20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection

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20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection Page 68

by Demelza Carlton


  She’d seen things before. Shadows out of the corner of her eye that no one else had seen. Once, she saw a glowing mist. But she’d never seen anything like the evil man.

  “Betty, are you all right? You haven’t stopped shaking for the last hour.” Bob Martin, one of the staff, looked at her with overly concern. He was a by-the-book kind of guy, and she had no intention of telling him what she’d seen.

  “I’m fine. Too much coffee,” she lied.

  The next couple of hours dragged on. She was glad when the detective, agent, and the drop-dead-gorgeous patient all left. With them gone, she didn’t have to keep remembering what she’d seen.

  Her shift ended at midnight and her car was parked on the other side of the hospital. She thought about asking Bob to walk her to her car, but his shift wasn’t over until one, and she wanted to get home and have a glass of wine.

  Besides, the detective had said that the killer wasn’t coming after her. Had he been Arvada’s Ripper? That’s what the press was calling him.

  She took a deep breath as she stepped out into the night area. Cool air rushed over her, and she pulled her coat tighter around her waist. When she exhaled, she could see her breath. The killer had been targeting women in Arvada. She was in Wheatridge, and she lived in Lakewood.

  I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe.

  She repeated this over and over in her mind, but the words failed to keep her heart from leaping in fear. The less than a five minute walk to her car, but it might as well been miles aways. She jogged a few steps, and then forced herself to a slow walk.

  No one else was out there and with everyone leaving, she could see her Chevy truck parked under a street light––a beacon of hope.

  She broke out into a run, her breath echoing against her ears, but a loud flapping sound took over. She looked around, and no one was behind her. But the man had turned invisible. He could be right behind her.

  The flapping grew louder as if overhead. She looked up into the sky but only cold stars and an eerie moon peered down at her.

  She pumped her arms faster and pushed her legs harder, as if Tolkein’s ringmasters of Mordor were after her. Her feet pounded against the pavement and her beating heart strained to break through her ribcage. She’d never run this fast. Her breath was heavy and dizziness gripped her.

  God, don’t have a heart attack.

  She fumbled to pull her keyless remote out of her purse. Her hair had fallen out of her ponytail, teasing her mouth. Tears of desperation blurred her eyes. She grabbed her remote, spilling the contents of her purse onto the pavement––her wallet, brush, and car keys.

  “Damn it!”

  She shoved the contents back into her stupid purse. Slowly, she realized the flapping had stopped. She whirled around.

  Only her heavy breathing marred the unusually silent night.

  A cloud covered the moon, blocking it out. Only the stark street light lit up the parking lot.

  No one was here.

  She hit the remote and the loveliest sound of the truck clicking filled her with joy. She’d been imagining the sound. She reached out to open the door, but someone seized her wrist and whirled her around. She stared up into the same hateful, golden eyes.

  “Miss me?”

  She opened her mouth to scream, but terror died on her lips.

  Daidhl smiled. “Detective Malloy claimed you were safe. You’ll pay for her insolence.”

  The killer slashed her throat with a blade, hacking through her windpipe and severing her blood vessels. Blood poured down her throat like a waterfall. She collapsed into a pool of death.

  Chapter 17

  Stuck at the police station, Anonghos sat miserably in a conference chair going through crime photos. His back ached where Daidhl had ripped him open, not to mention his tender neck that felt like it had been Daidhl’s favorite chew bone. With the slightest turn, the crude stitches pulled. At least the doctors hadn’t killed him.

  Human blood was close to Zalarian’s but not perfect. His empty stomach churned from the blood transfusion, swishing around a burning nausea. What he needed was some alone time with his mate, so he could continue to heal. According to Damon, mates had the ability to heal each other. He hadn’t believed it until Agnes had touched his hand in the emergency room, sending a healing spark through him, reducing the agony.

