And then I remembered the dead body. With a sigh, I disengaged and pointed at Michael.
“Oh yeah,” Alex muttered. “I forgot about him.”
I giggled and then bit my lower lip. “Actually, I have another question.”
He watched me warily. “Yes?”
“Earlier, I could have sworn I saw the demon beneath his human mask. Was that my overactive imagination?”
Alex’s eyes widened at my observation. “You saw that?”
“It was real?”
He shook his head ruefully. “Yes, unfortunately. Humanoid demons are interesting. They have human form but the demon soul can sometimes become visible.”
I felt the blood rush from my head. “Do you—?”
Alex laughed loudly. “Thank goodness, no. With a half-incubus, my demon essence is just that. Essence. It does not have a physical manifestation at all. At all,” he repeated for emphasis.
I sighed in relief. “Okay good. Wanted to make sure you weren’t gonna grow devil horns at some point.”
Alex caressed my cheek. “No, I’m not.” He glanced at Michael’s inert body. “Guess it’s time to call 9-1-1.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the professional, dispassionate voice asked on the other end.
“I’ve been attacked in my home by a man. And I think he’s dead,” I said, unsure how I should disclose what happened.
The dispatcher’s voice sharpened. “Ma’am, are you hurt?”
“No.”
The dispatcher’s voice faded to the background, though I continued to answer her by rote: Did the man have a weapon? Did I know the man? Was anybody else in the home?
“The police are on their way, ma’am. Please stay on the line with me until they arrive, just in case.”
I noticed belatedly that while I had been talking, Alex had opened the door to my condo.
“Las Vegas Metro.”
Before they could utter another word, I was at the door. “Please come in. He’s…over there.” I gestured generally toward the couch, though given the size of my condo, they saw Michael after taking three steps through the door. One officer made a beeline for the body. The other stopped at my side, though kept an eye on his partner.
I watched the first officer check Michael’s pulse, turn to look at his partner, and give a small shake of his head. Confirming the death. Well, not officially until the medical examiner’s arrival, I supposed, yet enough confirmation that they didn’t have to worry about him being a threat. The first officer called some information in; based on my vast array of knowledge (from crime shows, of course), I assumed he was making sure the Medical Examiner and the Crime Scene Investigators were coming. I almost called out to have him contact Detective Jacob Dawson, lead investigator on the Actress Murders, then decided he’d figure that out for himself. Of course, it was well after midnight. Maybe the detective wouldn’t be on call?
I focused on the officer before me. About my age, with that former military look I could usually pick out of a crowd, and was very no-nonsense while he asked his questions. I explained what had happened, including that I had been on the phone with Alex when Michael showed up, which was how Alex knew I might be in danger. The officer stopped me.
“What made you suspect the deceased was the Actress Murderer?”
I glanced at Alex, which the officer did not miss. I shrugged and Alex jumped in, walking close enough to the officer that I had a feeling I knew what was coming.
Making intense eye contact, Alex breathed deeply while explaining. “I knew Michael. I knew he had met at least two of the victims. I asked him about it one day. I thought his answers didn’t make a lot of sense.”
My eyes grew big as I watched white mist leave the officer’s mouth during exhalations. His eyes softened and he nodded. “That makes sense. I’ll pass that along to the detective; he may want to ask you additional questions.”
Alex took a step backward. “Of course, Officer. Whatever I can do to help.”
I smothered a laugh when the officer, still looking a little confused, turned and walked over to his partner.
More commotion at my doorway drew our attention. I recognized Detective Dawson and surmised the others entering were medical and crime scene people. Two of the EMTs approached me and Alex.
We allowed them to look us over, but balked when they insisted we needed to go to the hospital.
“Ma’am, we’d like to make sure he didn’t hurt you.”
“I appreciate that, but do I look hurt?”
I smiled winningly and happily, to show, ‘See, I’m not just good, I’m great.’ It didn’t work, though the young man did offer a small smile in return.
I couldn’t believe I was about to do it. I looked over at Alex and gestured for a little assistance. A little incubus assistance. Alex shook his head slightly at my audacious turn and complied.
He stepped in close to the young EMT, who startled but did not give ground. Alex leaned in like maybe he was someone who didn’t recognize personal space. He smiled his beautiful smile (even the EMT responded slightly to it) and spoke. “We really appreciate everything you’ve done for us. You can clearly see we’re both perfectly fine. We’ll wait to speak with the detective when he’s ready and be done with this whole thing. You understand, right?”
Dazed, the EMT nodded. “I completely understand. I’ll make a note that there were no physical injuries requiring treatment or further examination. I’m glad you’re both okay.” He and his colleague jotted down a few notes before heading over to speak with the detective, who was wrapping up a conversation with the original responding officers and the medical examiner.
I felt guilty when Detective Dawson approached and I saw the suspicious look on his face.
