by Nova Archer
Her whole body ached for him. She wanted nothing more than to bound into the grass and give herself to him. But she hesitated. Fear kept her still. She was afraid. Because with the desire came the realization of her true self. An identity she'd been fighting with her whole life. An identity that she feared and loathed with every breath.
She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him that she couldn't be his. That their union was not possible. That she was afraid of him and herself. But all that came out was a gruff bark and a series of low mewls.
Jace's ears perked up and he shook his muzzle and snuffled a few times. Remarkably, she understood him.
Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you.
Tears wanted to form in her eyes. Could wolves cry? She didn't know and she didn't care. He was so beautiful outside and in. He didn't deserve to be saddled with her issues. They were hers to deal with and hers alone.
Tala opened her mouth again and with it came a low keening. The sad sound of despair vibrated around her making her shiver. Would he understand her?
Understand that although she wanted to be with him, ached for him, she couldn't—not without sacrificing her entire world.
Without waiting for his reply, she turned and ran deeper into the woods.
She should have known he would chase her.
He was as stubborn as a wolf as he was a man.
She could smell him as she bounded through the trees. His scent called to her, but she refused to listen. Refused to give into it.
She ran harder, faster. Zigzagged around trees and fallen timber. But she could still sense him behind her matching her stride for stride, movement for movement.
She ducked under a downed oak, thinking she could lose him, but when she came up, he was on her. They tumbled over the brush and sticks in a tangled heap. Finally, Tala ended up on her side with Jace loaming over her his jaw open and teeth flashing.
Bending down, he took her by the scruff of the neck. His teeth bit into her fur and skin, but she felt no pain. Instead, her body woke. As if for the first time in her life. It thrummed and quaked for his touch.
A growl erupted from him. The sound was gruff and menacing but Tala heard the message, understood his meaning.
I can help you through this. Trust me.
Jace shot awake, his arms and legs flailing wildly. He nearly rolled off the cot he had been sleeping on. His heart thundered in his ears. The strained effort of the pounding organ made his chest throb. Rubbing a shaky hand over his face, he looked toward the open door.
Lyra stood in the doorframe, her brow furrowed. "Get up. We have a big problem."
Before Jace could respond, Lyra was gone. Shaking his head, Jace swung his legs off the cot, stood, twisted his body side to side and wandered out of the small sleep room and into the hall. It didn't take long to realize where Lyra and everyone else had disappeared to.
Jace followed the stream of people into the staff room. A crowd had gathered there in front of the TV. Caine, Eve, and Lyra stood at the back and off to the side with Hector. He looked around for Tala, but he didn't see her in the crowd.
He pushed past a couple lab techs to stand beside Lyra. "What's up?"
No one answered. No one had to. Everyone was watching the TV. The female reporter on the news told Jace everything he needed to know.
"During my coverage of the Samantha Kipfer murder, I have uncovered a startling piece of news."
A picture of Caine flashed on the screen. It looked like it had been taken just outside the San Antonio police department front doors.
"This man, Caine Valorian, one of the crime scene investigators, from a lab this reporter has been unable to determine, has himself a mysterious, sordid past. A quite remarkable past, if you ask me."
Another picture flashed on the screen. This one was much older, in black and white. It showed Caine. Looking much like he did now, except with longer hair. Instead of an Armani suit and tie, he wore a long surcoat, and britches, circa, 1890.
The pictures of Caine now and then were settled side by side. The resemblance was unmistakable.
"Is this the same man?" the reporter continued. "If it is then maybe the rumors are true. Maybe we are surrounded by strange beings with dark and dangerous powers. If we are, then are any of us safe?"
The reporter went on about the controversial rumors from the eighties about movie star Liam Wolf transforming into his namesake on national TV and how the government has been keeping the knowledge of the existence of Otherworlders a secret.
Jace cursed. Much louder than he intended by the shocked looks on some of the lab techs' faces.
"You can say that again," Caine said.
"How bad is it?"
Caine put his arm around Eve, but kept his gaze on Jace. "Let's find a private place to talk."
Two minutes later, they were all seated again in the conference room. Caine sat at the head of the table. Jace perched on the edge of the table, too agitated to confine his body in a chair. He could smell the anxiety wafting off of Caine. And it worried him something fierce.
"The scrutiny on me has made this case even more fragile. I don't know how that reporter found out about pieces of my life, but she has and has decided to reveal them on the local television news."
"I'd love to kick her ass," Eve reached over the table and grabbed Caine's hand.
Smiling at her, he said, "I know you do, my darling. But we need you on this case even more now. Having your sweet self in jail wouldn't do us any good." He squeezed her hand. "Because of this, I think it would be best if I stepped away from the investigation."
Jace bolted off the table. "What? That's insane. We can't let them push us around."
"It's not about us and them, Jace. It's about solving the case. That's the main objective here. My involvement is just going to confuse the issue now."
"So what do you suggest?" Hector asked.
"Someone else will have to take lead on this case. And I'll have to be hands-off." Caine stared right at Jace.
