Supernatural Sleep: An Urban Fantasy Mystery (The Lyon Fox Mysteries Book 3)

by Ann Denton

  I trace the line of her chin. Why me? I ask the photo. Why?

  “I don’t know why they’re doing this, but I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.”

  For some reason, those words are the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Something in me snaps. I push the file away and lean forward over the table. “I can keep myself safe!”

  Bennett looks taken aback. “Whoa. I’m just trying—”

  “Stop acting like a boyfriend. Just stop. Okay? I don’t know what to do with you. Or this. And I’m going crazy with mixed signals. I have terrible taste in men—”

  “Hey, not in live men.”

  “Not funny.”

  “I’m just trying to lighten the mood. Ly, you’ve been the victim of a—”

  “You don’t know that! We haven’t proven—”

  “Are you seriously defending Hawkins?” he growls.

  I sputter. “No! I don’t know. We haven’t gotten any lab results yet. But you—”

  “Me? I didn’t do anything. I’m over here trying to be supportive when you want break ups. And space. And special favors. I’m a goddamn pretzel right now, Ly. Trying to be whatever it is you think you want at the moment.”

  “Well stop.”

  He freezes. His eyes blaze. “Stop what?”

  “All of it. Just let me handle it. It’s my life.”

  Smoke drifts out his nostrils. I can tell he’s fighting to stay in human form. “Your life is being threatened by the Crypts right now. You want me to sit back and watch the woman I love just get—”

  “Yes.” I hold up a hand. “Yes. I want you to sit back.”

  He leans back in the booth, aghast. “What the hell? How can you ask that of me?”

  This rage, this hot ball of fire deep inside the pit of my stomach that I didn’t know even existed until this very moment, erupts. “How could you break up with me for two years while you went rogue? While you fought and beat every cussed male dragon in your clan?”

  “What does this—”

  “I don’t know. But you left me. While you went through the shartiest thing a dragon can imagine. You didn’t need me then.”

  “So, what? You’re saying you don’t want me to be there for you?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “It was a mistake, Ly. I made a mistake.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Every day I thought about you. I’ve told you that.”

  “I know!” I slosh my drink as I gulp down the rest of it. I’m pretty pissed at my own mouth right now. Why do I have to say these things? Saying them only makes them more real.

  I wish I could take it back. Part of me does anyway. The part of me that still loves his touch. The swoony girl in me that two years ago had stars in her eyes over his jokes and his big, strong-man persona. The part of me today that loves the way our souls seem to sing when we’ve figured out a case.

  “Can you ever forgive me?”

  My eyes hit his. The impact makes me reel. Or is that the alcohol? “I’m trying. But you thought about me while JR and I made dartboards out of your face. You thought about me while I was busy speed dating on that stupid cupid site. You thought about me while I went through a zumba phase. The problem is you gave me two years to learn how to live without you. I know I can live without you. Do you really want to be with someone who knows they can live without you? I just … I don’t know if I can unlearn that.”

  Awkward silence is an understatement. It’s more like glacial silence. Or the-mountain-erupted-and-the-town-is-no-more apocalyptic silence.

  My stupid tongue.

  My stupid heart.

  I glance to the side, hoping a waiter will come interrupt us.

  I catch the flick of an orange tail out of the corner of my eye. I turn.

  “What are you—”

  I hold up a hand. I dash out of the booth. “It’s Tabby. I’ll be back.”

  Thank frickin’ goodness.

  I follow her around the corner. Away. Away. Away.

  I don’t think she sees me because she doesn’t turn back. She just sneaks along the wall, intent on her goal. She passes the kitchen and rounds another corner. She bats open a cracked door with her paw. There’s a hidden dining room back here with a single booth.

  The booth faces away from the doorway. I get a mafia movie vibe from this whole thing. I tense. I get low.

  Tabby crosses to the booth and quickly makes her way around to the other side. Her necklace jingles a little.

  “What was that?” a resonant woman’s voice drifts over the back of the booth.

