Flight from Mayhem (7 page)

Alex finally broke into a light laugh. “She might go easier on you? Oh, girl, we all try that one—depending on what mess we've gotten ourselves into. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Fine. We'll help you. We need a retainer of two hundred dollars, though.”

I glanced at the girl's clothes. They were clean and neat, but not really in style, and her shoes were scuffed. I could sense the conflict running through her. “That two hundred would probably be part of your rent money, wouldn't it?”

She bit her lip, but shook her head. “No, but it's my electricity money and bus fare for the month. I was hoping . . . you might take payments?”

I shot Alex a long look. He rolled his eyes, but shrugged.

“Fine. You can pay us ten dollars a month till it's paid off. How about that?”

As she nodded, a grateful smile on her face, he motioned for her to go with Ralph. “I want you to give Ralph all the information on where exactly you were, and when this all happened. He'll fill out a payment form for you to sign. Then we'll do what we can to track down the critter. Now go on.”
As he shooed her out of the office, with Ralph following her, I closed the door behind them and turned back to Alex.

“You did the right thing.”

He let out a snort but pushed back his chair and motioned for me to join him. I slid behind the desk, facing him as I straddled his lap. Our lips met, and his soft, chill touch registered against my own warm skin. As his tongue slid between my lips, he wrapped his arms around my waist, his hands slipping under my shirt to caress my back. I moaned gently, leaning in, my arms around his neck as the kiss wound on and on. I wanted him—here, now.

Alex pulled away. In a ragged voice: “Lock the door.”

I jumped up and hurried over to the door, locking it. But he was at my back, pressing my breasts against the cool reinforced steel as his lips brushed the back of my neck. I managed to turn around, breathless, my back to the door, and reached down, fumbling for his buckle as he unzipped my jeans. In a flurry of movement, I slid my hand down the front of his pants and wrapped my hand around him. He was thick and hard, and all I could think of was how much I wanted him inside me. My breath short, I gave him a slow squeeze, and—as he moaned—pushed him away as I leaned down to take off my boots and kick off my jeans.

The moment I was free of them, Alex pinned me against the door again, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he cradled my butt. My breasts ached, and I yanked up my shirt. While holding me fast with one hand, he reached for my breast with his other and kneaded the flesh, his fingers pinching my nipple and sending a sharp ache of pleasure knifing through me.

“I wish I could stay with you when sunrise comes.” He pressed his lips against mine, crushing my mouth with his, catching my lip on one of his fangs. A drop of blood welled up and his eyes grew wide as he flicked it away with his tongue, but he didn't press the issue.

My stomach was a barrel of knots as I whispered, “Fuck me before we're interrupted.”

“You want it, love? You want me in you, all hard and sweaty?”

I let out a low laugh. “You don't sweat. Get your cock inside me, Radcliffe.”

Alex shifted, and I slid onto him, my legs still wrapped around his waist. He began to grind against me, his thick, hard shaft driving me back against the door as we rattled it with our rhythmic thumping. I let out a low groan as he filled me full, and then—before I knew what he was doing—we were on the floor and he was above me, shifting as he drove deeper and deeper.

I closed my eyes, the tidal wave of sensation taking me out of myself, out of my head. Everything except his touch melted away. His mouth on my breasts, his body sliding against mine—that cool, icy feel of him deep inside me, stoking my need. My hands were on his back, his muscles taut beneath my fingers as I drew him closer, my breasts pressing against his chest as his hips swiveled until it felt like he was in the very center of my core. He reached down with one hand, fingering me, and the room began to spin as my thoughts vanished and everything became a wash of desire. I tried to catch my breath but couldn't—the hunger was so deep and the ache so vast—and then, like sea foam crashing against the shore, I came, cresting as the wave filled my need.

Alex let out a low moan, his back arching, and then he slumped in my arms, still deep within me, and softly kissed my nose. “My woman.”

I shifted beneath him, kissing him gently. Those two words made me vaguely uncomfortable and yet . . . they made me feel needed. After a moment, I sucked in a long breath and let it out slowly.

“I suppose we had better get dressed. I'm pretty sure Ralph's done with Lydia by now.”

