Immediately I “saw” the life that’d been attached to the pen. My vision wasn’t like a movie where I could see every nuance of every second, but just before death, a human would experience a cognitive impression so intense that they’d often imprint it onto whatever was nearest them, in that case, the pen.
“A man, late thirties to early forties sitting at his desk.”
A golden placard sat at the front of that shiny desk with a name written on it.
“Mr. Pendelton.” I nodded and looked up at the image. “Steel-blue suit. He wears a tie. Probably a banker or some job like that.”
A shadow crossed my periphery, then Mr. Pendelton looked up.
“Mr. Romero, what in the hell are you doing—”
Then a man dressed in janitor clothing with dark hair and light-brown eyes ran to him, holding a knife, and in one smooth move spun behind Mr. Pendelton and...
“Mr. Romero, the janitor, slit his throat with a butcher’s knife.”
The image immediately faded, and I blinked back to the present reality and looked up at a stunned face.
“It took our best detectives almost five years to solve a crime you just did in less than a minute.”
Tossing him the pen, I shrugged. If that didn’t change his mind, then nothing would.
Slipping the pen into his pocket, he backpedaled to his seat and sat down heavily, rubbing his square jaw with manicured fingers.
“You can’t tell no one what I did. You hear me?”
He jerked as though startled to hear my words. “Yes, but we’ll need those skills, Scarlett.”
I almost came off my seat with joy to hear him say that. They were gonna take me on. They wanted me. They really wanted me, which meant I had leverage.
“Only my partner can know. I’ll lead her to wherever she needs to go to make the records officially hers, but I can’t have just anyone knowing what I can do. It would make it too easy for his line to find me.”
He nodded. “His as in—”
“My killer.”
Grunting, he shifted on his seat. “You have my word. You do as you just showed me, Scarlett, and you have my word I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”
“My partner has to be discreet, Dr. Elijah Monroe.”
His smile was whisper soft. “You can call me Monroe. Everyone here does.”
I frowned.
Slamming his hands down on his armrests, he shoved to his feet and, holding up a finger, walked back to the door. “I know who your partner will be, Scarlett. He’s a cocky, tough bastard and generally unpleasant to most everybody—”
“Great. Sounds perfect,” I replied sarcastically.
“But he’s loyal and he’s quiet when he needs to be. Just, whatever you do”—he paused by the door—“don’t make the mistake of falling for him like his last partner did.”
“Please, don’t insult me.” I rolled my eyes, trying to hide my smile, but only because I was so damned excited to have made it through.
He came back a minute later, and behind him stood a detective with the same skin tone and eyes as Monroe.
He was tall, handsome, and had a glint in his eyes so devilish that I wasn’t sure what to make of the human. He held his hand out to me. He had a wide palm and a firm grip.
“This is Carter.” Monroe grabbed the man’s shoulder and squeezed. “Carter Monroe, my brother and the best damned detective on this side of the Mississippi.”
“So you’re my vampire,” Carter said in that same whiskey drawl as his brother, and thinking of him as Carter rather than Detective Monroe was easy, for something was a little more devil-may-care about that brother.
His clothes were nice but nothing that screamed elegance the way Monroe’s did.
Against my will, I found myself curious about the brothers and why they were there.
“That’s what they say,” I said, keeping my eyes on his left shoulder.
He nodded. His hair was buzzed shorter than Monroe’s, almost to the scalp. Something was gritty about Carter that I liked and trusted immediately.
He had the type of power that needed no words to back it up.
“Ready to ride?” he asked with a challenging smirk.
I snorted, glanced down at my feet and wished like hell I’d worn something a little more professional. I almost said something, but instead I shrugged. “Screw it. Hell yeah, I’m ready to ride.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He nodded a goodbye to Monroe, turned on his heel and made for the front door. “Today should be fun, little bat.”
Frowning, not sure I liked his term of endearment, I decided that just for one day I’d shrug it off. “Yeah, and why’s that?”
Opening the driver’s-side door of a black SUV, he gave me a lopsided grin. “Cause today we get to track down a demon dog. Get it.”
I groaned. “Oh hell.”
Tapping the roof of the car with his large hand, he chuckled. “It’s what you signed up for, isn’t it?” A dare was twinkling in the depths of his eyes.
I tilted my head up. “I guess I did, blood bag.”
His pause lasted a full minute, and at first, I worried that maybe I shouldn’t have teased him back, worried that maybe he hadn’t understood I was only giving him back what he’d given me, but then his lips twitched and, tossing his head back, he laughed.
“I think this is gonna be the start of a great partnership, Smith.”
I couldn’t have agreed more.
~*~
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Keep turning for a list of all my books!
Selene Charles’ Books in reading order:
Scarlett Smith Vampire Detective Series
Honeysuckle Memories (short story), Book .5
Whiskey, Vamps, and Thieves, Book 1
Fae Bridge Over Troubled Waters (novella), Book 1.5
Me and You and a Ghost Named Boo, Book 2
A Vampire Went Down to Georgia, Book 3 (Coming soon)
Tempted Series (completed YA Urban Fantasy)
Forbidden, Book 1
Reckless, Book 2
Possessed, Book 3
Bears of Kodiak (Completed bear shifter sexy novellas)
Chance, Book 1
August, Book 2
Phoenix, Book 3
Night Series (completed Dark Urban Fantasy written as RS Black)
Night Series Collection, Books 1 and 2
Howler’s Night, Book 3
Red Rain, Book 4
About Selene Charles
Selene Charles is the pen name of a NY Times and USA Today bestselling author. She is an avid penguin sweater knitterer. She believes that unicorns really do exist and that skittles aren't really candy at all. She enjoys skydiving in the arctic, chatting with her polar bear friends around a warm campfire while sipping on warm cocoa, and she used to work in a traveling carnival, which is where she got all these crazy ideas from. Only two of these statements are actually true.
If you'd like to know more about her or her works feel free to write her at [email protected]
Me and You and a Ghost Named Boo (Southern Vampire Detective Book 2) Page 32