Night Games (18 page)

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Authors: Crystal Jordan

BOOK: Night Games
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“That’s the big news?” Selina couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice. So far, none of the victims—male or female—had been sexually assaulted.
“No, all of that was what I’d expect. The weird thing was that there was no saliva in the wounds on their necks. I thought I’d find some. I hoped that it would give us some DNA to compare to if we ever got a suspect, but there was no saliva in, on, or around the wounds.”
“He cleaned up after himself.” Peyton arched his eyebrows.
She shook her head. “That would explain why there wasn’t saliva on or around the bite wounds, but there should have been some
in
the wounds. However, I
did
find traces of some kind of metal in the wounds. I’m looking into what kind of metal now, but I thought you’d like to know what I’d discovered so far.”
Jack frowned, splaying his hands on the table. “So, it’s possible he’s using something to cover his fangs. A mouth guard of some kind?”
“It’s possible.” She seesawed her hand through the air. “I’m not sure how else a vampire would keep saliva out of the wound. There’s a certain amount of transfer when they bite someone.” She sighed. “This means not only no DNA, but there’s no way to match the bite marks without the mouthpiece he’s using. Just a dental imprint won’t help me. He might be altering where his fangs would strike the flesh, the curve of the fangs. Damn it.”
Jack looked as if he wanted to beat his head against the table. “Which means we may not even be looking for a vampire. Just someone who wants us to think he’s a vampire.”
“It might explain why our guy can cast spells well enough to get through security shields. Vampires suck at casting.” Selina drummed her fingers against the table, thinking about what this new twist might mean for nailing any possible suspects. Like Gregor. Every new piece of information just seemed to leave them deeper in the dark. Fuck. Impotent rage roiled inside of her, a dark, icy thing that was beyond her control.
“I don’t know about that.” Delta appeared in the doorway, her gaze thoughtful. “Let me look into it, but draining victims completely has very specific symbolic meaning to vampires. And none of your victims are vampires, which could mean he’s protecting his own. The Conclave deals very harshly with those who turn on their own kind. All of this indicates to me that your guy is deeply steeped in vampire culture, ethics, prejudices, and taboos.” She shrugged. “Let me put together my profile, and I’ll be able to give you more.”
“Thanks, Delta. And thank you, Tess.” Selina blew out a frustrated breath. Two steps forward, three steps back. They were just chasing their tails.
9
J
ack had been staring at the computer for hours, and his eyes burned. The words were starting to blur, he’d been looking at them so long. The pieces were there, he just needed to put them together. Every answer they found seemed to lead to more questions rather than to a conclusion with a solid profile and a list of possible suspects.
The number of victim photographs now stretched off his whiteboard and were taped on the walls in his office. He swiveled his chair to look at them again. Nothing about them appeared the same. They had everything from a preteen witch with a human stepmother to a Normal retiree who’d been married to a Fae for sixty years. They lived in different cities and countries, had none of the same acquaintances, habits, or characteristics. The retiree had been murdered before the witch was even born. They’d never met, their families didn’t know each other, and comparing the other victims made for similar lacks of similarity. Jack wouldn’t be surprised if their killer had chosen them for that very reason. The only thing they had in common was the interrelation between Magickals and Normals. They could also solidly place Gregor Night in different places during the time period where the killer needed to have been operating for at least two of the cities. It didn’t totally rule him out, but it put a kink in the theory that the redheaded vampire was their murderer. Jack clenched his fists and resisted the urge to put his fist through the wall. It felt like they were getting
nowhere.
“Fuck.”
“Well, hello to you, too.” Selina stepped into his office and sank into her usual chair. Her shoulders bowed, and she looked as spent as he felt.
He wanted to reach for her, but knew she wouldn’t allow it. Her separation between work and her personal life meant even a casual touch was taken the wrong way. Hell, he could clap Peyton on the shoulder with less of a problem. Jack’s fists clenched, but he forced himself to shake them loose. It was the exhaustion weighing him down. Friends with benefits, remember? He was getting exactly what he wanted, so he should be more than satisfied with that. He shrugged the tension out of his shoulders.
“Come on.” Selina grabbed her bag and slung it across her torso, sliding to her feet again. “You’re done for the night. I can see it on your face.”
