Midnight Ash (A Blushing Death Novel) (11 page)

BOOK: Midnight Ash (A Blushing Death Novel)
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I smiled back at Derek as he strode up to the tape, ignoring the pissed-off vampire somewhere behind me.

“Hey, Kid. You should be at home. I’m just glad this wasn’t you,” he offered, his smile falling as he glanced by me at my house three doors down.

He didn’t realize how lucky I was. It should have been me, could’ve been me if Danny and I hadn’t high-tailed our asses out of there. “I need to ask for a favor,” I asked, clearing my throat. I could think about the guilt later.

“I’m kinda busy here.”

“That’s what the favor’s about.” I took a moment and a few quick breaths, trying to slow my thundering heart before I asked the impossible. “I need to look at the body.” The words fell from my lips and I stepped back, out of reach. He grasped for my arm, reaching for me. I managed to dodge his grip. I wasn’t about to be dragged around by a cop with no way to defend myself without going to jail. Best to just stay out of reach.

“Are you crazy?” he asked in hushed antagonism. He motioned for me to move off to the side where no one could hear us. I followed but stayed at least an arm length back. “I can’t just let you stroll up next to a body at a crime scene. What the hell do you need to see the body for anyway?” He eyed me, waiting for an answer to a question I couldn’t provide.

I had to come up with something quick. I didn’t have a plausible excuse except for the truth and that was a problem. The truth was that a ninja vampire assassin was gunning for me and had quite possibly killed poor Mrs. Corning. Yeah, that’s not something you spring on a guy in the middle of the street, especially a cop. He would probably have me hauled away to the loony bin. I’d already seen the inside of a psych ward and I wasn’t anxious to go back.

“Look, I promise to tell you everything but tonight I need to get a look at that body. My life and the lives of others depend on it.” That was all I could say without causing an even bigger scene.

He pursed his lips, his large bottom lip sticking out just a bit further than the upper. His gaze raked over me from head to toe as he evaluated me, deciding.

“I swear. This is important, Derek. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.”

He sighed with a defeated shake of his head. I think he wanted to say “hell no” and be done with it but he knew me well enough to know I wouldn’t ask without a reason. A pretty damned good reason, too.

“I can bring you under the tape and take your statement but what happens when the statement is finished is up to you,” he said, lifting the tape for me to duck under. That was the best I was going to get and more than I’d expected.

I ducked under the tape and followed him. The forensic guys, who were still taking pictures of the body, unzipped a body bag, preparing the body for transport. I’d have to be quick. There wasn’t a whole lot of time left before my window of opportunity closed.

Derek took a deep breath and turned worried eyes on me just before he look around over my shoulder. “So, Ms. Sabin, what did you see?” he asked, his tone professional and matter-of-fact. A tone that was all cop.

“Ah, nothing. Danny and I left my house at about 6:30 p.m. and there was no one on the street at that time. It was quiet. We just got back a few minutes ago.”

He handed the pad to me and I signed and dated it.

“When?” Derek hissed.

“Meet me at Damsel at 8:30 p.m. We’ll talk then.”

He nodded once and turned his back on me. I was on my own.

People hustled in every direction and my path to Mrs. Corning’s body was blocked at every turn by uniforms, crime scene techs, and flashing bulbs from the media sneaking behind the tape. I walked, my head held high as I nodded to whoever caught my eye, convincing them I was supposed to be there. I couldn’t get caught before I got to the body. After, sure but not before.

The coroner bagged up Mrs. Corning and carried her away before I could get within twenty feet of the body. I stood frozen in place, completely fucked.

What the hell am I going to do now?
I can’t break into the city morgue. Can I? No, that’s ridiculous.

As I berated myself, I failed to notice the lanky ginger guy strolling by.

That voice hummed in my mind and my neck snapped up to meet deep chocolate brown eyes. A push of soft, comforting warmth that was almost too soft to notice as it brushed against my face.

“Excuse me,” he said, turning to gawk at me.

“No problem,” I replied. I turned my head away but noticed the camera clutched in his hand and the badge reading, ‘
Taggar’
across his chest. He was uploading the pictures he’d taken onto the laptop lying powered up on the table. I peered over his shoulder to all the gruesome pictures displayed on screen as they uploaded. The coroner’s office definitely didn’t pay for speed in their computers as megabyte by megabyte crawled across the task bar.

