Blood Lily (Lilith Adams Vampire Series Book 1)

by Jenny Allen

  She grabbed a notebook from Miriah’s office and a couple pens before taking a seat at the dining room table. She needed to focus and write things out. The timeline had so many different factors that she couldn’t keep it all straight in her head. Lilith was halfway through mapping out the timeline when Chance finally emerged with his cup of coffee. She watched him out of the corner of her eye and jotted down a few more notes.

  He walked right up to her, grabbed the pen from her hand and set it on the table. She frowned at the discarded pen and went to grab it, but he gripped her wrist first and lightly tugged her up from the chair. He held her hand against his chest and stared down at her with a softness that made her cheeks burn.

  “Thank you for breakfast.” A smile crossed his tender lips that tugged one out of her even when she’d rather slap him than smile. Dammit. How the hell was she supposed to stay mad at him when he looked at her like that? The cheating bastard. “Let me first say that green is an amazing color on you.” Her cheeks definitely burned a bright red at that. Definitely cheating. “Breakfast was delicious and the sentiment means a lot to me. I’ve never had a woman bring me breakfast in bed.”

  “Oh so it’s usually the men, huh?” Humor was her self-defense, even if her voice shook and lacked it’s usually confident tone. She wasn’t used to all this and when in doubt, you revert back to what’s familiar.

  Chance let out a warm chuckle that made her tingle. “Yeah. And somehow I’m the smartass.” His hand caressed up her neck to cradle her cheek and it felt like the world tilted. “Please, promise me.” His lips hovered over hers, just a breath away and it made her heart race in her chest. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. So please, promise me you won’t do something like that again.”

  Her breath came in steady pants, the tension to fill the space between them pulling at every muscle. Her brain took a while to recognize what he’d said. “Evil man.” Her whisper was breathy and secret. “This is extortion.”

  He smiled then and pulled her closer. “Only if it works.” His eyebrow arched in pure confidence. “Promise?”

  “Yes, yes. I promise.”

  “Good.” He leaned up and pressed a tiny kiss to the tip of her nose before walking right past her to the table. He took a seat with a brilliant grin. His arm draped across the back of the chair with such a casual, nonchalant air that she couldn’t figure out if she still wanted to kiss him or just slap the smug look off his face. “So what are we discussing?” His eyelashes batted innocently and she couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You are such an ass!” She stomped over to her chair and slumped down.

  “Oh don’t get those lovely lavender panties in a twist, kitten. Business now, pleasure later.” He winked and she knew her candy apple red face was pure embarrassment. “I won’t tell. Scout’s honor.” He held up two fingers in the Scout’s salute and she held up just one, the middle one of course.

  Lilith grabbed her pen and forced herself to concentrate on the paper in front of her. It took a few minutes for her hands to stop quivering. “Business. I’m trying to nail down this time line. I talked to Ida on the way up the stairs and she had some interesting things to say.”

  “By all means, share with the class.” Chance leaned forward on his elbows, sipping at his coffee and devouring a large croissant.

  “Okay so she saw Miriah and Malachi in a hurry on Monday night. Sometime Tuesday Spencer called Gregor. Tuesday night we left New York City and about 8 hours later Malachi was found at that Italian restaurant. It’s about a two to five hour flight from Knoxville to New York City, depending on connections.”

  “Did Ida mention any suitcases?”

  Lilith shook her head, staring at the paper. “Just that they were in a hurry. So wherever they went, at least Malachi had to come back to the apartment for travel supplies. Wait, Spencer said Malachi was gone on a trip and didn’t know where. Did he ever say when he left on the trip?”

  Chance mulled that over for a moment, turning the coffee cup in his hands. “No I don’t think he ever said.”

  Lilith frowned deeper at her paper. “If Malachi was still here on Monday night, he had to know that Duncan was missing. It was before Spencer called Gregor, but he would still know that Duncan needed to be found. Why would he pick up and leave his wife in the middle of all that to fly to New York City?”

  “Now that is a very good question.”