“You always have to be so logical.” But he slowly pushed himself away, then rolled over and let out a satisfied snicker. “Think Ralph might have an eye for the girl?”

“Not really. Ralph will find somebody, don't you worry about that.” I sat up, then pushed myself to my feet. I hadn't planned for sex, but Alex had a box of wet wipes in his desk and I quickly cleaned up, then dressed again as he pulled up his pants and fastened his belt. “I'm not that comfortable, you know. Having sex here. It doesn't feel . . . appropriate.”

“Romantic, aren't you?” But his voice was light, and the bad mood seemed to have passed. “You're right, and really—this shouldn't happen. We should keep it professional at the office. But, damn it, Shimmer. You're so . . . I don't know. Every time I'm around you, all I can think about is how much I want you.” He stroked my arm, then leaned over to kiss me again, this time gently and on the cheek. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, it felt like I was seeing myself reflected in his gaze—lovely and turbulent and slightly wanton. “I like being with you. I like being around you.”

I paused. The tone in his voice felt almost poignant and set my stomach to quivering. But all I said was, “Practicality can be a good thing. I learned that the hard way in the Dragon Reaches.” I kissed him on the nose, and then—making sure everything looked neat and tidy—I unlocked the door. As we headed out to the waiting room, I saw Ralph sitting with Lydia in the conference room.

He flashed us a look that told me he knew exactly what we'd been up to, but said nothing except, “I have all of the information we need from Lydia. I'm going to make certain she gets back to her car all right, and then we should start searching for this creature. From what she tells me, salamanders can be very dangerous.”

The sex haze drained away posthaste. “Yeah, she's right.”

At that moment, the locksmith arrived and Bette took him in hand. Ralph walked Lydia out to her car, while Alex and I glanced over the info that he had taken from her.
Wedgewood Park was near a cemetery. Which meant . . . fresh bodies, possibly, which might just be attractive to a big fiery lizard.

“We should check the Wedgewood Cemetery. Lizards can be scroungers. While you pull up the coordinates on that, I'm going to call Chai and see if he has any advice. If anybody knows anything about salamanders, it's going to be him.” I headed into my office. Truth was, I needed to regroup. As much as I loved my time with Alex, if I didn't get a handle on what our personal rules were, it was going to drive me crazy. This was the third time we'd had sex at the office, and I swore it would be the last. While I wasn't shy or embarrassed, I didn't want to make Bette, or Ralph, or any clients uncomfortable.

Plus, there was another fact I couldn't ignore.

Alex was my boss, and essentially my parole officer. And now, my lover. Things had gotten convoluted very quickly. Hell, I barely knew how I felt about being Earthside, let alone suddenly in a relationship. I had never had a boyfriend in my life, though I had plenty of temporary lovers. No dragon worth his station would ever have considered me as relationship material given my lineage.

I shut the door to my office and dropped into the chair behind my desk. As I swiveled around, staring out into the dark alley, it occurred to me that I had no clue what the hell I was doing. I had no long-term plans. I didn't even know what I would do if they reinstated me to the Dragon Reaches when my time Earthside was over. Even though the Wing-Liege had promised me some sort of standing if I came through this all right, the fact was, I'd always be an orphan and outcaste to the people who mattered. Unless I found my parents—which seemed as far away as the moon. I had left the Lost and Foundling determined to seek out whatever information I could on them. Centuries later, I still had no clue. But then . . . what if I happened to make friends with a dragon who could look into things for me? I knew a couple
of dragons who lived in town. And at least one of them had a great deal of standing in the Dragon Reaches.

The whirl of thoughts was cut short by the jangle of my phone. I glanced at it. Chai.

“Just the person I wanted to talk to, my friend.” I put him on speaker so I wouldn't have to pop in the earbud. I hated that thing.

“I'm cleaning out your refrigerator. When I get done, you won't have any food left—it's all pretty rank. Don't you ever get around to tossing out old stuff?” Chai let out a snort. “So you might want to go shopping unless you're willing to let me fill the fridge after I've cleaned it.”