  That had only been a caress. What could she have done if she had kissed him? But all he could do was look at his curvy mate, who was within grabbing distance. Every instinct pushed him to take her, but they were in a small glass conference room with her brother, who watched Anonghos warily.

  Anonghos sighed, forcing the pain and desire back into his mind. Frank had requested an isolated room away from the other investigators. And, he’d asked that Agnes be put back on the case. The captain had thought it a strange, but granted the request. After all, Frank Malloy was the one asking. If Agnes had asked, she probably would have been turned down. Anonghos couldn’t understand how the police couldn’t see what a smart and gifted investigator they had in Agnes.

  Frank studied his team that worked diligently on the other side of the glass wall. “Do you think the unsub could be one of the investigators?”

  Anonghos followed his gaze. “Possibly. By the way, you can stop calling him an unsub? We know who the killer is.”

  “I’m still trying to wrap my brain around that he’s an alien.”

  “Deal with it,” Anonghos growled. “Daidhl is getting bolder. He believes he’s unstoppable.”

  “So far, he’s been right,” Frank mumbled.

  Agnes examined crime photos. “There has to be something we’re missing.”

  Frank tossed another photo on the table. “We’ve been through these a thousand times. Hell, the FBI computers aren’t able to figure out patterns. None of the victims had anything in common.”

  “I told you that they did,” Anonghos said.

  Frank glared. “Oh, that’s right. They’re designated mates for your dying planet. Forgive me if I forget that little fact.”

  Every muscle hurt and weariness beared down on Anonghos. The condescending agent spurred his bone-tired dragon. He clenched his fists. “You’re trying my patience.”

  Frank stood and slapped his hands on the table. “And you’re trying mine. According to you and my sister, the killer isn’t even human and he’s slaughtering innocent women.”

  The captain frowned on the other side of the glass wall and opened the door. “Is everything all right in here?”

  Frank lifted his hands. “Yes, we’re fine.” But his voice shook with anger.

  “Captain, we’re just all a little tired.” Agnes glanced nervously at Frank.

  “Fine,” the captain said, “but let’s keep our cool.”

  Frank turned his back, obviously trying to gain control.

  “Anonghos,” Agnes asked. “You don’t look well. Your face is turning pale.” She gingerly put her hand over his.

  Another pang of healing shot through him, enough to distract him from his stiff neck. “Just a little hungry,” he lied. Or more like a half-truth. What he needed was for her to kiss him or make love to him, but he couldn’t blurt this out. Not with her brother only a few feet away and a bunch of law enforcement outside. He’d have to suck it up.

  “Would you like something to eat or drink?”

  As long as I’m feasting on you.

  Anonghos shoved the thought behind him and in a strained voice said, “Sure.”

  She glanced at Frank, who leaned over the table, studying a map of Arvada. “I could order us take-out. Would pizza be okay?”

  “Fine,” he said absently.

  “As long as it has meat on it,” Anonghos grumbled, wishing instead he could lick every inch of her body.

  “I’m sure the other investigators are starving. In the mean time, I could get us some bottled water. Frank, would you like a bottle?”

  “Yeah, I would.”

  She walked out of the room to check with
the others. As far as Anonghos could tell, no one had eaten in the past four hours. Grisly murders didn’t exactly make anyone hungry.

  Frank leaned his shoulder against the wall. “My sister shouldn’t be here. She’s a caretaker. Not a cop.”

  Anonghos got up from the table and walked over to Frank. “You and I are going to have a serious disagreement.”

  “You’re right. When this is over, if we all get out in one piece, you’re not taking my sister to your desolated planet.”

  Anonghos flashed his gaze over Frank and smirked. “You’re going to stop me?”

  “With everything, I got in me.”

  “Why? You treat her like she’s a freak.”

  “She is a freak.”

  Anonghos crowded him against a wall. “No, she isn’t.”

  “You don’t get it, do you? My father and I have tried to make her normal, so she wouldn’t get hurt. We were both afraid something would happen to her. That she’d get into some kind of trouble she couldn’t get out of.” He pushed Anonghos back hard.

