He paused a beat too long before answering. “I don’t know. I didn’t leave with her. Although I left after her.”
Again, that incomplete truth. “How do you know that?”
“I looked for her before I left and didn’t see her.”
“Why were you looking for her?” Did you want to leave with her? This was the unspoken question.
“No,” he answered my unasked question. He didn’t elaborate, but I knew it was the truth.
“Then why?”
“I was worried.”
“About what?”
Another too long hesitation. “I’m not sure. Something seemed off that night.”
That was more lie than truth; what was going on? “Is that why you kept sniffing the air? Or at least that’s what it looked like to me.”
He seemed almost impressed with my question. “Yes, I was. There was a smell that seemed off. Wrong.”
That was almost a complete truth. Now we were getting somewhere. “What? Like pot? You know that’s legal here now.”
He chuckled with me, the smile not quite reaching his eyes this time. “I can’t really explain it.”
Mostly lie. Damn it. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
“A little of both.”
“Will you tell me one day?”
“Yes. Not today.”
“Not today,” I repeated. That was the truth. “I guess that’s okay.”
“You believe me that I’m innocent? That I didn’t hurt Karen or the other women?”
“Yes, I do.” He didn’t respond. “Are you surprised?”
“A little, if I’m honest. You don’t really know me.”
“That’s true,” I acknowledged. I wasn’t ready to explain my human lie detecting ability.
“But, I’m a good judge of character and I don’t believe you’re a killer.”
“Thank you, Catherine.”
“You’re welcome.”
He grinned. “Will you go out with me?”
“Yes.”
“Just like that.”
“Just like that.”
“What about the professional relationship thing?”
“We’ll work that out as we go.”
“That sounds wonderful.” He walked around the desk and stood over me. I remained sitting. He put his hands on the arms of the chair and leaned in close. “Are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” My breathing quickened at his nearness, even though we weren’t touching.
“There are things,” he swallowed audibly, “about me that you might not like.” He pushed back and turned away.
“So solemn,” I teased and when he turned, I was shocked to see real pain in his eyes. I stood next to him, our heat comingling. “I know you have your secrets. Let’s take it one day at a time. Okay?”
“Okay.” He smiled shyly. “Meet you tomorrow at eight? If Thai is good, I’ll text you a place I like.”
I reached a hand up to touch his cheek. He took that hand in his own, held it in place. We’d work everything out moving forward. I trusted my instincts. They’d never let me down before – I pushed down the awful memory of the one time I ignored them.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning, I clicked on the television to watch Entertainment Daily. I was already excited about my date that evening. Elizabeth Addison’s smiling face filled the screen. Except she was silent. Oops, I forgot to unmute the television. I hit the button. A solemn expression replaced her smile. And then I gasped. Alex’s headshot appeared in the corner, where the dead women’s images had been before.
My heartbeat throbbed throughout my body. I sank into the couch. He couldn’t be hurt.
It was much worse.
“Alexander Moore, a local actor, was questioned yesterday as a person of interest in the deaths of four actresses over the past four months. He was released and not charged. The police remain tight-lipped over why they questioned him.”
The screen switched to a video clip of the newscaster shoving her mic into Alex’s face outside a restaurant. She asked him why he was questioned by police. He stared directly into the camera before speaking. His short answer was lost in the wind buffeting the mic, but his face was tight in obvious irritation. He held up a hand to indicate he was finished and turned away from her. She started to follow, then stopped. The video was replaced on screen by an unsmiling Elizabeth.
“Mr. Moore had no comment when we tried asking for his side of the story. We’ll bring you more of this developing story later during the news broadcasts.” I hit mute when the show went to commercial.
His side of the story? I thought I already knew it. Did I? I debated whether or not to call Alex, and finally settled on texting.
Are you okay?
Yes. Why?
Did you see Entertainment Daily this morning?
No, but that reporter questioned me last night.
I know, I saw.
How bad was it?
She insinuated. Had no evidence.
She wouldn’t. I didn’t do anything. You having second thoughts about our date?
Nope. I’ll see you tonight.
Looking forward to it.
*****
Was I crazy to trust my instinct that Alex hadn’t hurt those women? The question kept running through my mind while I dressed for our date. Of course, I lied when he asked if I was having second thoughts. I’d be crazy not to. I wondered if I was making a mistake, trusting my instincts.
I focused on deciding what to wear. I chose a cute little purple cocktail dress with ballet flats. I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard, but I wanted to look like I had tried. I sighed when the question returned yet again.
Was I crazy to trust my instinct that Alex hadn’t hurt those women? I didn’t think so; of course, every woman hoodwinked by a serial killer thought the same thing.
“Momma?” I sat on the edge of my bed, listening to her claws as she ran across the concrete floor to the doorway of my bedroom.
“Meow?”
“Am I crazy—?” I stopped myself.
