Twisted Desire

by Sharon Kay

  Oh. This night was turning out more like a spy movie with each new revelation these guys had up their sleeves. Didn’t people do that in old films—lean down, listen to the lock, and presto, pop it open?

  Fascinated, she watched him do just that. In under a minute, even she heard the tiny internal click, and then Rhys disengaged the latch. “Wow,” she whispered.

  Parker grinned from his stance at the doorway. “Haven’t lost your touch, Mac. You always were the best at that shit.” His focus swung to Megan, suddenly appearing politely chagrined. “Sorry.”

  She shook her head. “No worries. Working with mostly men, taking college classes with mostly men, I hear cursing all the time. And I’m impressed.”

  “Well, I don’t know if you’ll be impressed by this.” Rhys removed a rack of test tubes. “This safe is temperature controlled. He’s got these and …” He frowned. “Some uh, jewelry, I guess.” He held up a pewter sphere on a chain. “Doesn’t look like much. And there’s some hair.”

  “Hair?” Now it was Megan’s turn to make a face. “Why would he have that?”

  “Is it human hair?” Locke asked.

  “I’ll tell you if I can see it under a microscope,” she said. “May I?”

  She could have sworn Rhys didn’t want to hand it over. But he did. Blonde and silky, the long strands felt feather light against her skin. Rhys set the rack of test tubes on the desk as well.

  Megan peered at the neat labels. All had a date and the name, Trina. “I’ll see if these dates correspond to the dates on his files,” she said. “This is…I don’t know what he could’ve been working on. It may take me a bit of time to decipher. And this file here.” She pointed to one that had just given her an error message. “I think it’s encrypted.”

  “I can fix that.” Parker gave her a chin lift.

  “While you’re deciphering and unencrypting, I’m going to take this to a guy I know.” Rhys rolled the necklace in his palm. “He can analyze the metal and take it apart to see if there’s anything unusual about it. I’m also going to drop by Jerry’s place, see if I can pick up any clues.”

  “Do you need his address?” Megan asked.

  “Nope, got it from the HR database,” Parker said. “Already texted it to the team.”

  Megan wasn’t sure if she was even more impressed or possibly creeped out, Then again, after the other things Parker had done, getting addresses was probably Hacker 101. But she had to ask the next question that popped into her mind. “Do you have mine, too?”

  “Yes.” Parker looked a tiny bit sheepish, but she appreciated his honesty. “We’re not planning to come over, but we want to know where you are if there’s an emergency. Keep an eye on you since you may be working with someone who may be…”

  “Conducting rogue science,” she finished with a shudder.

  “And has violent tendencies,” Locke added. “We don’t let harm come to the innocent.”

  Sincerity flowed through his words, and she didn’t think for a minute that he was lying. “Oh. Thanks.” It seemed like such a small word. But what else could she say?

  “So, I’ll catch up with you later.” Rhys ducked out.

  Locke rounded the desk and took up position by the office door, while Parker stepped close.

  “I can open up the file,” he said and spared a glance at the hair and vials of blood. “Kinda nuts if you ask me.”

  Out of all the stuff that had happened, Megan couldn’t agree more. But curiosity trumped any sense of weirdness. Ready to dig until she had some kind of answer, she got up so Parker could work his magic on the file.

  CHAPTER 6

  A SHARP CHILL WIND BLEW against Rhys’s face as he exited the side door of the Dayton Diagnostics building. He welcomed it, loved the bite of fall and the chance to hunt instead of sitting in an office. He’d typed a quick text to Jude on the way down the stairs. His friend had been on city patrol with the rest of their Watcher team, but planned to be available if needed.

  Rhys started walking in the direction of Jerry’s condo, and by the time he reached the next block, Jude dropped onto the sidewalk in front of him. “Give me details, man.”

  Rhys summed up the night’s events as they strode north to the nice neighborhood where Jerry lived. Not the fanciest in the city, but one that still managed to show off its wealth through expensive cars and ladies who wore fur coats in the winter.

  “Tashuri?” Jude muttered. “What the hell is he doing?”

