Hunter's Blood Special Edition (Cursed by Blood Saga) (24 page)

On the other hand, Martinez’s
curiosity was piqued. Unlike Shaw, whose body language was closed and
defensive, Martinez leaned forward in his chair, his eyes trained exclusively
on hers.

She glanced up at Mark, and at his nod,
continued.

“Regardless of whether you choose to
believe it or not, the truth is, I see things, feel things and know things
others don’t. It’s called parapsychology, and I understand how hard it is to
put faith in anything labeled
beyond normal.
Profiling goes hand in hand
with psychic ability. However, that doesn’t mean I want to be a one-woman show.
I want this to be a team effort.”

Shaw’s face looked as if he’d sucked
on a lemon. He cleared his throat, and with a grunt, shifted in his seat. But
Phillips was resolute, no matter how much the Detective Sergeant resented the
idea. The hierarchy of the police department was a political hornets’ nest, and
perhaps that was the reason for his overblown opposition. His authority had
been subject, and subsequently overruled.

“What can we do to help?” Martinez
asked, obviously ignoring Shaw’s disapproving cough.

Lily ignored him, as well. “I’m a
purist, as Chief Phillips will attest to, and prefer you not to tell me the
specifics. The only thing I need is a jumping-off point. That way, there won’t
be a question about what I learn versus what you’ve told me. It’s the way I do
things, allowing for us to work together rather than against each other…or God
forbid, have the situation become a battle of one-upmanship.”

Phillips’s face was a full-on smirk.
“I see your leave of absence hasn’t tempered you one bit. Good, because we’re
going to need every ounce of that infamous tenacity to solve this case.”

Lily couldn’t help but smile. She
should have known Mark would have her back. “Besides having little evidence and
only D.O.A.s, was there anything about the crime scene, anything unusual that
might give me a place to start?”

“Take a look for yourself,” Phillips
said, gesturing for Martinez to hand over the case file and the Medical
Examiner’s report.

“I thought you
just said you didn’t want specifics,” Shaw objected, crossing his arms in a
huff.

Lily shot him
a look, taking the file from Martinez’s hand. The detective’s fingers brushed
hers in the transfer, and a rush of disjointed images and thoughts spilled into
her mind. She sucked in a breath and locked her narrowed gaze on his.

Phillips
pushed himself up from the edge of his desk. “What? What just happened?”

Lily’s eyes
didn’t leave Martinez’s as she answered. “I need to get to the morgue…now.”

***

The elevator
doors slid closed, and Martinez pushed the button for the ground floor. He
looked straight ahead at nothing, though the weight of Lily’s stare was heavy
and intent.

“How did you
know each victim had been drained dry?”

Martinez’s head whipped around, and
his mouth fell open. She couldn’t have stunned him more if she suddenly grew
scales and swallowed a live rat. Still, she stood unflinching, with her arms
crossed in front of her chest and her eyes fixed on his, almost daring him to
lie.

“I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”

Lily exhaled. “You know exactly what
I’m talking about, and don’t tell me your theory was just an educated guess.
You knew. I saw your thoughts,” she said, her finger jabbing the air between them.

In a heartbeat, she had gone from
teamwork cheerleader to a dagger-eyed complainant. He hadn’t said a word to
anyone about what he had sensed, and he certainly hadn’t included it in the
police report. What was her game?

His guard way up, Martinez pressed his
lips together, collecting himself before he started an all-out war. “First off,
don’t point your finger at me. It’s rude, and I don’t appreciate it. Secondly,
lose the accusatory attitude or this conversation is over. Shaw may doubt your
specialized set of talents, but that doesn’t mean I share his skepticism. I
asked what I could do to help. Remember? He’s the one who wanted to keep things
hush-hush until he was satisfied you weren’t some kind of a kook. I’ll be the
first to admit there’s more to this than what we’re seeing, so why don’t you
just back the hell off?”

