Page 35

BODICE RIPPER

Pember

Comparing the colour of Pember’s face to beetroot would have been the understatement of the century. Even wearing a blue face mask and pulling the collar of his lab coat up could do little to contain it. His toes still tingled, and his stomach muscles ached from the sudden, shuddering shift.

Pure adrenaline had allowed him to tear his way out of the woods and back to the police station; whether it was fear or something else, he couldn’t be sure.

“Alright?”

Pember jumped as Maya strode over, her black pumps squeaking on the plastic floor. She bumped his shoulder, staring at him until he looked up from the microscope.

“Yep,” he replied, readjusting his face mask.

The microscope was just for show. Sure, he’d placed a sample slide under the light, but his mind was racing so badly he may as well have been looking at microscopic space rockets firing lasers at one another.

The silence between them stretched, and stretched, and stretched until Maya finally dipped her head and sniffed his neck.

“You smell weird.”

“No, I don’t,” he replied, way too quickly.

“Yes, you do. Like… death. And sex? You haven’t been shagging any corpses at the morgue, have you?”

Pember snorted. “That’ll be a no. ”

Bumping him with her hip, she said, “You coming into heat or something?”

“I…er… I changed my medication recently. That’s probably it.”

Yep, yep, yep, that was most definitely it, and not because of the six foot something alpha I just left in the woods.

“If you say so,” Maya said, and began typing on a nearby computer. “I got the results for the rape victim’s samples, by the way.”

Pember looked up. “Oh yeah? Anything?”

Maya nodded, running her tongue over her teeth. “Yeah. There were five separate seminal profiles. Not four, like the victim originally thought.”

“How awful,” he replied, swallowing thickly and stepping away from the microscope. “Poor guy.”

“Mhm. We’re running the samples for DNA next week. Falkington probably have their results by now, but we’re doing ours for continuity.” Maya rubbed her eyes, yawning into the crook of her elbow.

“Why next week?” he said.

Maya held out both hands, tipping her head with a lopsided smile. “Isn’t it obvious? The murder takes priority.”

Pember sighed, the pang of guilt from their previous conversation making a return. “That’s shit.”

“Right? But in a toss-up between five rapists and a murderer… who do you think the alphas in Major Crime have more interest in?”

“That sounds like the beginning of a very bad joke,” Pember snorted behind his hand.

Maya grinned. “Yeah, I don’t think I’d want to be walking into that particular bar.”

“You’re back with us, then? Working the murder full time, I mean?”

Maya nodded, turning her gaze back to the computer. “For now. Many hands make light work, and all that. I just hope the patrol bobbies don’t come chasing us for all the drug drive results that are stacking up.”

Pember glanced over his shoulder, gingerly eyeing the industrial freezer that was becoming more and more packed with blood samples as the days went on.

“Well, if you ever feel like you need a break from rape and murder, I’m sure Wallace won’t mind if you process a few.” He stuck out his tongue, because if he’d learned anything about Maya, it was that she hated producing long-winded reports for the courts.

“Eh, I’m sure they’ll wait. Anyway, look at this.” Maya tugged his sleeve and turned the monitor towards him. Stepping away from the microscope, he pulled down his mask and squinted at the screen.

“Blood splatter in the woods,” she said. “See it tracked all through the grass?”

Pember’s eyes went wide. On the screen were several blown-up images of a small, wooded area in the centre of the park. Blood splatter marks were splashed across the grass as though someone had launched a bucket of paint.

“Shit, that’s a hell of a lot of blood. First point of contact?”

Maya nodded. “Wallace thinks so. Looks like the killer nicked an artery with the first couple of jabs. Alpha’s blood pressure would have plummeted before he made it to the fountain and collapsed.”

“But there was blood splatter all over the fountain. You think the killer chased him? Carried on the attack?”

Maya shrugged. “Possibly. But haven’t you ever seen a nicked artery? Pisses like a motherfucker.”

“I guess,” Pember replied, eyes lingering over the still images. There was a hell of a lot of blood, even for a moving target. The victim hadn’t been wearing a coat, only a T-shirt, jeans and dress shoes. The blood would have sprayed right out of him unhindered. He frowned at the thought.