  Pain jolted his neck and put his back in spasms. He’d underestimated Frank’s strength. Maybe there was a reason why so many cops respected him.

  Frank went nose-to-nose with him, not seeming to care that Anonghos was at least six inches taller. “And now, it’s come true. If she didn’t have this damn ability, none of this would have happened.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Things happen to her that don’t happen to other people. She attracts weirdness.”

  Fury burned in Anonghos’s heart at her brother’s disdain for Agnes’s ability. He walked away from Frank to keep from strangling his thick neck, but he thought about what the condescending agent had just said. A hunch formed in his mind… Maybe a long shot, but the idea was all that he had to go on.

  “What kind of things have been attracted to her?”

  “I don’t know. Ghosts, psychics, weirdos…you.”

  Throbbing pain shot up Anonghos’s back. He turned away and slid into a chair to look at the photos one more time. “I’ll ignore that last part, but maybe you’re on to something.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Maybe the killer doesn’t know who our mates are. Maybe our mates have abilities. Maybe they’re the only ones we can mate with. And the Mistonian knows this.”

  “I thought the unsub,I mean Daidhl, was one of your people?”

  “He was. The Orion’s navigator.” Bitterness swept over him. “He was a good Zalarian, but he’s possessed by a Mistonian. Daidhl never would have done these things. He wasn’t a violent person.”

  Frank snorted. “I bet.”

  Anonghos didn’t argue. The humans didn’t know Daidhl, wouldn’t know the kindness in him. Even though he annoyed the hell out of Anonghos with his constant sprouting off annoying facts. He never should have been a crewmember of the Orion. He wasn’t strong enough to fight off the Mistonian. “Do you know if the other women had a psychic ability?”

  “How the devil would I know?”

  “Did you ever research it?”

  Frank folded his arms across his chest. “No. I would think the FBI computers would come up with that fact.”

  “Like Agnes, what if the women didn’t report their abilities, tried to keep them a secret? Would the computers pick that up?”

  The stubbornness in Frank’s eyes left, replaced with uncertainty.

  Agnes walked into the conference room. Her face pale and tears glistening in her eyes.

  Both Anonghos and Frank burst out, “What’s wrong?”

  Agnes opened her mouth, then turned away. When she faced them, her lower lip trembled. “There’s been another murder.”

  “Damn it!” Frank glowered. “Where?”

  “Lutheran hospital. The admitting nurse… Betty Wible.”

  “The same one who was with us when we saw Daidhl?”

  Frank’s voice trailed off as if he was witnessing the event all over again.

  Agnes nodded.

  He looked between her and Anonghos. “But that’s out of his hunting grounds.”

  Agnes shook. “I told her she’d be safe.” She put a shaking hand up to wipe away her wet cheeks. “We should have…put…a guard on her.”

  Not caring if he offended Frank or the other law enforcement, Anonghos wrapped his arms around her quaking body. “It’s not your fault.”

  She didn’t try to fight him, her fingers curling into his shirt. “He mutilated her body. It’s my fault… It’s my fault…”

  Just holding her made the stiff pain in his neck decreased. He could turn his head without the stitches pulling on his flesh. The connection between them was growing stronger, moving too fast. He kissed the top of her head. “No, it’s not.”

  He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her. If Frank spouted off another quip, he was liable to forget he was Agnes’s brother. But instead, Frank looked down at his shoes.

  Agnes took a quivering breath. “I’m okay.”

  Anonghos knew she was far from okay. Her body still trembled uncontrollably, but surprisingly, her voice was strong. She was tough.

  Frank cleared his throat. “Where was she found?”

  Agnes straightened her shirt. “In the parking lot of Lutheran hospital underneath a pine tree.”

  “Who called it in?” Frank asked.

  “No one,” she said slowly. “Betty told me.”