Now it was his turn to stare
her
down. Angry, he shrugged into his overcoat, stretching out the tension in his
shoulders and neck. Neither said a word as the elevator opened onto the main
lobby.

He never lost his cool, not even when
he dealt with the rat squad over at Internal Affairs. So why was he allowing
this woman to get under his skin? The chief wanted them to work together, so
he’d play nice with the psychic, even if it meant biting his tongue until he
tasted blood.

“Since I’ve been appointed the
designated driver, I suggest we take one car. Traffic is a mess down here no
matter what time day, and parking is bound to be an issue. My car is in the
municipal lot next door, unless you’d prefer to follow me over. The D.O.A.s for
this case are being held at the morgue at Bellevue Hospital.”

Lily shook her head. “No, it’ll be
easier if I go with you than take my own car. I can always catch a cab home
from there if we’re not needed back this way. If you’ll excuse me, I just need
to make a quick call.” She walked away, already scrolling through the numbers
on her cell phone before Martinez could object.

He watched her expression change from
resolute, to irritated, to sarcastic and back again, before she hung up and
walked back toward him. Great. She was a veritable mood swing acrobat.
Did
Phillips say psychic or psycho? Play nice…you said you’d play nice.

“Ready?” she asked.

The two walked in silence across the
frozen sidewalk, taking the outside elevator to the second level of the parking
garage.

Rows of patrol cars and other official
vehicles were parked on a diagonal across from the elevators. “This way,”
Martinez said, gesturing toward the far corner, and the jet-black Chevy Camaro
parked along the wall. A telltale chirp echoed through the concrete parking
structure as he unlocked the doors. “Get in.”

Lily buckled her seatbelt as he put
the car in gear and backed out of the space. “I’m sorry, Detective. I apologize
for being so abrupt. It’s just, images come unbidden sometimes, and when you
handed me the file…”

She stopped, and Martinez glanced over
to her in the passenger seat.

“It’s okay…I get it. And it’s Ryan.”

“Ryan?”

“My first name. When we’re alone, we
can forego departmental formalities, since you’re not exactly personnel,” he
said, as they headed down the exit ramp and out of the parking garage.

“All right. Will you answer my
question then, Ryan? How did you know about the victims?”

 “I haven’t the faintest idea how
I know what I know,” he said, leaning over the steering wheel, watching for an
opportunity to merge into traffic.

Lily raised an eyebrow. “None?”

“Nope. I just know. It’s been that way
for as long as I can remember. Maybe that means I’m a bit of a psychic too,” he
answered, pulling out into the street.

Her expression soured again.
“Detective Sergeant Shaw will be so impressed. I’ll have to remember to put in
a good word for you with special services.”

“Are you always this pleasant to work
with, or is it just me?”

Lily exhaled sharply, shaking her
head. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually this prickly. It’s just I don’t appreciate
having to work against a stacked deck. Phillips’s word should have been enough,
if you know what I mean.” She paused. “It’s hard enough doing what I do without
having to deal with attitude, as well as red tape.”

He smiled. “Understood. But let’s
remember who’s on which team, okay? That way we keep friendly fire to a
minimum. This case has thrown everyone for a loop, and I for one hope you’re
able to shed some light on what’s happened. You talked about needing a jumping
off point. We have dead bodies and a cold crime scene. That’s it. Anything you
can give us—location, descriptions of faces, vehicles, anything— it would help
a lot.”

“I’ll certainly do what I can.”

Martinez glanced at the petite honey
blonde in his passenger seat, watching again as her face showed everything. For
a psychic and a NYPD profiler, she certainly wore her emotions on her sleeve.
Not that it mattered much.

The buzz around the department said
she was formidable, and not just on the paranormal side. She had the reputation
for being deadly. A triple threat: Smart, beautiful and as good with a gun as
she was with the weird shit nobody wanted to touch.

He inhaled.
God she smelled good.

“Have you always been psychic?”

“No. I woke up one morning after my
parents died and
voilà
.
People said my ability was a gift that God had given me, a way to still talk to
them. But I never could. My talents never ran as far as that until recently.”