  Lilith jotted it down on her notebook. “Moving on with the timeline. We landed in Knoxville Wednesday morning. Now according to Spencer, he hasn’t been here to the apartment in weeks and he was chasing down that lead while Miriah was supposed to pick us up at the airport. Ida told me she saw Spencer Wednesday morning carrying a suitcase into the apartment. Another thing that doesn’t add up is the comment Spencer made back at the Madisonville house. Something about it bothered me but I couldn’t put my finger on it till now. He said he was on the phone and chasing down leads all morning, but we kept trying to call all day Wednesday and all Thursday morning and his phone always went to voicemail.”

  “Well maybe it sent us to voicemail because he was on the other line?” Chance was frowning now, and even his voice sounded less confident.

  “Then why did he tell you that he forgot to turn it back on? Speaking of which, you should try to call him. If we have the time, I really want to see if there’s someone at the lab during the day. I left a piece of evidence in there that I think I need to take a good look at.” Lilith sighed and slumped forward over the table. “Dammit, Spencer is family and I hate this, but it doesn’t add up. He knows something he’s not telling.” A thought popped into her head. “Suitcase!”

  Chance was staring at her like she’d lost her mind as she leapt from her chair and tore down the hallway into the bedroom. There’d been a suitcase sitting on the floor of the closet when she first checked it. She swung the closet door open and sure enough, the squat black suitcase was still there.

  Lilith pulled it out and opened every single zipper, which was a grand total of 12, but they were all empty. The excitement flooded out of her with a disappointed sigh. Something white on the handle caught her eye. She pulled the suitcase around and pulled at a fresh luggage tag. Depart TYS Arrive LGA. She couldn’t make out the date through all the scuff marks. Her mind whirled in confusion. What the hell? Whoever this suitcase belonged to flew from Knoxville to New York and they didn’t fly back. Airlines remove all the old tags before tagging your bag for a flight. It cuts down on the confusion as well as the amount of lost luggage. So how the hell did the suitcase get here?

  Chance leaned in the door. “Hey, what the hell was that all about?” Lilith explained about the suitcase and luggage tag while his face fell into confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

  “I know. I feel like I’m trying to put together a puzzle that someone’s stolen half the pieces to. Nothing seems to fit.” She leaned her head back against the bed, closing her eyes and thinking through everything. “Did you ever get an address to that warehouse in Nashville Spencer was checking out?”

  “Yeah, he wrote it down for me. I just tried to call him again. Straight to voicemail.” Chance watched her carefully, like he was still deciding how to say something. “Do you think Spencer might be involved?”

  Lilith opened her eyes and turned to look at him without taking her head off the bed. “He knows something. He’s definitely not precise enough to be responsible, but he knows something he’s not telling. The pain in his face, the anger, he definitely loves his family and hates what has happened.” She sighed again and looked at some random spot on the ground. “Maybe he did something, unintentionally that started all this and doesn’t want to admit it. I just don’t know. All I do know is there was real pain in his face and he was definitely shocked when I called about Miriah.”

  Chance nodded and the relief was obvious on his face. He didn’t like having to ask that question, but they both knew it was one that needed to be asked. Lilith tore the luggage tag
off the suitcase and stuffed it in her pocket. When Chance looked at her with a confused look, she shrugged. “It might raise some awkward questions with the police. “

  She stowed the suitcase back in the closet and grabbed her list from the dining room. She jotted down a note about the luggage tag and stuffed it back in her pocket. “Let’s go check the lab. Maybe they have some news about the tests I requested. Plus, I still want to try and figure out that piece of paper from Miriah’s pocket.”

  “Speaking of paper, what about the one in the tin?” Chance grabbed his shoes, which were a cross between sneakers and hiking boots, and perched on the arm of the couch to pull them on.

  “I stashed the tin at the lab, so I can check that out while I’m there.” Lilith slipped into her strappy tan heels and Chance just made a face at her. “What?”

  “That’s practical footwear.”

  “Well, gee, I wasn’t planning on running from pure evil today. We’re just going to the lab.”