“Can either of you explain this without sounding like you’re making the entire thing up?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Alex and I remained quiet. Detective Dawson sighed. “From what I’ve gathered, Michael Onyx attacked you in your home,” he started with a nod at me. “You arrived to assist,” he turned his attention to Alex. “And somewhere in there, Mr. Onyx wound up dead from head trauma.”
“That’s correct, Detective,” I finally spoke up. What happened was self-defense. There was no reason not to be up front about it. “He attacked me, Alex’s arrival distracted him, and I kneed him in the balls. Once he sufficiently recovered,” I shrugged, “he admitted he was the Actress Murderer, and Alex punched him in the face when he tried to attack us again. He hit his head, falling, had a seizure, and died.” My voice caught on that last word. Michael was a killer, but still. I had never seen someone die in person before.
Alex murmured his agreement to my account.
“About that,” Dawson responded. “You say he confessed to killing the women. Even though no concrete evidence has been supplied to suggest that today…or previously.” He stared long enough for me to feel uncomfortable.
“But pretty decent circumstantial evidence,” I countered. “All the women had similar appearances and Michael was present at all the scenes.”
The detective sighed again. “That’s true,” he agreed, though continued to stare at us.
As if sensing it was time again for his magic, Alex stepped closer to the detective, who put a hand out immediately. “Please stay back, Mr. Moore.”
Alex looked nonplussed by this statement but complied.
I wondered how he would work his incubus influence without the necessary distance. Suddenly, Alex began having a coughing fit. He rudely did not cover his mouth as he directed the forced air at the detective. Dawson turned and reflexively exhaled.
Ah, that’s how.
Detective Dawson made a face in apparent disgust. When Alex inhaled the white mist, though, Dawson’s expression took on an open visage. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of seeing Alex work his magic.
Now when Alex leaned in closer, t
he detective did not hold up a hand or say anything. “You already had Michael Onyx on your radar. Other witnesses reported they saw him speaking with several of the victims in the days leading up to their deaths. You believe he poisoned them with chemicals that simply aren’t remaining in the system long enough to be identified by the lab. We are innocent bystanders. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“I think it’s time for your team to go. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I watched in awe. The detective spoke to his team members, everyone gathered up their belongings, and they left. They actually left.
“Won’t they realize later that what they’re thinking doesn’t make any sense?” I asked once they were gone.
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean? Do your suggestions eventually fade?”
“They do, just not completely. It’s hard to explain. They may recognize that something seems off or maybe doesn’t add up, but they’ll remain convinced they have their guy. What usually happens is they’ll change the way they look at other information so that it fits the suggestions I gave them. Plus our story is the truth.”
“What usually happens? Hmm, how often do you use your ability?” I was teasing him now, and he knew it.
“Much more since I’ve met you,” he admitted, walking over to me.
“You’re in my personal space,” I told him, holding a hand up like the detective had.
Alex wrapped my hand in his. “I hope to be in even more of it soon,” he said, his voice a husky growl.
“I think that can happen,” I responded, pulling my hand from his and wrapping both arms around him. Our bodies fully touching felt electric.
Our lips met, lightly at first, then with deepening desire and intensity. A first kiss that met all the promises hinted at before.
I pulled back, knowing passion mirrored in our eyes. “Stay with me, my incubus,” I whispered.
“Always.”
EPILOGUE
The phone rang, jarring me. I might have to reconsider having a landline in the office. I had only slept a few hours the night of the ball or even Sunday night. I yawned. Cherie had taken a personal day, so I was answering my own phone.
“Hello?” I pulled my gaze from the laptop and gave the caller my undivided attention.
“Good morning, Catherine.”
It took me a second to place the voice. “Good morning, Robin,” I replied perfunctorily. I softened my tone; I wished I understood my instant dislike for the talent agent. “How are you this morning?”
“I’m well. Happy this nastiness with Michael Onyx was wrapped up.”
“Indeed.”
“I heard that he was killed in your condo.”
I remained quiet.
“By Alexander Moore, one of your clients.”
I sighed. She called to gossip. Lovely. Well, none of that was a secret. It had probably been all over the early morning news. Not that I had watched, of course; I was trying to get some sleep, albeit restless, unfortunately. I refocused on the call. “That is correct,” I gave a neutral response.
“Interesting that Mr. Moore was in your condo in the middle of the night.”
I gaped at the phone. What are we, in middle school? “Did you need something?”
“I’m calling to say I’m glad you’re okay,” she said insincerely. “The councilwoman will be on Entertainment Daily this morning talking about the story.”
“Why?” It popped out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
Robin sharply inhaled. “Why wouldn’t she? She’s very involved in the community.”
Now I rolled my eyes at the offense she took. Good grief, was she the councilwoman’s lackey? “Of course, she is. I’ll be sure to watch. Was there anything else?”
At least she didn’t miss the tone. “No. I’ll see you at the next chamber meeting.”
“Have a good day.” I hung the phone up in relief. She was so odd – and I still couldn’t really explain why. I typed on the laptop keyboard, calling up the television show’s website. They didn’t stream the show live, but the videos were loaded almost immediately after.
