Page 18 of Unhallowed Murder (A Paranormal Halloween #2)

The door was under a beautiful staircase, which made sense, as this staircase led down.

They stepped onto a landing without an exit, the wolf put her hand on a palm reader, and another door opened.

The next door, however, must’ve been another old-fashioned secret-mechanism door, because it was open, with a male werewolf guarding it .

Josef had chosen to utilize technology, but he didn’t completely trust it. Every other door was old-school and then modern tech. Again — interesting .

At last, they came to a solid wall, and the wolf told her, “When I’m gone, telepath him that you’re outside his chamber, and alone.”

She climbed six steps, and a wall formed four steps up, so Ronnie was alone in a room with solid black walls and zero light. Even her tiger vision was useless.

Josef? I’m here and it’s dark. I wish you’d warned me.

Her physical body was on full alert, but Ronnie was pissed instead of scared. The cat stood inside her and took note, annoyed, but not angry.

The wall opened, light spilled in, and Josef stood before her, so poised she wanted to punch him.

“I apologize, Bellula . The final room is kind of my own personal Rubicon. I hope you’ll forgive an old vampire his eccentricities.”

“You haven’t given me bullshit before, don’t start now. You can find out a lot about a person’s intent in that dark room, can’t you?”

He smiled. “You’ve reminded me once again why I’m so enraptured with you, Bellula . Straight to the point. Yes, you are absolutely correct.”

His eyes went sharp, and within a microsecond he’d closed the distance between them. She jerked her chin at his touch, but he held it steady, cupping it, his fingers firm.

“Increase light.” His voice was sharp, no nonsense, and the lights in the room brightened .

“Your face is bruised. You’re a fucking tiger and your face is bruised.”

His voice was ice, his eyes cold. Ronnie didn’t try to step away because to do so would be to admit he’d alarmed her.

“I’m a cop. Sometimes the bad guys don’t want me to put cuffs on them. It happens.”

He didn’t say anything. He merely stood like a statue, motionless, holding her chin, his icy gaze on the bruise.

“I popped a few aspirins to make sure the bruise formed. We got lots of pictures before I left work, because we initially brought him in for assaulting an officer. We have him on murder now, but we need to make sure the first charge holds or the second could fall apart.”

He finally let go of her chin. “I can fry his brain from the inside, and no one will know what happened.”

She shook her head. “Not while he’s in our custody, Josef. You have to promise. It looks bad on me when people come into my custody healthy and don’t leave the same way.”

“Later, then.”

“No! You can’t fry the brain of everyone who punches me!”

“Can’t I?”

She crossed her arms and glared at him.

Josef sighed. “Yes, okay. He’s your prisoner, and the bruise will heal. Come, your meal is ready.”

They walked through a maze of rooms Ronnie was certain was also part of his security, and ended up in a dining room. She didn’t ask why a vampire had a dining room table and a kitchen in his downstairs lair.

But her mouth watered and her inner tigress rose up, sniffing.

He’d made her a bison pot roast in the biggest crock pot she’d ever seen.

“You cook?”

“I started it in the upstairs kitchen before dawn this morning, and asked my wolves to keep an eye on it. They brought it down once I awakened. I’ve chosen a robust wine, from vineyards I own in Italy. I hope you find it goes well with the bison.”

Another thing about the old ones . If they aren’t disgustingly rich, they’re doing something very wrong.

“Thank you, for taking the time and effort to feed me.” She took a breath. “Traditionally, this requires—”

“Fuck tradition,” he interrupted. “You aren’t obligated to feed me.

I’ll be thrilled if you wish to, someday, but I’ll have to see into your head enough to be certain you aren’t doing it out of a misplaced sense of right and wrong.

” He caressed her bruised cheek, a whisper of a touch.

“I won’t drink from you unless it’s for the right reasons, and it could be one of a hundred right reasons, but it should be intimate and special.

It should bring us closer together. If it won’t do those things, I’ll wait until it will. ”

She told him about her day while she ate. At first, he wasn’t amused when he discovered she’d goaded the man into striking her, but then he seemed to change his mind, as if he understood the strategy and respected it.

When she finished the story, he sat back and steepled his fingers, considering.

“Give me two hours with him, and I’ll give him nightmares.

I’ll force him to relive every murder he’s committed, but from the perspective of the person who died — and I’ve been inside people’s heads when they died, I know how to show him the feeling.

When he awakens, he’ll ask for a paper and pen so he can detail every single murder. ”

“You’re sure you can do this?”

“If he’s too strong for suggestions, I’ll speak to him in his head and claim to be God. I’ll tell him he’ll have the same nightmare every night until he confesses.”

“No. If he starts talking about God in his head, the psychiatrists will get involved and everything’ll go to shit. I want him in prison .”

“I’ll make the suggestion work, and he won’t speak to anyone of why he’s choosing to confess. It might not happen right when he awakens, though. Depends on how strong his willpower is, and how much of a sociopath he is.”

“How close do you need to be from the jail?”

He hesitated a brief moment. “I can reach the county jail from our downtown billiard club.”

Ronnie’s insides somersaulted in her abdomen. She sat back and kept her face from showing emotion. “My office is in the same block.”

“Yes. I’ve stayed out of your head, Ronnie.”

He smelled of the truth, but the old ones knew how to mask their scent when they lied. She’d have to believe him until he gave her reason not to, though.

“He had a small cut near his eye — a side effect of me ramming my fist into it. I wiped my hand on my shirt. I’ve changed clothes since then, but I have it in a sealed bag, if that will help you find his mind inside the jail.”

“His location inside the jail is more important at this point. His blood will be dead by now, so I can’t use it to find him.

” He gave her an appraising look before adding, “I need to tell you that I’m restricted about what I can share with you — certain details about my kind that aren’t commonly known.

I’m treading terribly close to the line. ”

“Don’t do anything to get yourself in hot water. If there’s anything I can do to lift those restrictions, please let me know.”