“Hey, May? It’s still a bit chilly, right? Last night it was, what, four degrees outside?”

Maya hummed. “Something like that. I had to give Jerry an extra heating pad because his feet were cold.”

Pember hummed sympathetically at the thought of Maya’s pampered diabetic cat warming his toe beans in bed.

“So why wasn’t our guy wearing a coat? I know alphas run hotter than everyone else, but surely he would have at least had a shirt to cover his arms. In fact, is there CCTV of him walking through the park? Where had he been that night?”

Maya stared at him, her expression unusually hard, making Pember worry he’d overstepped the mark again.

After a moment she threw her hands up and jostled his shoulders.

“I have no idea, Pem. That’s for the detectives to follow up on.

Whew, you sure you aren’t coming into heat? You really do smell like sex on legs.”

The flush over Pember’s neck made a return, creeping right up to his hairline. “L-like I said, it’s the meds.”

Maya nodded. “Good, because there’s no way you’re missing our night out. The others can’t wait to meet you. What’re you wearing?”

Pember sighed. “No idea. I only brought one suitcase of clothes from my mum’s house, so I’m kind of limited.”

Maya nodded, giving him a solemn smile. “I get it. How about we go shopping after work? Sal, one of the girls who’s going tomorrow, her brother owns a boutique in town.

I think you’d look absolutely ravishing in red.

Or maybe an inky blue. Yeah, blue would really set off your eyes.

And your hair—you have to wear your hair down.

All tousled and wavy. Oof, I could just eat you up where you stand.

” Chuckling, Pember tugged at his face mask.

“What?” Maya continued, playfully knuckling his ribs.

“Don’t act like you don’t have that bodice-ripper heroine look going on.

Remind me again why you don’t have a mate? ”

Pember frowned, turning back towards the microscope.

“Sorry, did I overstep?” Maya said, tugging at the sleeve of his lab coat.

“No,” he replied, softly shaking his head. “I’d love to go shopping. Meet you out the front around six?”

Maya’s mouth opened and closed several times before finally nodding. “Yeah. See you at six.”

“The blue. Definitely the blue,” Maya said, tapping her toes together as she spun Pember around.

“I agree. It makes your eyes look so pretty. The silver embroidery on the collar… Chef’s kiss.” Sal, Maya’s friend, kissed her fingers as she looked him over.

She ran a hand through her short brown pixie cut, the green plaster cast covering her wrist catching in a few strands.

It had the name ‘Paul’ scrawled across it, followed by a bright pink penis drawn in highlighter.

It’d been poorly covered in black Sharpie, the hairy testicles still very much visible.

When Sal saw him looking, she flicked the man behind the counter—her brother—the middle finger and held out her arm.

“Fell off my bike yesterday,” she said, jabbing her thumb towards the cash tills.

“Numbnuts over there thought it’d be a fantastic idea to draw a massive throbbing phallus on my arm when I was off my tits on pain meds.

Clearly forgot that I have a very serious job, and have to deal with exceptionally stuck-up lawyers day in and day out. ”

Pember glanced over at the tills, only to see a sheepish looking redhead waving back.

“Sal’s a legal secretary,” Maya said, leaning forward to wrap an arm around the other omega’s shoulders. “Should be running the company, shouldn’t you, babycakes?”

Sal flushed, tugging Maya’s arm away. “Nah. I’ll leave that to the ‘alpha-holes’ with their big cars and even bigger egos.

Honestly, they spend more time negotiating plea deals than actually getting justice for the victims—ah!

” she hissed, rubbing her shoulder. “Turns out, concrete’s hard and so are drain covers. ”

Pember grimaced and gave her a sympathetic smile.

Despite feeling like a prized pig being appraised at a county show, he couldn’t deny that he was enjoying himself.

Plus, the outfit looked bloody brilliant.

A navy button-down shirt with billowing sleeves and little silver roses embroidered on the tips of the collar.

The straight-cut black jeans rode low on his hips, hugging his thighs and arse.

Maya ruffled his hair, and he had to admit that he did look just about ready to be ravished by some bare-chested man on the back of a galloping stallion.