  Frank narrowed his eyes. “Betty the victim?”

  Anonghos put his hand on her shoulder, hoping to give her strength.

  She braced her shoulders. “You heard me.”

  Frank spread his arms out wide. “Is she here?”

  Agnes hesitated, but then blurted, “She is! She’s standing right in front of you.”

  “Bull shit.”

  The air turned cold and heavy. The hair on the back of Anonghos’s neck stood straight up. He looked around the room, but even with his dragon eyes, he couldn’t detect anything. Chills blew over his skin. Something was here.

  Suddenly, papers flew off the table, turning into a whirlwind, then circling Frank. He staggered back, swinging his arms to ward off the attack.

  “What the hell’s happening?”

  “She’s angry. Really angry.” Agnes slowly turned her arm over to reveal three long red slashes.

  “My Fates!” Anonghos carefully examined her arm. Anger erupted inside his gut. “Leave her alone.”

  Agnes put her hand over his. “Please stop. She’s not just angry. She’s still frightened. Very frightened.”

  Frank gathered papers off the floor. “Why? Daidhl can’t hurt her anymore.”

  Agnes pulled down her sleeve, concealing her scratches. “I know, but she can’t rest until we catch him.”

  “You need to get medical attention for those wounds,” Anonghos said.

  “I will later. Right now, we need to go to the crime scene.”

  Frank put the discarded pictures and paper onto the table. “Wait a minute. You’ve never said anything about a ghost ever scratching you before.”

  Anonghos frowned. “Is that true?”

  “Yes. So?”

  “Can you talk to her now?” Anonghos asked excitedly.

  “Yes, but why?”

  Frank organized the papers and photos, then put them back in order. “We have a theory about the victims that we might have missed.”

  Anonghos cast him a warning look. Frank just couldn’t admit that he or his law enforcement officers or the computers could have passed over an important clue.

  He focused on Agnes. “Frank and I think the women were psychics or had some kind of special ability. Did Betty possess this?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never encountered a spirit this powerful so soon after their death. I–” She held up her hand as if to silence them. “Betty says sometimes things would fly around when she was angry.”

  Frank put the photos and reports in a folder. “That’s an understatement.”

  The captain
burst into the room. “We found another body.”

  “Where?” Frank demanded.

  “Lutheran Hospital’s north parking lot. The body was found underneath a large pine tree near the victim’s truck.”

  The captain hurried out of the room, barking orders. Frank straightened his tie and cracked his neck. He clasped Agnes’s arm. “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

  Before she answered, he left. Anonghos tipped up Agnes’s chin. “Maybe your brother’s not such a bad guy.”

  “I never said he was. I just wanted him to believe in me.”

  “I know.” Unable to resist, his lips brushed over hers, allowing himself to indulge in the moment at her sweet taste. The nausea roasting in his stomach lessened.

  Agnes put her hands on his chest and pushed him away. “What are you doing? Not now.” She breathed hard, and her voice was thick with passion, not anger.

  Anonghos put his hand on her lower back. “Let’s go.”

  They left together while Frank went with his partner. Agnes insisted on driving and despite his male pride, he allowed her. He wasn’t sure how great he would have been at driving a car anyway.

  She turned out of the parking lot, the siren on top of her car screaming. “Do you think Frank’s apology means he believes what we’ve been telling him?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  She gripped the wheel tight, her knuckles turning white. “Figures. I was an idiot in thinking I could trust him.” She circled her head around as if trying to get rid of tension.

  “Don’t write him off yet. Here, let me try.” He reached over and rested his hand on the back of her neck. Her muscles were bunched up tighter than a constricting plake. He massaged his fingers, and she immediately raised her shoulders, as if to ward him off.

  “Relax.”

  “Not going to be able to until we catch the bad guy.”

  He pressed his fingers deeper into her flesh, trying to work out the bunched up knots. “Listen. While you were gone, I confronted Frank about always putting you down for your abilities.”

 

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