  “I dunno.”

  I freeze as I recognize the man’s voice. That’s Luke. Tabby followed Luke here. He’s here … having dinner with another woman.

  Have I felt pain before?

  Anguish?

  Blinding white hot rage?

  I don’t think so.

  Whatever I’ve felt before, it feels like nothing compared to this.

  My anger at Bennett is a speck.

  This is a universe.

  I stand frozen in agony, as the couple in the booth stands up. It feels like they move in slow motion. I know it’s slow enough for me to wonder why the hell I feel so betrayed. I mean, I’ve only had a few dates with this guy. Why should I be so angry? Why does he owe me anything? Why did my ignorant little girl fantasies make him into the perfect man?

  I see Luke’s face as he leaves the booth and turns toward me. His jaw drops in shock.

  The woman behind him slides out of the booth and grips his bicep as she stands. She turns to look at me.

  I stare back.

  Streaks of grey and black hair are folded into a neat braid. She has strong brown eyes. And those freckles.

  For the first time in my life, I stare Cookie Gonzalez in the face.

  It’s true.

  Everything Bennett’s said is true.

  Chapter 11

  I turn and run. I don’t even notice the waiter I crash into, who’s carrying half-finished plates of spaghetti. I just barrel past, picking noodles off my neck as I head for the back door.

  I run past the stench of the dumpster, past the cars in the parking lot, down the road.

  I stop at a park and head for a bench.

  Time for soul-searching.

  What was Luke trying to do with me? Punish me? For what? Being nearby when his ex died? Does he still love her?

  That line of thinking is too painful. And all I have are theories, each worse than the next. So, I switch over to something else. I have to think about something else.

  Did I just ruin my relationship with Bennett? Are we even going to be able to work together anymore? Maybe I should just run away. Go stay with Jacob and his coyote shifter friends.

  My pain turns into anxiety. I can’t sit still. I drop to the ground and start doing push-ups. Damn Flowers and his stupid exercises. I can do forty push-ups now. I’m gonna end up with a nasty man chest. Yes, focus on that. Nasty man chest. Nothing else. Big square pecs where my boobs used to be. That’s right. I’ll be square boob. Isn’t that a cartoon?

  I collapse in the dirt; my brain and muscles are fried. No more thinking. No more feeling. I’m just gonna lay here forever. Maybe until I die.

  But then I hear a strange grunting noise behind me. I scramble up. Idiot!

  I should never have gone to the park alone. Trolls roam this area.

  I peer around in the moonlight until I see two boars rooting around near the trees. One nears the other and … climbs aboard.

  Normally, I’d turn away and give them their privacy.

  But the office needs to question a certain Man-Pig about his hospital roommates. And I definitely need distractions from my own life right now.

  “Hal?” I yell. “Is that you?” I know it’s a long-shot but hey, why not?

  The bottom boar squirms out from underneath the ‘embrace’ and rushes at me.

  Holy mother. I’m about to get gored.

  I leap onto the bench and try to balance
on the very top, ready to leap the opposite direction of the charging boar when it gets near.

  The boar transforms at the last second into a woman. She stands naked in front of me. I toss a hand out, blocking my view of her from the shoulders down.

  “Is he married? I swear, that pig didn’t tell me,” she says, using her hair to cover up most of her cleavage. I don’t bother citing her for a 10.92 Nude Public Shifting violation. I don’t wanna deal with that.

  Behind her, Hal turns human too. At this point, I just roll my eyes.

  “Baby, I don’t even know this chick.”

  I climb down from the bench, pull out my badge, and wipe the spaghetti sauce off it. I hold it up and they both cringe.

  “Tres Lunas Police. Hal, I need you to come down to the station to answer some questions about your roommates at the hospital.”

  “Hospital? You got rabies or something?” the woman starts backing away, eyeing Hal up and down, looking for signs of infection.

  “No, baby, it was just a bite!”

  “A bite!” She turns to me. “Was he with another girl?”

