Raven Mask (3 page)

She kissed me, drawing me roughly into the circle of her arms. She held me against her like a prisoner. Her lips parted against mine and I opened my mouth, catching her bottom lip between my teeth.

Lenorre moaned.

My stomach lurched. I liked a little bit of pain in the bedroom, but I had not known Lenorre had similar interests. I released her lip, slowly, and started to pull away from her. She buried her fingers in my hair, cupping the back of my skull. She kissed me again, this time exploring my mouth with a recklessness that had nothing to do with control and everything to do with passion, with need. She kissed me until I was breathless, until that need burned between my legs and threatened to buckle my knees. I put my hands on her shoulders, holding on to her like a life preserver as I drowned in her kiss. The tips of her fangs glided over my tongue. My hands trembled on her shoulders.

The room no longer existed. The only thing that mattered to me was Lenorre’s mouth, the feel of her, the taste of her. I was aware only of the line of her body against mine, the soft swell of womanly curves hidden beneath the folds of her clothing. I searched for the opening to her gown, trying to free the first button, but my hands trembled too badly to unfasten it. Lenorre caught my wrists, pushing my arms behind my back. Her slender hands were suddenly shackles that trapped me and kept me from touching her. A growl of frustration escaped me.

“Please.” Instead of sounding like a plea, it sounded more like a demand.

Lenorre turned her head, brushing her mouth across my cheek. Her voice was breathy as she said, “We are not alone.”

“Sorry.” Rupert’s deep voice startled me and made me come back to myself. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Most guys would feel,” he paused, searching for the word, “honored. But this is like watching my little sister make out with her lesbian girlfriend.” I felt the blush creeping to my cheeks.

As if on cue Lenorre and I both stepped away from each another, wiping our mouths. It wasn’t a sloppy kiss, but a deep kiss like that leaves some evidence. I used the back of my sleeve. Lenorre used her thumb and index finger to daintily dab at the corners of her mouth. The gesture made me think of more nefarious things. She watched me while she did it and I knew what that dark look meant. She was hungry, and it wasn’t for blood.

I wanted to kick Rupert out and tell him to shut the door behind him.

“Thank you,” he said, stepping out of the doorway. He picked up my bags, moving them over to the couch so he could sit in the chair.

I debated excusing myself to make a trip to the bathroom before I sat down, but decided it was best not to because then everyone would know why. Lenorre took a seat in the opposite armchair. I moved to the couch, slightly narrowing my eyes. Sitting in a puddle of your own wetness isn’t exactly comfortable.

The corner of her mouth twitched into a smirk.

“What?” Rupert looked at us both.

Lenorre didn’t say anything.

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

“You may be a werewolf, and she may be a vampire,” he glanced at Lenorre, “but you’re both still fucking women.”

“Yeah,” I said, “pretty much.”

Lenorre said, “Do not try to understand, Rupert. It will only give you a headache.”

Indeed, it would.

Thankfully, Rupert changed the subject. “What did you see tonight?”

Lenorre looked curious enough for me to realize that she too wanted to know what I had seen. I walked over to the fireplace, running my fingertips across the edge of the mantel. I couldn’t give either of them a run-down on what I had seen tonight while sitting. I needed to partially distract my mind from the words I had to say.

“Do you remember the last case I worked on with the police?”

I turned, then rested my shoulder against the fireplace, facing them. Rupert gave Lenorre an accusing look, which she met unflinchingly.

“How could I forget?” he said grumpily.

“Why, I am glad you find me so unforgettable, Rupert.” Lenorre sounded rather sarcastic, clipping his name at the end. When they’d first met, Rupert and I had followed Rosalin back to The Two Points. Lenorre had helped calm my beast so I didn’t shift all over the place. To my knowledge, she’d never been discourteous to him, but he’d made it clear that he didn’t trust the vampires.

“You two,” I said. They both looked at me. “Play nicely or don’t talk to one another.”

Lenorre circled the edge of the armchair with a fingertip. “Do not think you can boss me around, little wolf.”

“Lenorre, can the crap and put your ego back in its coffin.” I couldn’t stifle the growl that built in my chest. “This isn’t about Rupert or you. Do you remember my last case? I questioned a family and their son. That sixteen-year-old boy is dead.”

My words were like a piano crashing into the middle of the room, invoking silence and everyone’s attention.

“All right, Kass,” Rupert said, “you win. I can ignore my dislike of your bed partner in order to hear what you need to tell me.”

“And you?” I looked at Lenorre. “Can you do the same?”

Her tone and the set of her shoulders told me she was being careful. “I do not dislike Rupert.”

It didn’t seem to bother her that he didn’t like her. In fact, his dislike seemed to amuse her.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome,” Rupert said. “Go on.”

I nodded. “The boy’s body was found between six thirty and seven thirty this evening. When I reached the scene rigor mortis had already set in. The body had been exsanguinated.”

“Which means he was dead for at least three hours,” Rupert said.

I nodded. “Exactly.”

“Who found it?” he asked.

“The father.”

“He was drained dry?”

I nodded, again. “Not a drop of blood left in his body or on the scene. I checked the jugular and the carotid. Neither of them had been pierced. I checked the ulna and radial, nothing.”

Lenorre moved slightly.

“If there were no visible bite marks that leaves—”

“The femoral area. I’m pretty sure it was the femoral vein but anatomy is not my area of expertise. I won’t know for sure until Arthur calls me with the examiner’s report.”

“If it was the vein, that indicates an intentional feeding and a slower death,” Lenorre said, impressing me, although she was a vampire, after all. “Choosing a vein over an artery cannot be done in a moment of blood frenzy. The vein would require patience on the vampire’s part.”

