Читать книгу Grey's Magic - Dawn Addonizio - Страница 10

Burr sneered as he watched the blonde fold a fluffy white sweater. This one was called Marianne, and from what he’d seen, most of her dreams were pathetic and mundane. It was as if her dull human mind was caught in a loop of repetitive tasks from her life.

This time she was packing a suitcase, her ponytail bobbing as she muttered to herself about how she was going to miss her flight. Burr felt her anxiety and breathed its essence deep into himself, feeding off of it and shivering with pleasure as her panic escalated.

But it was too soon in the game to get her worked up. And this wasn’t the type of primal fear that he savored most. He fed her a calming suggestion and showed himself to her in a form that he knew she would find pleasing.

She started, unsure what to make of a strange man appearing in her bedroom, clad only in jeans. She wasn’t afraid though. It was as if a part of her knew this was a dream. Or perhaps his facade was so attractive that the little slut didn’t care.

Burr smiled at her, throwing off languid waves of seduction. “Marianne,” he said in a throaty voice, “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”

She stepped toward him, the suitcase disappearing and her imaginary flight forgotten. “You have?” she asked, clear green eyes sparkling with hope and uncertainty.

He gave a slow nod and extended a hand to her. “Come here, my love,” he whispered.

Burr felt her responding to him, felt the moment that she began to accept the fantasy he offered. In turn he made subtle changes to his appearance as he sensed the finer tendrils of her desires. A darker shade of hair, a slightly fuller lip, a gentler arch to his brow...

Her pupils dilated in response and he knew he had her ensnared. He pulled her into his arms, and she exhaled in a soft puff as he slowly lowered his head to kiss her.

He brushed her tongue with his, teasing, not going too deep, just the way she liked it. He cupped her neck with one hand, his thumb caressing her slender nape, his other hand stroking the small of her back. He gave her exactly what she yearned for, and her passion bloomed at his touch.

Her emotion tasted sickly sweet to Burr, an unpalatable mush compared to the deliciously sharp flavors of fear and pain.

But he reigned in his own desires and continued to indulge hers. He hated this stage of the game, but it was necessary. If he played his part with skill, the bitch would begin to crave him in her waking life as well as her dreams.

She would invite him into her psyche, laying herself open to him like a banquet. And then it would be her fears he fed from, instead of her filthy desires. He would touch her lithe, little body the way he wanted.

And that fragile neck of hers? He would enjoy watching her gasp and choke for air as he squeezed it.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Fat, round seagrape bushes dotted the yard of the small white-washed house. It was a throwback to Florida’s yesteryear, with its low, flat roof and dated jalousie shutters. But it was on prime real estate, tucked into a corner lot across the street from the pristine shores of Palm Beach proper.

Scarlett and Pat blinked to an inconspicuous spot further down the sidewalk. They started casually toward the property, like any other couple out for an evening stroll.

A silver Bentley convertible was parked beneath an old fashioned carport on the side of the house, but there were no other vehicles in sight. Yellow crime scene tape crossed the front door, fluttering softly in the breeze.

Pat paused to listen, murmuring a detection spell beneath his breath. “There’s no one inside,” he said after a moment.

“Here, put these on.” He pulled a thin pair of latex gloves and shoe covers from an inside pocket of his jacket and handed them to her. “The human lab techs have probably collected their evidence already. But just to be safe, when we blink in, don’t…”

“Touch anything, I know,” Scarlett finished for him, as she pulled on the latex. She was beginning to feel antsy and unsure about her insistence to come along. There was an uncomfortable aura about this place, as if the murdered woman’s horror and pain lingered in the air.

Pat’s gloved hand landed on her shoulder and she inhaled sharply. His eyes flickered to hers, heavy with concern.

“Let’s just get inside before someone sees us,” she muttered, blinking into the house before either of them could further question the wisdom of her doing so.

The place was as tiny as her cottage in the faerie realm. The floors and baseboards were done in distressed white wood that looked crisp and clean against walls painted a foamy sea-green. Beautiful fans of coral were mounted throughout the space as decorative sculptures.

A sliding glass door along the back wall opened onto a quaint patio garden with a canvas umbrella above a wicker table. Flowers bloomed neatly in baskets hanging from upright metal stands.

Pat nudged her and pointed to a small bookshelf built into one wall. Titles like Supernatural Realms and Shamanistic Healing populated its length.

“Come on,” Pat said, motioning toward the door to the bedroom. His voice fell flat against the silence.

Scarlett trailed behind him, stifling a gasp at the sudden, oppressive atmosphere when she crossed the threshold of the room.

“I’ve felt this at violent crime scenes before,” he remarked quietly. “This woman’s spirit is not yet at rest. It loiters here, searching for closure, instead of crossing over to the Sea of Souls.”

“Is there a way to speak with her?” Scarlett asked, taking measured, calming breaths.

Pat shook his head. “Not likely. Mediums are rare. And when we’ve used them in the past, the victims’ spirits were usually too terrified and confused to give us any intelligible information.”

“Do you smell that?” Scarlett asked.

