“Harder,” she begged.
Her body convulsed with a powerful orgasm of seemingly endless waves. She gave of herself and took from him simultaneously as they climaxed. A delightful rush emanated from within her and spread wildly as every neuron fired and the world went stark white. Raven couldn’t tell who cried out louder. Bo grabbed the back of her head as he thrust his teeth deeper into her neck, sucking the blood that tasted like wine, causing them both to climax once more as his body shuddered with his release.
“Be mine, Raven. Always. I want you…”
“I want you, too.”
She kept him hard and toyed with him mercilessly until he begged to spill his seed within her once more. Their lovemaking lasted for hours as they reached the point of climax then slowed the pace. Raven understood when he’d reached the point of no return and, in the ultimate synchronicity, they found release, together—over and over—until the dawn came.
Chapter Two
An incessant ringing in Raven’s ears caused her to lash out at the alarm clock.
“Phone…” Bo murmured, turning over in bed.
“Yeah…” she mumbled into the receiver.
“We need you here, Doc.” Bianca’s voice cheerily echoed through the phone.
Raven squinted, trying to see the alarm clock. It was noon.
“Shit! Give me thirty minutes.”
Reluctantly, Raven rose from the warmth of the bed. Bo reached for her, but missed as she headed for the bathroom.
He called sleepily out to her, “You want me to make some coffee?”
“Go back to sleep, Boo,” she yelled from the shower.
He answered with a loud snore.
Raven showered quickly, thinking back on the night’s long love making session. She wished Bo was in the shower with her. She felt the hunger returning. Her nipples pebbled as she ran the loofa across her breasts.
Stop. You have to get to work.
The coroner’s office at Seacrest Hospital was less than fifteen minutes from Raven’s home, making it possible for her to arrive precisely thirty minutes from the time of Bianca’s phone call. The offices bustled with activity on the main floor. Raven thanked her lucky stars every day that her office occupied a corner of the building on the street level.
She had windows. In spite of what she was she loved the day almost as much as she did the night.
Seacrest specialized in diseases that affected the magickal natives on the island. Mirabelle Hospital catered to the mortals.
Seacrest had started as a small clinic many years ago, run by the healers on the island. Since then, generous benefactors had added onto the original building, creating an eight-storey, up-to-date facility.
“Good morning, Doc,” Bianca said, handing her a large mug of coffee scented with cinnamon.
Smoothing her navy skirt, Raven reached for the brew. “Morning. Thank you, Bianca. You know, you make the best coffee.” She took a hungry gulp, still trying to wipe the cobwebs from her mind.
Bianca glowed. “It’s my secret ingredient.”
Raven held onto the arms of her chair and eased into the seat.
“What is it?” she asked. She placed her mug on top of her desk and took a few moments to compose herself. She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a compact mirror, hoping to finish her hurried application of make-up. She applied a soft amount of blush to her cheeks, just enough to give her a little sprinkle of color. Not that the corpses minded.
Bianca chuckled. “If I tell you that, boss, you’ll have no need of me.”
Finished, she replaced the compact in her drawer. “Never. You’re my right-hand goddess.” Raven sighed. “Okay, where’s the body?” she asked, sipping from the oversized mug.
“Room one.”
“Who brought the body in?” Raven rose and headed for the exam room. On the way, she stopped to readjust the strap on the low-heeled pumps she’d grabbed on her way out the door. They pinched her feet. Just another annoyance that seemed to be building up to something. What? She wasn’t sure.
“Davis brought it in,” Bianca said, lagging behind her. “He did an abbreviated preliminary.”
Raven grabbed her lab coat and headed into the cold autopsy room. “Do we have an I.D. on the body?” She never heard the answer. The light shone directly on the familiar, handsome face. She knew who it was.
His eyes, glazed over in death, were still blue.
Adonis!
Raven tensed. “Bianca!”
Bianca stood right behind her, peering over her shoulder. Desperately, Raven tried to hide her shock, but Bianca knew her too well.
“You all right? Do you know him?” Bianca’s eyes were wide with wonder.
