her hair into a ponytail.

“Policeman?”

“Yes and he’s not one to be underestimated, Clive. He’s very sharp and he’s the lead on the case.”

“Does he know about us?” Clive leaned in the doorway, watching her.

“I told you, I don’t violate the treaty. I’ve done my best to direct him with the first victim but I’d never do anything to make him believe it was Vampires.”

He chuckled and caught her arm as she passed. “No, I mean does he know we’re…that we’ve…? Why is he going to think the man who runs the largest casino resort in town is here with you at three in the morning?”

“Goddess, this is not what I need right now.” She sighed. “Walking and talking.” She went down the stairs first. “Jack and I are friends. Have been for years and yes, some years ago we were more. But that’s not what we are to each other now. He’s very protective of me though. Frankly there’s no way to explain away your presence here or the obvious fact that we’ve had sex recently. So, let me do the talking. Don’t you need to go? The sun’s coming.”

He laughed again and tossed himself on a couch in her living room. “I can be home in less than a minute and I’ve got some time before sunrise. I’d like to meet Jack.”

“Yeah, I can tell you’re a real chatterbox social butterfly and stuff. Don’t cause trouble or I’ll stake you.” She tromped over to the door and opened it, going into the hall to unlock the elevator.

Jack stalked in her door less than a minute later, fury on his face. “What the fuck is going on? There’s another body. Of course you know this I’m sure.”

He stopped and gaped at Clive, who sat on her couch all elegance and male sexuality personified. “Didn’t know you were
occupied.
” Jack’s words held an edge meant to slice.

“Now you do. Jack Elroy, this is Clive Stewart. He was just leaving.”

Clive stood, using that preternatural grace the Vampires had, and held his hand out to Jack. “I can certainly stay for another few minutes to meet your friend, Rowan.”

He even managed to sound chiding, the bastard. Or prick since he informed her his parents had been married at the time of his birth.

Despite her annoyance, the memory of the way he’d said it made her smile just a little as she watched the two of them. Hands clasped in a handshake, they were currently engaged in a test of the relative manliness of each other’s grip without squeezing too hard.

Momentarily she’d get pissed off at this testosterone-laced pissing contest, but she let them get on with it for a few moments.

“How long have you known our Rowan?” Jack asked, taking his hand back and checking Clive over.

“We’ve got friends in common but we’ve
known
each other for several months now.”

“Rowan and I go back
years.
I never heard your name before.”

“So, not to interrupt this moment or anything, but why are you here at three in the morning and mad at me?” Rowan turned to Jack but not before delivering a glare to Clive.

“I’ll wait until your guest leaves. This is police business.”

Any minute and they’d be measuring dicks and asking who she liked best. She already wanted to punch them both in the face for being so ridiculous.

There’d be no end to it until she shoved Clive out the door, and in truth, she needed some distance from him. She very much liked the way he looked in her house and she knew her sheets would smell of him too. These were not unpleasant things and they should be. She could not be sentimental about him, not knowing what he was.

“Clive, I’ll speak to you soon. Thank you for coming by.” She tried to usher him out but just in the doorway he caught her, pulled her against his body and delivered a devastating kiss that left her knees shaking. Even as she knew what it was—a taunt to the other male in the room—it still left her breathless.

“I’ll be in touch. You can bet on it, Rowan.” He grinned and strolled into the waiting elevator and slid out of sight as it descended.

Steeling herself, she turned to Jack. “What is going on?”

“Why are you with the guy who runs Die Mitte? This is new.”

“Another body?”

“You’ve been ducking my calls, Rowan.”

“Jack,
tell me
about the new body.”

“You can’t take my calls but you can go on dates?”

She exhaled sharply. “I called you back several times. You can’t seem to let go of me heading out to Barstow and the one time we managed to get together for a drink Lisa called and you scampered away. I know you’re mad I didn’t tell you, but I’ve explained I can’t always share immediately. I’ve apologized for hurting your feelings and I’ll do it again for good measure. I’m sorry. Now that we’ve reestablished that, will you please tell me about the other body?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. We found another vic earlier tonight. Very similar MO to the last one. You know the one you sandbagged me on until you questioned her family? What has your source told you? I know you have one.”

“We already went over that. As far as I’m concerned it’s done and I’m not discussing the Barstow thing with you from that angle ever again. As for the rest? My source didn’t know anything. I was going to wait until morning and call you to see. I don’t know anything more than another body was found with similar patterns to the first.”

She sat on the couch and he followed, sitting across from her.