“All you ever want is spicy food and I don't like it.” That was the truth, too. Spicy food stirred up my stomach and not in a good fashion. Not only did it give me heartburn, but it made me feel gassy and I would puff smoke if I burped loud and deep enough. All dragons did, even if we couldn't breathe flame in human form. “I'll go shopping later. Bette will take me, I guess. Listen, I was going to call you anyway. I need to ask you a question. What do you know about salamanders?”

“They're lizards?” Chai sounded preoccupied.

“I
know
they're lizards. I mean the ones from the Elemental plane of Fire. We've apparently got one loose and running around the city, and now we need to go find it and send it back to its own plane. How would we go about searching for such a creature?”

Somehow, I had my doubts that Alex had thought that far ahead yet. Lydia as good as told us she couldn't banish it back to where it came from, and none of us could. Which meant we were going to need either a higher-powered sorceress, or . . .

“Say, Chai . . .”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You need help. You can't ask me. The djinn thing. I'll be down there as soon as I wash out the shelves here. Remind Alex, Bette, and Ralph not to ask for my help. By now they seem
to have it down, but you never know when somebody's going to slip.” And with that, the line went dead.

Satisfied—Chai could help us all he wanted as long as we didn't ask for it—I set my phone down. At least one thing was going right. And I kept that thought until I stepped out into the outer office to find Bette weeping at her desk, where Chase Johnson—director of the FH-CSI—stood, looking uncomfortable.

B
ette turned to
me, swiveling her chair around. “They found her. They found Marlene.” Her face crumpled, and I realized I had never seen Bette when she was sad. She might be pissed or irritated or even just contemplative, but in the time I had worked for the agency, I had never seen her look this upset.

By
found
, I assumed they meant
body
. I turned to the detective. “Dead?”

“I'm afraid so. Homicide. And this is the tip of a much bigger problem.” He motioned to Alex. “I need to discuss something in private with you and your team. When you're ready . . .” Alex locked the door and turned the
CLOSED
sign around. Wordlessly, Bette looked up at him and he moved to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head gently. The gesture made me want to cry—she looked so bereft.

Chase cleared his throat, and Alex helped Bette stand.
“We'll meet in the lunchroom. Shimmer, will you escort the detective there? Bette and I'll be along in a moment.”

Ralph followed me, with Chase following him. I led them into the lunch room, where I motioned to the coffeepot. “Would you like a cup of coffee, Detective?”

He nodded. “I can fix it myself, thank you.”

I glanced down the hall. Alex was talking to Bette and I could sense the connection between them. It went back years, and I was glad he was here for her. I let them be. “Detective Johnson—”

“Please, call me Chase.” He nodded, not smiling, and the lines on his forehead told me he had seen far too much over the years. “You're . . . Shimmer, right?”

I nodded. Then, because I wasn't sure how much he knew, but I knew he was tight with the D'Artigos, I added, “You probably should know that I'm a dragon, Chase.”

He nodded, a faint smile creeping around the corners of his lips. “I already knew that, Shimmer. I keep close tabs on the Supe community. But thank you for making certain that I was informed.”

“How bad is it?” I nodded toward the door. “Marlene?”

The smile vanished. “Bad, I'm afraid. It's pretty ugly.” He added cream and sugar to his coffee, then sat down to wait. A moment later, Bette and Alex joined us. Bette had dried her tears and now she slumped down in a chair beside me.

“So, let's hear it. I'm ready.” Bette stared at Chase, a resolute look on her face. “I'm older than you think. Older than Shimmer here. So don't worry about shocking me. I just . . . didn't expect her to be dead.”

Chase toyed with his cup, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “We have a problem. I think we have a serial killer on the loose.”

Bette's eyes grew wide. Alex let out a grunt.

“Your friend Marlene is the latest in a series of murders that all follow the same MO. We found her car on the side
of the road, and . . . what was left of her was in the trunk.” He grimaced.

“What . . . was left of her?” Ralph blanched.

Chase sucked in a deep breath. “Her eyes were missing, along with her tongue. We've had three other murders like this—all elderly Fae. All have been killed away from home, and all have been found in the trunks of their own cars, missing their eyes and tongues. Their bank accounts have been wiped out, and any jewelry and small, expensive items have been missing from their houses. In Marlene's case, when you contacted us earlier this morning, we discovered that she should have had close to thirty thousand dollars' worth of jewelry in her house—and we can't find any of it. We checked her bank accounts and they were cleared out this morning, early when the bank opened. She had over one hundred thousand dollars in her savings.”

