Page 33

CELINE

P olice lights flash, casting shadows on the surrounding buildings.

A forensic photographer’s camera flashes, blending in with the reds and blues. The bloody scene is just as much of a massacre as every other time this serial killer has struck.

A stray flash of heat rolls through my body as I approach Captain Barnes.

Flustered from the elevator earlier and needing distance from whatever that was, I drove as fast as humanly possible on the way here.

Thankfully, Zavier took pity on me and didn’t say anything else about it in the car.

Feeling his dominating aura in such an enclosed space afterwards, though, was torture.

Holding the caution tape above my head and ducking under, I cast one last glance back at my car. True to his word, Zav sits in the passenger seat like a seemingly perfect angel. His tall form looks hilariously normal folded into the vehicle and at the same time too ethereal for this world.

Zav must feel my eyes on him because he tilts his head in my direction and smirks.

He waves mockingly and I shoot him my best no-nonsense glare to which he only grins more.

Shiny white teeth sit in a perfect row, no fangs to be found.

I roll my eyes and try to forget he’s on the scene with me when he definitely shouldn’t be.

“You okay, Brennan? You’re not supposed to be here. Time off, remember?” He arches a scolding brow in my direction. “Do you feel up to being here?”

His concern is sincere. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I kick a rock that sits right in front of my boot.

“I’m good as I can be. That’s not to say it’s not shocking but I’ve been distracted for the most part.

But I heard there was another crime from the Mayhem Murderer so I wanted to be here to see it first-hand.

” I’m sure he knows Ava blabbed to me, who else would have, but I don’t want to explicitly throw her under the bus.

If I’m honest with myself, it’s been kind of nice not working and the small voice in the back of my head that says I should think about a career change is getting louder and louder.

It makes me feel guilty thinking that way, and I shake my head at the thought for now.

It’s not something I have time to dwell on at the moment.

Captain Barnes glances at my car and back to me before he nods. It’s impossible for him not to notice Zavier, but he doesn’t comment on the giant six-foot-plus man squished into my tiny car.

“I wish I had a better update for you, but we’re still trying to locate the bastard who broke in.

We spotted him on a CCTV downtown at one of the clubs, but we haven’t gotten a name yet.

” A folded-up photo crinkles in his hand when he pulls it out of his back pocket.

Sure enough, the same hooded figure can be seen in the darkness of night slipping into the back door of none other than Vex.

My lips part in surprised horror.

This has to have something to do with my suspicions surrounding the club. Nothing else makes sense.

Mistaking my silence for fear, Captain Barnes rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Celine. I promise we’ll find him.”

I nod and clear my throat. “I appreciate it, sir. Now”—I turn to head toward the crime scene— “what’s going on here?”

Captain sighs and his hand falls back down to his side knowing I'm not one for emotion. “Frank Denvers. Charged with abuse, murder, and other things I don’t care to reiterate. He’s been on the loose for the last two years and somehow stayed under the radar, but it seems like he’s met his match with Mayhem. ”

My eyes widen at the captain’s use of the nickname since we usually try not to use such language when talking about perpetrators.

Strolling around the perimeter of the body, I take in the scene before me.

Just like all the other murders, the body has been mutilated and broken apart into a mass of limbs and stringy tissue.

It’s disgustingly gory and formed in a hauntingly macabre picture as is the signature of the killer.

Instead of the smiley face it’s been in the past it’s a heart.

I bend down, inspecting it.

Captain crouches beside me, his eyes boring into the side of my face. “Why do you think it’s different now? After all this time what changed?”

Standing, I plant my hands on my hips. I open my mouth to respond but stop when I feel a drop of rain hit my cheek. Another drop and another follow soon after before a torrential downpour berates us.

“Stay here! I’ll grab an umbrella!”

The captain jogs away as a team of crime scene officials hurry over with a pop-up tent to keep the body out of the rain until we can move it since the abandoned building’s roof is littered with massive holes.

These crimes are gruesome—to say the least—and now that I know vampires are real, I can’t help but wonder if the Mayhem Murderer is one or another type of supernatural. It couldn’t be Zav, I don’t think. He’s too goofy to go around slaughtering people like this.

“Celine, here you go.” Captain Barnes huffs, now out of breath, and holds his own umbrella in one hand and an unused one in the other for me to take.

I give him a grateful smile as I open the umbrella to cover myself from the relentless downpour. “Thanks.”

I eye the scene before me, and Captain does the same.

“I think he might have an accomplice. Or at the very least a new muse,” I say softly. Rubbing a finger over my lip I scan over eyeballs plucked out of the man’s face and placed strategically to make a smiley within the limbs. “Something’s certainly changed.”

“What?” Captain asks, fuzzy brows knitting together.

“You asked why it’s different now.” I gesture to the crime scene and squat down.

“The killer’s M.O. is the same, but the signature is slightly different.

Whoever they are, they’re trying to make a statement.

” I glance over my shoulder again, back to where I know my car is parked.

I can’t see Zav from this distance but somehow I can still feel his eyes on me.

It’s hard not to shiver with how cold the rain has me in my soaked clothes, so I stand and shift from leg to leg to try and warm myself up.

