Page 60 of Royal

“I didn’t like him threatening you,” Ruby said, coming to stand beside me.

“He doesn’t scare me. I can take care of myself.” I touched the gun resting at my hip. “And if he has balls enough to come at me, he’ll get nicely acquainted with my Glock.”

The bastard would have another thing coming to him if he tried anything. A part of me even wished he would, just so we could put his ass away faster.

Agent Stone grabbed the letter and envelope before placing them in a bag and handing them over to one of his agents. “Take these to the lab to be checked for prints.”

“Yes, sir.” The agent left the room.

Hopefully, the killer had been in such a blind rage that he hadn’t taken precautions with potential DNA evidence. However, it’d only help if his DNA was already in the system to be matched against. If we were fortunate enough to get a name and photo, finding him would be so much easier. As it stood, he could’ve been anybody. I could’ve walked right past him in a crowd and been none the wiser.

As the day drew on, a thought lingered in the back of my mind. Aunt Abby’s dream. She kept seeing me in a dark room with my gun drawn, as feelings of fear and panic filled her chest. And now a serial killer was pissed at me.

Had I just set that dream into motion?

I quietly chuckled to myself as I gathered my things to leave that evening. The talk with Royal that morning must’ve filled my head with silly nonsense. I didn’t believe in all that supernatural shit. My aunt’s dreams were derived from her own anxieties and all the disturbing murder documentaries she watched on TV. Coincidences, at most.

“Detective Riley.” Agent Stone stopped me before I left the station.

“Grayson,” I corrected him.

“Grayson.” He nodded briskly. “Will you be all right on your own? An agent can stay with you for a few days, if you’d feel more comfortable.”

He was worried about me?

“As I told my partner, I’m good.” There was no way in hell I was having some fucking FBI protection. I was a grown-ass man and could take care of myself. “I appreciate the concern, though, Agent Stone.”

“Phoenix,” he said before a half-smile touched his lips. “Around the team, you can call me Agent Stone, but in personal conversations, I prefer Phoenix.”

“Okay. Phoenix.” Shit. There were definite vibes he was hitting on me. “Interesting name. And it’s not a nickname?”

His dark blue eyes narrowed slightly. “Not a nickname. My father…” He pressed his lips into a line, thinking. “He was big into mythology. His favorite creature was the phoenix. After catching fire, they rise from the ashes. He often told me he’d do the same one day.”

A chill shot down my spine.

I had no clue who his father was, but the intensity of Phoenix’s gaze and the hard edge to his tone as he talked about him made me never want to meet the man.

“Good thing his favorite mythological creature wasn’t a cyclops or a gorgon,” I said, trying to lighten the heavy mood. “Can you imagine going through life named Cyclops Stone?”

He cracked a real smile at that. “See you in the morning, Grayson.”