by Kate Pearce
Ella scanned the pages. “Have you come across any mention of a man called Adam?”
“Specifically?” Liz’s silver Fae-Web unfurled over her head and started to shimmer. “Not that name, although from the fragments we have, most of the victims claim they did meet up with a helpful stranger just before their faces disappeared.”
“A helpful stranger.” Feehan wrote a question mark on the board. “Are we assuming that we’re dealing with something from Otherworld?”
Ella nodded. “Both Morosov and I felt some residual magic clinging to Brad Dailey, so we assume that’s the case.”
She glanced at Vadim for confirmation, but he appeared to be lost in thought. She kicked his shin under the table and he jumped.
“Yes, after some discussion, Ms. Walsh and I came to the conclusion that magic was involved in some way. It would be easier if Mr. Dailey had left his face alone, so that we could’ve seen what he looked like.”
“You mean we’d know if he’d been surgically interfered with rather than bespelled?” Feehan asked, his pen poised over the whiteboard.
“It’s a faint possibility. Brad is a medical student, after all, so he and his friends have access to surgical equipment.”
“But unlikely.” Feehan noted Ella’s nod. “So we’re fairly sure this is Otherworld.”
“Yes.” She tried to catch Vadim’s eye, but he was sipping his coffee and reading through Liz’s report. Why was he so reluctant to agree that the perp was from his old stomping ground? “What is interesting is that none of the people who met Adam can describe him very well, so it’s not as if he switches his identity with his victims.”
Sam raised his hand. “It says here that last year, three people in the Bay Area were taken into medical care claiming to have lost their identities. All three of them committed suicide.”
“That’s terrible,” Ella said.
“Maybe it’s one of those legendary hunters from Otherworld—you know, like their dark-angel dude who brings justice and death to the wicked.”
“In Otherworld, Sam, not here.”
“But what if he was here?” Sam looked around, his eyes wide. “What if that bloodthirsty dude was in our world?”
“We have no way of knowing whether such a creature exists, or why he would murder innocent humans.” Vadim cut across what Ella had been about to say, his tone cold. “I suggest we at least try and ground this discussion in reality.”
“Sorry, Vad.” Sam closed his mouth and hunched down in his seat. “I just thought I’d throw it out there. Otherworld has the scariest shit around.”
“Then let’s do our best to make sure we keep Brad Dailey alive and able to answer our questions.” Feehan surveyed the team. “What can we do to find this man ‘Adam’?”
“I’m going to check local conference records and hotels and see if anyone called Adam did register and attend anything in the city this week.” Ella leaned back in her chair. “It’s highly likely he used a false name when he met Brad, but you never know. If he’s been successfully stealing faces for years, he might not be that careful.”
“Okay, what else can we do?”
“I can liaise with Liz and work on extracting more information from the Fae-Web.” Vadim appeared to have come out of his trance.
“That would be great.” Liz smiled at him. “We can also extend our search criteria to the rest of the U.S.A. and the world, and see if there are any other cases to consider.”
Feehan wrote busily on the board and then turned back. “Anything else? Do we need to contact anyone directly in Otherworld for help yet?”
Vadim shook his head. “It’s too early. We need to have some idea what we’re dealing with before we go charging in with our demands.”
“And what do you think we’re dealing with?”
“A killer with exceptional magical powers he can use in the human world as well as his own. That is quite rare.”
“That’s true,” Liz agreed. “A lot of Fae magical powers are weakened when transferred to this realm. Only certain families have the ability to function fully here.”
“Maybe Morosov can come up with a list of those families,” Ella said. “He probably knows the bloodlines better than anyone. It would at least narrow the field.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Feehan smiled at her hapless partner and then turned to Andrew. “Maybe you and Rich can check with the shape-shifting communities as to whether this Adam could come from them. It’s unlikely, I know, but stealing a face could be a facet of shifting we just haven’t come across before.”
Feehan rambled on for a minute and then started gathering up his papers. His idea to involve the shape-shifters was an excellent one. Maybe he was growing into his job after all. It was about time. The look Vadim shot her wasn’t entirely friendly. What the hell was chafing his ass? She’d promised to meet him later, and to have sex, so why wasn’t he smiling?
She waited until everyone exited the room and then put her hand on Vadim’s arm as he started to rise.
“Wait a sec.” He subsided back into his seat. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Under her hand his biceps flexed and hardened as if he was considering fleeing. “I’m just thinking about the case.”
“Morosov, as a woman, I already know that the answer ‘nothing’ means ‘everything.’ What are you worried about, and why are you so reluctant to get involved in this?”
“I am involved in it.” His smile was distant.
“Then why won’t you share your knowledge?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It never is, with you. What’s the problem?”
He turned to face her, his expression far too serious for her liking. “I suspect the man who calls himself Adam is involved with an ancient Otherworld sect.”
“A sect? Like a cult or something?”
“I suppose that is as good a word as any. They...collect trophies.”
“Like a serial killer.”
