Hidden Crimes (5 page)

She could see he was struggling not to plead
with his eyes. To her, this only increased his persuasiveness. “I
can’t promise I’d get an impression. Akashic reading isn’t my
specialty.”

“But you’d try. I mean—” He seemed to recall
himself. “Maybe I shouldn’t ask you to look. What happened there
might be bad.”

“I’ve seen bad,” she reminded softly,
thinking of Christophe lying in his hospital bed, recovering from
his burns so slowly he almost could have been human. “I pull people
out of fires.”

Nate’s hands clasped her upper arms, his
fingers squeezing them lightly. He made her sorry she’d worn a
sweater for the store’s AC. “I’ll stay with you the whole time. You
won’t have to go inside physically.”

She nearly smiled. Like a lot of men, he
confused her relatively small human form with fragility. “Let me
call my mother. Make sure she can stay with the kids. Just
remember, I have to get home at some point. I won’t be able to try
for long.”

“I won’t ask you to,” he promised. He
squeezed her arms again. “Thank you, Evina. This means a lot to
me.”

She could see it did—and then she had to
wonder if a werewolf’s gratitude ought to please her so much.

~

The first time Nate laid eyes on Evina his
nerves had sat up and woofed. She was female with a capital
F
. Exotic and curvy, everything about her said
soft
.
He’d known a lot of women, but her face mesmerized: that creamy
skin, those flying brows, the siren’s mouth that—so far as he could
tell—was naturally the color of a good cabernet. Her walk made him
bite his lip, especially the rear view. Her long curly hair was as
black as a raven’s wing, the sort that made men fantasize about it
brushing them. He’d only seen her wear it braided, and it hung to
her rounded butt. Best of all (though it was a strange best for
him) her eyes were huge and golden, surrounded by thick dark lashes
like a doe out a cartoon.

Those eyes should have warned him she was a
tigress; he’d sensed right off she was a were from her energy. When
the truth had hit him, it was too late. He’d already caught a bad
hankering for her.

He hadn’t sealed the deal with a single
female since his shopping cart first bumped hers.

This made what he was doing, waiting for her
out in the parking lot, monumentally stupid. No matter what
happened when she saw that room, Nate would end up worse off. If
she weren’t freaked out, he’d respect her more. If she were, she’d
probably never want to see him again. The sudden sick dropping of
his stomach warned him how much he’d miss that.

Even if it led to nothing, he looked forward
to bantering with her.

Crap
, he thought as she came back from
making her cell phone call.

“Everything’s fine,” she said with the
naturally sexy smile that never failed to tighten his trousers. “My
mother has decided to be a saint tonight.”

“Good.” Gritting his teeth, he gently clasped
her elbow to escort her through the rows of cars. She’d removed her
light cotton sweater. Underneath, she wore a sleeveless fitted
blouse the color of tangerines. She’d paired it with plain white
capris. Bare now, the skin of her arm was satin, its muscles warm
beneath his fingers. They’d put her groceries in the trunk of her
car, which was spelled to keep things cool. For now, they were
leaving her vehicle here. All she carried was the giant tote no
mother seemed able to leave home without.

She clutched it and laughed when she caught
sight of his transport.

“Really?” she chuckled, little snorts coming
from her nose. “You drive a vintage Goblinati? Nate, you know
that’s a total skirt-chaser’s car.”

“I know it’s fast,” he said, secretly amused
by her hilarity. “And I think I ought to get points for not buying
it in red.”

He held the passenger door for her, noting
how neatly she swung her trim calves inside. Because noticing made
this feel too much like a date, he worked a frown onto his face and
circled to the driver’s side.

By the time he slid behind the wheel, she’d
buckled up and turned her body toward his. Her legs were pulled up
beneath her, her cheek at rest on the soft leather. The pose was
catlike, her gorgeous curves relaxed and molded into the car’s
contours. Nate thought about how flexible she must be, how small
compared to him. His cock hardened without warning, stretching his
black jockstrap. Just looking at her and having her look back was
more powerful than most kisses.

Unsettled by that knowledge, he inserted the
key and spoke. “Where we’re going isn’t far, at least not the way I
drive.”

