BLACKOUT: CROSSBREED SERIES BOOK 5

by Dannika Dark

  We both got in and slammed the doors.

  Christian dusted off his dirty pants. “You don’t see Blue and Niko whining about searching for a lost dog.”

  I took my keys out of my coat pocket. “That was a bullshit assignment. Viktor should never have accepted it. He probably owed someone a favor. Why else would he have Blue and Niko tracking down a fucking wolf? If some high-and-mighty Shifter official decides to run away and live his life in the woods, that’s his business. What’s the point of rounding him up and bringing him home if he hasn’t broken any laws? We’re not animal control.”

  Christian belted out a laugh, and it was as dark as a sinner’s heart.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing, Precious. Just drive.”

  Small victories were best celebrated with an Angus burger, and I knew just the place.

  “Nice wheels,” Betty gushed, gesturing out the window at my truck. “I saw you drive up in it, honey. I’m so glad things are looking up for you.”

  Betty always had a way of making me feel good about myself, even when things were bleak. It was nice to be able to share glimpses of my life with her that weren’t a train wreck.

  I smiled up at her. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Where have you been?”

  “I’m not dead yet.” She put one hand on her plump hip. “I went on a cruise!”

  That explained her light tan and redder-than-normal dyed hair. For a woman of almost eighty, she was as vivacious as anyone my age. But I’d never seen her in anything but a dress and apron, so I had a difficult time imagining her on a lounge chair with a fruity umbrella drink in her hand.

  “My kids all chipped in for my ticket,” she bragged. “Everyone came along. The grandkids were a handful, but we had a marvelous time.”

  “Which islands did you see?”

  “The boat docked in a few places, but I didn’t get off. I once read a story about a woman who missed her boat in Mexico, and they found her five years later, living as someone’s love slave.”

  Christian choked on his ice water.

  “Don’t believe everything you read in those tabloids,” I cautioned her, holding in my laugh.

  “You’re probably right, honey. Just last week they had an article about a vampire baby.”

  “Now that’s fecking impossible,” Christian retorted.

  I kicked him beneath the table.

  Betty didn’t bother taking out her pen and pad. “Same as usual?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “One Angus burger with extra cheese and a side of onion rings coming right up.” She turned on her heel and headed to the kitchen.

  Christian stretched his arms across the back of his booth. “That’s a wee bit presumptuous of her. What if I was hungry?”

  “You haven’t been hungry since 1948.”

  He turned his head to look outside. “Perhaps you should wash your hands before you wrap those dirty little fingers around your hamburger. You’ve been scuttling around in the alley.”

  I glanced at my palms and shuddered when I thought about all the things they’d touched in the past half hour. That launched me out of my seat and into the restroom. As I lathered my hands with pink soap, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I’d never age another day. No wrinkles, no grey hairs, no sagging skin or age spots. The only hint of my age would be a glimmer of light in my eyes, something that inevitably happened with the ancients as their Mage power increased. As I looked into my own mismatched eyes, I almost didn’t recognize the person staring back. Pieces of my past were missing, and without those memories, the fabric of my identity would always be frayed.

  Know thyself.

  Christian’s words resonated with me. Funny how right he was.

  I washed a smudge of dirt off my chin and, for just a split second, thought of Fletcher. He crossed my mind at random moments when I was least expecting it, and I didn’t like the invasive nature of those thoughts. Forgetting him wasn’t as easy as it used to be. He didn’t creep into my nightmares anymore, but I’d spent far too many waking hours pondering his whereabouts. We hadn’t uncovered any clues since his escape, and Viktor said that would take time and I needed to be patient. If patience was a virtue, I planned to be the most virtuous woman in Cognito.

  Once I collected my thoughts and dried my hands on a paper towel, I emerged from the bathroom and noticed the additional head count at our table. “Where did you two come from?”

  Gem peered over her shoulder at me, the sun glinting off the rhinestones framing her sunglasses. “The dungeon of gloom.”

