“Yes, Kyle. Thankfully it has.” He shook the tech’s hand.
“Hey, Kyle.” She took the paper. “What’s this?”
“Dakin asked me to leave the scene intact until you arrived in case you had any questions. He also wanted me to give you some of the stats on this and the other cases. Said you’d be lending some of your experience to the scene.”
“So nice of him,” she said wryly.
Kyle chuckled. “Yeah. If you’ll hurry and have a look, we can get this mess processed as soon as possible.”
“Thanks.” Natalia urged Jamison forward with a nod of her head. She stepped carefully, making sure she didn’t contaminate the scene. The honey pine wooden cross was huge and took up the back half of the room. The woman hung by her wrists, the weight of her body dragging down toward the ground.
Don’t think about it. Just do your job.
Fear choked her as the memories she’d fought so hard to suppress came crashing back into her present tense. The sensation of the straps on her wrists…the strike of the whip as it grazed her back…the horror of him touching her and not being able to escape.
Natalia clenched her teeth and forced herself to stare at the paper in her hand. She couldn’t read a word of it. It was shaking too badly.
Shit.
“Let me.” His eyes met hers, and a jolt of awareness shuttled through her. She did know him. Those eyes… Jamison took the paper and scanned its contents. His lips thinned and he glanced up at the body. “You think she died from her wounds? A bleed out?”
“I do.” Kyle pointed at the slices along her skin. “Of course, an autopsy will tell us conclusively, but the amount of blood and the spray patterns tell a story, and I believe that’s how she died.”
“He kept her for hours.” Natalia spoke softly, but the two men heard her.
“Yes. I should think so. The only question is, why didn’t the Dungeon Monitors catch this guy in the act?” Jamison frowned and approached the body, taking care not to step in any of the evidence. As he walked around behind the back of the cross he called out to Kyle.
“Can you come back here?”
“What did you see?” The crime scene tech scurried back, his white coat flying out behind him.
“What is it?” Natalia wanted to move, but her feet were bolted firmly to the ground, her eyes riveted on the body.
“Did they get a picture of this?” Jamison barked out a question, and Natalia started.
Kyle floundered, flipping through pages of documentation. “I don’t know. They must have, but no one said anything. Otherwise…”
“Was this at the other scenes?”
“No one saw it.” The tech pressed his lips together. “I’ll have them go over the photos again. You have to remember it’s been seven years.”
“Then I think you may consider checking. A woman’s life is on the line here.” Jamison’s voice was tight, and his eyes flashed anger as he emerged from behind the cross. “We need to leave, Natalia. I’m sorry your captain thought it would be good to bring you here.”
“What’s happened?”
Holt approached, and Jamison waylaid him. “A word, please.” The doctor waved him back toward where Kyle now worked with a photographer and another analyst.
“What the fuck?” Holt exclaimed, his gaze hot when his eyes swiveled toward Natalia.
What the hell was going on?
“I know. If the captain had any idea, he never would have assigned her. And if he did… God.”
“We have to get her out. Now. Then we get answers.” Holt came around from behind the cross, his face grim.
“Agreed. I’ll follow.”
Alarm skittered down Natalia’s back. They were keeping something from her. Something important. She pushed her fear down and started forward. Time for her Domme face, mask or not.
“Let me through.”
“No, Natalia. Don’t come back here.” Holt held up his hand and tried to herd her back toward the door.
“Get out of my way, Holt.” The growl in her voice was unmistakable. Her teeth ached from the need to bite, her nails eager to tear into the soft belly of the man who had done this.
“I think you should listen to your partner.”
“And I think you should butt out.” She brushed past Jamison, her eyes scanning for what it was that had them so convinced they were doing her a favor by hiding it.
There. Something on the base of the cross written in something red. She peered down at it, her mind not processing what she was seeing. It was blood. A word written in blood.
Natalia
Her name.
Why was her fucking name at a murder scene?
Because it was meant to be you. All of them. Each and every one.