“Yes. Please get Tracy to do the blood workup—ASAP. Thank you.” Raven quickly surveyed the body. No outward trauma that she could see. He was dressed in the same blue jeans, shirt and sweater as when she’d seen him last night. Lying there, he looked so peaceful.
“I just spoke to Tracy. She’s on her way here from the hospital,” Bianca answered.
“Did Davis take the x-rays already?” she asked impatiently while staring at the man she’d kissed less than twenty-four hours ago. “Did anyone check for trace evidence?” Raven’s heightened senses kicked up to overdrive. All she could think about was how young Adonis was and what a waste. He had so much to live for, so much promise.
“Yes. The films are on the desk. And no, I don’t think Davis went over him for trace yet. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Raven spun around and caught the look of concern in Bianca’s soft brown eyes. “Yes—yes, of course. Why hasn’t the body been cleaned? What’s Davis doing?” She fought to concentrate.
“He’s in radiology. He took a few more films. Davis just brought the body in. He thought you’d like to take a look at the corpse first, before he did the full prelim. He said he’d be right back with the other films.”
Raven walked over to check the equipment she would need for the autopsy. The dissecting scissors, forceps, scalpel blades, bone shears and saws all seemed in order and sterilized.
“The body is Derrick. His name is—was—Derrick. I don’t know his last name,” Raven stammered. Damn. When did this happen and who could have done this to him? And why?
Finally, Bianca kept still.
Raven walked over to get the films and flipped on the light box hanging by the metal table that acted as a makeshift desk. Looking from one x-ray to the next, she already knew there would be no internal trauma. Her preternatural vision showed her that. Raven’s sixth sense informed her he’d lost some amount of blood.
But how?
Her mind raced as she fired off more questions for her assistant. “Who from the sheriff’s office has this case? Bianca? When was he brought in?”
Bianca tripped as she tried to stay out of Raven’s way. “I’m sorry, boss, Joe Menendez. H-how do you know this guy?”
Raven was rattled. The room seemed to close in on her as thoughts of what might have happened snuck into her mind. Maybe if I’d brought him home with me, he would still be alive. Then Bo’s face appeared in her mind, and she knew the evening progressed just as it should have, how it was meant to have been.
Yet no puncture marks were visible. So how did he lose blood?
“I met him at Blood Pool last night,” she said. “You said Joe Menendez is working this case?”
Bianca’s face flushed at the mention of Detective Menendez. Raven knew she harbored an enormous crush on the cop. “That’s where Joe said they found the body. Solaris found him behind the bar.”
Joe Menendez was a good detective, but a human. His family tree boasted a bruja here and there, a fact he tried to deny. He and Bo often worked cases together. Raven wondered why Bo wasn’t on this case…unless…he was, and that was why he’d been so late last night.
The arrival of Tracy Polchek, forensic pathologist, jolted Raven back to the present. Tracy was a fifty-two-year-old fount of knowledge. Raven trusted her imp
licitly, enough so that Tracy occasionally supplied Raven with healthy blood when the blood bank was short on supplies. Raven didn’t require it often, but when she did, Tracy always came through with a pint or two.
“What have we got here?” Tracy asked, hands on hips. Her eyeglasses hung from a crystal-beaded chain that clinked against yards of colored necklaces. She wore a long broomstick skirt and a worn out pair of Birkenstocks. Tracy’s quintessential hippy-chick attire disguised the brilliant woman lurking beneath.
Raven took the chart from Bianca. “Male, approximately twenty-eight years old, six-feet-one-inch tall…” Raven checked the paperwork. Not much was filled in. “One hundred sixty-one pounds. I’ll need a full tox screen, Trace.
“Bianca, get Davis in here to do the prelim, please,” Raven continued as she walked out of the autopsy room and headed toward her private office. “Bag his clothes,” she called over her shoulder.