Puncture marks sporadically marred Mrs. Corning’s body. I counted quickly before the picture disappeared, one, two, three, four. Seven or eight sets of teeth marred her skin but I couldn’t be sure as the upload sped up. The pictures of Mrs. Corning’s head were gruesome. The stroke across her neck was deliberate, without hesitation, a single, clean slice that separated her head from her body. The blade, whatever it was, had taken her head off.

The pictures continued to flicker across the screen, revealing her torso. “Wait!” I called out. The ginger tech turned to peer at me with a quizzical eye and stepped in front of the screen.

Shit! Caught.


Who
are you?” he asked, his gaze narrowed on me and his nostrils flared. I ignored his question and continued with my own.

“There’s a hole in her chest,” I said, pointing to the laptop around Ginger’s wide but somehow scrawny chest. He appeared frail, like he needed to put on about thirty pounds of muscle. I stared him square in the eye with my shoulders back, my chin up, and took a step toward him. “What caused that?” I asked, pointing toward the screen.

“What are you doing here? Who are you?” he asked me again. He seemed rattled as he glanced over my shoulder and motioned with a jerk of his head to the uniform cops on the other side of the crime scene. I kept my mouth shut as the uniforms approached. I’d been caught. Time to make this work to my advantage if I could. I was just hoping to get out of this without getting arrested.

Both officers were of equal size and weight, as if they had come off the police officers assembly line specially made for the uniform. The two men stood, stiff, imposing, and controlled with an intimidating expression on each of their faces as they peered down at me.

“Miss, what are you doing here?” he bit out.

The ginger tech closed the laptop, tucked it under his arm, and walked away before I could ask him any more questions. And I had a few. He managed a confused glance over his shoulder at me before drifting out of sight and around the coroner’s van.

I shifted my attention to the two uniform problems standing before me like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum with itchy trigger fingers. They had nothing on me, yet. And they wouldn’t, if I could keep my cool.

“I gave my statement and was asked to wait,” I answered. “Mrs. Corning was a nice woman. Why did this have to happen?” I added, false panic making my voice quaver as a tear left a hot trail down my cheek.

I had to focus. Hell, might as well confess and get some sympathy out of it. “Then I stumbled over here and saw those horrible pictures.” I sniffled a little for effect. My act was working on one of the uniforms, at least. His eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed as his hand slipped from the holster at his hip. He definitely had a wife or a sister somewhere.

The other one wasn’t buying it. I needed to get out of there before the smart one started asking questions. Especially questions I couldn’t answer.

“Can I please go? I didn’t see anything. I don’t know why I was told to wait.”

“Miss, do you remember who took your statement?” the skeptical officer asked. I wasn’t about to get the only link to the police force I had in trouble. Better to sound flaky.

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t remember his name.” I wiped the tear from my cheek.

“You shouldn’t be here, Miss,” the other uniform offered. He took my arm in a gentle grasp and escorted me away. He led me to the perimeter of the crime scene, picked up the yellow tape for me, and smiled reassuringly.

“Thank you,” I whispered. I turned and strolled back to my house with an easy gait, careful not to run and show just how thankful I was that I had escaped.

Patrick was waiting on the porch as I approached. He had a wicked grin on his face as he softly clapped his approval. I climbed the three steps to meet him but noticed there was still distance between us and more than just space.

“Bravo,” he cooed with a smirk tugging at his full lips. He was so stinking cute when he smirked. I smiled back at him and took a little curtsy on the front porch. Of course he’d be watching. He was and always had been watching. I couldn’t help but be a smartass. It’s my nature.

“Can we go in, I’m freezing,” I said, breezing by him.

“Dahlia,” he growled and the tone of his voice tightened my chest. “We need to discuss this.”

“I know,” I breathed, trying to stop the ache in my chest that almost crippled me. I met the dark intensity of his eyes and saw the hurt shining there and the disappointment. I opened my front door and left the hurt behind. There wasn’t time for pain and betrayal. Maybe later.

Jade, Kurt, Nova, and Danny were already waiting in my living room. My full house seemed to get smaller and smaller by the day. It was bad enough that six people were in my living room but worse that four of those people were larger-than-life supernatural beings and took up more space than their actual bodies. Two of whom had a gripe with each other.
Perfect.