“Yes, but this is for their amusement. They make bets with each other to see who can collect something that is hard to find like, say, a mermaid’s tail or a unicorn’s horn.”
“Both of which don’t exist, right?”
“They did before the Otherworld sect started hunting them.” His smile was wry. “They don’t care about the consequences of their actions. It’s all about the hunt and the winning.”
“And you think Adam is involved with them?”
“The magic he left behind held a certain signature I recognized.” He met her gaze. “I’ve come across it before in Otherworld.”
“When you were doing what?”
“Fulfilling tasks for the queen.”
“Oh, damn. Why didn’t you share this with Feehan and the rest of the team?”
He looked away. “Because I’m worried that if I bring this up, Feehan will immediately go to Otherworld and make this all aboveboard and public. If he does that, he and the rest of us will probably be killed fairly swiftly. The membership of the sect holds considerable power.”
“Then why did you tell me?”
His eyebrows rose. “Because you’re my mate.”
Sometimes his honesty confounded her. Now she was the one to look away. “So, what can we do?”
“If we track down Adam and execute him ourselves, he will simply be out of the game. No one will care.”
“That makes sense, but what kind of game is he playing? And if we kill him, won’t someone else take his place?”
“The members don’t compete directly against each other. It’s more about how an individual chooses to interpret a challenge. His choice of prey, the way he kills and the way he displays his trophies count toward the eventual winner’s score.”
“That’s macabre.”
“That’s Otherworld.”
“So you’re saying that a challenge could be, to find an interesting use for a human, and our guy could’ve interpreted it to mean let’s steal their faces and make them into, I dunno, carn
ival masks?”
“Exactly.”
“Gross.” Ella shivered. “So how can we nail him?”
“The number three is a very powerful symbol to this sect. Did you notice Sam saying that there were three reports of similar deaths earlier in the year?”
“So you reckon Adam will be trying to add two more to his current collection?”
“I would assume that’s his goal.”
“But we still have no idea how to find him.”
He sat back. “We’ll find him. I know his scent now.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’m trained to hunt prey.” He smiled at her and his eyes glinted black. “I’m certain he’ll return, especially if he knows I’m seeking him.”
“Because we leave a trace of our magic at every scene, and if he goes back to check on Brad...”
“He’ll find a trace of me.”
“Will he want you?”
He rose to his feet. “Everyone wants me, Ms. Walsh.”
Ella made a rude noise and grabbed her backpack. “Then maybe we’d better head back to the hospital right away.”
* * *
San Francisco General was its usual chaotic self, but Vadim had learned to ignore it. Since hooking up with his mate, he was finding it harder to deal with his emotions and the impact of other human minds. He wasn’t surprised that most unsupported empaths went mad at the age of twenty-seven. His shields were constantly buckling under the pressure of the onslaught of feelings. Since joining minds with Ella, he’d come to respect her abilities quite considerably.
He was also glad she led the way through the maze of identical hallways to Brad’s ward without faltering. Delia, the nurse who’d offered him her services as a guide to the city, was sitting outside the door, looking rather important. Flanking her was an enormously tall guy wearing dark shades and a suit cut to fit a bulky shoulder holster. He scanned the hallways like a pro and immediately tensed as Vadim and Ella approached the door.
He held up his hand.
“This room is secured. Please step back and then state your business.”
Ella held up her badge. “We’re from the SBLE. We’re here to see Mr. Dailey.”
“I have no instructions to admit anyone except approved medical staff and Mr. Dailey’s immediate family.”
Before Ella could get up in the man’s face, Vadim stepped in front of her and smiled pleasantly. “I think you’ll find that you are mistaken and that both Ms. Walsh and I are on that list. Please feel free to confirm that information with Ms. Phelps, the administrator dealing with this case.”
“Morosov, get out of the way. I can get in his head. I can make him let us in.”
“That’s our next step. Let’s try and do it the official way first.”
Sometimes he agreed with her that it would be easier to blast his way through the obstacle, but since leaving Otherworld, he’d been attempting to cultivate more reasonable habits.
“Why?”
He smiled again at Delia. “Hi, how are you, today? How’s Brad doing?”
After a swift glance at the security agent who appeared to be whispering into his mike, Delia turned to Vadim.
“Brad’s grandfather is in there with him, but he’s still sedated and unable to respond to them.”
“Poor guy.” Vadim shook his head. “Perhaps we’d better not disturb him, then.” He turned to Ella, who wasn’t looking very pleased. “Shall we go and find Ms. Phelps and get her up to speed?”
“I’d rather see Brad.”
He took hold of her elbow and propelled her along the corridor. “We’ll do that in a moment. Do you particularly want to go in there and face his grandfather? We can’t answer a single damn question for them yet.” She went to speak, and he kept talking. “It’s not likely that Adam will get in there either, with Delia and that thug on the door.”
“I suppose you’re right. Maybe we should come back later.”
“Let’s do that. We can ask Ms. Phelps to call us when the ex-senator leaves.”
She grimaced. “Okay, but I just have a bad feeling about this.”