Momma crossed the room and hopped up on the bed, careful not to rub against me and get cat hair on my dress.
“Am I crazy to trust my instinct that Alex hadn’t hurt those women?” I gave voice to the question on repeat in my mind.
“Meow!”
I laughed. “That was pretty forceful, Momma.”
Softer meow.
“Okay, okay. I’ll trust myself. Thanks, Momma.” I scratched the back of her ears and she purred before flopping on her side, exposing her soft belly. I gave her a quick belly rub and a kiss on the forehead.
“Gotta go, Momma. Love you.”
She stretched and meowed. I laughed again before I moved to my front door.
Was I crazy to trust my instinct that Alex hadn’t hurt those women? The question returned again as I took the elevator down to the parking level under the lobby.
Was I crazy to trust my instinct that Alex hadn’t hurt those women? And the question again as I drove my car out of the parking garage and onto the street.
Was I crazy to trust my instinct that Alex hadn’t hurt those women? And one more time for good measure as I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.
Then a variation.
Why was I going out with him at all if I had doubt? Did I really have doubts or did I watch too much true crime television? Honestly, I had no idea. I made the decision to trust him and explore our mutual attraction. I’d make sure I met him in public places the first few dates. Listen to me. Already assuming additional dates.
Alex stood waiting for me outside the restaurant. I exited the car, smiling at his chivalry. He must be waiting to hold the door open for me. Then I noticed he wasn’t alone. He stood close to a smaller, thinner, younger man with blond hair. The younger man looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. I squ
inted, trying to see him clearer or jump start my memory. It didn’t work, though even from this distance, I could see both men were angry.
Alex and the other man leaned in and exchanged words. I wished I could hear what they were saying. I looked down while I closed my door, to make sure it completely shut. When I looked up, Alex had placed his right hand on the other man’s left shoulder. I watched, unmoving. Alex leaned in further toward the man. Neither spoke. Confusion filled me. What was I seeing?
As I continued to watch, hand on top of my car, the other man exhaled a white mist that Alex then inhaled. What the—? I looked around to see if anyone else had witnessed what I had. We three were alone in this part of the parking lot. The transmission, if that’s what it could be called, lasted mere seconds. Alex said something. The man nodded, turned, and left without another word or additional interaction with Alex.
I stood on wobbly knees, mesmerized by what I had seen. Alex sensed someone watching him and glanced around. His gaze landed on me. His eyes widened – to match mine, in fact.
Unnerved by what I’d seen and unwilling to listen to any more likely lies (how could he possibly explain this?), I yanked open my car door and got in. Through the glass, I saw him running toward the car and heard him calling my name. I resolutely looked away and started the car. I glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure I wouldn’t run him, or anyone else, over. I backed out and sped away. I met his eyes as I drove past him.
He appeared devastated. I kept driving and didn’t stop until I was safely back in the underground parking garage at my condo building.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A new question was stuck on repeat in my mind – how could I have been so wrong?
Momma greeted me at the door and followed me into the kitchen. I gave her some canned food, still focused on that question stuck on repeat.
“How could I have been so wrong?”
Momma paused in eating to meow at me.
“I know, I know. I can’t help it. I have to trust myself. But, what if I was wrong this time?”
Stop! I commanded myself silently. My phone rang and when I glanced down, I was unsurprised to see it was Alex. He had called twice during my short drive from the restaurant to the condo. I let the call go to voicemail again. He did not leave a message.
I headed for the bedroom, kicking off my shoes as I entered. I sat on the bed and tried to play devil’s advocate in my head. I couldn’t explain what I had seen BUT that didn’t mean Alex was a killer. And since I hadn’t given him a chance to explain, was I maybe being unfair? He had, after all, acknowledged earlier that he wasn’t telling me everything. And hadn’t my instinct been to trust him?
No! The other, colder side of my brain insisted what I saw had to be related to the unexplained deaths. Maybe whatever I saw breathe between the two men was some kind of toxin that caused heart attacks. Maybe that’s what killed the four women?
I glanced down when Alex called again, wondering if I should either answer it or turn it off, ultimately deciding to do neither. I watched it go to voicemail again. No message.
What could the explanation be for what I had seen? From the safety of my condo, curiosity was getting the better of me. If I accepted my instinct that Alex was not a killer and something else was going on in the parking lot, then I really wanted to know what that was. I already doubted my theory that it was a toxin because the mist had moved from the other man to Alex. It would be hard to kill someone with a toxin in reverse. Plus, honestly, even with all the true crime I watched, I had never seen a toxin that worked like that.
There had to be another explanation.
A soft knock on my door. I almost missed it. Tentative?
Peering through the peephole, my jaw dropped open.
“Alex?” How did he get past security downstairs?
“Yes, Catherine. May I come in?’ The closed door muffled his voice.
I stared in disbelief. My logical brain shrieked at me while I undid the lock and opened the door to allow him access. Momma took off from the kitchen, probably heading for underneath my bed.