Pat moved closer to the tousled bedcovers and sniffed. “Definitely a Morpheus potion. And it’s stronger by the bed.”

“You don’t think it’s one of the sidhe, do you?” Her chest tightened at the thought of one of her own people committing such terrible crimes.

“There’s no reason to assume that,” he assured her, though his eyes were troubled. “Anyone from our realm could get their hands on a Morpheus potion. I’m going to have to bring a mage in on this to tell for sure though. Between all six crime scenes, hopefully she can pick up on something that will tell us what kind of being we’re dealing with.”

Scarlett heard a faint click from the other room and her gaze flew to Pat’s. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.

She lifted her hand to summon her sword, and Pat grabbed it out of the air with a curt shake of his head. She jerked her fingers away from his, but before he could warn her to blink out, there was a man crouched in the doorway pointing a gun at them.

“FBI. Hands where I can see them,” he barked. “NOW!”

Pat lifted his palms in supplication and motioned for Scarlett to do the same. He could see that she was having trouble with the idea, and silently prayed that she didn’t do something stupid. Like summon a sword out of thin air in front of an armed human.

“Identify yourselves,” the agent demanded.

“Pat Sparrow, Palm Beach PD,” he replied calmly.

He hated impersonating the human police, especially to other police officers. But talking to their FBI might reveal useful information. Not to mention Pat recognized him from his online mug shot.

Dark skin, a fighter’s physique, and intelligent, piercing eyes beneath a neat skull trim. This was Scarlett’s Agent Derrington. And the temptation to bring them together was too much for him to resist. He hadn’t seen her show interest in a male in almost two hundred years.

“This is Scarlett Thresher.” He jerked his head toward Scarlett. “She’s a friend of mine with the Key Largo PD.”

It was obvious from the confusion on Derrington’s face that he recognized her from their front yard brawl.

“Listen man,” Pat continued, trying to create a plausible scenario before Scarlett said something to add to the agent’s suspicion. “I know we’re not supposed to be here, but I heard about it on my scanner and it’s less than a mile from my girlfriend’s place.

“Scarlett’s in town visiting and we decided to go for a walk and check it out. She said there was a murder a lot like this one down in Largo recently.”

Pat could practically see the wheels turning in Derrington’s mind as he weighed the probability of the story.

“How did you two get in here?”

Pat gave a chagrinned smile. “I don’t want to get anybody in trouble, but the back slider was unlocked. We figured the lab techs had already been through the place, but we were careful not to touch anything.” He waggled his gloved fingers at the FBI agent.

Derrington’s gun remained pointing steadily at them. He was obviously having a hard time swallowing the coincidence of Scarlett showing up at both crime scenes. Pat couldn’t say he blamed the man.

“You two have your badges on you?” the agent challenged.

Pat nodded and glanced down at his jacket. Luckily he never entered this realm without a spell designed to fool human eyes into believing they had seen whatever identification he needed them to see. He might hate situations like this, but he was prepared for them.

“Let’s see them. Slowly. One at a time. You first,” Derrington told Pat.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Grey could scarcely believe his eyes. The badass woman of his dreams was here at another one of his crime scenes. It occurred to him that it might not be real. He might still be snoozing on the plane right now. He was certainly sleep deprived enough.

She had looked delectable in that thigh length couture she’d worn while kicking his ass. But she looked even more amazing in skin tight jeans, a black leather vest and boots.

Her presence was making it difficult for him to concentrate. And that was dangerous in his line of work. He narrowed his eyes on her companion and tried to focus.

The man kept one hand up as he slowly reached inside his jacket and pulled out a leather wallet, flipping it over so Grey could see. The badge blurred before his eyes for a moment, and he blinked.

He really needed to get to a hotel and get some sleep.

His vision cleared and the badge resolved into what he recognized as a PBPD shield beneath a card identifying the man as Patrick Sparrow.

He nodded, relaxing his guard. “Sorry about the weapon, Officer Sparrow. You can’t be too careful. Especially when you’re dealing with an unsub like this one.”

“No need to apologize, Agent. As I said, I know we’re not really supposed to be here.”

Grey holstered his gun and raised a brow at Scarlett. “Officer Thresher? I believe we’ve met,” he said with a lopsided grin.

Pat’s eyes widened in an admirable semblance of surprise. “Holy shite. You’re the FBI guy she attacked down in Largo?”

“Oh she told you about that, did she?” His curious gaze travelled back to Scarlett. “Why didn’t you identify yourself as a police officer the last time we met?”

Scarlett cleared her throat, trying not to appear as nervous as she felt. She was still reeling over seeing him again. Not to mention she had no idea what to do if he asked to see her badge. She didn’t know what kind of Seelie magic Pat had up his sleeve, but she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to be able to pull one out of her ass.

Pat nudged her and she realized Derrington was still waiting for her to respond. “Uh. I was at my brother’s wedding,” she said huskily. “I wasn’t on duty and I’d been drinking. And to be honest, I was mortified that I’d attacked an FBI agent. I just wanted to get out of there before there was any more trouble.”

