IK3 (9 page)

and now these victims are found. Has Smith mentioned receiving any

unusual messages?”

Chloe had the strange feeling that he was fishing for something. “I wouldn’t

know.”

“Miss Whitney!” Gavin called. “Would you join us over here?”

She knew he was just trying to get her away from the conversation, but her

heart fluttered strangely anyway. It would be nice if maybe Gavin was a

little bit concerned. “Excuse me,” she said.

The officer glanced toward Gavin and Captain Johnson and snapped his

notepad shut. “Of course.”

When she joined them, Captain Johnson was looking past her. “Who was

that?”

She blinked at him. “One of your officers.”

“Did you get his name?”

“Um…no.”

“Badge number?”

“Um…no. Why?” She cringed inwardly at how inept she sounded. She usually

paid attention to small details.

The captain shook his head. “I just didn’t recognize him.”

“Dallas is a big PD,” she said and then glanced at Gavin who was also staring

past her. Chloe turned, but the young, blond officer was no where to be

seen. Caldwell had disappeared too, although the skinny reporter was still on

the street.

“Did you need me for something?” she asked.

She thought she saw Gavin’s dark eyes flicker with something that looked

like lust, but then decided her over-active imagination had taken over her

poor, befuddled brain. First red sparks and now—desire? She was losing it.

“Are you going to swoon again, Miss Whitney?” Gavin asked sharply.

There was nothing lustful in that tone. “I do not swoon.”

“Of course you don’t,” he replied in a tone that meant he didn’t believe a

word of what he said.

“I do not swoon,” she said again and then felt the world spin completely out

of her control.

****

lying on the sofa. “This is too much! That horrible murder out there and now

Chloe has fainted a second time at my house!”

“You think she’s pregnant?” Caldwell asked from across the room.

Gavin had not sensed a second heartbeat. Vampires had preternatural

perception to fetuses in any mammal, much like the sonar that dolphins

used. He shook his head. “Doubtful. Those maladies usually happen in the

morning.”

“Shall I call a doctor?” Mr. Smith asked.

If what Gavin suspected was wrong with her, no medical doctor would be

able to help. “I don’t think it will be necessary. Miss Whitney was probably

overcome with the crime scene.” In a sense, that was true, but not because

of her own lack of fortitude. In the short time he’d known her, she had

displayed a good deal of spunk.

Chloe had been psychically drained.

He’d felt it when he caught her outside. Her skin was as cool to the touch as

a vampire’s who had not fed in a good while. Her life essence was there, but

it was feeble, almost flickering. His kind could do that, but it required a bite

and he had not felt the presence of a vampire anywhere. A very powerful

witch or a demon would have that ability as well. Either could have been in

the crowd this evening, but the air had been filled with too much frenzied,

kinetic energy to hone in on that, not that he had been looking. He’d been

trying to piece together why the dragon was dropping bodies at Smith’s

mansion. He suspected it was Balor’s way of letting him know that he was

being watched.

Gavin looked down at Chloe. She was still pale, but not as deathly white as

before. He wished Nimue would make her presence known, the sooner the

better. Once the clue for the platter had been delivered, he could be on his

way looking for it. He was fairly sure that Sigurd would follow him, but Gavin

did not like the fact that two mortal women had disappeared in the process

of locating the spear and sword. He didn’t want Chloe—Miss Whitney—to be

the next target.

Of course, Nimue was probably scattering faerie dust somewhere, oblivious

to time in the real world.

Gavin edged himself onto the sofa and began massaging Chloe’s temples

lightly.

If he were alone with her, he could have tasted her blood to determine

exactly who—or what—had gotten into her mind, but with Smith and

Caldwell watching, he had to use a less obtrusive method.

“You are safe now.” He sent the thought silently. “You can come back to us.”

Her breathing deepened. Whatever had its hold on her was gone. In a few

minutes, she’d recover. Gavin eased himself away and as he did, a button

popped on her blouse, sliding off one shoulder and revealing the full

roundness of her breast. Quickly, he slipped the shirt back up before either

Caldwell or Smith had time to see what he just had. Under any other

circumstances, the sight of that luscious mound, a lacy bra barely covering a

pink nipple, would have had him salivating, but that wasn’t what had caught

his eye. Well, actually it had caught his eye—he was still a male, just an

immortal one—but it was something else that made a chill run down his

spine.

Chloe had a tiny red and gold dragon tattooed on the side of her breast.

He took a deep breath as she stirred and opened her eyes. Mr. Smith dashed

over to her with Caldwell close behind. Gavin ignored both of them, deep in

thought.

Was it possible that Sigurd had been following Chloe instead of him? The

likeness of the Pendragon, his nemesis, would certainly have attracted the

dragon. Some demon or witch had entered her mind this evening, so the link

was there.

If the dragon had attached itself to Chloe, the worst thing Gavin could do

was desert her while he went hunting for the platter. She would have no

idea of how to defend herself against it or the forces behind all of this.

Which meant, Gavin would have to take Chloe with him.

With the strange bloodlust urge he had when he was around her, Gavin

wasn’t sure which would be the most dangerous.

****

linen handkerchief and stared at Captain Johnson sitting in his study.

“Whatever would a prostitute be doing in this neighborhood?”

“Doubtful she was working the neighborhood,” the captain answered. “There

was little blood on your lawn and, as gashed up as the body is, plenty of

blood had been spilled. She was dropped off.” He turned to Chloe who was

seated near Gavin across the room still looking pale. “You say you thought

you saw a flash of lightening?”

“I wasn’t sure. I heard the roar about the same time and thought a funnel

had touched down.” Actually, the noise outside from the media trucks

setting up and the general bustle of reporters crowding as close to the

property and testing their equipment was almost as loud.