  Claude scooted against the window to let me sit across from Gem. “What’s shakin’?”

  “What brings you guys into the city?”

  “I can’t stay at home with all this sunshine,” Gem explained. “Claude let me tag along so I could do some shopping.”

  Claude rested his elbows on the table and flashed a smile. “Gem’s like a rechargeable battery, and she’s running out of juice. I told her I’d drop her off in the city on my way to work. We were stopped at the intersection when I spotted your truck.”

  “We’re celebrating,” I informed him. “Another case closed.”

  “Congrats.”

  A woman outside passed by our window and stared at Claude. When he held her gaze, a rosy blush tinted her cheeks, and she beamed. He had that effect on women and made no apologies. Men with golden locks and sensual lips like his rarely did.

  Gem glanced down at her laminated menu. “Darn. I should have ordered the strawberry shake instead. It says here it’s made from fresh fruit.”

  “Then change your order.” When I raised my hand to flag a waitress, Gem seized my wrist.

  “No! I don’t want to be a bother.”

  I put down my arm. “They don’t care.”

  She sighed and pushed the menu toward the edge of the table. “But I do.”

  Claude suddenly reached across the table and gripped her hand. “What’s wrong, female? I can scent you’re upset about something more than a milkshake.”

  She put her hands in her lap and frowned. “I electrocuted Hooper.”

  Hooper was the Sensor that Gem was seeing.

  I blinked in surprise. “As in… dead?”

  “No! He’s not dead.”

  Christian concealed a smile by turning his head toward the window.

  “It’s the downside of being a Mage,” she said, alluding to the obvious.

  Sexual energy in a Mage needs a place to go, but when you’re not dating another Mage or a Vampire who can handle it, that meant an energy blast.

  Christian put his arm around her. “Boy meets girl. Boy seduces girl, and girl electrocutes boy while giving him a hand job. It’s a tale as old as time.”

  She elbowed him in the ribs. “We didn’t go that far. If I can’t control myself with a little heavy petting, what happens if we make fireworks?”

  I snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

  Betty returned with my food and set a vanilla milkshake in front of Gem. “Sure you don’t want anything?” she asked Claude.

  He smiled handsomely at her, enough to substitute for a tip. Betty hurried off with a jaunty smile on her face.

  “So what do you plan on doing today?” I asked Gem.

  She straightened a lock of her lavender hair in front of her face, and it sprang back in a natural wave when she let it go. “Walk around, shop, and maybe go relic hunting. Sometimes I find rare books in the pawnshops.”

  “That’s our book nerd,” Claude said affectionately.

  She pushed her shades up her nose with one finger. “I prefer the term bibliophile.”

  I gobbled up two onion rings, suddenly reminded of how Christian and I had met. He eyed them briefly, and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

  Emotions in check, Raven. Claude the Sniffer is sitting beside you.

  Gem sipped her milkshake and moaned with delight. We’d all been suffering through sugar deprivation, thanks to Kira�
��s organic approach to cooking. Ever since Viktor had taken her in as our domestic help, our diets had dramatically changed due to her lack of knowledge when it came to processed food and sugar. Gem slid the tall glass over to Claude, who removed the straw and drank straight from the glass.

  I watched him set the glass down. “Are you originally from around here?” I asked, suddenly realizing the question might be too invasive. Because we all presumably had a dark past, we never asked each other probing questions. Not unless someone volunteered that information. But idle chitchat in a diner was hard to avoid, so I let the question linger to see if he would answer.

  He licked the ice cream mustache from his upper lip. “No. Pennsylvania originally.”

  “Did you fight in the Battle of Gettysburg?” I quipped, remembering how he once mentioned he was centuries old.

  “That would have meant joining the army and my name going into the record books. Most of us protect our names from legal documents.” He slid the glass back to Gem. “It was difficult to leave the state or country in those days when the draft was going on. The world was smaller back then, and everyone knew everyone. During the war, we either paid substitutes to take our place or faked health problems.”

