Page 25

ADRIAN

I lowered my face to the ocular lens and stared at the glass slide with the help of a microscope, adjusting the magnification until I found what I was looking for and hoping against. Or should I say what I didn’t find?

The lack of a Y-chromosome amongst the cell staining told me exactly what I was dreading. Female. Whoever this blood belonged to, they were genetically female.

I tried to shake away the terror gnawing at my insides. The insecurities I hadn’t felt since I was old enough to stare at myself in the mirror.

The fact I’d been with a woman didn’t mean anything. Statistically, women made up half the population.

Not so statistically , some darker part of me knew the sample could only belong to one person.

And she wasn’t answering any of the text messages I’d been sending her from the burner phone I purchased this morning.

In cash, just to be safe. The last thing I needed was my number popping up in some murder vic’s call log.

I also knew she wasn’t that. Marisela wasn’t just some anything. She meant more to me than I realized until the thought of not having her became a very real possibility.

I wouldn’t have killed her for no reason. I wasn’t bloodthirsty. Just enthusiastic. More experimental than anything else. And half out of my mind on drugs. Which meant things could have gotten out of hand…

I’d wanted to feel inside her. To consume her. But not in any way that would have me pulling a knife and actually cutting into her skin. At least I didn’t think so.

I glanced back down at my phone. Tugging off my gloves and scrolling through the only messages in my log.

ME:

Good morning, princess. Just checking in.

I couldn’t bring myself to use her pet name. Both out of self-preservation and shame.

ME:

I need you to respond, Marisela. Right now.

ME:

This isn’t a game. How are you feeling?

ME:

Are you there? A simple Y or N will suffice.

ME:

Send me a goddamn emoji for all I care. But send me something, Marisela .

I’d lost my cool with that last one. But it was too late now.

There was no taking it back. And I honestly didn’t want to.

If she was fucking with me, it was long past the point of being fun.

Or funny . Considering the extra time I’d spent to measure the sample’s telomeres did more to heighten my anxiety than dispel it.

This blood didn’t just belong to a female. It belonged to a young female. An adult female, forty or under. Likely under.

I swiped the glass slide from the stage clips and tossed it across the room. Watching it shatter as soon as it hit the tile floor. There wasn’t much else it could tell me without running a DNA test. And I didn’t have the time or patience for that.

No, I needed to know what happened last night. Which meant I was breaking the first rule of not getting caught. Returning to the scene of the crime.