“Right, since veins bleed more slowly,” I said. “The artery would be more ideal for a quick fix. How would a vampire know where to bite to get the vein?”

“Pulse,” Lenorre said. “Arteries have a beat. Veins do not.”

Duh.

“Would the anticoagulant in your saliva make the vein bleed quicker?”

“A little,” she said, “yes.”

“Someone made a deep cut with a steady hand. So I agree. It was definitely intentional.” I took a breath to calm myself.

“They cut the vein to hide the puncture wounds,” Rupert said.

“Yeah.”

He looked at Lenorre. “Would one of your vampires have done it?”

Lenorre shook her head. “No.”

“How do you know for sure?” he asked. “You can’t keep your eyes on them all the time.”

“They are bound to me,” she said, as if that explained everything.

Rupert said what I was thinking. “That doesn’t tell me much.”

“Rupert has a point,” I said. “I don’t know shit about vampire clans, or whatever you guys call them.”

“Kassandra, it is similar to a wolf pack. To provide control, instead of absolute chaos, clans exist in every state in this country, in every city in this country. Each clan has a ruler, much like an alpha werewolf. A ruler provides for their clan, protects and punishes.”

“Rosalin once told me you were one of the most powerful vampires in Oklahoma,” I said.

“Mayhap. Every clan has a Countess or a Count at the head.”

“All vampires are tied to a leader?” Rupert asked.

“For the most part. There are very few solitary vampires, but as Kassandra is a stray among the wolves, so there are those among our kind who, if powerful enough, break the ties from their original makers. Even then, most wayward vampires do not have the power to conceal and protect themselves. Thus they seek the protection of a more powerful vampire.”

“A stray?” I asked. “I didn’t exactly follow you to your doorstep. That’s a nice way to put it.”

“Do not take offense. You are a lone wolf. I apologize. I should not have called you a stray, but that is the term most wolves would have used.”

“No,” Rupert said, “I like
stray
. It suits her. She did show up on my doorstep when the accident happened.”

I flipped him off. He laughed.

“On your doorstep?” Lenorre inquired.

“Yeah, bled all over the damn place. You have no fucking idea how long that took to clean up.”

“You never told me that,” I said.

He shrugged. “Why bother? You’re my friend. I would rather you be alive than dead because I went all OCD at the wrong moment.”

I shook my head. “OCD just doesn’t seem your style, Rupert. It sounds more like my mother.”

“Your mother?” Lenorre looked thoughtful. “You never mentioned your mother.”

“I had to come from somewhere.”

“Have you met her?” she asked Rupert.

“Once. If you ever meet her you’ll see where Kass gets her stubborn streak.”

I suddenly had an image of taking Lenorre home to my family and laughed.

Rupert caught it. “You just pictured it too, didn’t you?”

“Yes, yes, I did.”

“Pictured what?” Lenorre asked.

“The look on my mother’s face if I were to introduce you two.”

Rupert said, “Your mom wouldn’t care.”

“She probably wouldn’t.” I pictured my mother’s reaction.
Oh, honey, she’s cute. A little tall, don’t you think?

“All right,” Rupert changed the subject, “we were talking about the crime scene. Was there any other evidence besides the bite marks?”

“The boy was naked.”

“It was intimate,” Lenorre said.

“Definitely intimate.”

“It must’ve been someone he knew well to get that close to him,” Rupert added.

“Not necessarily.” Lenorre looked contemplative. “Did anything at the scene hint at any type of sexual activity?”

“I didn’t see or smell anything.”

“What did you smell?” she asked.

I made a disgusted face. “Death.”

“You should call Arthur,” Rupert said. “Let him know that the ME needs to run a test for any type of bodily fluids on or around the body. They may have already done one, but make sure.”

Why hadn’t I thought of that? See, friends are very important. Especially those with more experience.

“Right, but what about the vampire?”

“I will see what I can do,” Lenorre said.

I walked around the couch and sat down, rubbing my temples. “This puts my other investigation on the back burner,” I said, and looked at Lenorre.

“What other investigation?” Rupert asked.

“Sheila Morris,” I said, “the alpha female of the local werewolf pack.” It took a few weeks but I’d finally told Rupert that I’d been kidnapped. I couldn’t lie to him. He seemed worried and pissed that he hadn’t been there. I assured him that Lukas Morris was one dead puppy. He’d told me he was happy and sad. Happy, because I’d personally filled Lukas’s body with silver ammo. Sad, because he didn’t get the pleasure of doing it himself. I’d met Sheila once. I don’t like her. I especially don’t like the things I’ve heard about her from Rosalin and Lenorre. So, I was watching her and trying to see what dirt I could dig up. I had a gut feeling she would pull some new stunt, probably one that would get people killed. I just didn’t know when or how.

“Do you want me to take over?”

“I can’t ask you to do that. If she’s into the same kicks as her brother, your life would be seriously at risk.”

“My life is always seriously at risk.”

“She’s a werewolf, Rupert. I don’t think you could handle that.” I wasn’t trying to be rude, just truthful. I wanted to keep my friends safe. If I had to tell them something was too difficult for them, that’s what I’d do, but I should’ve known it wouldn’t work. Rupert’s blue eyes went cold and hard, like water freezing. If looks could’ve killed, I might’ve dropped dead. I’d seen the expression on his face only a few times. It’d scare the shit out of any bad guy. To have it directed at me, to feel the full force of it, made my blood run cold. The wolf perked her ears, ready for a challenge. I tightened my shields.

“You have no idea what I can and cannot handle.” His tone was grave, dropping a few octaves with each syllable.

“You want the case?” I asked. “Fine, but I want you to call me if you need help.”

“I need all the information you have on her, whereabouts, history, etc.”