Zodiac Shifters Aries Love's Warrior

by Jennifer Hilt

  “You must be the investigator. I’m Dr. Chris Deegan.” The physician offered him a limp, moist handshake.

  Carson released her hand immediately. The physician’s pear-shaped body puzzled him. He had the disquieting experience of not being certain of the humanoid’s sex before him.

  “You sure arrived here quickly,” Deegan said.

  He sniffed, discreetly of course. There it was. A trace of female pheromones. Deegan was probably close in age to his own forty-seven. The whiskers on his chin were more favorably received than the bristles under Deegan’s.

  “The marshal’s office takes the murder of its own very seriously. Now I must go. My colleague is waiting for me.”

  “Sure thing.” The doc gave a cheery wave before standing in the door to watch him walk down the hall.

  Deegan was a strange one to be sure.

  And the second call he received from the Station last night. He considered what he knew about the physician—an impeccable work record of a respected witch from California. Her lack of physical attractiveness was no crime. It hardly flattered him that he’d been suspicious of her solely on the basis of her gender.

  “Where’s Lizzie Borden?” Mariko greeted him. She didn’t look up from the two bodies laid out on the table, Jessica’s former roommate and their former colleague. His partner wore a blue surgeon’s garb, her go-to attire for postmortem. She’d turned the heat access off for this room. It didn’t bother him but he knew it was tough on her. Being cold-blooded, she needed to stay warm enough to function.

  Two tables served as slabs for the autopsies. Dated charts on the walls reminded paranormals about the importance of preventative care under the campaign “When you want your health to last for eternity.” Carson was willing to bet this was the first time Mariko was performing postmortems surrounded by information on dental care for vamps and the importance of a diverse diet for shifters. The room had the same shitty fluorescent lighting as the interrogation room.

  “She’s locked in her lab. Hopefully she can’t kill anyone there.” Gallows humor suited his mood. He pulled on a mask to observe Mariko’s exam.

  “You don’t have to be here. You can read my report. I’ll have it in a few hours.” She peered into their dead colleague’s open chest cavity. “Shifters are sentimental. It’s a weakness. Randall Kerpak knew the risks of his job.”

  Objectively Carson knew she was correct but he felt the young warlock’s death weigh on him. He didn’t expect Root to strike out so boldly. What was his game here? And where the hell was he hiding? Because if Carson knew anything it was that this was the work of Cornelius Root.

  “What do you know about the Rumpelstiltskin theory?”

  “Not much,” Mariko stood on tiptoe to peer inside the corpse with a penlight. “Only that every few years some mage thinks he or she found the secret to turn common matter into gold. It’s a fairy tale. Ever heard of those human ‘eat what you want and still lose weight diets?’ Same idea.” She pressed a measuring tape into the incision in Randy’s neck. Mariko held up the tape, her normally smooth brows puckered. “Write down some numbers for me.” She rattled off a string of data.

  He copied the numbers on her clipboard. Usually Carson appreciated Mariko’s lack of empathy. She was like a guy in a hot little Asian body—it made their work less complicated. But then there were times like this that his vamp colleague reminded him she was cold-blooded.

  “The victim was almost decapitated. If the suspect was a vamp or another shifter, it wouldn’t be surprising, but a witch?”

  “She lifts at the gym.” Carson cleared his throat, raising his arm in a curl. “Or at least she used to. She can’t harm or protect for that matter, only heal.”

  He couldn’t bring himself to mention Jessica’s Amazon warrior past. If Mariko or anyone else knew, Jess would be assumed guilty. The news that an Amazon warrior lived among them under the guise of a witch would not go over well.

  “Hmm.” Mariko pulled a sheet over Randy. She shed her used gloves and donned fresh ones. She folded back the sheet on the first victim. “What do you know about this one?”

  “Former roommate here. Maribel Teague and Jessica knew of each other before but never met more than a few times at coven gatherings.”

  “What was she here to study?”

  “Officially geology but she too was on the Rumpelstiltskin project.” He really hated that name—they needed to come up with something less offensive to call it. He wasn’t keen to reference fairy tales in his reports.

  “What’s the project status?”

  “The team members said everyone works on a different area. No one person has access to all the information yet.”

  Mariko rattled off a series of numbers from the measurements around the second victim’s neck, which he dutifully copied down.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “I think someone was sharing information. Your examination turn up anything else?”

  “I’m going to examine her further but I can tell you this. The cold preserved them nicely. I collected specimens to test for toxins.” The only thing that pleased Mariko more than apprehending criminals was data. “I’ll send those off today. Other than that, I know exactly how they died; they bled to death.”

  “Now just to find out who and why.”

  “You really sure your ex isn’t behind this?” Mariko glanced over at him. When their eyes met, she held his gaze. Her irises were almost as dark as her pupils. He knew it made glamouring humans and lesser paranormals easy work for her.

  “You don’t know Jessica like I do,” Carson said. He prayed his colleague didn’t find out Jessica was an Amazon warrior. Even though Jess was retired, Mariko would find that little fact impossible to ignore.

  “Obviously.” She raised her eyebrows. “I agree she seems unlikely. By the way, you really go for that deer in the headlights look.”