“Do you know who emptied them? You can't just take that much money out of an ATM.” Alex frowned, sitting back and crossing his arms.

“That's the thing—the bank camera? The film shows Marlene entering the lobby and conducting the transaction. She asked for her funds in a cashier's check two days ago, and they had it ready for her this morning. The film from the first transaction places her there, too, so we know it was her. But the kicker is, the coroner placed her death to be sometime during the night.”

“So it couldn't be her at the bank, unless she has a twin.” I frowned. “You said there were several other murders?”

“Yes, and in every case, we have the murder victim clearing out their account, when they were unquestionably . . . already dead.” Chase swallowed, hard. “We're at a loss. I've worked with Supes for years now. Hell, I'm even a small part elf myself—I found that out not long ago. But this has us stumped. And we can find nobody who has a connection to all four of the murders.”

“You mean that none of the victims have any friends in common?” Ralph frowned. “That seems unlikely.”

“Oh, they have friends in common, but everybody has an alibi. We even thought maybe that some necromancer animated the bodies, but a reanimated corpse wouldn't be able to pass for normal at the bank—not if they were zombies or ghouls.” Chase let out a long sigh. “I wondered, since you personally know one of the victims, if you might know anything else about what was going on in her life. Detectives—and those who work for them—often make better witnesses than civilians.”

Bette nodded, lighting up a cigarette. “She was talking a lot about a new boyfriend. A boy toy. Douglas Smith. I told your men about him and they put out an APB on him.”

“Right. We haven't been able to trace him anywhere. And the name doesn't ring a bell with any of the other victims' families. However . . .” Chase paused. “We do have a potential connection. All of the other victims had recently become romantically involved with new liaisons. We have a list of names to check out. We're thinking maybe there's a ring of thieves—well, murderers now—targeting specific wealthy, elderly Fae.” He pulled out a little notebook from his suit jacket and opened it. “I was wondering if any of these names ring a bell.”

“Let's hear them.” Bette leaned forward, and Alex reached out to pat her gently on the shoulder.

“Mary Little.”

“Mary? A woman?”

“Yes, as far as we know, she had recently become involved with an elderly forest Fae gentleman named Victor Goldwater. He lived out near Mount Rainier and was found in the trunk of his car, on Aurora Boulevard. Again, his eyes and tongue were missing. He was worth over two hundred thousand dollars.” Chase slapped the notebook on the table. “Damn it. This just makes me fucking sick.”

“There are some pretty sick people out there.” Alex
glanced over at me, giving me a soft smile. “Shimmer, you doing okay?”

“I've seen some rough stuff in my life, too. Yeah, I'm all right.”

Bette shook her head. “Don't recognize the name, not at all. But Victor . . . I knew him, or rather, I was acquainted with him. What about the other two?”

“Wisteria te Verisa, from Otherworld. Had at least a couple hundred thousand in gold jewelry—all gone. Her neighbor said she had recently become involved with a man named Ralph Savage.”

Again, Bette shook her head. “No . . . no bells on Savage, but Wisteria, yes.”

“Lissel Hansburg, Earthside Fae from Norway. Older woman, recently dating a man named Kort Vanderberg. Worth one hundred and fifty thousand.”

“Lissel, yes. Kort, nothing.” Bette's lips were tight, pale. “All four of the victims frequented the Supe Community Action Council. I met them all there.”

I pulled out my notepad. “So, we have four victims, all killed in the same manner, and with the same mutilations. All four were elderly Fae recently involved with a younger person—none of them the same person. Are we sure that the names weren't changed?”

“But there were two women, and two men,” Bette asked, then stopped. “Though good makeup and dresses can do wonders for some guys, I guess.”

“I think . . . we've got descriptions from Lissel and Wisteria's friends. The guy doesn't sound remotely the same in the looks department. No, I think we're dealing with a ring, with four different partners who have found a lucrative, albeit deadly, avocation.” Chase let out a sigh. “Did you
see
this Douglas, by chance? Marlene doesn't seem to have had many friends and we have no description of him.”