  His eyebrows lifted and a smile crossed his lips. “You don’t exactly sit down with evil and discuss dates and times for meeting up. But hey,” He shrugged and finished lacing his shoe. “It’s your feet, cher.”

  Lilith rolled her eyes and grabbed the door knob. Before she could pull the door open, someone knocked sharply from the other side. The ferocity of the knock pretty much ruled out Ida. She exchanged a worried look with Chance and slowly opened the door.

  The man standing at the door was about her height, stuffed into a cheap suit and a tie, complete with coffee stains. He looked to be about mid-forties with a thick, graying moustache. His dark eyes hid behind deep frown lines that were currently creased into a vaguely confused look. He checked something on a flip notebook and looked back up at her. The frown lines took their natural course and it wasn’t a comforting look.

  “I’m looking for Malachi Sanders.”

  It had to be the cops. She was hoping they’d have a little more time, but she knew it was coming eventually. “Malachi is in New York right now.” Technically, not lying. “I’m Miriah’s cousin, Lilith Adams. Perhaps I can be of help?” She kept her face pleasantly neutral, it didn’t seem to help.

  The man’s gruff southern drawl coupled with his very unfriendly face definitely pegged him as the bad cop of a duo. So where was his partner? “Perhaps.” A younger man jogged up the stairs, taller, thinner and definitely a better suit. His eyes were big and a friendly warm brown color that stood out against his sandy blonde, short-clipped hair. He stopped next to the bad cop, obviously claiming his role as good cop.

  “Sorry.” The younger man panted and bent to catch his breath. “Ida can chat your ear clean off.”

  “You know her?” Lilith frowned at him. “While I’m asking questions, who are you?”

  The younger one was almost handsome. His eyes were definitely a draw with thick lashes and his face was all smooth nice lines. His only flaw was a classic trait in the south, a weak chin. He slapped his partner’s arm, interrupting the gruff old man and extended his hand to Lilith. There was definitely a charming genuineness to him that automatically made people want to trust him.

  “Excuse my partner’s manners. I’m Detective Cohen and this is Detective Whitmore. And you are?” Yep, this was definitely the good cop, and in her experience, they were the truly dangerous ones. Luckily she knew how to play the game too.

  “Lilith Adams. I’m Miriah Sanders’s cousin. Detective Whitmore was just about to tell me why you Gentlemen are looking for Malachi.” She kept her voice polite and neutral.

  “Absolutely, Ms. Adams, or is it Mrs.? May we come in?” The charming smile wasn’t completely work related she noticed. Well, it could have just been part of his ploy as a good cop, flirt with the prospective enemy, but somehow she doubted the flirting was completely devoid of personal interest.

  “It’s Ms., and of course.” She swung the door open and walked into the open dining room. “I would offer you some coffee, but apparently Miriah doesn’t believe in keeping groceries in the house. Would you like some water?”

  Detective Whitmore just grunted a no and stood awkwardly near the table. Detective Cohen graciously requested a glass of water and pulled out a chair to take a seat. There was an easy grace to his movements, a stark contrast to his awkward partner. Lilith placed a tall glass of ice water in front of the young Detective and slid into a chair across from them.

  Chance chose that moment to stroll barefoot and casual out of the bed room. “Who was that at the door, Cherie?” He paused just before the dining room and stretched with a massive yawn, fully displaying his six foot three stature. It may have been meant to intimidate the two cops, but it made her pulse quicken. He blinked and frowned at the two men staring at him from the table. Neither one of them had a friendly expression on their face.

  “Oh sorry, I didn’t realize we had company.” He offered a polite smile to the men and looked over at her inquisitively.

  “Detectives Cohen and Whitmore. Detectives, this is Chance Deveraux…” Chance gave her a significant look and she finally continued. “My fiancée.” He’d started the charade with Ida and now they’d look suspicious if that little tidbit was left out. Chance turned his smug smile on the Detectives as she forced the words out. Cohen glanced from Chance to her and there was a millisecond of disappointment on his face.

