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“You think her husband’s telling the truth about them being happy?” This case just screamed of a husband staking his wife and then reporting her missing. If they’d tried to scam the government, he couldn’t very well come out and say what he’d done. And if she’s the one who had the money, then declaring her missing would eventually net him big bucks.
The courts were still hung up on whether killing a vampire was murder or not. The conservative factions wanted to declare the undead personae non grata without any rights. The liberals wanted full rights for all vampires and Supes. It was a hot debate right now, and not likely to be tied up neatly with a pretty bow.
“You know, you’d think so, but all my instincts tell me he’s on the up-and-up.” Chase usually didn’t give people the benefit of the doubt, but this time he seemed genuinely convinced that the guy was telling the truth. “What do you say, will you look into it? Ask around? You’ll get better results than I will.”
“You’re spot-on there,” I said. “Most vamps don’t like the cops.” Whereas I might actually be able to sniff out anything suspicious. Especially if I hit Sassy Branson up for info on the Clockwork Club and its members. I leaned on the counter.
“So will you?” he asked. “Check it out?”
“Sure, why not? If you’ll do something for me.” I gave him a toothy grin. “Another missing person case. Or rather, a possible missing person. An elf named Sabele Olahava had my job, right before Jocko took over. She vanished, and the OIA claimed that she disappeared back to Otherworld. We’re thinking, maybe not so much.”
Chase jotted down her name in the notebook he kept in his pocket. “Sabele . . . Sabele . . . I think I actually met her a couple of times. Right around the time we were pulling together the FH-CSI.” He paused, squinting. “That’s right, I remember her. Ultrathin. Kind of pretty, but pale. Most elves seem to be pale and thin. You think something might have happened to her?”
“We’re not sure, but would you check your records? See if anything was going on back then around the Wayfarer? See if she made any complaints? Camille’s going to translate her diary fully tomorrow, but from what we can tell, it sounds as though she might have had a stalker.”
I slapped the counter with my bar rag. “Okay, I need to close up, so you need to get your butt out the door. You people frown on bars keeping their doors open past two A.M., you know.”
He snorted. “You people? I assume you’re talking about the cops? Frankly, if I had it my way, the bars would close at midnight. Too many drunks on the road as it is.” Pushing himself off his stool, he adjusted his jacket and headed for the door. “I’ll see you Sunday. Delilah invited me over for dinner.”
I quickly slipped out from behind the bar and glided over to him, gingerly touching his arm with my fingertips. “Just so we understand each other, Chase. You make sure you don’t pull any more crap like you did with Erika. Play it straight and honest with Delilah, and we’ll get along just fine. Now, I promise I’ll call you when I find out anything about Claudette. And if you find anything on Sabele, phone us first thing.”
He nodded, leaving without another word. I smiled, satisfied. I still scared the crap out of him. And I considered that a very good thing.
CHAPTER 4
I was almost done closing the bar when Nerissa poked her head in. A golden goddess, she was a member of the Rainier Puma Pride, and a werepuma. I’d seen her transform once, marveling at the beauty that had started as human and ended up as a big cat. She was lithe and supple, and when she raced across the Puma Pride’s land under the feral Moon, I could only stand and gawk, amazed that such an incredible woman could be my lover.
Nerissa worked for the Department of Social and Health Services, helping place troubled children who fell under the state’s care into foster homes. And she looked like she’d had a long, hard day by the weary look in her eyes.
Slipping out from behind the bar, I met her near the door. She leaned down and brushed my lips with hers. Soft. Her skin was so soft, and she smelled like a warm, dusky meadow. A flame stirred in my belly as she let out a low growl, wrapping her arms around my waist as she pulled me so close that I could feel the pulse of the blood in her veins. I opened my lips to her tongue, and she lingered, gently forcing me back against the door.
Aroused, I flipped her around, pinned her against the wall, my hand slipping up beneath her shirt to caress her silken skin. As my fingers trailed up to her breasts, she slid her legs apart, and I pressed my knee between them, knowing only too well what waited beneath the linen material.
I reached around her to lock the door. A light flashed in her eyes as I motioned toward the back. In my office there was a daybed, and by the time we reached it, she’d stripped off her shirt and was working on her pants. I was out of my jeans and turtleneck in seconds flat, and we were on each other like bunnies in heat. I dipped my head to trail kisses down her breasts, down the center of her muscled stomach, down to the lovely thatch of golden hair that told me she was, indeed, a natural blonde.
Her thighs tensed as I slid between them, tonguing her with gentle, circling strokes. Within seconds, I’d cajoled her into a quick, hard orgasm. We hadn’t been together for about a week, and Nerissa was sexual in a way I couldn’t ever imagine being. I loved the connection, but sex, for her—as it was for my sister Camille—was on par with food. Necessary for survival.
She gasped, shaking her head as she laughed. “I’m dizzy. I was so damned horny, I couldn’t wait to get over here.”
I sat back, grinning, as she propped herself up on her elbows. “Only too glad to help.”
“Now, it’s your turn,” she whispered, staring into my eyes. I shivered as she ran her fingers lightly over my body. Even now, I was sensitive about the scars that covered me from head to toe, but when Nerissa made love to me, it was as if they didn’t exist, as if Dredge had never touched me. She’d won my confidence and my trust, and I gave neither freely.
She slid her fingers between my legs, her fingertips barely grazing my skin as they fluttered quickly against the white-hot fire that was building in my stomach.
I fought the urge to drag her down to the floor and press my teeth into that bronzed neck of hers. At first, I’d been terrified of losing control, but over the months, I’d discovered that I could focus, could enjoy the passion without letting the predator take over. Blood and sex were intermingled for me and always would be, but I’d vowed never to taste Nerissa’s blood. She’d offered, but I refused.
Leaning down, she took one of my nipples in her mouth, sucking so hard that if I were human, it would have hurt like hell. But the sensation just drove me on, and I let out a low moan, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.
“Come on, baby, let go,” she said, lifting her head. “Give it up. Give up the control.”
Even as I fought back the thirst, I felt myself coming—a wave rolling in to swallow me whole, to send me reeling down the rabbit hole. I gave myself over to trust and let the orgasm carry me outside of myself, into the realm where there was no blood, no body, only sensations and souls mingling.
“Menolly? You okay?” Her voice was soft, leading me back.
I sat up and rested my head on her shoulder. “Better than okay. I needed you, too. Had a bad day, of sorts. I’m surprised to see you so late, though. You’ve got a long ride home tonight. Or, are you staying at our place?”
She wrapped her arm around me, and the steady thump of her heartbeat lulled me into a state of peace, rather than seduced me in. Lucky I fed earlier, I thought. We sprawled together, just holding one another, for a good ten minutes, before Nerissa let go of me and sat up, reaching for her shirt.