“Not the season for tornadoes although I can see where that might be a

logical first reaction. Did you see anything else? Either of you?”

Chloe shook her head. “By the time we reached the door, it was gone—

whatever it was.” Although as quickly as Gavin had reached the door, she

didn’t really know how anything could have gotten away so fast.

“Whatever it was left scorch marks,” Caldwell said from where he stood near

the unlit hearth nursing a Scotch. “When are the police going to accept there

is a dragon loose?”

Johnson eyed him coolly. “No one has called in a report of a dragon-sighting

since Dr. Cameron disappeared.”

“Do you still think it was a coup de theatre?” Mr Smith inquired. “Sophie

would never stoop to such a publicity stunt.”

The captain shrugged. “Her clinic is a no-kill shelter. Those kinds of places

are always in need of money. With technology and fiber-optics, the whole

thing could have been a hologram-like illusion.”

“You guys really don’t want to admit a dragon exists, do you?” Caldwell

asked and gestured to a window. “Those news guys out there sure do.”

Captain Johnson looked irritated. “Dragons are the stuff of faerie tales. If

such creatures ever existed, they were probably dinosaurs which have been

extinct for hundreds of thousands of years.”

Chloe saw the slight exchange between the captain and Gavin and

remembered their previous conversation. Of course, he didn’t want to admit

there was a dragon. Contrary to television and the movies, police

departments didn’t employ paranormal squads. The Google searches she’d

done had turned up rational excuses for the strange sightings in Charleston,

the Florida Keys and New Orleans as well. That didn’t mean they didn’t

exist—at least not in her fertile imagination.

Actually, it would be pretty cool to have a dragon shape shifter as a hero in

her next novel. How much more alpha could you get than that? Maybe—

“Miss Whitney. Are you going to answer the question?”

She snapped back to reality and looked at Gavin. “Sorry. What did you ask?”

“I didn’t,” he replied. “Mr. Smith did.”

“Actually, I was extending an invitation. I hope you will accept.”

“What is it?”

“Gavin pointed out earlier that two women who have worked closely with me

have disappeared. You’ve witnessed both these killings—or what was left of

them.” Mr. Smith looked slightly green. “Gavin thinks—and I quite agree—

that it would be wise if you stayed here at the house until we find out who—

or what—is causing these murders. I do hope you’ll say yes. I have plenty of

room.”

Chloe wasn’t sure she heard correctly. Gavin wanted her to stay under the

same roof with him? She glanced over, but his face was impassive. What an

opportunity. Maybe if she could spend more time with him, she could get

him interested in—and then her hopes were dashed by his next statement.

“Given the media frenzy out there, I think it might be wise if you contacted

that Morgan woman and asked her to handle the PR like she did with Dr.

Cameron,” he said.

Chloe nearly groaned aloud. Just great. Super-sultry sex-kitten would be

slinking around too.

So not good.

Balor blew a smoke ring and sat back in his armchair while he studied his

brother. Lucifer slouched lazily in a duplicate chair, one denim-clad leg

hanging over the armrest and stared back.

“I thought I told you not to get directly involved,” Balor said.

Lucifer shrugged. “Things don’t seem to be moving quickly, do they? Neither

Clark nor Caldwell have reported anything noteworthy. I thought I’d make a

direct connection.”

“Caldwell said you nearly killed the girl.”

“I didn’t even come close to that. I just burrowed into her mind a little to see

if she knew anything she wasn’t saying.”

“And?”

“She knows nothing about the platter other than it’s some relic that Smith

wants for his collection.”

Balor blew a series of smoke rings and contemplated. “Any take on how or

why she’s involved with this?”

“Nope.” Lucifer grinned. “She’s hot piece of ass though. Would you like for

me to find out?”

For an answer, Balor lifted his eye patch, sending a bolt of white-hot heat at

his brother. Lucifer’s hand shot up, an invisible shield deflecting it while his

eyes fired red.

Balor grunted as the return hit him.

“Is that a ‘no’ then?” Lucifer asked.

Balor glared at him with his good eye and settled the patch. “That’s a ‘no’. If

you’re going around impersonating a police officer, the last thing we need is

to have the PD on your tail for screwing around. It’s bad enough Sigurd is

leaving a trail.”

“That might not be a bad thing,” Lucifer said and reached for the brandy

decanter on the side table.

“Do you care to explain?”

“Tossing a few more bodies on Smith’s lawn will keep both the media and

the cops clued to the spot and Smith will be spending his time and money to

stay out of jail instead of playing treasure-hunter.”

“The man’s got lawyers for that. If I wanted him arrested, I could have

drugs planted there.” Balor stubbed out his cigar in the Waterford dish he

was using as an ashtray. “The bastard owns the original manuscript and the

clues are linked to that. Better that I keep tabs on him through Caldwell. If

Clark doesn’t totally screw up again, we can keep tabs on the media as well.

Meanwhile, I need you to find that damn dragon.”

“Let Morgan lure him in. Sigurd seems to have an affinity with her.” Lucifer

stood to leave. “Besides, you have something more serious to worry about.”

Balor paused with his hand halfway to the table to reach for another cigar.

“And what might that be?”

“You remember the night after you convinced King Philippe to burn Jacques

de Moley at the stake?”

“How could I forget? That damn Templar shape shifter killed two of my best

minions that night in revenge. Why are you bringing up something that

happened in the 14th century?” Balor straightened in his chair. “Has Ramsey

been spotted?”

“Not that I know of. I was busy in England at the time trying to keep Edward

II stirred up enough to fight The Bruce, but didn’t you say there was another

Templar with Ramsey?”

“Yes. A newly-made vampire. Never could find out who his maker was. He

disappeared shortly after that. Hell, maybe he’d seen the ‘light’.” Balor