She smiled at him sleepily, a tired woman at
the end of her day. He realized she was comfortable with him. He
liked that better than he could say.

“Feel free to catnap,” he teased drolly.

She smiled again and, to his surprise, took
him up on the offer.

She slept until he stopped the car at the old
blanket factory. Adam had made some inroads with his string
pulling. Though the plywood still listed crookedly on the front
entrance, a cat’s cradle of police tape warned people to keep out.
Better still, the RPD had installed a discreet watch spell. If
their mystery perpetrator came back this way, his image would be
recorded.

Nate looked around but didn’t sense anyone
nearby. Apart from a distant clanking down by the river, the
neighborhood appeared abandoned.

“This is the place?” Evina asked, shutting
her door quietly. Stiff from her nap, she laced her fingers above
her head and stretched. Despite the circumstances, Nate couldn’t
tear his gaze away. The way her breasts lifted with her movements
was gasp-worthy.

She caught him staring and laughed softly.
“You are excellent for my ego, Detective Rivera.”

Her use of his title, pleasurable though it
was, reminded him of their mission. “We should go inside. I know
it’s important for you to be undisturbed when you’re
projecting.”

Though her eyes stayed warm, her smile
slipped away. She nodded for him to go ahead of her. Once they’d
both ducked beneath the tape, Nate led the way with the powerful
police issue flashlight he kept stowed in his glove box. The dirty
stairs didn’t look any better under its beam. Evina sucked in a
breath when a rat the size of a rabbit scampered across their
path.

She wasn’t afraid. Rats were prey to
tigresses, even if they did make for disgusting meals—definitely
not interchangeable with chicken.

“Wait here,” Nate said when they reached the
swinging doors to the second floor corridor. “I want to check the
way ahead.”

Evina gave him an eye roll, reminding him she
faced danger everyday.

“I’m the one with the gun,” he said, pointing
to his ankle.

That comment widened her eyes. He supposed it
hadn’t occurred to her that he’d go armed to the grocery store.
Satisfied she’d stay, he checked the length of the hall. As he’d
expected, no one was there but them.

He returned to her, belatedly sorry he’d left
her by herself in a pitch-black stairwell. His estimation of her
nerves went up another notch when he saw how calm she was.

They continued together to the strange room
he’d found. It too was webbed in crime scene tape. Nate reached
through the plastic strips and pushed the door open. The repulsion
spell had dissipated, but Evina felt something. A shudder big
enough to see shook her slim shoulders. She set her jaw more
determinedly.

“I need to sit down for this,” she said.

Abruptly regretting that he hadn’t grabbed
his leather jacket from the back of the car, Nate used his boot to
scuff a circle clear of clutter on the cracked concrete floor.

Evina grimaced and lowered herself to it, her
face oriented to the doorway. “It’ll help if you stand behind me.
Touching another person anchors me.”

Nate moved behind her so that his knees
touched her back. Cross-legged, she wrapped her arms around his
calves. He was anxious enough that the contact didn’t give him the
sexual charge it otherwise would have.

Evina closed her eyes and started to breathe
slowly.

He saw why she’d won a medal for this skill.
In seconds, he felt her energy slip into a trance state. Light
flickered through her aura, which was expanding rapidly. The air
around them grew cooler as she drew on the ambient magic their
half-fae city was famous for. The swiftness with which she threw
herself into the act made him want to protect her. Nate dropped one
hand to her head, which didn’t seem to disturb her.

His wolf let out a whine, audible only in his
mind. It wasn’t a sound of submission, despite Evina being alpha
when he was not. To him, his beast sounded as if it were concerned.
If it was, it didn’t have much time to be. Light flared brilliantly
in Evina’s heart center. Not wanting to be blinded. Nate narrowed
his eyelids.

The light coalesced into the form of a tiger
and padded out of her.

Nate’s breath—and probably his wolf’s as
well—caught like cotton candy inside his chest. Evina’s tigress was
the most beautiful feline he’d ever seen.