Jace glanced around at the others. Everyone was eyeing him with varying emotions. Hector didn't look pleased, nor did Eve. Lyra regarded him with a mixture of interest and pity. None of them made him feel any better.
"Jace, you're going to have to step up to this, my friend."
"Why me?"
"Because I know you can."
Pacing again, Jace tried to take in slow, measured breaths. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't a front man. He did his best work behind the scenes.
"Why not Eve? She's human. She'll work better with them," he offered, waving his hand around to indicate the collective others beyond the conference door.
Caine glanced over at his wife, and lifted her hand, linked in his, to his lips. "Because she is not a level three investigator."
Eve pulled her hand from Caine's mouth. "Just because I'm not a level three yet, doesn't mean I can't do the job."
Jace shook his head. Caine had to know that Eve wasn't going to settle for a simple answer like that. Neither was he.
Sighing, Caine leaned back in his chair. "I'm sorry if that upsets you, Eve, but the truth is you don't have enough experience to lead this investigation. Jace has the experience and the tenacity to see this case through to the end, regardless of the outcome."
"It's because I'm human and a woman, isn't it?" she demanded.
He grabbed her hand again, and set it on his chest. "No, it's because I love you and I will not see you get hurt again. I don't want you in the front of this, Eve. This killer is on a mission. We missed him in Necropolis and you nearly died. I won't let that possibility ever happen again."
Jace heard the agony in Caine's voice. He knew what torture the vampire had been through during the last case.
Sucking up his ego, Jace swirled around and pointed his finger. "I'll cooperate but I won't work under any human."
"You'll work directly with Hector," Caine responded, still clutching Eve's hand.
Jace glanced at Hector. The man had proved to
be trustworthy and seemed to be at ease with their otherness. Since he likely had no choice, Jace agreed.
"Okay. Where are you going to be?"
"Here in the lab for now. Unless something else comes up and the lynching mob bangs down the doors with torches and pitchforks to chase me out or bring me down." Caine slid his stack of files across the table to Jace. "All our evidence is logged in there, photos of the body, crime scene, everything you need."
Jace picked up the folders and leafed through them. There was a lot of information packed between the manila cardboard. He didn't know where to start. He had no idea how to lead others. It had never mattered to him before.
"I trust your nose, Jace. You've never been wrong."
"I am not calling you chief or boss, just so you know," Lyra smirked as she stood and came around the table to stand next to him. She punched him on the shoulder. "But I've got your back, as usual."
Eve nodded. "I trust Caine's judgment. You're a good investigator, Jace. I'm with you on this."
Although he never sought Eve's approval, it felt surprisingly good to hear her say she had faith in him. Even if it was all based on her husband's initial confidence.
"I don't care who does what, as long as we catch this guy," Hector said just as his cell phone chimed. Fishing it from his pocket, he answered on the third ring. After a few head nods and a couple of grunted responses, he flipped it closed and looked at Jace. "No time like the present to see what you're made of. We have another DB."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rage. Unbridled seething rage. That's what Jace scented the moment he stepped into apartment 810 of the Sun Vista Towers.
There was no mistaking the tinny odor of blood and death as he, Lyra, Eve, Hector and Tala entered through the front door and were directed toward the bedroom in the far corner of the small but tasteful suite.
The two officers standing just outside the bedroom doors were green around the gills and they averted their gazes as Jace led the team toward the crime scene. How bad the scene was going to be was written all over their faces.
"Hey, Mannie." Hector nodded to the younger officer. Officer Vargas was printed on his name badge. "What are we looking at?"
Mannie read off his notepad. "Rebecca Simmons, age twenty-four. No sign of forced entry. A neighbor reported the smell at about 11 p.m.," he informed them. "The coroner's already in."
Bracing himself for the worst, Jace snapped on his latex gloves and was about to step into the room when the other officer stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"I'd put on shoe covers if I were you. It's a mess."
Jace took the man at his word, and pulled plastic shoe covers from his kit and slid them on over his shoes. Eve, Lyra and Hector did the same. When Tala reached out for a pair, he shook his head.
"You're not going in."
She glared at him for a moment then looked away, turning to go stand with the other officers near the front door.
He had thought she was going to argue. But something in his eyes must have told her not to bother, that his mind was made up.
On another day, he would've looked forward to arguing with her, but not now. Not with the scent of death and destruction swirling all around nearly making him ill. He didn't want her to witness it. He wanted to save her from future nightmares.
Outfitted properly, Jace stepped into the bedroom with his kit in hand. Eve, Lyra and Hector followed close behind.
Nothing could have prepared him for the carnage he witnessed.
There were red shoe prints from the door to the bed and back. Also several prints were scattered around the bed and to the window. There was a wooden chair near the window. Blood drops surrounded it.
Jace glanced over his shoulder at Eve. "Find out how many people were in and out of here. Looks like three sets of prints."
She nodded, then exited the room.
"We need pics of the entire room and of these prints," Jace ordered.
Hector stepped to Jace's side. "I'll get the room shots." He lifted his camera and started taking multiple photos of the room, from the door, from the far side near the closet, and from the window to give them the entire overlay of the crime scene.