  “Whoa! I don’t know anything about that. We just need to talk to him about his roommates,” I decide it’s wiser not to get Man-Pig in big trouble three seconds before I question him.

  Hal looks grateful. I think. I’m kind of avoiding looking at him.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you both. But it’s really important. We need your help. Part of an ongoing investigation.”

  Hal nods. “Sure thing.”

  I turn to the woman, “Thanks so much for letting me borrow him. We really could use Hal’s expertise to narrow things down.”

  Hal’s grin widens.

  Good. Hopefully that just bought us a cooperative witness.

  “Hal, can I get your full name and contact info? Then you can run home to change and I’ll see you at the station.”

  “Sure thing,” he nods.

  Three minutes later, I’m on a Broomer on my way to the station. Bennett agreed to meet me there. And even though he was monosyllabic in his replies on the phone—and is certainly beyond ticked at me—I can’t help but think that finding Hal has been the best part of this night. I pray that this means my luck is changing.

  When I arrive, it looks like almost everyone working the case has already gathered. I’m a little surprised. I didn’t think Hal was that important.

  But then I see her.

  My favorite. Zoe Nightengale, the elf medical examiner who has the hots for Bennett. She’s got one of those gorgeous, waify model-slash-ballerina figures that make other women hate themselves—and her. Not to mention her annoying laugh. Like a stupid little silver bell. She’s standing right next to Ben, whispering in his ear. Serves me right.

  I look down and go find a spot next to Seena at the back. I recite to myself—you’re just an employee. Just an employee. I turn away when her fingers linger on Bennett’s wrist.

  I’m a mean person. I just don’t want to see anyone I’ve ever dated happy. That’s all this is. Just my evil side coming out.

  I need something else to look at, so I turn to Seena, “Hey, what’s going on?”

  “ME’s gonna talk about cause of death specifics. Which I hope is some super-rare ancient voodoo that only two people on the planet know.”

  “Ha. Likely.”

  He takes off his glasses and swipes at his eyes. “I know. I’ve been staring at computer screens all day. We’re so lost on this case, Ly. It’s not even funny. On our evidence sweep of the rooms, we found a thread. That’s it. A single glittery thread that doesn’t match the clothes of the vics. But we can’t even link it to the murder.”

  “You can’t link it to anything?”

  He shakes his head, “I mean, think. Visitors. NQNs. Nurses. Doctors. It could have come from anywhere. Otherwise, the scenes were frickin’ spotless. I haven’t found any suspicious money trails in these guys accounts. No suspicious emails. Becca’s on the way back from searching one of their houses with Darrell. Says there’s not so much as a dirty pair of underwear. These fae weren’t rich, no wives or kids or family issues. These guys played by the rules.”

  “Well, maybe that’s what got them killed? Un-bribe-ability?”

  “Not a word.”

  “I’m making it a word. You’ll find it on Witchipedia after this case is done.”

  He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I hope we get assigned to the same team for this next stint.”

  “Me too, Tonto.”

  “What? No. You’re the sidekick.”

  “Totally not.”

  “Who solved the last case?” he points at his chest. “This guy. Total Lone Ranger material.”

  “Who actually caught the bad guy—I mean girl?”

  “Only ‘cause I got shot.”

  Bennett’s voice breaks up our debate (which I was totally about to win). “Alright, everyone. Zoe’s here to describe the medical facts in the hope that it will prompt something. I have you all gathered here in case this information correlates to anything you’ve found. Not the time to hold back. We’re in need of leads, people.”

  “Desperate for them,” Seena whispers to me.

  “Reminder: I’m bringing in Man-Pig. What have you contributed again?”

  Zoe gives a tinkling nervous laugh before launching in. Guess she’s not much for public speaking. “Um … hi, all. I wanted to let you know that both victims appear to have been killed in the exact same manner. Both were given an extreme dose of sugar—probably magically enhanced to be more potent. At this point, we’re assuming—since they were at a dinner party—that the sugar was somehow liquified and put into their drinks. We have not yet found marks indicating it was administered in an intravenous fashion. Doesn’t mean prick marks weren’t hidden via enchantment—”

  A chuckle runs through the room. A lot of the senior investigators like to play a game. The naughty word game. They like to find ways to inject naughty words into their daily conversations. I guess Zoe’s unwittingly started a round.