  Christian tilted his head to the side. “I once met a man who cut off his own foot to dodge a draft.”

  Claude’s leather jacket creaked as he sat back. “Sounds delightful.”

  I took a huge bite of my burger, listening to the conversation as they reminisced over evading the military in times of war.

  Christian’s phone vibrated. “Jaysus wept. All this fecking technology. Can’t even have two seconds to enjoy a meal.”

  “What meal?” Gem asked, gesturing at the empty table in front of him. “I don’t see how you can just sit there and smell all this divine food.” She pulled the straw out of her glass and licked the bottom. “I could just eat all day long.”

  Christian put his phone away after quickly checking it. “Aye, and you can start with Raven’s bovine sandwich.”

  A pickle slapped onto my plate, and I looked up. “What do you mean?”

  “Now that we’re available, Viktor has another assignment that begins now.”

  “Can’t it wait?”

  Christian laced his fingers together. “By all means, take your time. We’re on our way to look at a corpse, so be sure to finish every last juicy bite.”

  I set down my burger after Christian managed to kill my appetite. “Just when I thought I was going to end my day on a normal note.”

  Claude chuckled. “What gave you the idea that our lives were normal?”

  “Want to hitch a ride with us?” I asked Gem while grabbing my jacket.

  Her sparkly shades slid down to the tip of her nose. “Alas, my schedule today is full, and I don’t have room anywhere to squeeze in dead bodies.”

  Just as well. Gem didn’t like seeing that stuff anyhow.

  After I got up and waited for Christian to scoot out of his seat, I stared at all the uneaten food on my plate.

  “Do me a favor and don’t let my lunch go to waste,” I said to Claude. “Betty doesn’t like it when people leave a full plate behind.”

  His handsome features twisted with horror. “But I just ate three helpings of meatballs before we left.”

  Poor guy. I almost felt sorry for him, knowing he would do it.

  I patted his shoulder. “Take one for the team.”

  Chapter 2

  I swallowed hard, standing at the feet of a dead man. “That’s really disgusting.”

  Christian knelt in front of the headless body. “I couldn’t agree more. Corduroy trousers are the uniform they issue in hell.”

  He poked at the pool of blood on the linoleum floor but didn’t taste it. It looked fresh, and there were spatters of it on the walls and countertops where it must have sprayed.

  I swung open the fridge. “What do you think happened to it?”

  “Perhaps it grew legs and walked away.” Christian rose to his feet and jerked open the oven door. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like this before.”

  “Talk about losing your head.”

  He wiped his bloody finger on a clean rag. “Perhaps someone wanted a trophy above the fireplace.”

  “Viktor said it just happened within the hour. Why didn’t the higher authority send in the Regulators or cleaners?” I nudged the body with my foot. “What’s so special about this guy?”

  The doorbell rang.

  “That’s him,” Christian said, bustling to the door.

  I waited in the kitchen of the upscale apartment and looked at the stainless-steel appliances, which were spattered with blood. A pool had soaked right through the accent rug and spread across the black tile. This guy was loaded, but an accent rug? I opened the fridge and looked inside. Yogurt, chocolate-covered strawberries, a vegetable platter, wine—there was no way this portly man lived here alone. Maybe his wife got tired of his complaining.

  Wyatt appeared in the doorway, and when he got a gander at the body on the floor, he pulled his knit hat over his face. “Son of a ghost! I’m not doing this.” When he tried to turn around, Christian blocked the doorway, gripping the doorjamb on either side. Wyatt shoved at him to no avail, the hat still covering his face. “Viktor said you needed me to help with something on your assignment. I thought he meant hacking into a computer or cracking an electronic safe. Nobody mentioned the Headless Horseman.”

  “It just happened,” I pointed out. “Maybe you should have a look around before he floats away into the oblivion.”