“This killer? A statement?” A fellow detective asks with a scoff. “Every crime scene is a fucking statement piece.” He waves a hand in the general direction of the body although calling it a body is generous considering nothing is attached to anything at this point.

“I just mean serial killers like to use the same signature and posing to communicate something. Obviously, this is different and there’s some kind of reason behind it.”

Captain Barnes lets out a deep breath. “You’re on to something, Brennan. For it to change after all these murders there must’ve been something to cause this.”

The other detective huffs a laugh and mutters, “Maybe he got a girlfriend,” before walking off.

My frown deepens.

Dots are connecting right in front of me, ones I very much want to ignore.

The squad wraps up their on-site investigation and cop cars pull away as a few of us are left. Thankfully the rain lets up and allows us to put our umbrellas away.

It’s frustrating this case seems to go on and on without any path forward in sight.

Even though I was recently assigned to it, I did my research, and it dates back years ago.

Always executed in a gory positioning and somehow the killer manages to avoid cameras at every turn.

Nobody is that good unless they have a lot of experience both with murder and getting away with it—or unless they’re not human.

Captain Barnes claps me on the shoulder. “Take the rest of the day. There’s not much we’re going to be able to do on this murder until evidence is processed.”

“But—” I protest.

He shakes his head. “Crime scenes like this take a strong mental toll. Believe me, I know, and you’re still dealing with the break-in. I’m just looking out for you, Celine.”

I nod. “If you’re sure.”

“Positive.”

I trudge back to the car, shivering from my wet clothes.

“You need to put on dry clothes,” Zav says as soon as I open the car door. “I can’t have you catching a cold. I brought a fresh set for you. It’s in the back.”

My eyes dart from him to the backseat. Sure enough a set of my clothes rests on the bench.

When did he snag those and how did he know it was going to rain?

“Or we can head back to the apartment, and I can change there. Not in the back of my car. I’m not about to flash any pedestrians with my ass or boobs,” I gripe.

“I, personally, would welcome any flashing you’d like to do to me.

” He gives me a smile that has my tummy doing somersaults.

“But no, we aren’t going back quite yet.

There’s somewhere we need to stop and it’s on this side of town.

If we went back, it would be out of the way.

” I can tell he’s trying to appease my more rational side.

It doesn’t make sense to waste precious gas.

Not in this economy. He pulls his thin chain out from under his sweater collar.

“We’re already in a secluded section of the street, Celine.

Nobody is going to see you.” The gleam in his eye tells me someone might and that someone is in this car.

With a sigh, and ignoring the raging storm of feelings attacking my stomach, I close the car door before opening the back and sliding in.

“Turn around,” I scold when he turns in his seat to watch me change. Like a kid that got caught in the cookie jar he slowly turns back around.

My face is probably a brilliant shade of red. I’ve never been the super confident type, and I can’t help it if my insecurities are raging their ugly head wondering what if he catches a peak and doesn’t like what he sees.

Silly, I know. Zav’s proved endlessly that he’s obsessed with me, but I’ve learned over the years that insecurities are rarely rooted in logic.

Letting out a huff, I slip down as far as I can in the back.

There’s a folded up blanket next to my clothes and I throw that over myself as I work off my pants.

It’s no easy feat with how suctioned they are to my skin, and I probably look like a demented worm, but I manage.

My underwear pulls off with the pants and the fact I’m sprawled out here completely bare from the waist down with Zav in the front I can’t help the spike of lust that shoots through me.

Fuck! What if he can smell my arousal?

A clicking noise draws my attention and I pull down the blanket, being sure to cover my front, to meet Zav’s eyes in the rearview mirror. My gaze drops to his mouth where fangs have popped out. He runs his tongue along one of them and I gasp.

“Fangboner.” The word lisps around his teeth.

That should not be as sexy as it is.

Looking away from him, I duck beneath the blanket again and reach for the underwear hiding under the shirt on top of the pile. My jaw drops when I come away with a sexy lace pair of panties I had hidden in the back of my drawer since I refused to touch them. Ava had gotten them for me as a gift.

Not wanting to waste any more time in my remaining wet clothes I make quick work of divulging myself of the wet shirt and bra. Trying to finagle the clasp is a struggle, but I finally hook it and get the new shirt on.

Fully dressed in fresh clothes, I rip the blanket off my head and blow out a breath. I push open the door to dangle my legs out and yank on socks and my boots.

Feeling much warmer, I get back in the front seat and try to work my fingers through my wet, knotted hair the best I can.

“Ready to go, my little wet kitten?” Zavier asks from where he watches next to me.

“Strike that nickname off your list.” I fiddle with the vent so warm air blasts me in the face.

“Would you prefer sweet cheeks? Or honey bun? Or pudding pop?” He purses his lips in thought. “Oh, I know, pookie.”

“Shut up,” I groan. “I beg of you. No pet names.” He grins maniacally. “Where are we headed?”

Zavier taps his phone a few times and pulls navigation up on the car’s screen. With a mysterious smirk he simply nods toward it and mime’s zipping his lips.

I put the car in drive and leave the crime scene behind.