“I think—”
She sighed. “Look, I’m as much a workaholic as the rest of them, so when I say you’re done, I’m not trying to baby you. We need to be at full capacity for this case. Falling on your face in exhaustion won’t help anyone. Go home.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her to come with him, but he resisted. His door was standing open for anyone to overhear them. Their affair was a secret, and suddenly that chafed a lot more than it should. He knew all of her reasons, he even agreed with most of them, but right now, he didn’t give a damn about any of that. He was tired of worrying about whether people would infer that his actions toward her meant anything. He was tired of worrying if
she
would assume people were assuming. The reaction was irrational, so he tamped down on it. Shooting from his chair, he snatched up his jacket and swept out the door. “Lock up behind you.”
She followed him, and he heard his door
whoosh
closed and lock, courtesy of her magic, no doubt. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, just have a lot on my mind. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but then she closed it. Yeah, that gag order of hers put the kibosh on a lot of things, didn’t it? Instead of saying anything, he turned for the elevator.
When he was in his car and driving toward home, he realized he didn’t want to crawl into bed alone. A handful of nights with Selina were enough to addict him to having the feel of her wrapped around him while they slept. “Crap.”
He sighed and made a left turn toward one of his favorite restaurants. Not one his cousins owned. This one was a hole in the wall, mom and pop joint with good service and great food. It was also open late, which meant he didn’t have to worry about when he dragged himself away from work. They’d be open.
The familiar neon sign that blazed the name TRUDY’S looked fuzzy in the Seattle fog, and he had to search to find a parking space out front. This place was always packed. It didn’t matter what time of day he showed up. The locals loved this diner.
A petite waitress looked up when he walked in. A grin spread across her face. “Hey, Jack. Sit anywhere that’s free. I’ll bring you some coffee.”
He headed for the only empty booth in the room. “Thanks, Sandy.”
Trudy’s had the classic décor of a 1950s diner, and for all he knew, this was the authentic design. It definitely had the feel of having been in business that long. He sighed and sank into the comfortable hubbub of the place. People talked and laughed, a couple of old curmudgeons who seemed to have taken up permanent residence at the counter were hunched over cups of coffee. Those two guys were here every time he’d been in. Which was a lot since he’d moved to Seattle.
“Laramie.” The soft sound of Selina’s voice had him twisting around in his booth to look at her. The tiredness had finally gotten to him. He was hallucinating. No way was she here.
But she was. The thick fog outside had left droplets of water in her hair, which sparkled in the light. He blinked up at her, then leaned back and gave her a lazy grin. “Stalking me, Detective Grayson? I thought unless my mother waylaid you, or we were grabbing takeout, you were too scared to be seen with me in public outside of work.”
“No, I’m
not
scared. You know my reasons for keeping our affair quiet, so don’t play the injured party now. And I damn well didn’t stalk you.” She huffed and slid into the booth opposite him, dropping her bag on the seat. “I didn’t even tail you here.”
Sandy came bustling up, two steaming cups in her hands, which she plopped on the table in front of them. “Be back to take your orders in a second.”
When she was gone, Jack turned back to Selina. “Oh, yeah? You just happened to walk into my favorite diner in the city only a few minutes after I did?”
She arched her eyebrows and glanced around. “This is your favorite diner?”
“Yep. Aside from my cousins’ places, of course. I have to say that out of family loyalty.” He propped his elbows on the table. “But this place has the best pot roast on the planet.”
A faint smile creased her lips. “Won’t your mother or grandmother be offended by that statement?”
“Mom’s not much of a cook. She likes the pot roast here, too.” He shrugged and added sugar to his coffee. “Both my grandmothers died before I was born. My paternal grandfather passed about five years ago. So, there’s just Grandpa Jack left.”
“Your namesake, I take it?”
“Yep.” He rubbed a hand over his hair. “What about your grandparents? What were they like?”
She ran a finger around the rim of her coffee mug. “Well, I was born in the Renaissance, so I’m sure they were people who dealt with bad hygiene and no indoor plumbing.”
“You think that’s what they were like, or you know?”
Her gaze was wary when she looked up at him. “What does that mean?”
His impatience with the status quo of their relationship made her response grate on his nerves. “You throw these little factoids out to distract people—
I was a nurse in World War II, I was an artist, I lived in France and New Orleans, I was born in the Renaissance.
It’s all an illusion that you’re open about yourself. Tell me something
real,
something that you wouldn’t tell some Magickal you met at a bus stop.”
Her mouth worked for a moment. “I never knew any of my grandparents.”
“No? How old were you when they passed?”
“My mother and her sister were orphaned pretty young, and I never knew who my father was, so ... I also never knew anything about his family. Including his parents.” Her brow furrowed as if she regretted caving to the pressure to answer more personal questions.