“Rowan, this is serious shit. These women were brutalized. You can’t hold back on me.”

“I’m not! Jack, do you honestly think if I knew who this killer was I’d not tell you? I want this monster taken out just as much as you do. Tell me what you know so I can help. I
will
help, you know that.”

“Drained of blood. Left about a quarter mile from the first body. Same sort of thing only there were footprints, just the ones of the elderly couple who’d been out on a nature walk and stumbled across the body. She’d been dead about twenty-four hours before discovery and we don’t think she was killed at the scene. Bites all over her, chunks of her flesh taken out. He must have left her exposed at another scene or sicced an animal on her. We think the bites happened while she was still alive. Sexual activity but again, a condom was used. No positive identification yet but her dental records have been sent out and there’s a missing-persons check too.”

He pulled a file out and tossed it across the low table.

“Thank you, Jack. I swear to you I’m going to do all I can to take this bastard out. I’ll let you know what I find. Go home, you look like hell.”

He stood and headed toward the door. “Don’t you dare fucking hide any new information from me, Rowan. I’d hate to have to arrest you for obstruction.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Fuck off, Jack. Get out and go home.”

And she was alone with a file bulging with photographs of a woman who got in the way of something scarier than any horror movie she’d ever imagined.

Chapter Twelve

It had taken another half a day for the cops and forensics people to clear out. She hadn’t been able to sleep at all. After Jack had left she’d gotten to work again and before she knew it, it was already midmorning and time to head out to the scene.

The place filled her with dread when she walked through it. Something very, very bad had been on this earth. She bent, closing her eyes, her palms flat where the body had been. The shock of it, of the depth of the horror the woman had faced traveled up and into Rowan’s senses with brutal force, nearly making her gag.

She stood, wiping her hands on the front of her pants, ignoring the small furry-animal part of her urging flight from the pain and horror.

The woman hadn’t been killed there. But when she’d been dropped to the ground like a bag of garbage, it had only been perhaps five minutes from the time her heart had stopped beating. She’d still been alive during all the ripping and tearing. All Rowan could do was hope the victim had now found peace.

Thankful for the stupid amount of traffic, she headed to the office, using the time to chase away the dread. She’d seen death and torture. She’d
been
tortured. And still, there was something more about this case. What she needed was a paranormal profiler. She could call her old instructor at MacLean, but he couldn’t profile a Vampire serial killer. He knew there were people like Rowan who dealt with the big bad unknowns of the world, but what she needed was someone who understood the Vampire mindset.

With an explosive sigh, she pulled into the lot at her office and realized
she
was it. Great.

She couldn’t be like the world’s premier expert on knitting or what beachside resorts were best. No. Not that.

She got to be the chick from
Silence of the Lambs,
Clarice Starling, only with serial killers who were Vampires.

Yay.

Though a nagging voice in her head reminded her Theo could give her some insight on this. Goddess knew he understood the whys and hows of Vampire bloodlust. She hadn’t spoken to him in years. Moreover, she wasn’t sure it would be a positive to include him on the case, or back in her life.

“We got an ID on the second victim.” Carey didn’t look up when she came in, engrossed in whatever he was reading on his screen. She moved to him, grabbing his coffee and taking a drink. “Name’s Tricia Gale. Twenty-seven. Two kids living with the paternal grandparents. Worked here in Vegas as a cocktail waitress at The Golden Peacock.”

Her lip curled. “The icky place way off the Strip? The one that smells like a delightful combo of pee and vomit?”

Carey laughed. “I see you’ve been there. That’s the one. She worked there for eight months. Before that she did three stints in rehab starting at nineteen.”

Rowan sat on the corner of his desk. “Meth?”

“First time it was Oxycontin. Then crystal meth the last two times. Kids are with Grandma and Grandpa, have been for three years since Mom left them at home alone for four days while she was off on a bender. Dad’s doing time for dealing. Wholesome crew.”

“Lovely. Have the cops identified her?”

“Yes. Jack Elroy called here looking for you. He said the casino had called after her boss, also her sponsor’s husband, went to her apartment when she didn’t show up for work twice in a row. Had a key, but didn’t need one. Door was open. Blood everywhere. They called it in and ID’d her as the vic.”

“I’ve got to get into that apartment. I’ll head over to see. Address?”

Carey handed her a file. “It’s all here. All the info I could find on her. It’s not pretty. She wasn’t really on the straight and narrow, but it looks like she was trying her best. This Vampire, Ro, you need to keep an eye out. Don’t let yourself be the next victim.”