She opened the door and stepped into her small office. Diplomas lined the peach-shaded walls of the room. She’d graduated from Harvard Medical School, board certified in anatomic, forensic and clinical pathology—the perfect career choice for one so intimately and intrinsically linked with death. Wooden shelves also adorned the walls of her office. She stared at the plethora of dioramas on the shelves: crime scenes with blood-splattered walls and miniature dolls lying in pools of dried blood, albeit fake blood. At that particular time, Raven thought it would help the trainees to learn about the different types of death scenarios, to foster their ability to analyze a crime scene. It had worked.
Buttery rich leather met her sore bottom as she thought back to Bo’s relentlessness in bed the night before. The memories warmed her inside. Raven craved him more than blood, but she could not—would not—reveal too much of her heart’s desires. Not yet.
Sitting at her desk, she refocused on the situation evolving in the autopsy room. She tried to recall exactly what Adonis had said to her the night before. Raven came away with the impression that his interest had more to do with her being a Lamai rather than her potential as a sexual partner. He’d said he knew “who she was” and that he “needed to”…what? To tell her something, ask a question, kill her?
Perhaps Solaris had some useful information about the stranger in the exam room. A knock on the door signaled that they were ready for Raven. She gulped down the rest of her coffee and headed back to room one.
Three blank faces stared at her as she entered the icy room. Wide eyes and stunned expressions locked onto her. A single light shone down on the table.
It was empty.
Raven whirled around. “Who took the body?” she asked. No one answered. Everyone just kept staring. “Bianca, please tell me, where is the body?”
Bianca shook her head and shrugged, her face as pale as her lab coat.
Raven began to pace. “Davis?” She walked over to the now empty table. “It didn’t get up and walk away, did it?”
He looked over at Raven. “I-I came to do the preliminary report for you, b-but when I got here, it—he—was…gone,” the young man stuttered.
“Gone? What do you mean gone?”
“I just came in to draw blood, and Davis was freaking out,” Tracy whispered, turning toward Raven, nervously fingering her pixie-styled hair. The silver bracelets that adorned her arm clanked as she placed her hands back on her hips.
“Shit!” Raven spun on her heel and marched toward her office.
Davis ran after her. “Raven…Doctor Strigoi?” he called to her. “Should I call security?”
Jamming her hand through her hair, she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. “Good idea,” she snapped, slamming the door and grabbing the phone. She punched in Bo’s cell number, hoping he was awake by now.
Her fingers tapped the top of her desk.
“Hullo?” Bo answered.
She heard the sleep still holding him. Immediately, tension seeped out of her. “Can you come down to my office? Something’s up.”
Bo was naked, just out of the shower and trying to wake up. She knew it. They had that kind of connection. She silently wished she was there instead of smack in the middle of this disaster.
“I was going to head over as soon as I got dressed.” His voice oozed sexuality, even when his thoughts were light years from mating.
Or perhaps he only has that effect on me, she thought.
Bo cleared his throat. “What’s wrong?”
Silence. “Plenty.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can,” he reassured her.
“Great, thanks.” She let out a long sigh, pushing her hair behind her ears. She thought back to the words of love he’d whispered in that ear.
“Hey?” His voice soothed her frazzled nerves.
“Yeah, Boo?”
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered. “I wish you were still here with me.”
Raven smiled. “Me, too.”
Bianca came rushing into the office as Raven hung up the phone, practically knocking her over, her chestnut curls bouncing in every direction.
“The body is gone. It’s not here—not anywhere. The security team is still looking, but an immediate search shows nothing. What—how can that be?” Her voice lowered. “Do you think? Was he a…?”
“Lamai? No, definitely not—at least not when I was talking to him. He was human. Bo will be here soon. We’ll put our heads together and try to figure this out.” Sitting behind her desk, Raven handed Bianca her empty mug. “Could you, please? High test.” This day was turning out to be a living nightmare, complete with zombies. I should have stayed in bed.
“Of course,” Bianca answered. She filled Raven’s mug.
“How are Davis and Tracy?”
Bianca walked over to the coffee maker. “As you’d expect, Tracy is taking it in stride, but Davis…” Bianca poured fresh coffee into a cup from Raven’s personal machine and took a sip.