Well, that was just too damn bad, wasn’t it? “Were your mom and aunt close?”
“No.” She shook her head and stared down at her coffee. “My mom died before I came of age, but my aunt had disowned her before I was born. No one ever said why, but it was implied that it was because my mother hooked up with a married man and got pregnant.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.” She tapped her fingers against the table. “I don’t really talk about—”
“Do you have any other family?” He cut her off without a qualm. As though he’d let her bail out on the conversation now. He had a serious fascination about her, and nothing was going to quench that except more information. The tenacity made him good at his work, but it was a character trait he didn’t bother to repress in his personal life either. At the moment, Selina crossed over into both territories.
“No family.” Her jaw worked for a moment. “My aunt was the last to go, and she despised me. She had to take me in—the family bastard—when Mother died, and she liked to point out how useless an extra, unwed female was. Though she wasn’t above making me her daughter’s nanny until I moved out.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, I guess. They’re all gone now.”
That hit him hard. He knew what it was like to lose a parent and a wife. That was difficult enough to deal with, and they weren’t even the last of his family. He still had people to call his own. It occurred to him that while he’d been lonely in his life, he had no idea what it was like to be totally ... alone. Without any connections to anyone. Sympathy squeezed his chest, and he wanted to pull her into his arms and promise her she wasn’t alone anymore.
The urge startled him. He hadn’t felt that kind of desire to comfort and protect since ... his wife. He slammed the door on that thought, rejecting it, and instead focused on the woman before him. A woman who was nothing if not the polar opposite of the one he’d married.
“Shit.” He reached over and covered Selina’s hands with his. They weren’t at work, so she could just deal with it. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“Thanks. Me too.” She squeezed his fingers and then withdrew. As she always did. Frustration crawled through him, and he tamped down on that, too. So many reactions when it came to Selina. Overreactions, too. It wasn’t just the sex that was intense—it was everything.
She cleared her throat and grabbed a laminated menu from the rack on their table. “Anyway. You say the pot roast is good?”
“The best.”
“Okay, then. I’ll try that.” She flipped the menu over and ran her fingertip over the dessert section.
“Got a sweet tooth, Grayson?”
She glanced up and met his gaze, and the look on her face sent fire shooting straight to his loins. The moment stretched, grew hotter. His body tightened, and despite any earlier irritation, inevitable lust punched through him. It was all he could do not to drag her out of the restaurant and have her in his car. He wasn’t even sure he could wait until they got home. His cock grew hard, and his hands clenched on the tabletop as he fought the need to touch her. She did nothing to help him as the corners of her mouth curled up in a grin that said she knew exactly what he was thinking, which meant her thoughts had gone along the same lines. Her breathing sped, lifting her breasts into view. Her nipples were tight, and he wanted to suck them, bite them until she begged him for more. Her eyes gleamed, and her fingers continued to stroke over the menu in front of her. He wanted those hands stroking him.
Staring at his lips, she licked hers. “I like it sweet sometimes, yes.”
He opened his mouth to make a purely sexual reply when Sandy came back to take their orders. Food was the last thing on his mind right now, and he was more than ready to leave it at the coffee, but Selina smiled at the waitress. “We’ll both have the pot roast dinner.”
“Soup, salad, or fries with that?”
“Salad for me, with Italian dressing.” Selina gave him an assessing look. “I’m betting fries for him.”
“Jack always has the fries.” Sandy didn’t even glance up as she scribbled on her order pad. “He likes to dip them in the gravy.” She winked at him. “I’ll be by to top off your coffee in a few.”
“Thanks, Sandy.” He reeled in his lust. Later. He’d have Selina under him, moaning and screaming his name later. At the moment, he needed to think of something else. “So, how did you find me if you weren’t stalking or tailing?”
“I don’t know.” She took a swig of her coffee. “I was just driving around. It helps me think sometimes.”
“You were just driving around and randomly said, hey, that place looks tasty.” He couldn’t keep the disbelief from his voice. “You didn’t see my car outside, maybe?”
“No, I didn’t.” Another sip of the coffee and she seemed to have finished the cup. Shrugging, she stared into the bottom of the empty mug. “I had a feeling this place would have something good inside. I get feelings sometimes. I just know things.”
It warmed him that deep down, she considered him “something good.” He decided not to point it out to her. If she hadn’t noticed, it said a lot. If she had noticed, she wouldn’t be pleased he rubbed her nose in it. Nope, better to let it ride.
“So, you have claircognizance?” He pitched his voice low enough that she had to lean toward him to listen.

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