“Pfft. This fucker is going down. I will stake him myself.”

“Don’t be cavalier.” He stood and took her shoulders. “Baby, this is crazy shit. Like
Natural Born Killers
shit. A Vampire serial killer is a whole shitload of trouble. You’re strong and smart and all that stuff, but this Vamp is batshit crazy. Don’t underestimate him, it, whatever.”

She smiled, unable to be unmoved by his concern. “Thank you. But I know. I do. I’m not taking chances. I don’t anyway, but I get it. Yes, he’s crazy and we have to stop him before he exposes them all.”

“Might be for the best if they did get exposed. I’m a little sick of being seen as lunch, you know?”

Rowan wanted to laugh. But he was part right.

“What? Aren’t you supposed to tell me it’s our job to uphold the treaty and keep them hidden?”

“Frankly, I don’t know what my job is sometimes.” She briefly considered sneaking a cigarette, but she knew she’d get sick because the Goddess wasn’t having any of that in Her Vessel.

It was what was best. What kept her strong of mind and body. Her blade must always be sharp. Theo said this, as well. When his
lessons
were finished, he’d patiently clean her up. Tend to her wounds with gentle hands, soothing her with words.

She hadn’t understood at first. But he’d made the first scars. Had toughened her up. He’d broken her down and rebuilt her into something far more than human. The first time the Goddess had come to Rowan, she’d been ready.

Of late, she’d wondered if Theo hadn’t known her future from the start. He had a touch of farsight. Manipulations and subtle maneuvering would put her exactly where he wanted her to be and she’d never know for sure if he’d done it to help her, or because he was an insane, violent man who did it because it had amused him to do so.

Carey waved a hand before her face, catching her attention. “Scares me when you lose your way.”

She took his hand and squeezed, laughing. He wasn’t the only one. “My way is not the same as my job. Or the treaty for that matter. My path is predetermined. I serve Her. I serve righteousness and that will always be. If the Nation doesn’t deal with this rogue, they’ll be exposed. It’s most definitely
not
my job to save them from their own ego. If they end up on the front page, it’s their doing, not mine.”

And still, her gut churned at what a mess there’d be if such a thing happened. Exposure could bring any number of responses, most of them not good for anyone.

A cornered predator was the most dangerous kind.

She’d do what she was born to do. End of story. All the moping and poor pitiful me moments weren’t going to change that. She stood. “Now, I’m off to her apartment. I’ll call Jack on the way. Keep on it. I want to know where she went to rehab and if there’s any connection with the first vic.”

“On it already.”

“Knew you would be.” She paused when she got to the door. “And I appreciate it.” That’s when she noticed the front desk was empty. Again. “And where the fuck is Cindy? She didn’t ask for a vacation day, not that she has any left. I thought she wanted to be more active with investigatory stuff?”

Carey sighed. “She called in sick. To her credit, she did sound pretty bad.”

“Next time she calls in sick, you transfer her to me. Sick days are not for when you drink too much the night before, or for every Monday.”

On her way over to the apartment, she put Jack’s call on speaker. “Glad you could be bothered to call back.”

“Get over it. You’re acting like a fucking baby. Do you want to talk to me about this situation or are you going to pout more? I’m too busy to hold your hair while you vomit your issues.”

He laughed. “You’re such a bitch.”

“HBIC, baby, all the way. Head bitch in charge. So tell me about her.”

“I’m at her apartment now. Forensics is done and we’re sealing.”

Whatever. As if that could keep her out.

“Since we both know that won’t stop you, I’ll wait for you here and then you can take me to lunch.”

“Fine. I’m about three minutes away.”

Wow, her car did not fit into this neighborhood at all. Then again, no one would touch it, even if they had no idea why. She whipped it into a spot and stepped out, glad she’d opted for her heavier work boots. Stepping on something less than pleasant looked to be a certainty.

Jack waited for her outside the door to the apartment. She took the booties for her shoes, hating that she had to use another barrier between her and the surfaces inside, but understanding the necessity.

“Carey got me up to speed on her basics.” She nodded her thanks as she pulled on the gloves and went inside after him.

And then she was glad she had a barrier between her and the surfaces inside.

It hit her, even as she had to pretend it didn’t. Something very, very bad happened in the apartment. More than once, she wagered as the impressions were all layered on top of each other. Tricia had fallen off the wagon and had been engaging in some far less-than-safe behavior in this place.

“She wasn’t killed here.” Rowan bent to examine a blood spatter in the cramped dining space to the left of the equally cramped kitchen.