The trembling in her hands spread, and she had to hold onto something to catch her balance as vertigo hit. Her fingers wrapped around the wood and slipped into something slick.
She jerked her hand away as if it had been burned and looked down at the brownish red goo covering her fingers.
Fuck. She’d just put her hands in the woman’s blood.
“I’m not done with you, bitch.” His voice crept into her subconscious, and she staggered, the internal blow hitting her like a jab to the guts.
“No!” She pushed away from the cross, wiping the blood on her jeans. She stumbled away and into the waiting arms of Ryder Jamison.
“Hold on. I’ve got you.” He scooped her up and cradled her against his chest as the floor rushed up to greet her.
***
He watched from the tree line and couldn’t believe his good fortune. He’d jumped the gun on this one, his senses on overload with the giddy sensation of his blade carving the girl’s flesh. Seven years he’d searched for the sub that ruined him. Because of her, he had to change his name, his appearance. Those in the BDSM community were too afraid of the police to turn him in. But he was not going to take a chance.
He took great joy in watching his crime scene unfold. This slip into murder had been a mistake. A snap in his carefully planned patience. But it seemed as if fate was working with him for once instead of being forever against him. There she was, being carried out of the scene like it had been her on the cross. It had been, in a way. He punished them all for not being her. Every single one.
As he watched the redheaded detective being carried out by the virile man with dark hair, he began to plan. She looked different, but even from his vantage point he could see she was his missing sub. Natalia. The girl who got away. Two days. He had two days to claim his prize, and he knew just how to do it. Red hair wasn’t going to save her. Not this time.
His little kitten was going to come home to roost.
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Also By Erzabet Bishop
Naughty Nights Press
Westmore Wolves Series
Wicked for You
Heart’s Protector
Burning for You
Taming the Beast
Mistletoe Kisses
Westmore Wolves Collection, Books 1-5
Beauty and Her Beasts: coming soon
Shifting Hearts Dating Agency Series
Hedging Her Bets
Waking Up Wolf
Kitten Around
Shifting Hearts Dating Agency Collection Bo
oks 1-3
Tempting Her Mate: Cider Falls Shifters #1: coming soon
Shifting Hearts Dating App Series
Mistle Tie Me: A Shapeshifter Holiday Romance
Your Wolfish Heart: A Valentine's Day Novella
Coming soon in Sweeter Than Chocolate: Valentine's Day Anthology!
Chocolate Moon Cafe
Coming soon in the Heart of a Phoenix: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, and Reverse Harem Collection
My Wicked Mates Series
Craving Her Mates
Surrendering to Her Mate
Tormenting Her Mate
My Wicked Mates Series Collection: Books 1-3
Burning For Her Mates: coming soon
Claiming Her Mates: coming soon
Howling For Her Mates: coming soon
Curse Workers Series
Sanguine Shadows
Map of Bones
(free with newsletter subscription)
Malediction
Arcane
Curse Workers Collection: Books 1-3
Hex : coming soon
The Witching Hour Series
Burning Midnight
The Gibbous Moon Series
Bound in Fire
Sigil Fire Series
Sigil Fire
Written on Skin
Glitter Lust
First Christmas: A Sigil Fire Holiday Romance
The Violet Hour: coming soon
Collections and Anthologies
Holidays and More:
A Lesfic Short Story Collection
Lesfic Tales:
A Lesfic Short Story Collection
Sapphic Holiday Cruise:
A Lesbian Holiday Collection
Sweet Sensations:
A Short Story Anthology
Standalone Short Stories
The Gingerbread Man: A Holiday Romance
Standalone Novels
Snow: A Shapeshifter Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance
Root Workers Series
Bayou Shadows: coming soon
About The Author
Erzabet Bishop is a USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of over forty paranormal and contemporary romance books. She lives in Houston, Texas, and when she isn’t writing about sexy shifters or voluptuous heroines, she enjoys playing in local bookstores and watching movies with her husband and furry kids.
Westmore Wolves Series: Shapesifter Collection Bks 1-5 Page 37