He walked in, tentative, like his knocks. He closed the door behind him, but stood right inside, uncertain.
“How did you know where I live?”
His gaze dropped. “I tracked you.”
“What? Like with an app, Google, something like that? Or did you follow me?”
“Um, no.”
“That’s it. No?”
“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted.
“The full truth would be nice,” I responded with a sigh.
“Why don’t you tell me what you saw first?”
“Don’t think I’m missing your evasiveness.” I stared hard at him, then relented. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
He sounded so damn sincere. “When I arrived, I saw you arguing with that other man…” I prompted him with a pause.
“Michael Onyx.”
I cocked my head at the name; it seemed familiar, like the man himself, though I still couldn’t place it. I sighed. Alex did not jump in with more information. Okay. “I glanced away for a second and when I looked back…” This time I paused because fear flared at the memory. Alex closed his eyes, almost like he knew what was coming would physically hurt. “I saw a white mist move from the man to you; then the argument stopped and he walked away, like on autopilot. That’s all.”
Alex gave a half-smile. “Not exactly all. That’s when you ran away from me.”
“Drove away, to be exact,” I responded with a half-smile of my own. And then part of the answer hit me like a ton of bricks, as they say. “I know why he looked familiar!”
“You know Michael?”
I heard the concern in his voice. “He was scheduled to audition the day I met you. Immediately after you, in fact, the last audition of the day. He canceled while we were wrapping up.” I scrunched up my face, thinking.
Alex had gone white. “I know why he canceled.”
“You do?”
“He must have seen me go in and didn’t want to risk crossing paths.”
“Why not? Who is Michael Onyx?”
“He’s like me.”
“Like you, how?”
“Maybe it would help if we backed up a bit and I gave you more of an overview of the supernatural world in town?”
“Supernatural world?” I repeated.
“Oh yeah.”
“What do you mean by supernatural?” My brain tried to process what he was telling me.
“Beings who are not human or—”
“Are different?”
His lips quirked at my question but I didn’t elaborate.
Would I fall in that category? “Like we see in the movies, on television, and read about in books?” I asked instead. I focused on asking questions to quell my racing heart. This couldn’t be real. Could it?
“Las Vegas is practically a beacon for many supernatural beings—” he started.
“Many?” I interrupted. “How many different types of beings are there?”
Alex shrugged. “Not really sure. Besides your classic creatures, like vampires and werewolves, we have less well-known ones like,” he hesitated, “naiads.”
That’s not what he wanted to say. “Okay, vampires and werewolves I get. What is a naiad?”
“Naiads are female spirits who preside over various forms of water. Sometimes they’re called nixie.”
“Seems like a desert would not be the ideal location for such a creature,” I analyzed.
Alex laughed at my comment. “That’s very logical of you, Catherine.”
“Logic trumps anxiety,” I retorted.
His face crumpled before recovering. “Think of all the fake bodies of water that have been created in Sin City,” he reminded me.
“True.”
“All of these creatures are drawn here. Some in part because of the nightlife. You could see why a vampire m
ight like it, right?” I nodded. “Others are drawn because of our anything goes attitude. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? Unfortunately, because people still fear the unknown, they are definitely NOT out in society.”
Despite my anxiety and disbelief, I found I was enjoying this (possible) education about my adopted city. “That all makes perfect sense. How fascinating.”
“To answer your question, though, I have no idea how many different types of beings are here. I don’t know how many they number in total either.”
“They could be anywhere?” A chill raced down my spine.
“Yes, but for the most part, they aren’t dangerous. They want to live their lives in peace.”
“For the most part…”
“Obviously, like in purely human society, you have individuals who cause harm. It’s the same in the supernatural world.”
“Like Michael Onyx, that man you were arguing with?”
“Exactly like Michael Onyx.”
“Who is he, Alex?”
Alex didn’t speak and his face froze. “A better question to start with is, what is he? What am I?”
“Actors?” I tried for facetious, didn’t pull it off.
Alex’s mouth turned down.
“What are you?” I whispered this, before adding haltingly, “Are you human or supernatural?” I couldn’t believe I was even asking that question.
Eyes and face expressive and open, trying to convey trust, Alex reached a hand out toward me, then dropped it at his side. Resolute. Expecting a specific reaction, I guessed.
“Not entirely either,” he finally said. “I’m a half-incubus.”
I laughed. Even though my instinct told me he was truthful, I couldn’t help it. “A half-what?”
“Half-incubus,” Alex repeated.
“What on earth is that? I’ve never heard of it,” I was genuinely curious – either Alex really was only half-human or he was seriously delusional. My internal lie detector told me he clearly believed what he was saying.
“Have you heard of a succubus?”
“I recognize the name. I couldn’t tell you what it is,” I admitted.
“A succubus is a female—” He paused, frowned.
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