  Chance slipped behind her, bent to press a kiss to her cheek and whispered. “You know you love it.” He settled his hands on her shoulders, an obviously protective stance, and looked at the officers. His gaze settled on Whitmore, whose scrunched and sour face glared at him. His big moustache moved as his lips tightened under Chance’s stare. Leave it to Chance to single out the least friendly of the two and have a damn staring contest. She lightly jabbed her elbow into his stomach, just enough to let him know his macho crap wasn’t appreciated. Chance recovered quickly. "So, uh, what can we do for you Detectives?”

  Cohen flashed a brief half smile, trying to regain his role as good cop. His fingers played with the condensation forming on the outside of his water glass before he focused on Chance. “Your fiancée here was just informing us that Malachi is in New York City? Do you know when he left?”

  “I believe he left Monday night or Tuesday morning.” Lilith decided that the more truth the better. If they could use enough harmlessly confirmable facts, the little white lies would fade into the background.

  Detective Whitmore finally spoke up and nothing about him was friendly, but then that’s how the game is played. It’s an old routine but, oddly enough, very effective. One scares you into being the other’s friend. “You folks came to visit?” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement of disbelief. Every line of his weight-padded body was rigid and defensive. He crossed his arms over his chest, taking it a step beyond the simple bad cop routine. Great. All they needed was a hostile cop.

  “Yes, we took a flight Tuesday night and arrived Wednesday morning.” Lilith could see the whole line of questions in her head. She’d interrogated enough people herself. Hopefully, she could head off any damaging questions that Detective Whitmore could think of.

  “And where are ya’ll from?” Cohen flashed a bright smile and he looked like he was simply chatting with new friends, eager to know more about them. Oh he was good at this.

  Lilith smiled softly and turned away from Whitmore, leaving Chance to square off with him. There was no rule saying that they couldn’t play good cop, bad cop too. Well except for the fact that neither of them were technically cops. A forensics investigator and a body guard were close enough. “We both work in Manhattan. Have you ever been?” Her smile was enigmatic.

  A slight blush crept over the young Detective’s face and he looked down at his notebook, making a few notes. “Uh, no. I hear it’s an amazing place though.” He regained his composure and lifted his head with a curious smile. “What is it that you do, Ms. Adams?” There was the spark of personal interest again. If she could keep him actually interested, perhaps she could keep
ahead of his sly and suave routine.

  “I’m an independent forensics examiner. I work closely with the New York City Major Crimes Division.” She loved the shocked expressions that rocked both of the Detectives. “I’m assigned to most of the weird cases.” All of that was completely true and easily confirmed.

  “That’s a tough career path.” Cohen leaned back in his chair, really looking at her, like he’d completely misjudged her. It was a look of appreciation…and interest, and also one she was very familiar with. Despite the popular TV crime dramas, most people didn’t look at a fit, beautiful woman who took care of her appearance and expect to hear that she worked with dead bodies, especially on Major Crimes Division. Typically that meant serial killers, severe murders, mass murders, not just your typical mugging or cardiac arrest.

  “It takes a strong stomach sometimes, that’s true enough, but it’s really more about logic. Most of my cases tend to be rather mild compared to most though.” She was being modest, of course, but letting them know that she was okay with tortured bodies wasn’t really a good move, especially not with Whitmore’s shocked look.

  In fact, Whitmore was still trying to recover. He probably wasn’t used to seeing a young woman dealing with such a grizzly career path. He exchanged a long look with Cohen before they continued. Whitmore stared holes through Chance and she felt his hand tighten just a touch on her shoulder. “And you?” It was more of a grunt than actual words.

  “I work security for Lilith’s father, Gregor Adams.” There was almost a threat in Chance’s tone and more than the usual amount of Cajun accent.

  “Where are you from, boy?” Whitmore’s chubby face was pinched in a painfully menacing way.

  “Louisiana, born and raised. Moved to Manhattan when I was about 17.” Chance was casually standing beside her, but his voice was tight. She recognized his tone from the plane. He was irritated and if she didn’t diffuse the situation, he’d do something stupid.