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I shook my head. “I have no intention of touching him.”
I moved around the bed and bent to examine an arm wound. It wasn’t hard to see the bite marks, and they certainly did appear vampiric in nature. And yet, doubt stirred, if only because most vamps didn’t leave this type of bruising behind.
But it wasn’t like I was an expert when it came to vampires. My experience was limited to what I’d read in the books Belle had inherited from her gran and the bits and pieces I’d learned during my encounters with both Maelle and the vampire witch who’d come to the reservation seeking revenge.
“The wounds are definitely penetrative,” I said, “but vamps aren’t the only supernatural creatures who dine on their victims’ blood.”
“I’m not sure I really want an answer to this,” Ciara said. “But what sort of creatures are we talking about?”
“Off the top of my head, there’s the lamia, a type of demon who takes on human form to seduce men and then drain them when they’re asleep. There’s also a Scottish fairy that’s a cross between a succubus and a vampire.” I hesitated. “But if he didn’t die of blood loss, then we could be dealing with something like Kitsune—they don’t actually take blood, but rather their victim’s life force.”
“How likely is it to be the latter?” she asked.
My gaze swept Jacobson’s body again. Despite the bruising, he still very much looked like a man in his late twenties. “Unlikely. Everything I’ve read about them suggests the process seriously ages the victim.”
“If the autopsy can’t pin down a cause of death,” Aiden asked, “is there any way to reveal what type of supernatural creature we’re dealing with?”
“I can’t sense his ghost in the house, so other than asking Belle to make contact with his soul, no,” I said. “There’s certainly nothing within this room to suggest what might have done this.”
Aiden’s gaze narrowed. “Does that mean you’re sensing something elsewhere?”
“Maybe.” I hesitated. “It’s the heat, more than anything. It just seems rather unusual.”
“We’re in the midst of a heat wave,” Ciara commented, “and these old places don’t have much in the way of insulation.”
“I know, it’s just—” I shrugged. “Something feels off, that’s all.”
“In what way?” Aiden asked.
“If I knew that, I’d say.”
“Do you want to look around?”
“It may be nothing—”
“Or it might be something,” he cut in. “I don’t think any of us would dare discount your concerns after the last few months. Yell if you find anything.”
“Of course.”
But I didn’t immediately leave the room. Instead, I walked around, skimming a hand above the various surfaces and items. Prophetic dreams and an odd ability to sense evil weren’t my only psychic talents—I was also gifted with psychometry. On a surface level, the talent let me trace misplaced items and sense emotions via touch. But on a deeper level, I could track missing people or slip into the mind of whoever owned the item I was holding, allowing me to see and experience whatever was happening to them at the time.
The latter was not something I did very often—I’d heard too many tales of psychics losing themselves in the minds of others, and I wasn’t about to risk anything like that.
I did have one advantage over most other psychics, though—Belle. She wasn’t only a witch, but also my familiar. It was a situation that had caused great consternation to my powerful blueblood parents—not only did I have the audacity to be severely underpowered, but I also had the temerity to have a lower-powered witch as a familiar rather than the far more acceptable cat or spirit—even though that was something I had no control over.
But Belle’s presence in my life had saved it more than once—she was, in fact, the best thing that had ever happened to me.
And here I was thinking that award went to Aiden.
Belle’s thought whispered into my mind, her mental tone soft enough to suggest she wasn’t entirely awake. While telepathy was one of her psychic skills rather than mine, the ability to share thoughts was one of the many benefits that came with her being my familiar. He falls into the “best thing right now” category. What are you doing up? It’s four in the morning.
I had to pee. What’s your excuse?
Aiden was called in on a murder.
And he’s dragged you along to the crime scene? Why?
Suspicious bite marks.