  “Blood samples, hair, charts. I have a bad feeling about this.” Rhys eyed a souped up Honda tearing through an intersection ahead. Tashuri, though from an ancient Demonish dialect, was a well-known word among the immortal species.

  It’s meaning? Mate bond.

  “Dude, I don’t think that was human DNA in his files,” Jude grumbled.

  “No shit.” The last thing they needed, on top of a rogue Deserati demoness killing humans, was a crazy scientist in the mix. Working with her? Against her? Who fucking knew. He texted Parker. Whatever is in those files needs to stay on the down low.

  Parker wrote back immediately. Agree.

  “Think it’s Deserati DNA?” Jude asked.

  “Could be, but why?”

  “If it is, I see why he’s working on it with no grant money.” Jude kicked a beer bottle out of his way. “How’d he even explain that shit to the boss?”

  “We can read through the emails Parker dug up. But I’m more interested in this Trina.”

  “Yeah, the girlfriend. And the probable source of the blood.”

  “And that hair carried Deserati scent. No doubt.” Rhys had recognized the telltale pepper and clove odor as soon as he opened the safe.

  “Let’s assume she’s a Deserati. And we know Scott was killed by a Deserati tail strike. So one, why is Trina dating a human? And two, was she the one who killed Scott? Since he wanted Project Tashuri shut down.” Jude gave a quick wave to a pair of nymphs who called to them from up on the El platform. “Not tonight ladies, have fun without us.”

  “Question three,” Rhys went on. “Is Jerry a full human?” His own beautiful Enza was half Deserati demon, and half very much Italian human.

  “Point.” Jude said. “Did you pick up any other scents in his office?”

  “No. Just the ones from the hair. I didn’t detect anything different from the amulet.” And shit. If they didn’t already know Trina was Jerry’s girlfriend, the guy would appear to be a bona fide stalker. “I couldn’t tell what kind it was, but I’ve got it with me. Rilan will know what it is.” Rilan, the Elder demon of the Chicago group, had an encyclopedic knowledge of all things magical.

  They continued east, as offices gave way to fancy condos. Most of the neighborhood’s new, one-word-named restaurants were closing down for the night. Only a few souls walked the streets.

  A few minutes later, they were at Jerry’s condo. Its white stone façade stretched up a few dozen floors, decorated with balconies and elegant arched windows. Rhys eyed the iron balconies. “Too bad. I could use a stretch. It’d be nice to jump. But there are too many eyes here.”

  “Yup.” Jude pushed through the revolving door and into a marble-floored lobby. Farther down, a set of glass doors stood between them and the elevators. With a swipe of Rhys’s access card—the same one he had at Dayton Diagnostics—they were standing in front of gaudy gold metal doors.

  A woman, who looked like she was in her twenties, rushed over as the elevator doors opened. She carried a purse-sized fluffy dog wearing a giant pink bow on its head. In her other hand she held a phone. “Oh, hold the door please!” She darted inside. “Thanks!”

  Rhys and Jude followed, staying on their side. Humans were so weird with elevator etiquette. They thought anyone who didn’t follow the no-talking-no-looking rules were strange. The pooch though, started growling the minute the doors closed.

  “Aphrodite, you stop that!” the woman scolded. She gave Rhys and Jude an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry. She never does this—sto
p!”

  The dog had switched to full-voice barking, now directed at Jude. Jude just raised his eyebrows as Rhys held in a laugh.

  Animals often detected the demons’ scents. Not understanding it, they reacted loudly, with typically mortified owners. It was entertaining at best, annoying at worst. And this tiny slipper of a canine was too damn funny.

  “It’s really okay,” Jude said, putting on a serious face.

  “No, it’s not. I am so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into her.” The woman sighed in tangible relief as the car signaled her floor, and the doors opened. She hustled off, still admonishing her pet, “Such a bad girl! You embarrassed Mommy in front of those nice men.”

  The doors closed and Rhys snorted. “When was the last time anyone called you a nice man?”

  “Two days ago at your woman’s coffee shop. I think it was one of the yoga moms. And then I think it was one of the college girls the day before that. And Meena did, too, I’m pretty sure—”

  “Yeah, yeah, shut it. It was rhetorical, dude.” Rhys glared at the light-up display above the door.