“Shoes? What about shoes?” Sal said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Boots, or dress shoes?”

“W-well, I—” he began.

Maya scoffed. “Dress shoes, obviously. Show off those delicate ankles.”

Sal waved the comment away. “Nah, I reckon a pair of Docs. Grunge it up a bit. Tiny bit of kohl in the corners of his eyes. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Ladies,” Paul called from within the shop. Moments later, he appeared by the curtain. “Stop pecking the poor guy, he looks positively done in.” Paul grabbed Pember’s wrist and tugged him out of the changing room. “Come on, let’s get you something you actually want.”

Two hours. For two bloody hours the girls had him trying on clothes.

Eventually, he settled on the blue shirt and jeans combination, as well as a pair of dark tan Chelsea boots.

He’d also decided to buy a decent pair of walking boots, because his trainers looked about ready to give up the ghost. Thankfully Paul gave him a discount.

“Nice place you got,” Maya said, pressing her elbows into the table as she sipped from one of Pember’s chipped mugs. “Rent’s decent?”

He nodded. “Not bad, but that’s probably because it comes with an extremely loud neighbour and her very chatty parrot.”

Chuckling, Maya traipsed to the kitchen window, coffee cup still in hand. “And the sergeant? Is he the one at the end?”

Something about her interest caused a spike of irritation between Pember’s shoulder blades. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Maya with the information, it was just… well, now that he thought about it, he selfishly wanted to keep that knowledge all to himself.

Silly, really. Stupid, in fact.

“There are some really great hills over the back there,” he said, pointing out of the window.

Maya’s eyebrow twitched when he changed the subject, but she only nodded. “Ah, hence the walking boots. How’re you getting on with everything? Any crippling depression from not having a pack, or whatever the National Health Service reckons might happen if we strike out on our own?”

Pember shrugged.

Maya sucked her teeth. “Still can’t be easy though, right? Not having a big strong alpha about the place, or whatever shite society spouts.”

That was the understatement of the fucking century.

“Not bad. Mum’s not happy, but…” He took a breath, reminding himself not to dwell too long on that particular subject.

“I keep myself busy, and the place is slowly coming together.” He glanced around the living room, nodding quietly to himself at all the progress he’d made.

He had a side table next to the sofa, a picture of a sunset beach above the fireplace and a potted plant in the corner.

“Is this a cello?” The sound of Maya’s fingernails drumming the top of the hard case knocked him out of his thoughts. On instinct he lurched forwards, brushing her fingers away.

“Y-yes,” he said, patting the back of her hand, trying to play it off in the most awkward way imaginable. “Sorry, it’s… it’s my sister’s and I?—”

“Play me a song,” Maya said, the corners of her mouth quirking up. She slid her hand from Pember’s grasp and placed it back on top of the case. “For me?”

She was staring at him in that unnaturally hard way again. It was a look that made him feel like the rug was being pulled out from beneath his feet.

“No,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers around her wrist. They stared at one another for several seconds, until Maya eventually sighed and pulled her hand away. “Only trying to get you to loosen up a little, Pem. Nothing personal.”

“I know,” he replied, guilt gnawing at his insides. “I know, sorry. I just?—”

Maya pulled away, turning towards the kitchen. “And this coffee is fucking ace. Love the new machine.”

Just then, Cherry let out a loud squawk from the other side of the wall, making them both jump. Pember let out a breath, silently relieved. “Duty calls,” he said, pointing towards the oven.

“You cook for her? That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, her food delivery guy’s kinda inconsistent, and we both like the company in the evenings.”

A sharp smirk pulled across Maya’s mouth. “I see. And here I thought you and Blake were keeping one another company… all night long.”

Nostrils flaring, Pember yanked the empty coffee cup from her hand and dropped it into the sink. “Will you stop that?” he said, crossing his arms. “I get enough shit from Samantha; I don’t need it from you too.”

Maya looked momentarily taken aback, before throwing up her hands and tugging her coat from the back of the chair. “Okay, okay. Point well and truly taken. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

Pember let out a slow breath. “Yeah. See you tomorrow, May.”