  A senior investigator raises his hand and interrupts her, “So, you’re saying the stiffs were smooth?”

  “Makes this case a lot harder for us!” another voice in the crowd calls out.

  “How’re we supposed to erect a—”

  “Enough!” Bennett’s voice booms over the crowd. “This is serious. Halloween is a big time for Tres Lunas. We’re inundated with fae right now. And having two open fae murders is not good. For anyone.” He turns to Zoe and touches her elbow.

  My heart twitches at that. But it can take a hike. It’s an idiot.

  “Please, continue, Dr. Nightengale,” Ben says.

  She clears her throat again. “We’re still going over every inch of skin, but we haven’t found an injection site yet. We could still detect high volumes of sugar in their blood streams. That sugar was not spiked with any death agents. Alright, so that was part one, the instigator that got them to the hospital. Once there, both men were somehow drained of magic. When I say drained, I mean completely. No magic left in their bodies.”

  I can hear the dirty mutters go around the room at the word drained.

  “None? At all?” another cop in the crowd asks.

  “None. Dry as a bone.” Zoe looks pleased with herself for catching onto the game and playing. She gets a wolf-whistle for her effort.

  Yeah, because it was so hard to figure out, guys. I roll my eyes.

  Zoe continues, “The vics were essentially humanized right before they died.”

  Seena and I exchange a look. Around us, nearly everyone else does the same. Draining someone of all their power is unheard of. Particularly fae. Fae are born with magic, not gifted with it. So that affects the body’s interaction with it.

  Stealing someone else’s magic is big. A felony with an eighty-year minimum. I mean, murder’s bad too. But nearly every darkheart magical creature has killed a couple people.

  If you’re found to have stolen magic, good luck surviving
the prison sentence. Who’s gonna leave you alive if their magic’s at risk? The person that did this must have nothing to lose.

  Another hand goes up in the crowd and I hear Petey’s voice. “If someone drained the vics of magic, is it possible that the magic is recyclable? Meaning whoever took it could use it? I mean, it works for us vamps.”

  Zoe’s lips thin. “We’ve been looking into that. I haven’t read any studies on fae magic that state it’s proven transferrable outside of the ley line abundance on Halloween. And studies aren’t even sure if that’s fey magic itself, or if the fae are just conduits for the ley line magic in that scenario. Theoretically, I’d say it’s possible.”

  Bennett jumps in. “Let’s all assume it’s possible. Our profile should include that.”

  Well, there’s a twist.

  “What were their magic powers again?” I call out.

  “Flying and fire,” Bennett responds.

  “Has that glittery thread found at one of the scenes been analyzed to see if it has magic on it?”

  “Not enough of a sample for testing, Lyon, but I like your thinking. If it was from the murderer’s clothes or something, it’s possible the drained magic got onto them.” Bennett calls back.

  The praise earns me a couple glares. So, I shut up.

  Seena whispers at me, “I’ve never read about theft for transfer. You?”

  I shake my head. “The cases Flowers showed us only dealt with people who stole magic to prevent the other person from using it. Wizards who didn’t want the other side attacking them. War-related. That kinda thing.”

  Zoe speaks up. “If transfer is the end goal here, the person committing these crimes would need to know some way to bind the drained magic to themselves. It would be very advanced stuff.”

  Bennett steps in. “Go through your potential suspect lists again and look for anyone who might be smart enough to pull something like that off. Darrell’s our resident spell expert. He’ll be back in—oh, there he is. Darrell come on up.”

  The mummy pads over to the front of the room and Becca slips in beside Seena.

  “Hey, heard it was a dead end searching the vic’s houses. Sorry,” Seena squeezes Becca’s hand.