  Carson bit back a smile. If Jessica heard that she would not be happy although it may save her sweet ass. It wasn’t a fair assessment or even accurate. He suspected in her way, she was being protective of her boss.

  “Who better to be skeptical than an ex-husband? Besides, she has no motive.”

  “I don’t care if your ex-wife is Mother Theresa. Being able to turn worthless rocks into gold is one hell of a motivator.”

  Jessica wasn’t driven by material possessions. Of the two of them, he preferred the top of the line vehicles and gadgets, and Jessica still drove her ten-year-old Jeep.

  What did matter to her? Certainly not him, she’d made that clear.

  “You just said that the project was worthless.”

  “No, I did not.” Mariko replied. “I shared what I’ve experienced. In the past the claims were baseless. What if this time there’s some truth in it?”

  “You think that’s why Root is here?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I’m not sure what I believe yet. Right now, everything is too tidy. We arrive here to find a prime suspect who is incapable of committing the crimes she’s accused of.”

  “You shouldn’t have come here. You should’ve let me and Bertelli run the investigation onsite.”

  “That’s the other thing that bothers me—my wife is the accused murderer.”

  “I thought you two were divorced.”

  “Shifters mate for life.”

  “Why did you agree to the divorce?”

  “She wanted it.” Three simple words caused him so much heartache.

  Mariko pulled the sheet over the first victim’s head. She shed her gloves before once again donning new ones. Carson was mildly curious how she’d cope in these make-shift surroundings. Back in Fairbanks, she was very fond of her windowless lab with the latest in medical equipment and technology.

  “Are you going to clean those?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking when she placed the bloodied instruments on a plastic dishpan. Carson was sure that when Mariko borrowed it from the kitchen she did not divulge its intended use.r />
  She held up a wide silver serving spoon covered in congealed blood. “Why? Want to lick the spoon?”

  Carson grinned. Yep, gallows humor made him feel better every time.

  Like all vamps, Mariko was intensely private about her personal habits. He had no idea of the logistics of her feeding. He noted sometimes that her alabaster skin was more pale than normal for her. As her colleague and supervisor though, Carson knew better than to express interest or concern for her.

  “I don’t know what this witch did to you.” Mariko placed the tub of utensils in the room’s utility sink. She sprayed hot water over the contents before dumping in a giant dollop of liquid soap. “One thing is for sure though. She succeeded in removing your sense of humor. It wasn’t ever great to begin with but ever since we arrived here. Think it’s too late for me to begin a career in standup comedy?”

  5

  Jessica spent eight hours in her lab poring over data. She’d trialed a frost lavender potion on an ailing puffin she’d named Addy a week ago. Addy not only recovered but according to the data, the repaired muscles were stronger than the non-injured ones.

  Outwardly the puffin appeared just like every other puffin she’d seen in Alaska with bright dark eyes, red curved beak and black and white feathers. However, this puffin had a severe wing gash that prevented flight. Most likely the local bullies, the Skua birds, were the culprits. Her frost lavender potion boosted by a healing charm accelerated any normal healing time.

  Addy was now able to fly about the lab. She’d taken to dive-bombing Jessica’s head when she was hungry.

  At midday, Luanne delivered a lunch tray. The fox shifter’s eyes darted around the lab. Did she think Jessica was plotting escape? Laughable when she’d perish outside without proper clothing. And really, where could Jessica go? She was at the end of the world as it was.

  Jessica ate her grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup in silence except for Addy’s campaign for her bread crust. Jessica’s brain hummed with Carson’s presence.

  Even when they were separated she was aware of him moving around the station. It was a strange kind of ache that happened when she missed one certain person, especially a super annoying one who turned up right where he wasn’t wanted.

  Seriously, he could’ve sent anyone here. Anyone else. He couldn’t be the only marshal available here. And that vamp. Jess was not a fan of vamps in general but the way she looked at Carson made Jessica want to bite her.

  After lunch, Jessica returned to data mining. Maybe Carson would let her sleep in here. He could have a cot delivered. It was insane the other paranormals suspected her. She was glad her Amazon past was a secret. She’d renounced violence in all forms. She was incapable of hurting anyone now.

  At the end of her eight hours, she made sure Addy had plenty of fresh water. She set aside her notes to prevent a bored Addy from shredding them. She liked life in the lab. It was tidy. She was in control, unlike life outside the lab. But she enjoyed the freedom to move around at will better.

  Sure enough, right at five o’ clock Luanne returned to escort her back to her trailer. Jessica savored the clean, cold winter air. She would make a horrible prisoner. Just knowing she couldn’t leave the lab made her anxious to get out by the end of the day. Luanne was silent again on their walk. After Jessica stopped at Luanne’s trailer, the fox shifter waved her to keep on going.

  “You can stay at your place tonight.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Jessica wanted to hug Luanne but resisted. Shifters were very particular about their personal space. She turned back to give Luanne a wave.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t let the bastards get you down.” Luanne turned around without waiting for an answer.

