Page 23 of Tested

Promising myself I’ll tell him as soon as it’s safe, I start mentally organizing the information I have so far and wondering if the team has learned anything useful over the last two years. More importantly, in a battle between the vampires and the elves, who wins? And why does the Morrigan care anyway? Maybe Smith has heard a rumor that might help. With that in mind, I turn right to head for the MessHall Kitchen.

I need to find the princess before she destroys my life.

An hour or so later, Smith and I leave the artfully deconstructed restaurant after having a non-productive conversation with one of Adaline Nosaka’s cousins. He’d been polite and appropriately saddened by his cousin’s death, but he had no idea who would have done the deed.

“Do you want to divide and conquer tomorrow?” Smith tugs off his blazer, revealing a white shirt with a Hang Ten logo embroidered on the left breast.

“What do you mean?”

“We start in the morning and one of us goes back through the list of Nosaka’s friends and relatives and the other chases down the owner of the strip mall where the body was found.”

I press the key fob and the rental car chirps to life. The strip mall’s owner had been suspiciously vague about both his whereabouts and his willingness to be interviewed. “Let me try David again. If he’ll agree to go with me to interview the owner, he might catch a scent that’ll be useful.”

“David’s your…”

“Boyfriend,” I say with confidence. “David Collins. He’s a werewolf, and—”

“Oh yeah, the Alpha’s son. I heard he had a dust-up with his uncle last spring.”

I suppress a sigh. David’s reputation precedes him.

“I mean,” Smith continues, “you’re right about him being a good tracker. If you can bring him on, that’d be awesome.”

Something about Smith’s enthusiasm makes me think he’s been feeling a little lonely as the only supe at the LAPD. Which makes me ask, “What is your gift, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Smith’s perma-tan skin turns smooth and grey, his head elongates, and a double row of razer sharp teethturn his grin into the fearsome mouth of a shark.

His mouth opens and I take a reflexive step away. In a flash, Smith is back and grinning at me.

“On land it’s mostly a party trick but watch out if you come across me in the water,” he says.

“I will.”

He laughs louder. “Nah, Mack, you’re good. I mean, being a shark shifter got me this liaison gig, so I can’t complain.”

We say goodnight after promising to connect in the morning.