Bette shook her head. “Sadly, no. I wish I had taken her up on her invitation to go to dinner with them, now.” She
paused. “But that doesn't explain how the four victims showed up at their banks to clear out their accounts after they were killed.”

“No, it doesn't. Will you keep your ear to the door?” Chase sucked down the rest of his coffee. “I really don't know what to do. We have dusted every one of their houses for prints and damn if we haven't found a thing out of place. Everything checks out—well, we're still working the prints from Marlene's house.”

“How long of a time frame has this been going on? Are they all like a blitz attack?” Alex was looking perturbed. “Something's not tracking at all for me, and I can't put my finger on it.”

“That's the curious thing. No. These murders have taken place over the past six weeks. First was Wisteria. Then Victor, then Lissel, and now Marlene.” Chase shrugged.

“And where did they live? Ralph, can you pull up a map and let's chart their houses.”

Ralph nodded. “Let's go into the conference room so I can do it on the Holo.”

I frowned. I'd seen his baby, the Holo, in action a couple of times and I still found it fascinating. Ralph was a genius, and he had created a number of gadgets that had patents pending on them. We made full use of them. Most of them were too sophisticated for the agency's needs, but now and then something struck just the right chord.

We followed him into the conference room, where he moved to a lectern at the back of the room and within minutes, a full-size map of the area appeared in brilliant topographical imagery on the clear plastic screen at the front of the room. We could draw on the screen with dry-erase markers, or Ralph could use a stylus and a touch screen to do so.

Chase let out an appreciative whistle. “Whoa . . . I want one of these.”

Ralph let out a laugh. “Glad you like it.”

“I'm serious. This is dynamite. What can you do with it?”

“Let's show you. Give me the addresses of the victims.” Ralph tapped away on a keyboard as Chase read him off the four addresses. Within a few seconds, four sections on the map began to glow with a gentle red light. Ralph zoomed out so that all four residences were in view, but we were also seeing a close-up view of them on the sides of the map. “Let me triangulate their coordinates to see if we have any sort of a pattern.”

A moment later, a series of lines connected the houses, but there wasn't any sort of pattern that seemed to show itself. The mileage between them flashed on the upper left hand of the screen, but that didn't seem to show any correlation, either. None of them were in the same city proper. Marlene was in Seattle, Wisteria had been up in Belles-Faire, Victor had been out by Mount Rainier, and Lissel lived in Renton.

“I've got nothing.” Ralph stared at the screen, then went back to tapping the keys. “Nothing in terms of numerological connections—the addresses themselves don't follow a pattern. What about their races? They all seem to be different types of Fae.”

“Right.” Chase frowned. “That's one link. So far, all of them have been Fae, but three were Earthside. Wisteria was an Otherworld citizen who had moved here to be near her granddaughter who came over here last year. No Weres, so far. No vamps. No other Supes. Nothing but Fae.”

“I wonder if that's chance, or deliberate.” I played with my pen, staring at the map. “So we have nothing to connect the murders, except the victims were all elderly Fae, and they had money. We have four suspects, none of whom you can find—”

“It's not just that we can't find these people. It's that they don't
exist
. Oh, there are a lot of Doug Smiths, don't get me wrong, but trying to put a finger on anybody who has heard of them since the murders, or has seen any sign of them? Nada.” Chase pushed himself to his feet. “I have my hands full with another situation, which just seems to be getting
worse and worse, and frankly, my men are spread thin. Which is why I wanted to ask you if you'd be willing to look into this. The department can't afford to outsource much, but we'll do what we can to turn business your way—unofficially—if you can help us figure out what the hell is going on.”

I knew this wasn't standard procedure, but I also had figured out that—with the Fae coming out of the closet, along with the other Supes—SOP had gone by the wayside on a number of things. This wasn't old-school law enforcement.

Alex cocked his head to the side, staring at the detective, then gave him a short nod. “Will do. We'll help out pro bono and if you happen to find a few cases that you can send our way, we'd be much obliged. Bette and Marlene were friends. This is the least we can do.”