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I edge around it and hastily make my way up the stairs, eager to see the focal point of the crime. Clearly Lynesse Jones was DCK’s intended victim. A beautiful succubus is just his type. The man was unlucky to be here when he came for her. Lynesse’s room is more likely to give me an insight into what happened here.
There are a few splatters of blood on the white carpet outside Lynesse’s bedroom. I cannot tell if they belong to Lynesse or the man. I touch one hesitantly, knowing that I shouldn’t, but no miraculous vision comes into my mind. The bedroom door is only slightly ajar. Suddenly realizing that I shouldn’t touch it with my fingertips, I push it open with my knuckle. I should have brought gloves. I should have thought about fingerprints while I was downstairs.
I step into the bedroom. The first thing I see is the king-sized bed with its cream silk sheets and the horrible browned mottling of bloodstains all over them. I swallow hard, looking for DCK’s mark. I find it on the wall beside the door. The outline of a massive clawed pawprint made of blood is clearly visible. I stare at it, shaken.
I have seen DCK’s mark before. It was on Magda’s door, right before I saw her body. Like this it was a mas
sive pawprint dripping in blood. It had been so horrifically real and menacing, even though my logical mind keeps insisting that a print this big cannot belong to a real creature. On Magda’s door those monstrous claws had gouged deep furrows into the wood. There are no gouges on the plaster of Lynesse’s wall.
Someone clears their voice behind me. Startled, I whirl around. A man is in the doorway. I rapidly step away from him, wanting distance between us. I bump into the bed, almost toppling back onto it. I save myself by catching hold of the soiled mattress. It is dry now, and yet at the touch of my fingers on it a powerful stench of iron and fear fills my nose and mouth.
I am choking. Blood is in my mouth. The smell of it fills my nose. I am trying to crawl off the bed to get away but the axe is in the killer’s fist and it arcs down, slicing into the flesh of my back. I feel its blade striking bone at the back of my ribs. I scream as the killer jerks it out.
Someone seizes my arm and drags me away from the bed. Reeling from the images in my mind, I stare up at her. It is Remi.
“What are you doing here?” she demands. She looks more curious than displeased to see me. The skinny, pasty-faced guy standing next to her looks equally curious.
But my mind is on the vision. The overwhelming terror of it has left me feeling disorientated. She was a woman dying and she knew it. She was being hunted like a terrified animal in her own home. Is this how Magda felt? Knowing the end was here and there was nowhere left to run?
“This is a crime scene,” complains the pasty-faced guy. “You’re contaminating it. How did you get in here?”
“I was just passing through,” I mutter dazedly.
Remi giggles. Then she does her best to look stern. “Finlay,” she says firmly, “I can handle this. Give us a moment.”
Finlay grudgingly leaves the room.
“That was Phineas Finlay,” she says in a low voice. “My least favorite crime scene tech.”
“He gives me the creeps,” I say.
“He was right though,” she says. “What are you doing here?”
“Erm…Just between us, I had a little wager with your boss, Chief Santagar?” It comes out sounding like a question.
Remi’s russet eyebrows shoot up towards her fabulous hairline. “Do tell,” she says eagerly.
I tell her about it. She whistles. “Wow. Storm is not going to be happy. Neither is the chief. It sounds like you are most definitely not supposed to be here.”
“But you’ll let me stay?” I ask hopefully.
“I wouldn’t object to having you back on the team,” she says with a grin. “But you’d better stay out of Leo’s way. He is a stickler.”
“I thought you guys were in France?”
“We got back this morning.”
“What about Storm?” I whisper, my heart beating faster at the thought he might be downstairs. So near. And so dangerous to my mission right now.
She looks amused, as if she knows exactly how I am feeling. She shakes her head. “He’s at headquarters. He got called away.”
“Oh. Good.” However I can’t help but feel a little disappointed.
Remi raises an eyebrow. “So? Have you seen anything useful?”
I open my mouth to tell her everything but then I snap it shut. Technically Remi is part of the competition, since my mission is to beat Storm’s team to finding the killer.
“You can’t be serious,” she says. “I’m letting you stay. You have to give me something.”
