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Commander Torin rumbled laughter.
“Yeah—I get that a lot. But at least I’m allowed to see the evidence. I just wish I could get a look at the forensics and the crime scenes on Yonnie Six and Zetta Prime.”
“Why didn’t the Kindred send a female officer—one the authorities on those planets would be willing to deal with?” Sky asked.
He shook his head.
“We don’t have one that’s able to travel at the moment. All our female operatives—and there aren’t many of them, I’m afraid—are pregnant right now. And it’s not safe for a pregnant female to fold space.”
“Really?” Sky asked, interested. “I didn’t know—”
She stopped abruptly. They had walked through the entry hall towards the tall spiral staircase that dominated the central back part of the large room. An expensive bubble-glow chandelier cluster was floating quietly above them, shedding silvery light. The staircase was made of a pale, blue-gray material that Sky recognized as stone-wood that grew in the Great Forest which was far beyond the mountains. It must have been expensive to import.
But what stopped her wasn’t the gorgeous staircase with its elaborate carvings and smooth, spiraling ascent. It was the scent drifting down those stairs—a hot, coppery, pungent aroma her sensitive nose immediately picked up on. At a normal time, it might have made her fangs itch but the idea of what the scent represented left her cold.
She saw Commander Torin’s nostrils wrinkle and a grim look came over his face.
“Blood,” he growled. “Come on.”
SEVEN
TORIN
The murder scene was worse than he’d anticipated, Torin thought as he looked through the open doorway into the room which had been the ambassador’s bed chamber.
Gaudy splashes of drying blood streaked the plush white coverlet and sprayed out onto the expensive looking pale gray marble flooring. But the streaks of gore everywhere weren’t the worst thing—the ambassador was still there, lying in the middle of the bed.
Her wrists had been tied to the heavy wooden bedposts and the floating cloud mattress still supporting her body was soaked with blood. The body had been savagely mutilated but her mouth was still visible—drawn down in a rictus of pain. There was blood in her teeth.
For a moment, Torin just stood there, blocking the bed chamber door with his broad shoulders. He didn’t want Sky’lar to see this awful sight—wanted to protect her from it. It was one of the worst crime scenes he’d ever witnessed, and he had worked several serial killer cases as part of a Human-Kindred-Relations Unit back on Earth.
Then she tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey—are you going to move?” she asked impatiently. “I can’t see a damn thing with you standing in the way.”
“Hang on,” Torin told her. From a pocket in his vest, he pulled out a small bottle of cover-all. He sprayed it on his hands and the soles of his boots, creating a protective barrier that wouldn’t leave footprints or fingerprints or smudge any of the blood or other evidence. “You want some?” he asked, turning to offer the can to Sky’lar. “Keeps you from smudging the prints.”
She frowned.
“Okay, sure—I guess.”
“Hold out your hands,” Torin told her. When she did, he sprayed them and then had her lift her boots so he could spray the soles. Then he tucked the canister back into his pocket and took a deep breath.
Immediately, he wished he hadn’t—no matter how many crime scenes he saw, the coppery scent of fresh blood still disgusted him. Still, it was part of the job.
It’s part of her job too—Special Agent Sky’lar. Stop trying to protect her and let her in, he told himself. Pushing aside his strong protective instinct wasn’t easy, but he knew she would only hate him for trying to keep her from the crime scene—no matter how gory it was. So at last he stepped into the room, clearing the way for Sky’lar to see.
She stepped in and her pale blue eyes went wide as she surveyed the carnage.
“Mother of Serpents,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and low. “By all that’s holy…what happened here?”
Her reaction confirmed Torin’s initial instinct that she had never seen a crime like this before. From what she’d told him of the Serpentine people, they didn’t kill each other in this way. Then again, no one but a madman would kill like this.
Taking out his Com-U device, he began taking pictures, methodically covering every bit of the scene as he worked his way to the bed. He had to examine the body, but he wanted to be sure he got everything else first. At last he made it to the mattress—it was the floating cloud kind and it still swayed gently in its carved wooden frame as it supported the dead body of the ambassador .
“Why would he do this?” Sky’lar’s voice was barely above a whisper and her face was pale as she stared at the remains of the woman who had been killed.