So did he, but he didn’t want her to know that. “How about we catch an early dinner at my hotel and return this evening?”
“I suppose that would work. Look, there’s Ms. Phelps.” She walked over to the nurse’s station. “Hey, we just got barred from Brad Dailey’s room by some secret-service guy.”
“You did?” Ms. Phelps took them back into her office and shut the door. She patted ineffectively at her blond bun. “I’m not surprised. That man was demanding I show him full security checks for every single member of staff and patient on this ward! If the ex-senator wants his grandson to have more privacy, he’ll have to pay for a private room on a secure corridor.” She lowered her voice a fraction. “It’s not as if Brad is a VIP.”
“How long is he staying?”
“The former senator is leaving in about two hours. He’ll hopefully be taking his security detail with him. Brad’s parents are due in tonight at around eleven. They are flying in from Florida. They were on their yacht.”
“Nice.” Ella said. “So will you call us just before the senator leaves? We need to talk to Brad.”
“He hasn’t been very responsive today at all.” Ms. Phelps shook her head. “His doctor fears he might be going into a coma of some kind, his body signs are so minimal.”
“Well, thanks for the heads-up. We’ll do our best to get him to talk to us, but we’ll understand if he can’t.”
Vadim held the door open for Ella and then followed her toward the stairs and the elevator bank. She looked back at him over her shoulder.
“How much time do we have?”
“To get something to eat and get back here? Just under two hours.”
She groaned. “At this time of day it’s going to take us that long to get to your hotel in the commuter traffic.”
“Not if we don’t use the car.”
“I keep forgetting about that.” Her smile made his body come to life. “Can you take us right into your room?”
He could.
As soon as they materialized, he wrapped his arms around her and backed her up against the nearest wall, his tongue in her mouth, his hands roaming her jeans-covered ass.
“Morosov, what about my dinner?” She slid a hand around his neck. “I’m starving.”
There were so many filthy things he could say to that. “Sex first, dinner after.” He lifted her until her thighs hugged his hips and his cock ground against the seam of her jeans.
“But what about our talk?”
He scowled down at her far-too-innocent face. “After.”
She rolled her hips against his hardness and he fought a groan. Why did she always wear so many clothes? He had her naked in a second and stretched out beneath him on the bed, her legs spread wide by his. With a sigh he bent over her breasts and licked one hard nipple into his mouth. She started to squirm and he increased the pressure, sliding his fingers over her swollen clit and into her welcoming warmth.
She climaxed almost immediately, and he added another finger, transferring his attention to her other breast. His cock beat an urgent pulse along with his heart, wanting to be in her, to be joined to her in every way possible.
“Morosov...”
Why did she insist on talking when he was busy savoring the delights of her skin and scent and texture?
“Morosov, let me up!”
He raised his head to look at her. “What?”
She blinked at him. “I want something to do.”
“Then touch me.”
“I can’t reach the bit I particularly want to touch.” She pushed on his chest, and he reluctantly allowed her to sit up. She immediately turned around until her mouth was a tantalizing inch from his cock, put out her tongue and licked a drop of clear liquid off the crown.
“Mmm, nice.” Ella murmured.
He rolled onto his side, and her lips slid over his cock and took him deep.
With a groan he returned his attention to her clit, using his tongue and mouth and fingers to bring her to another climax. Even while she still shuddered, he eased his shaft from her mouth and, reversing their positions, pushed her onto her back, spreading her knees wide with his.
She grinned up at him, her cheeks flushed, her blond hair escaping her haphazard braids. Something inside him tightened. She infuriated him, but he needed her as he needed oxygen. Something about her made him feel alive for the first time in years, made him want to protect her with every magical power he had inside him, good and bad. She was his mate. If it came to it, he would gladly die for her.
Words pressed on his lips. He wanted to slash his chest with his nails and bleed for her, have her lick his blood, give her everything...
“Morosov.”
He opened his eyes and looked down at her again.
“Get on with it! I’m done waiting.”
Without another word, he plunged deep inside her and felt complete, their minds in harmony, their bodies even more so. Every time they made love, the bond between them strengthened. Did she feel that? And if she did, would she ever acknowledge it to his face? This was when he knew her completely, and where he felt safe. He thrust deeply. Her hands tightened on his shoulders, leaving her mark, as he wanted to mark her.
But there was still some part of her that held back, that resisted him... Sometimes he wanted to take her to the edge and force her over the abyss into knowing him and the depths of his personal hell. She was right to be wary. He could destroy her with one breath. He yelped as she tugged at his hair.
“Pay attention! Stop thinking and just...”
“Fuck you?” He increased his tempo, driving shorter and harder. Her feet crept up to his hips and he worked her even higher, her knees over his elbows as she started to come and come and...with a muffled howl he joined her, spilling himself deep inside her.
When she pushed at his chest, he obligingly rolled off her and subsided onto the covers with a groan.
“Morosov.”
“My name is Vadim. Can’t you even call me that when we’re naked?”