  Christian snatched Wyatt’s hat. “See anything, Spooky? Because we can’t make a positive identification until we’ve located his head.”

  Wyatt scowled. “Do you know how creepy a floating head is? That’s what happens when it separates from their body. And you can’t have a conversation with it. They don’t have any lungs.”

  “They’re dead. They don’t have any lungs to begin with.”

  “Don’t be such a fanghole. You’re not the one who has to see it. Besides, you don’t understand how it works.” Wyatt stepped over the corpse to stand beside me. “It only matters what they think. If they can’t see their body, they don’t think they can speak. No lungs, no throat—it’s all psychological.” He unzipped his army-green jacket and tucked his thumbs behind his skull belt buckle. “What happened?”

  Christian gripped the doorframe above his head and leaned forward. “The higher authority believes this might be one of their own, but they want a positive ID.”

  “Did you search his wallet for his assigned alias? It’s all in the system.”

  Christian gave him a lethal stare. “You wouldn’t be here if we had a wallet, now would you? And even if we had one, we don’t have a face to match his license.”

  “Why is this our concern?”

  Christian let go of the frame. “Because it’s what we get paid for, you dolt.”

  I rubbed the goose bumps on my bare arms.

  Wyatt noticed my black tank top and jeans. “Where’s your jacket?”

  “In the truck.”

  “Where’s your bra?”

  “Are you going to help us or not?” When I took a step forward to walk around the body, my heel slipped in blood, and I hit the tile.

  Wyatt howled with laughter as I lay there in a puddle of blood, which had splashed everywhere.

  “This wasn’t in the brochure,” I muttered, cringing at the severed neck.

  Christian grabbed my hand and hauled me up. “Best we leave Spooky alone to summon the spirits while we check out the place for clues.”

  I shook blood off my arm and used a dishrag to wipe off my hands. “This apartment belongs to a woman. They might live together, but if so, she wears the pants in this relationship.”

  “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

  I pitched the bloody rag into the sink. “Because men don’t buy flowery accent rugs. There’s no beer, no leftover pizza, and no manly furniture.
Besides, I looked at the contents of the fridge, and there’s no way I’m gonna believe that he’s a salad-eating man.”

  We roamed into the living room and looked around. The closed drapes blocked out most of the light, but one of them was fluttering.

  I pulled it back and revealed an open window. “What do you make of this?”

  “We’re not here to investigate a murder, only to identify a corpse.”

  “Indulge me.”

  “Route of escape?” he offered, approaching the glass.

  We eyed the three-story drop. It wasn’t that far, and a Mage could have healed. A Chitah might have scaled the walls, or maybe a Shifter flew out the window.

  But something about it didn’t sit well with me. “This just happened. Seems like crawling out a window in broad daylight would attract attention.”

  “Aye,” he agreed, circling the grey sofa. “Perhaps it was a jilted lover.”

  I scanned the room. Not a petal fallen from the fresh flowers on the glass coffee table. No overturned chairs, no blood, no ripped cushions, and not a single fringe on the area rug was out of line. “Who reported this? It doesn’t look like the guy had time to scream, let alone dial for help.”

  Christian sent a message to Viktor and waited before reading the reply. “Window washers. The window was open, and one of them sensed a murder had happened. According to Viktor, they didn’t enter the apartment.”

  “So the window was already open,” I said, stating the obvious as I rounded a swivel chair. “Maybe the killer changed his escape plan when he saw the workers outside on the scaffold.”

  “Then they would have seen the killer poking his head out, and we’d have witnesses. He never intended to bail through the window. It was already open.”

  I rubbed my nose, the air heavy with the scent of red roses. They were the kind of flowers you gave to a lover on a special occasion. I walked around in search of photographs, but it was futile considering Breed weren’t supposed to keep pictures of themselves outside of their fake licenses, which were all issued with alias information. Not everyone followed the rules, perhaps out of vanity or a secret desire to remember their lives, so I kept looking.