He looked directly at her. “What do
you mean? Like channeling the dead?”

“Yes and no. I’m sure you’ve heard
about what happened to my partner. She was killed quite suddenly, and for a
little while, I was able to see and talk to her.”

“No shit! What about now?”

“No. She moved on, went into the
light, or wherever it is spirits go. Since then, nothing. Not that I’m upset
about it or anything. The last thing I need is for my life to turn into the
movie
Ghost Town
.”

“Sounds like it could be pretty cool.
Talking to stiffs would certainly make my job a lot easier.”

Lily smirked. “Yeah. Try living it
sometime.”

Martinez chuckled, pulling the car up
to a red light. He glanced sideways, but rather than finding the amused sarcasm
he expected, Lily’s expression was pensive, and he wondered what shadows
stirred behind her beautiful eyes.

“I just get impressions, you know,
strange smells and such. I hear things too, faint sound too low for most people
to perceive. But even that small hint of the unusual has more than a few people
freaked out, and believe me, I’ve caught flack about it,” he added, pressing a
bit.

He watched her face, surprised at the
empathy he saw there. So the hard-ass paranormal investigator understood what
it felt like to wear a label. No big surprise there, all things considered.

“So, Phillips mentioned you’re pretty
handy with a gun.”

“And reading between the lines. I’d
bet you’re dying to ask why and how, right?”

“Very perceptive. But since you
brought it up…” he chuckled. “Your level of skill isn’t exactly commonplace,
especially for a woman, not unless you’re a covert Special Ops Agent.”

She smiled. “No, nothing as glamorous
as that. My parents died when I was ten. After that, my best friend’s family
took me in and raised me. My foster dad was a real outdoorsman. Hunting,
fishing, camping, you name it—and the rougher the conditions, the better. He
was the original
Survivorman
.

“He believed girls should know how to
protect themselves, but Terry—she wasn’t really into the whole Annie Oakley
thing. I loved it, though. He taught me how to shoot—guns, rifles, bows and
arrows—the crossbow was a favorite of his. And he taught me to be wicked-quick
with a hunting knife, too.”

Ryan caught himself staring at her,
watching her mouth as she spoke. It was warm in the car, and she had unbuttoned
her coat. His gaze traveled from her face and the curve of her jaw, down to
where her cleavage peeked out from the beneath the décolleté of her blouse. Her
chest rose with each breath, her full breasts unconsciously pushing against the
thin fabric. From nowhere, his fingers itched to sample the creamy silk of her
skin, and an image of her straddling him, her back arched and breasts heaving
flashed into his mind. He felt himself grow hard. He blinked, giving his head a
hard shake.
What the fuck…

“You okay?” Lily reached out, touching
his forearm.

His cock jerked at the feel of her
soft fingers, and heat rushed into his groin. An almost uncontrollable urge to
grab her and force her into the backseat, to take her, violently, with or
without consent washed over him. He yanked his arm away, causing the car to
swerve in traffic to the blare of car horns and expletives from other drivers.

“Stay out of my head, Saburi. You were
brought in to investigate the stiffs, not me.” A fine sheen of sweat broke out
across his forehead. Never had he felt such a callous rush where women were
concerned.

Lily pressed her lips together.
“Saburi? What happened to first name basis? I thought we were on the same page
here. And just for the record, I don’t trespass in people’s minds just for the
hell of it. You looked freaked out for a second, that’s all.”

“I’m fine.” His words were clipped and
tight, and he ran the back of his hand across his forehead, as much to clear
his internal tension as clear away his sweat. She unnerved him, and for more
reasons than he cared to admit. Thank God, irritation had trumped her powers of
perception for the moment, and she sat with her arms crossed, waiting for him
to answer. He took a deep breath, but kept his eyes trained on the traffic. “We
are on the same page. However, if you want us to stay that way, I suggest you
keep those antennae of yours pointed away from me.”