My cellphone pinged arrival of a text and I smiled when I saw it.
Good morning sunshine.
Good morning Alex.
Did you get any sleep?
A little. Btw, Robin the talent agent called. She said to watch Entertainment Daily this morning. Councilwoman will be on.
The one that you were asking about?
Yep.
I’ll watch.
It’s on a time delay for me; I’m watching on the computer.
I’ll text you if anything interesting happens, in case you want to skip it.
Lol. Dinner tonight?
Pick you up at 7.
I sent a few smiling emojis, minimized the show’s page, and focused back on the documents I had been working on. About fifteen minutes later, my cellphone pinged another incoming text.
Definitely should watch the show…
Anything I should know…
Just watch. Curious about your take on it.
Now my curiosity was piqued. I barely maintained attention on my documents until the show finished and its website reflected the video upload.
Finally. I clicked start and maximized the screen. Elizabeth Addison’s smiling face appeared. After welcoming viewers, her smile dropped. “In a stunning conclusion to the Actress Murders, the serial-murder-at-large has been stopped. Councilwoman Barbara Knollman, a grand supporter of the film production community in the Valley, is here with us this morning to discuss what happened. Welcome, Councilwoman Knollman.” She turned and the image switched to the camera on the councilwoman. Barbara lifted her head, her brown hair shiny under the lights, and smiled her creepy smile. I imagined she meant for it to be ingratiating.
“Thank you for having me, Elizabeth.”
The camera pulled back for a two-shot of the women, seated next to each other on two matching blue cloth chairs, as though meeting for tea in someone’s living room. The councilwoman, in a severe charcoal pantsuit, paled in comparison to the newscaster-attractiveness of Elizabeth in a hot pink fitted dress. And yet, there was something that compelled the eye. Perhaps this was why she kept being reelected.
Elizabeth provided a quick summary of the case for any of her viewers who’d spent the last months living under a rock and then opened the floor for the councilwoman. “Can you tell us what happened?”
“Of course.” Barbara stared directly into the camera, normally a no-no; however she clearly wanted everyone’s attention. It certainly worked on me. I stared at her obsidian eyes. “Two nights ago, following a masquerade ball hosted by a Las Vegas/Los Angeles-based production company—” interesting that she didn’t mention Mia by name “—at the home of talent agent Catherine Rodham, local actor Michael Onyx was killed in self-defense by another local actor, Alexander Moore.”
Buzzing filled my head. I considered her words. None of that was a lie and probably was mentioned in the newscasts this morning. But. I refocused on her continuing to talk. I already missed some.
“The police are confident that they have their man, so to speak, and that the city can sleep safe again tonight. Michael Onyx was an animal. A danger to civilized society. And we must be ever-vigilant to stop such threats from infiltrating our city.”
When the camera switched back to Elizabeth, she smoothed out her expression; not so fast that viewers missed her looking askance at the councilwoman. “That seems an… unnecessarily strong sentiment,” she said with a tight smile.
The camera returned to Barbara, her smile showing those small, sharp teeth that unnerved me. She shook her head slowly. “Oh, Elizabeth, it’s not. We’re at war.”
My jaw dropped open – along with Elizabeth’s, though she recovered faster. “Thank you, Councilwoman. It’s been interesting.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth. Always a pl
easure.”
The video ended and I stopped it before the webpage could auto-play the next in the series. I sat back in my chair. Holy cow. I grabbed my cellphone.
What did she mean? We’re at war?
I have no idea.
Could she know about…?
Possible.
What will you do?
It’ll be discussed in the appropriate circles and dealt with as necessary.
Okay then. That was quite a statement with no real information. Lol
Better this way.
I have no doubt.
See you tonight.
Again, we exchanged smiling emojis and then I got back to work, troubled by what I had seen, unsure of what it meant, and knowing I was entirely out of my depth anyway. Better for Alex and the supernatural world to address it.
*****
“I heard you have a greater level of understanding of my needs.” She crossed her legs, blue and white polka dot stockings peeking out below her mid-calf blue silk dress.
Normally that could be a cheesy sexual come-on, but since this was the fourth vampire sitting across from me in my office in less than a week, I understood exactly what she meant. Plus, we had met previously, and I knew she wasn’t propositioning me.
“I do, indeed, Evie,” I assured her. I loved how she still looked straight out of the 1920s with her blond bob and blue eyes, dark red lipstick contrasting with her creamy pale skin. I guessed that was her thing.
I took her through my standard spiel and paperwork. “I think that about wraps it up,” I concluded.
“One final thing.”
Uh-oh.
“Thank you.”
That caught me off guard. “For doing my job?”
“For being here. For being understanding and sympathetic to us. Not everyone is, or would be.”
“I appreciate that.”
“If you haven’t already, you can definitely expect more of our kind, as word continues to spread about you, and the Peterson Talent Agency.”
“I hope so. These are exciting times.” In so many different ways, I was finding out.
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