  Ping. Jerry’s floor. “Here we go.”

  The clean scent of carpet shampoo wafted to Rhys’s nose. That, and human, was all he smelled until they got to Jerry’s unit. Here, the telltale pepper and clove fragrance of Deserati demon hung heavily in the air.

  Both Watchers paused, listening. If Jerry and Trina were home, great. They could hash this out demon style. Everything in Jerry’s office pointed to him knowing his girlfriend wasn’t human.

  And if they weren’t, Rhys and Jude would search every inch of the place.

  “I don’t hear anything,” Jude said.

  “Me neither.” Rhys pulled his lock-picking tools from his pocket and got to work. Sure, he could wrench the knob free, but leaving things intact would be less noticeable in this posh hallway. With a few practiced maneuvers, the inner workings clicked, and the door swung open. Rhys and Jude stepped in and shut the door.

  Inside, Deserati and human scents permeated the air. Recent, but not strong to indicate they were home. The place’s décor could be best described as neutral generic chic. A few black and white photos of Chicago hung on the walls. A black leather sectional couch dominated the living room in front of a fake gas fireplace. Tall windows stretched high on either side of it. The lack of shades or blinds allowed for a perfect view of Lake Michigan at night—black, immense, and stretching into the distance.

  “I’ll check the bedroom.” Jude headed down a hallway off the living area.

  Rhys stepped close to the fireplace. The mantle was lined with framed photos, and upon closer inspection, all were of Jerry, easily recognized from the employee ID photo Parker had sent him. And with Jerry was, as Megan had stated, a beautiful blonde woman. They had taken selfies all over the city.

  Just from a visual inspection, Rhys couldn’t discern if the woman was a Deserati. They all possessed the ability to magically hide their horns and tail from human eyes, and apparently she had done so in all these snapshots.

  Jude ambled back into the room. “That room stinks of human, Deserati, and sex. No weapons, just piles of clothes. Not clean, either.” He picked up a photo. “This is them, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “What’s he doing with her blood?” Jude mused, replacing the photo and picking up another. “Wait.” He peered closer at the image, then handed it to Rhys. “Check out her left hand.”

  Rhys took the picture. Sure enough, her left ring finger sparkled with a traditional engagement ring. “Well, shit. Engaged? Which one of them is more delusional?”

  The supernatural species didn’t marry like humans did, but instead formed a lifelong connection called a mate bond. It linked their emotions and thoughts and remained unbreakable except in death.

  And it couldn’t occur between supernaturals and full-blooded humans. Rhys had heard of witches on their native realm of Torth trying to force it, but since humans were inherently weaker and possessed no magic, the witches had no success.

  “Does she plan to marry him and live only as long as he does?” Jude frowned.

  “Or is she humoring him somehow?” Rhys set the photo down and shook his head. “Makes no sense.”

  Jude paced to one tall window. “Why kill Scott Dayton?”

  “Might not have been her.” Rhys headed to the kitchen. “Coulda been a rogue Des.”

  “Then we’re back to the question of why would a rogue Des kill Scott Dayton.”

  Rhys opened each cabinet and each drawer. A little cluttered, but nothing amiss. He opened the fridge, half expecting more blood or some DNA-related crap, but all he found were a few beers and three really old oranges. He closed it and stalked back to the living area. “I’m betting Dayton was killed over something work related.”

  “Tashuri?”

  “Possibly.” Rhys set his hands on his hips. “But we don’t know if Dayton had any other projects in the works. Maybe someone wanted it shut down. Maybe someone wanted it sooner than he could make happen. Maybe even black market shit.” Goddamn it. No answers and a rogue loose. He pulled out his phone and texted Parker.

  Rhys: You got anything?

  Parker: He has a couple files with complex encryptions. I’m taking them apart, but it will take time.

  Rhys: How long?

  Parker: Hours. Maybe twelve.

  A pause.

  Parker: You find anything?

  Rhys: No one’s home, not much else here. Looks like Jerry and the girlfriend are engaged.

  Parker: Fucking weird that he had her blood in his office.

  Rhys: Yeah. Let’s hope his files can explain it.