Raven nervously cracked her knuckles. “Gary Davis came highly recommended from St. Vincent’s in New York City. He’s fairly new to the area, right? That’s about all I know. What do you think? Is he up on the lore of the island?”
“He appears to know quite a bit. He was asking me the other day whether I knew there were sirens off the coast—and about how, two hundred years ago, the Nereids came and settled here, and then the fae. I don’t think he’s gotten to the meat of the history, though,” Bianca said, peering through the blinds. Raven came up behind her and gazed at the splashes of orange and crimson dotting the trees outside. “He definitely doesn’t know about the Lykans. Hell, I don’t know much about them. Do you?”
Raven smirked. “You taught me about the Lykans. My father avoided the subject of werewolves. Why do you think Gary doesn’t know about the other demons?”
“I don’t know. He just seems to be romanticizing the whole thing: beautiful sea creatures languishing on the rocks, brushing their hair and aiding the local fishermen. He hasn’t talked about the Empusas or Keris demons, either.”
Raven understood. “Hmm—the flip side. There are no love stories there. The Empusas are hideous in every sense of the word and, as luck would have it, Hekate has a soft side for them.”
Bianca rested her hip on the corner of Raven’s desk. “The Empusas have done her bidding for many centuries, but they stay away for the most part. Busy fighting with the gorgeous Keris, I suppose. Lucky for us, the patron goddess of the island has found the middle ground.”
“Has Davis claimed to see any of the sirens?” Raven asked.
“No. Not that he’s mentioned, and I’m fairly certain he would say something.”
Bianca and Raven simultaneously noticed the red blinking light on her phone. Bianca reached for it first.
“Dr. Strigoi’s office,” she answered in a professional tone. “Yes, sir…” She mouthed Mayor Dubois.
Raven winked and held out her hand, taking the phone call. “Hello, Frank, how’ve you been?”
“Raven, sweetheart. I’m good. How’s
my favorite M.E.?”
“Chief M.E., remember? I’ve been better, but I guess you already know that. You heard?” Her head began to pound. This day was not off to a good start. Bianca left, closing the door behind her.
“What’s this I hear about a missing body? Is he Lamai?” Frank Dubois was Raven’s mentor, the only decent father figure she had in her life. Originally from New Orleans, Frank had close ties to the bokurs, houngans and manbos of the south. Exactly how close, Raven wasn’t sure. In spite of these connections—or maybe because of them—he and the Seacrest PD kept the island peaceful and fairly demon-free.
“Bo’s on his way, and we’re going to attempt to figure this out. Frank, I-I met the victim last night. He was alive and well when we parted ways. He did say he had something he wanted to talk to me about, but we were never able to continue the conversation.” Raven scribbled on a notepad as she recited the story of her meeting with Derrick to the mayor. Question marks filled the top half of the paper.
“Interesting. What exactly did he say?”
“Nothing, really, just that he wanted to—or rather, needed to—talk to me, and that he knew what I was. I didn’t get a chance to examine his body, obviously, but I noticed he was missing a bit of blood. Not much, and anyone else wouldn’t have noticed.”
The silence on the opposite end of the phone had her perplexed. Frank was rarely at a loss for words. “Raven, when Bo gets there, I need you two to meet me at my office.”
At that moment, Bo walked in.
“We’ll be on our way.”
Raven filled Bo in on the latest happenings at the O.C.M.E. as they headed out to his car, a sleek 1969 Ford Mustang, black and in mint condition. It had literally been owned and driven by a little old man who used it to get to the post office and the grocery store. The old man’s grandson had it in his garage for approximately twenty years and, after his grandfather passed in 1988, he sold it. Both men maintained it meticulously. Oh, and of course, it was a convertible. Bo loved his car.
Finally able to appreciate the colors of the season, Raven took in as much of the sights and smells surrounding them as she could with the top down while they drove to Town Hall. The scent of burning leaves filled the air as the sun beat down on them. A gentle breeze ran through their hair.
Blood Pool Page 3