The words flowed easily from her lips because they were mostly the truth. She silently thanked Pat for his quick thinking in setting up such an easy story for her to play along with.

“Do you do that a lot?” Grey asked with a dimpled grin.

“What? Drink?” Scarlett asked defensively.

Grey’s laughter was a rich, smooth sound that resonated in her core. “No. Get into trouble,” he clarified.

Scarlett realized he was teasing her and a slow warmth infused her as she drank in his smile and returned it with one of her own.

“I am trouble,” she returned softly.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.” Something flashed in his dark eyes that made her heart skip a beat. “And I definitely want you on my side the next time I’m in a fight.”

“You just name the time and place, Agent Derrington,” she replied.

“Please, call me Grey,” he requested.

“Grey,” she intoned, “I’m Scarlett.”

Jesus, it made him a little hard just to hear her musical brogue caress his name. Grey swore to himself. If she ever physically caressed him like that, he’d probably explode.

Pat watched as Scarlett flushed prettily beneath Derrington’s gaze. Well he’d be damned. She was actually flirting with a male—a human one. He’d have never believed it if he hadn’t seen it for himself.

And from what he’d seen of Derrington’s bio, the guy might just be perfect for Scarlett. Now how to keep the two of them together for a while?

Pat cleared his throat. “I don’t want to step on any toes,” he hedged, “but it’s obvious this case and the Largo one are serials. Otherwise the FBI wouldn’t be involved.”

Grey sighed and ran his hand over his skull trim. “I usually work with the county sheriffs instead of the local PD’s. But it’s no secret what kind of monster we’re dealing with here. And frankly, the more local cooperation we have, the easier it’s going to be to catch this guy.”

Pat smiled. “I’m real happy to hear you say that, man. Like I said, my girlfriend lives right up the street from here, and Scarlett’s brother and sister-in-law live less than a mile from the victim in Key Largo. We’ll do anything we can to help. This psycho is hitting a little too close to home for all of us.”

He frowned as if a thought had just come to him. “Hey, I don’t know where you’re bunking tonight, but can Scarlett and I buy you a drink before you head out?”

“I may not be the best company,” Grey warned. “I’ve had about three hours of sleep in the last three days.”

The FBI agent looked uncertain. But Pat could tell from the smile he flashed Scarlett that he didn’t want to refuse a drink with her no matter how tired he was.

“That’s rough,” Pat sympathized. “My girlfriend’s waiting for us to get back, and her penthouse is in the hotel just up the street. A drink there would be quick and we’ve got an idea about the case we’d like to bounce off of you. I promise we won’t keep you long.”

Grey glanced around the bedroom. That familiar herbal smell lingered in the air. It was driving him crazy that they hadn’t been able to identify it yet. But he couldn’t do anything about it tonight.

His flight had arrived too late for him to meet with the lead detective at the sheriff’s office. And he would probably be better off waiting until tomorrow to look at the scene with fresh eyes.

He was about to accept their offer when his phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said, leaving the room to take the call in private.

Scarlett waited until she heard Grey talking in a muffled voice from the other room, and then turned on Pat with a hiss.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded in a tight whisper. “First you swore we wouldn’t get involved with the human police, and then you go and offer to show him my badge?” she spat incredulously.

“Calm down,” Pat insisted in a low tone. “If he’d wanted to see your badge, my spell would have made sure he’d seen it. I told you I didn’t like impersonating the human police, but sometimes it’s necessary.

“Besides, don’t act like you don’t want to have a drink with him,” he added with a grin that she wanted to knock right off his face.

She clamped her mouth shut when she heard Grey’s soft footfalls returning to the room.

His eyes were drawn to her as soon as he walked through the doorway. She was so damned beautiful it took his breath away. Right now her sea-green gaze was narrowed with dangerous intent on Sparrow. She flicked at a strand of silky, strawberry blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail as she glared at the other man.

Grey frowned, hoping she wasn’t pissed that Sparrow had invited him along for a drink. But when her eyes moved to his, her gaze softened. Hopefully that was a positive sign.

“Well, if the offer still stands, I guess I could use a drink,” he said. “I’ve just been informed that I have my choice of a third-rate motel about a half hour from here, or a second-rate one an hour away. Apparently some damned convention is in town and they’ve booked all the decent rooms.”

“You mean to tell me they can’t find space for the FBI?” Sparrow asked incredulously. “This country’s gratitude toward law enforcement is overwhelming.”

Grey chuckled.

“Seriously, though, we can do better than that. I’ll have my girlfriend, Sydney, see if she can get you a comped room at her hotel up the street.”

Grey lifted a brow. “I wouldn’t turn my nose up at that offer. But don’t trouble yourself, Officer Sparrow. I’m used to living rough when I work a case.”

“We’ll consider it even if you give us a ride back to the hotel,” Pat replied with a smile. “And by the way, my friends call me Pat or Sparrow—you can take your pick, as long as you drop the ‘Officer’.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, if you’ll lose the ‘Agent’ and call me Grey,” he said with a grin.