  Jessica was hopeful. Perhaps Carson had already made progress in finding the killer. He was an excellent marshal. She’d seen him in action. Once this was cleared up, he’d be on his way and she could try to focus on her research for her remaining time.

  Inside her trailer, Jessica went about removing her parka and boots.

  Unlike Luanne’s single trailer, hers was a double-wide with the same impersonal touch of institutional rooms everywhere. Science posters decorated the blank wall, some even tacked over others, like a form of tagging. She shook her head. Jessica knew better than most that scientists who studied the Arctic were the weirdest of the weird. Most of them were trying to get to Antarctica and using this to build resumes. Not Jessica—after this she was going home to Fairbanks.

  But first a shower to wash away the day’s worry. Hustling in to her room, she shucked her too short pants and panties along with her socks, dropping them on the floor. She entered the bathroom and turned on the shower to give the water time to warm up.

  With the room warming with steam, she pulled her borrowed sweatshirt over her head. Crap. She was stuck.

  She pulled at her tangled mess, wiggling the reset of her body in hopes of getting unstuck. The bathroom door shuddered. Someone had opened an outer door, letting in a draft.

  “Hello?” she called. “Luanne? I’ll be right out.”

  No answer.

  Fuck.

  Maybe not Luanne. Was the murderer out there waiting to finish her off? Great—she was about to die in the most embarrassing of ways.The bathroom door opened, and a gush of cold air rushed in.

  Jessica wiggled faster. She freed her arms and head of the accursed clothes. Her hair released a wave of static.

  She blinked.

  Carson.

  6

  Whoa.

  Carson had months to play out their potential first meeting with just the two of them. He’d never reckoned greeting Jessica tits first though.

  His mouth went dry. How in the hell did she still smell like orange blossoms in Icy Cap? Carson smothered a groan. God, he missed those natural DD cups of her hers. Her deep pink nipples puckered in the air.

  He wanted to lick her glowing skin. He’d missed her so much he almost dropped to his knees.

  “What are you doing here?” Jessica snatched a towel from the rack to cover herself.

  “Looking for a murderer. I’m heading up an investigation and you are the prime suspect. I thought we covered that.” Carson yawned to cover the fact that his cock was already hard.

  “I know why you’re in Icy Cap, you fur brain. What are you doing in my trailer?”

  “Since you’re suspected of murdering your previous roommate, I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight lest you murder again. Anyway, I’m beat. You still prefer me on top?”

  At Jessica’s strangled sound, he pointed to the empty bunk above him.

  “You can’t stay here,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “You didn’t tell them we’re married.” Jessica sat down hard on her desk chair.

  “I’ve omitted that detail for now. Along with your family of origin.”

  “The vamp knows, right?”

  Carson’s laugh sounded more like a bark. “Mariko knows everything but that.”

  “That’s a surprise.” Jessica pulled on a clean sweatshirt. It fell to the top of her thighs. She wasn’t wearing a bra or panties. Her scent spilled out from the bathroom, filling the room.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Mariko is a professional. Don’t let your prejudices against vamps blind you to how valuable she is.”

  “You’re a fine one to lecture me about prejudices. Your ice bear clan had it out for me from the beginning.”

  “That probably had something to do with one of your sisters enchanting my brothers into teddy bears.”

  “That was an accident!”

  Carson raised an eyebrow. “You always take their side even when it’s against your own happiness.”

  “They’re my family,” she said lamely.

  “I am too.”

  “We’re divorced,” she said.

  “I mate for life.”

  Jessica was afraid. How had he not seen that before? Because he was a prideful ice bear. When she
’d asked for the divorce he couldn’t see beyond his own hurt and anger.

  But here, there was nowhere for her to run. That was the good news. They could hash this out. Unfortunately, Carson had two things working against him: his mate was suspected of murder and he suspected someone was trying to kill her.

  Carson woke at 2:00 a.m. He listened to Jess’s even breathing from the top bunk. He’d wormed his way into her room down here but he’d made no progress breaking down the wall she’d built between them. He might as well be back in Fairbanks. Listening to her peaceful breathing, Carson contemplated this situation. His wife wasn’t a killer. He’d bet his life on that. But someone was setting her up. Who and why?

  “What’s with the beard?”

  Jessica had been playing possum.

  “Like it?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” she said.

  Judging from the phone numbers slipped to him, other women liked his beard. But what about her? Jess alone was what mattered to him. Carson gave his beard a tug.

  The room’s darkness made talking a bit easier. Good thing too, because hearing her voice caused his cock to throb.

  “What are you afraid of?” He asked the question plaguing him since she’d left.

  “Nothing.”

  She was a poor liar.

  “Are you embarrassed to be married to a shifter?”

  “No.”

  “Are you afraid of me?” He had to know. After months of puzzling over her departure, he’d concluded he must’ve scared her off somehow.

  Jessica snorted.

  The corner of his lips quirked up. He’d missed his feisty girl.

  “You know I’d never hurt you.”

  “Carson, face facts. It can’t work. We’re too different.”

  “This from a woman who ran off to Icy Cap. Was joining the circus too convenient?”

  “I’m here for work,” she said.

  “Bullshit. You’re hiding.”

  “Go to sleep,” she said.