“Lots of blood for you to say that. Why do you think so?”

“This isn’t blood from the murder. It’s too old for that. She’s shooting the meth up here. Or others are. There’s a lot of fluid all over the place. But what was done to her, well that would be a lot messier.” She curled her lip. Fluid. Ick.

“Aren’t you glad you know what it looks like in a junkie squat instead of filling your head with recipes for meatloaf?” Jack’s voice held a tinge of bitterness.

“I hate meatloaf.” She stood, not taking the bait. “Tricia here, how long had she been using again? Have you spoken to her family? What about the sponsor?”

“How do you know this stuff?”

“You’re a cop, Jack. Surely you figured that out the same way I did. Doesn’t take a genius to look at this place and know she was getting fucked up regularly. And more. Was she tricking?” She paused to look at a picture hanging askew on the wall near the bedroom. The bedroom she really didn’t want to go into. “She was pretty once.”

“Once. Yeah. I spoke to the grandmother already. Grandma says no contact between Mom and kids for seven months. They’ve never been here. Tricia had been evicted, which tipped her into rehab the last time. She couch-hopped awhile and then ended up here. The sponsor is ducking me.”

“What about the boss? Tweakers aren’t known for regular work attendance.”

“We processed a warrant for all her records.”

Yeah, she’d have a little talk with Carey when she left Jack, to get those records herself. If they were on a computer or could be bribed away, she’d get those records.

“What’s up with the sponsor ducking you? There warrants or something?”

“It’s bad in there.” His voice was easy, a caution without being an order.

Bad
wasn’t nearly enough for what the bedroom was. Even before she’d completed the first step, it hit her. Blood. Lots of it. Pain. Hopelessness. Rowan dug her nails into her palms, willing her heart to slow and her breathing to regulate.

He had been there, in this small space.
Almonds.
So he was old and it was a he, she felt that too. Though, she bent to touch the bedding, breathing through her mouth now, another woman had been there, as well. A human woman.

They’d started it here. Images pressed against her closed lids. Impressions more than memories. What had been done to Tricia was an abomination. She would rid the planet of this vermin if it took her until the end of her days.

And still she managed to continue to comb over the room.

Jack spoke, jolting her from the vengeance coursing through her. “Sponsors are protective. They don’t want to betray confidences and that sort of thing. But…they get tight and I can’t think of a single time when a sponsor wasn’t willing to do everything they could to help in situations like this.”

He burst into movement, shoving a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Like
this.
Fuck. There’s never been anything like this and I don’t like it one bit that this woman is ducking me. This case is all wrong, Rowan. I can feel it. There’s something I’m not seeing. I do know my gut feeling is this sponsor was doing the shit with her, or knew about it at the very least.”

Rowan took a deep breath. And that right there was the crux. This was ten thousand kinds of fucked up. How she’d manage to deal with this Vampire and keep the cops from suspecting it was more than just a crazy dealer, she wasn’t sure. Thank goodness for media, always playing up the gruesome in day-to-day life. Because of that, she might just make it out of this without any trouble.

She was sick to death of trouble.

“I agree. There’s a point when silence stops making any sense. I’ll dig and see what I see. She work at The Peacock too?”

“Yeah. First evening shift. Starts at six.”

“I’m on it.”

“Thanks.” It was still slightly sullen, but it felt good to be in sync with him again.

Things got quiet as she focused on the details of the bedroom. The stench of dirty clothing, unwashed bodies, drugs, vomit and all manner of bodily fluid assaulted her.

“Looks like they got started here. Still, there’s not enough blood here for it to have been done in the apartment.” She straightened, letting her senses unfurl and take in as much as possible. “Even in this neighborhood, unless our vic was unconscious when he did her, there is no way people wouldn’t have noticed a murder like hers being perpetrated next door. The sounds would have been, well, you know what I mean. But he was here I think.” Not that she could explain how she knew it.

“There’s more blood and chaos than can be explained away, even by the using. And yes, we believe she was tricking.” Jack put his arms over his chest and she knew he agreed, but was annoyed she came up with the same opinion so quickly.

Was she one of those humans who trafficked in blood to the Vamps? She’d have to deal with Clive. His people could find out that information far quicker than she could.

“Yes, something definitely happened here. But she wasn’t dead when she left here. Whatever was done was finished elsewhere.” Rowan moved to the door, needing to escape.

“And I’m wondering if Tricia did her rehab time with Tammy. Did they know each other?”