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My stomach did an odd sort of flip-flop. "What?"
"Here." He pointed to a small area near the woman's left breast. The skin had been torn open, and globules of fat and flesh were evident. "Those aren't claw marks around the wound. That's teeth."
"Why on earth would she be eating the flesh now when she didn't before?"
"What better way to induce fear than to actually eat bits of your victim?" He shrugged. "She seems to be getting more violent with each murder, so perhaps this is all part of the escalation."
I shuddered at the thought. I didn't want to think about the mess her victims would be in if we didn't stop her soon. "If that is a bite wound, then she was wearing a smaller form. And no one - not even a human - is going to stand around and let a cat nibble on their flesh. Besides, the woman was in the process of dressing - it would have been hard for the cat to sneak in a bite before the woman reacted."
"We don't know what other skills she has, besides her ability to shift her shape and size."
That was true. I glanced at my watch and swore softly. I was late for my coffee appointment with Ben. "Look, I have to go chat to a man about another murdering psycho. You want to call in a cleanup team on this one?"
He nodded. "I'll go talk to James's secretary after that, see if he was the connection to the two women."
"Even if he was, how would they all be connected to the shoe guy?" It was easy enough imagining the women buying shoes there, but I highly doubt James was the type to be running around in high heels.
"With politicians you never really know." He reached across and flicked my nose lightly. "It's nice working with you, even if we can't have sex."
I grinned. "Ditto. Just be careful that cat doesn't come back and decide to make a meal out of you, too."
His warm brown eyes twinkled with sudden mischief. "Wouldn't be the first time a woman has decided to eat me."
"Yeah, but this one is taking more than a pound of flesh with her. I'm sure you wouldn't want that."
"No, and neither would my mares."
"I don't know," I said, trying for a reflective tone rather than amused, but missing horribly. "I bet Sable is so far into her pregnancy she's now cursing your pound or two of flesh and hoping it'll disappear for quite a while."
"No doubt about it," he said with a smile. "But when she comes into heat again, it'll be a different story."
"She's not a baby machine, you know."
"She's a mare. That's what they do."
So much for the enlightened world of horse-shifters. I shook my head and left.
Thanks to morning traffic, it took me close to thirty minutes to get to Lygon Street. Parking was as difficult to find as ever, so by the time I entered Chiquita's, I was a good fifteen minutes late. The cafe was cozy rather than flashy in design, full of intimate tables and seating that wrapped around you and lent a feeling of privacy. Down at the far end of the room was one of those fire-places that looked like logs but was actually gas, and the air was warm enough to almost instantly snatch the chill from my skin.
I didn't see Ben straightaway, but a moment later he stood and waved. I couldn't help the smile that touched my lips. Damn he looked good.
He'd dressed in blue jeans that molded around his strong legs and highlighted the sharp definition of muscles. The sleeves of his red shirt had been casually rolled to his elbows, and emphasized not only the width of his shoulders but the rich blackness of his skin.
He smiled when our gazes met, his white teeth flashing brightly in the gloom. My hormones did several excited skips. I might have been off the casual bandwagon for several months now, but this man had me reconsidering my options.
Or maybe I was simply ready to get back into the hunt again. I might not be over the hurt of watching Kellen walk away, but the break had at least given my bruised heart time to mend a little.
Maybe I was ready to play again, even if I had no intention of taking it further than that for a while.
Of course, knowing fate's sick sense of humor, she'd probably consider that now would be the perfect time to fling my soul mate into the equation.
If he hadn't already walked away, a little voice whispered.
I shoved that thought back into the box where it belonged, and let a smile of appreciation play about my lips.
"You're looking nice this morning," I said, dropping my purse onto the seat before rising onto tiptoes to kiss the side of his cheek. His skin felt good under my lips - warm and slightly roughened with whisker growth - and the taste of him was musky. It was tempting, so tempting, to keep on kissing and tasting, but that wasn't what I'd come here for. No matter what my hormones were suddenly thinking.
"And you're looking a little ragged around the edges." With his warm hands on either shoulder, he stood back a little and studied me critically. "Had a rough morning, huh?"