  Parker: We’ll make sure Megan gets home safely. Got the files I need for now. Talk to you in the morning.

  Rhys typed a thumbs-up icon and shoved his phone into his pocket. “They’re running an anti-encryption program that won’t finish until midmorning. They’re wrapping up.”

  “Well, we got all we could get from this place. We may as well leave.” Jude ran a hand over his hair. “Trina will know we were here.”

  “Good.” The Lash demons’ scent would linger and would be clear to her enhanced sense of smell, just as hers was to them. “It’ll light a fire under her ass that we’re on to her. May make her surface faster.”

  Jude shook his head. “Let’s hope your buddy’s skills come through. Until he finds something, or until we find Trina, we still have a big problem running around the city.”

  “If anyone can get digital info, Parker can.” Rhys strode to the door and out into the hall. “I will say this until I die: that dude has a mind like a motherboard.”

  “All right, man. I trust you. And I have a hunch that Scott was targeted, like you say. But we need to do a patrol, just to make sure there aren’t any more humans dead by demons tonight.”

  Rhys nodded. In a minute, they were back on the dark street below. Working in a grid pattern, they began their examination of the neighborhood, block by block, not planning to stop until dawn.

  CHAPTER 7

  LOCKE WATCHED MEGAN EXAMINING NUMBERS and charts the way his dog eyed a plate of meat scraps. She was in the zone, riveted, and hot as hell. Maybe he was an ass for thinking that right now, but something about the way she broke down all those numbers into something useful and relatable was sexy. He sat in the chair across from her, trying not to notice each time her brows knitted or she murmured a fascinated a-ha or hmm as she scrolled through Jerry’s work.

  Her initial startlement at three strange men walking into her lab seemed long gone, and Locke had worked his best to make their impromptu team give the feeling that they were one hundred percent on her side. Which they were, even if she didn’t ask for them, and even if she had imagined something like a person with a tail. Now, she leaned back in her seat. “My head is spinning.”

  “Any guess as to what Jerry was trying to do?” Locke asked.

  “It looks like he was trying to manipulate DNA.” She rubbed her temp
les. “Which we do here. We’re a biomedical research firm seeking to reduce the reach and viability of infectious diseases. But this…this is something different.”

  “Then it makes sense that this wouldn’t have grant money, if it diverged from the norm, right?” Parker asked.

  “Yep. But whose DNA…his? Trina’s? And why?” She shook her head. “It’s a fine line, ethically.”

  Locke nodded. “Sleep on it?”

  Her green eyes darted to him, registering a flash of surprise. “Sleep? Um, yeah, of course.”

  He quirked a brow, amused and instantly wondering if her mind had gone to the same place his had. The thought of sleep led to thoughts of her in bed, preferably with him. “Something I said?”

  She blushed. “No, it’s nothing. I’m overtired. Sleep sounds wonderful right now.”

  Locke wasn’t sure which of his words got under her skin, and she was pretty darn cute getting flustered. But that’s not why they were here. “Let’s go.” He stood, and Parker pushed off the wall he’d been leaning on.

  “Let me grab my purse and lock up my office,” Megan murmured, sliding past Locke. She didn’t linger, didn’t flirt. But her cheeks remained crimson

  “Dude, what did you say to her?” Parker smirked.

  “Dunno.” Locke shrugged. “Though I’ll take up the unspoken invitation to find out.”

  A few minutes later, they filed into the elevator and descended to the first floor. When the car opened into the gleaming lobby, two security guards stood warily, hands close to their weapons.

  “Everything okay, miss?” one asked Megan. “We saw the elevator coming down from Dayton’s floor.”

  “Yes, everything is fine, thank you. We’re all done. We’re the last ones to leave.”

  They both nodded, and Locke felt their eyes on him as they headed to the revolving doors. Fine. It was good they were there; better than nothing, but Locke could have taken them both out in two minutes. But maybe so could whoever butchered Scott Dayton’s chest.

  Pushing the image out of his head, he focused on Megan’s narrow shoulders as he shoved through the door. Exhaust fumes and cool fall air met them on the dark street. “Where’s home?” he asked her.