Aggression tingled through the air, static and tangible. I could almost taste the negative energy as I gasped at the tingle of their power along my skin. The energy clashed, warm into cool, making the hair on my body stand on end in static. Violence percolated just under the surface as Patrick and Danny shared the same space.

“Someone should probably order a pizza or something. I don’t think I have enough food for everyone,” I spat. Anything to distract the crowd from the growing tension in the room. I removed my coat and scarf and hung them in the closet, distracted, as I glanced over my shoulder at them.

“You don’t. I ate the last of the pasta this afternoon,” Danny said, plopping down on my sofa and picking up the remote, throwing his comfort level up in Patrick’s face.

Jackass
. I didn’t need this bullshit.

I shot Jade an imploring glare, hoping she could help. She whipped out her cell phone and dialed the local pizzeria, turning her back on us with a look on her face that said,
You are on your own
.

Great, just fucking great
.

She strolled into the kitchen, Kurt hot on her heels.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need six large pizzas and a couple of two-liter Cokes.” Her voice drifted off as she moved farther away.

“Get mushrooms,” Danny yelled after her. Sometimes he didn’t know what was good for him. Right now, he needed to sit there and shut the fuck up.

“What did you find out?” Patrick asked with a soft growl, making his usually smooth voice rough and dangerous.

I brushed my hand against Patrick’s, squeezing his fingers as I brushed by him. I felt as if I needed to reassure him, to remind him how important he was to me.

Danny growled low in the back of his throat, throwing the remote he held in his hand straight at Patrick’s head. I knew in that moment that I’d fucked up in so many ways. The remote became a blur of black as it sailed through the air, whistling as it passed my head, missing by inches.

Patrick snatched the remote from the air only milliseconds before it would have crashed into his perfect, angular nose. He’d used as much effort to swat the remote away as I would a fly. Patrick lowered his hand, tension filling his lithe frame as his shoulders squared for a fight. A low rumble vibrated in his chest that made the hairs on the nape of my neck tingle with the beginnings of something horrible.

“Enough!” I snapped as I stepped between them. My jaw clenched and my hands balled into tight fists at my side. The sound of my voice came from deep in my diaphragm, vibrating a power that I didn’t know I’d had. Even to me it sounded like it’d come from the shadows of hell. Both men’s eyes focused on me in alarm . . . confusion . . . disbelief. I couldn’t tell which and I didn’t care.

I breathed deep and closed my eyes. “I need you to stop,” I said with a forced calm that I didn’t feel as I opened my eyes again. “We have to come to some understanding here. All three of us. If one of you or both of you can’t handle this situation, don’t want to share, and want to go . . . then go. Now’s the time.
Now
is the time,” I repeated, my voice harsh and unwelcome.
I’d fucked up. I knew that
. I should have just ended it with Danny months ago but something kept drawing me back. Now, the entire situation was a clusterfuck and it was
all
my fault.

I needed both of them so much that it scared me but I also needed them with a clear head. I was worried, tired, but mostly I had a sneaking suspicion I wasn’t going to make it through this one. I didn’t want to fight with them, not when there was so little time left.

“We should discuss what you found out this evening,” Patrick said, changing the subject with a quick nod of acceptance and resignation.

I nodded, releasing the heavy breath I’d been holding with relief.
I could do this. I could go on like nothing happened and we were all hunky dory, right? Yeah, I could do that.
I pulled myself together and retreated into myself, letting them all see the hard edge that the rest of the world knew as the Blushing Death.

“There were seven, maybe eight puncture points with barely a drop of blood anywhere. There should’ve been so much more,” I whispered, almost to myself, as I gazed down at the floor. The images were still fresh in my mind and I couldn’t separate the pictures from Mrs. Corning.
It was a body, not a person. It was a scattering of limbs and gore, not the sweet old lady down the street.

“Why?” Danny asked.

“They drained her first,” I said. “Her head was cut clean off and she had a big gaping hole in her chest like someone reached in and ripped her heart out,” I snapped, frustration making my voice harsher than I’d intended. Danny sat back on the loveseat. His lips disappeared into a thin line. He didn’t say another word.

“Her heart?” Patrick asked. He cleared his throat and glanced at me as he cocked a dark eyebrow. “Middonaitoshoo Asshu takes her victim’s hearts as a trophy.”

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