"I'll get the shoe prints," Lyra said as she pulled out the yellow plastic markers from her kit. "I don't think I'm ready to look at the body quite yet."
Jace didn't think anyone was ready to inspect the body. But it had to be done sooner than later.
Keeping left of the path of bloody prints on the beige carpet, Jace walked to the bed where their latest murder victim still lay on crimson-soaked sheets. The smell of blood and other bodily fluids nearly smothered him. But it was the sulfur that had his
Eyes filling with tears.
The stench was the strongest right beside the body.
The coroner had just finished taking the liver temperature. He glanced up as Jace neared. "I'd say she's been dead around twenty hours." He scribbled his notes on his clipboard, then packed up his kit. "I don't think I've ever seen anything like this. Have you?"
Jace shook his head unable to form any words as he surveyed the damage.
Kit in hand, the coroner left without another word and exited the room the same way Jace had come in.
"Two officers came in the room. They said they walked to the bed to check her vitals and back again," Eve said from the doorway. "They didn't touch anything or move anywhere else in the room."
"Then this other set of prints has got to be our guy. And it's not a shoe print but a footprint," Lyra offered as she set a marker beside a footprint by the window. She took several shots. "This guy must be huge. His print is a size sixteen."
Jace absorbed the information without comment. All he could concentrate on was the tragic condition of the body. Someone had torn the poor girl apart inch by inch.
Her body, from toe to head, was one huge roadmap of red lines. Cuts. Some were deep, some were shallow. There was no definite pattern, none that he could discern anyway. Maybe Lyra would see something different.
Just like last time, the magical symbols were there. Except instead of painted on with blood, they had been etched into the girl's flesh. Had to have been done with a small knife. A scalpel, perhaps or maybe even a razor blade. Looking closer though, he noticed the cuts were irregular and jagged. Something a claw could make.
Shivering from the thought, he made a mental note to check the victim's bathroom for hair shavers. Maybe the perp used hers.
He winced imagining the pure agony the girl must have suffered through. He just prayed that she had been at least unconscious for some it, unaware of what was being done to her.
"Lyra, I need you."
When she shuffled in beside him, he heard her quick intake of breath. "Oh sweet Lord. He's escalated."
"Yeah, I kind of got that impression." Jace glanced at her. "Is the signature the same?"
Lyra lifted her hands and let them hover over the victim's torso then clamped her eyes shut. Within seconds, she opened her eyes and lowered her hands. She shook her head but kept her eyes on the body. "No. Nothing."
"It's not the same magic?"
She looked at him and he saw the confusion in her eyes. "Some of the symbols are the same but there's no magic."
Jace looked back down at the mutilated body. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. There is no ceremony here. Some of the symbols are missing, and some are changed. I think on purpose."
From behind Jace, Hector offered, "Maybe it's not our guy."
Jace took in everything about the victim. Young, female, magical symbols on her body. Then he glanced around at the surroundings. They were in an apartment, upscale and trendy, in a busy complex. Not somewhere far from people. Not in an abandoned house, or scummy hotel room or slaughterhouse. There were several melted black candles scattered around the room in no certain pattern. Not in a circle like the last time.
There were several differences here, but it was the similarities that made him certain this was the same murderer. T
hat and the scent of sulfur. It was too strong, too distinctive to be a coincidence.
"It's our guy." Jace glanced back at the rest of the team. "I think we've just pissed him off." He turned back to the body.
"I'll search the hall and check with neighbors for anything out of the ordinary," Eve said.
Jace lifted his hand to indicate that he heard her but continued to regard the body on the bed. Maybe if he stared at her hard enough something would lead him to the killer.
Before the murders were controlled and exacting. Purposeful. This savageness was without restraint. The killer had done this for a different reason. As a show to them? A message? If it was a message, Jace was taking it very personally.
"Do you think she's been sexually assaulted?" Lyra asked.
Jace nodded. "By the looks of this rage, I don't think he could've helped himself."
"Maybe we'll get some DNA."
"Yeah," Jace said as he picked up the victim's hand examining her nails. "Looks like she got a piece of him here too."
"Here." Lyra handed him a nail scraper and a small paper evidence envelope.
As Jace scraped the dirt and what he thought to be skin from under the victim's nails, he shook his head. "I don't think DNA is going to help us much. This guy's not human."
"We can send it to Gwen. If he's in our database, we'll find him."
When Jace was done, he sealed the envelope and handed it back to Lyra. "Yeah, but I don't think he'll be in our database. I don't think he's one of us either."
"Then what?"
"I don't know." Glancing around the room, Jace tried to take in everything, searching for that one thing that would give them the break they needed. As it was they had nothing to go on, except a possible drug connection.
Jace swiveled around and looked at Hector, who was searching through the victim's dresser drawers. "We need to find out if they knew each other, have the same friends, frequent the same places. And I'd start with Hard Bodies."
Turning Hector smiled. "I was thinking the same thing." He lifted his hand. In between his fingers he held a sports tank top. "Hard Bodies is just four blocks from here. I bet you she works out there."