Though only a projection of astral energy,
her were form appeared solid. Night black stripes marked the
richest possible orange fur. She was much bigger as a tiger than a
human—bigger than his wolf, if it came to that. Her back came to
Nate’s waist, muscles rippling under that gorgeous pelt. When she
glanced back at him, light flashed behind the pupils of her gold
eyes. A growl rumbled from deep within her chest, her lips pulling
back in a obvious threat. The hairs on Nate’s arms stood up, but
the sound inspired a thrill more than it did an urge to flinch.

He got the impression her beast was testing
him.

“Snarl all you want,” he said equably.
“You’re here because I trust you.”

She huffed, the resonant sound like a train
would make. Her lips relaxed back over her long canines. She swung
her great head away as if dismissing him.

Solid-looking or not, she prowled straight
through the crime scene tape.

~

Evina had practice concealing fear. As the
boss of people who risked death on a regular basis, she needed to
set an example. Level heads pulled firemen through tight spots.
Losing focus because of dread never helped anyone.

She ignored how much her tiger didn’t want to
enter that room.

Having Nate behind her helped, knowing he had
the gumption not to back down at her tigress’s threat display. She
allowed her awareness of her human body to slip away in favor of
more fully inhabiting her projection.

The metal beneath her paw pads was cool and
smooth, the sensation more elusive than it would have been if she
were solid.

She sniffed, pulling back her lips and
opening her mouth to taste the scents that were there. Beneath the
tang of steel, she picked up blood and perfumed smoke—perhaps from
a wood-based incense. The skin along her muscular shoulders
crawled, just as it had when Nate first opened the door. She
quartered the room, a big cat pacing a small cage. Three strides
took her long body across it.

Her more primitive mind opened, along with
the senses Nate called psychic. A cry teased her ear from someone
who wasn’t there. The sound was cut short. Evina’s tail flicked at
the distress this caused.

Barely aware she was doing it, she lay down
in her cat form and closed her eyes.

Images flooded her, as sharp as if the events
were happening in front of her. The vividness surprised her. She
hadn’t known she’d get such a clear reading. Three men stood in the
room, garbed in hospital green and masked like doctors. They were
huddled around a table with raised steel edges that formed a tray.
A child perhaps a year old lay in its center. The child was on its
back, sleepy but awake, dressed in clean blue pants and a striped
short-sleeved top with a cartoon fox on it. “I’m Tricky!” the shirt
declared. The barely scuffed condition of the child’s leather shoes
said it was only just walking.

The child seemed unalarmed by its strange
surroundings. Its big brown eyes gazed around, its chubby legs and
arms wriggling. The movements had caused its T-shirt to ruck up
over its navel.

One of the doctors pulled the shirt down and
patted the child’s belly. “He needs to die without violence, and
with as little fear as possible.”

His voice was low and soothing, nothing to
alarm the child. The other two doctors nodded behind their masks.
The one who’d spoken brought out a small pillow, the kind
stewardesses hand out on planes.

Evina’s astral tether gave a sharp tug,
trying to snap her back into her physical body. The part of her
that was a mother didn’t want to see what came next. The part of
her that faced whatever her job required countermanded it
ruthlessly.

“Hold his hands,” the first doctor said.

The other two complied, gently rubbing the
dimpled fingers with their milky white latex gloves. The first
doctor pressed the pillow over the child’s face.

The little boy laughed at first, thinking it
was a game. When he finally began to struggle, realizing he
couldn’t breathe, his back arched like a bow off the steel table.
His short arms and legs flung out, his entire body straining to get
air.

No
, Evina thought, correcting her
misimpression. The baby wasn’t straining to get air. He was
straining to change forms. Young though he was, instinctively he
was hoping to defend himself or escape.

This child was a shapeshifter.

The shock catapulted her into her human form,
which was bent over and moaning. Nate had dropped to his knees,
though she hadn’t been aware of him moving. His arms wrapped her
from behind, not tightly but close enough that his wolf warmth sank
into her. She needed it. She was shivering violently.

“I’m okay,” she said through clenched teeth.
She didn’t sound okay, even to herself. “Jesus.” Taking three slow
breaths, she pushed herself around to face him. His dark eyes were
wide, his supportive hold on her arms cautious.