Page 35 of Veiled Justice (The Other Detective #1)

Krieg shouldered the body and strode out of Einar’s house towards the main building. I guessed ogres were early risers because the building was already full of them. As he went inside, all conversation stopped abruptly.

I followed him in because … well … I was nosey as fuck; also Krieg needed someone to watch his back if Hanlon was still busy typing up my notes.

The living-room fire was still burning green in the grate. I recognised Jón, Freja, and Maktel. Hanlon was there too; he was done typing, then. There was no sign of Aron, and I didn’t know anyone else.

Krieg threw Einar down onto the tiled floor, strode to the fire, took a handful of white sand and threw it into the flames. They surged and flashed then turned back to their usual red. ‘Helga Jónson’s death has been avenged,’ he said into the silence.

Freja let out a low growl. ‘Einar?’ she snarled. ‘How could he?’

‘He was paid two million to kill Helga,’ I confirmed. I figured such crass details were better coming from an official source rather than Helga’s godfather, King or not.

Jón ground his teeth and his lips twisted. ‘He killed one of us for money?’ He hawked and spat on Einar’s corpse.

‘Justice has been carried out,’ Krieg said dispassionately. ‘He died on my tusks. The blood money he was paid will be gifted to you, Jón and Freja.’

‘I don’t want it.’ Freja was trembling with fury or grief, I couldn’t tell which.

Jón shrugged. ‘It’ll spend the same.’ He looked at Krieg. ‘And the ones that hired him?’

‘I’ll be dealing with them,’ I said firmly.

Jón looked at me dubiously. ‘See that you do,’ he said finally.

‘Who is she?’ a female ogre called. ‘To be here in the den like this?’

Krieg introduced me. ‘This is Inspector Wise of the Connection – and she is in my shadow,’ he said firmly. The room fell so silent you could have heard a phoenix fart. The female gaped at me, her face a mask of fury.

I had no idea what being in his shadow meant, so I kept my face impassive.

Krieg turned to Jón and Freja. ‘The body is yours. Do with it what you will.’ He turned on his heel and marched out of the den.

I followed him because I really didn’t want to be in the den alone with that bitch looking at me with such violence in her eyes.

Not that I couldn’t kill her, but I doubted Krieg would appreciate it if I did.

I followed his swagger down a long corridor. Finally he held a door open for me: it turned out we were going to his inner sanctum – his bedroom. ‘I need to shower and change,’ he said. ‘It is best for you to stay here whilst I do so.’ Away from his ogres.

‘Sure. You don’t like entrails in your hair.’

‘I do not. Stay here.’

I nodded and looked around as he entered the en-suite bathroom.

It came as no surprise that his room exuded opulence and sophistication, blending masculine colours and textures.

The space was dominated by deep, earthy tones – charcoal, walnut brown and slate grey – complemented by accents of brushed gold.

It was a room that emanated command – but also sensuality.

The focal point was a super-king-sized bed adorned with dark navy bedding and a sturdy, carved-oak headboard. Beside it was a sofa layered with textured throws and pillows. There was no TV in the room that I could see; instead, the stone wall housed a sleek fireplace that added warmth.

The floor was polished hardwood softened by a Persian rug. Floor-to-ceiling navy curtains covered large windows; they were still shut and only the lamp that Krieg had flipped on lit the space.

Opposite the bed, a low glass-and-steel table beside a leather armchair served as a reading nook.

A decanter of whisky and a few crystal tumblers rested on a sideboard, alongside a small collection of books.

Throughout the room were pieces of beautiful pottery, mainly painted black though a few were maroon, in a similar style to the bold, muted art works that adorned the walls.

I sat on the sofa and leaned back into the cushions, surprised at how much I sank into them. They were ridiculously comfy. I could hear the soothing sound of running water from the bathroom and my eyelids started to feel entirely too heavy.

My phone rang, shattering the quiet and ripping me awake. Dr Potter calling. I answered on a yawn. ‘Hey, Kate.’

‘Hey, Stacy.’

‘You sound tired.’

‘So do you,’ she quipped.

I laughed softly. ‘I guess we’re all running on empty.’

‘That’s what happens when the Connection is too tight-arsed to pay for more staff.’

‘You’re not wrong. What’s up?’

‘I’m calling about Alice Rose.’

‘Already?’ I was impressed.

‘I put her to the top of the pile.’

‘I really owe you one. Thank you.’

‘Chuck me a bottle of bubbles and we’ll call it quits.’

‘Deal. What have you got for me?’

‘The blade the perpetrator used was unusual – long, serrated and hooked. Hunting knives are often hooked to help pull out the animal’s guts, but it’s not normal for them to have a serrated edge.

It rang a bell, so I looked up an old case.

Same thing – exactly the same thing. I’d bet good money your killer is the same person because the similarities were striking – I’m talking right down to the location of the wounds.

I contacted the Inspector on the case – she was thrilled to be woken, by the way – but she knew the case I was talking about.

It was a dryad-hired assassin called Kane. ’

I could have kissed her. Now I had evidence to hunt down Kane that didn’t consist of illegal memories yanked from someone’s mind. ‘Fantastic work. Can you send me the details of that case and the Inspector’s details?’

‘You got it. One other thing. Alice had imbibed Imbarum too, just like Helga.’

‘Kate, I appreciate the hell out of you.’

I could feel her grin. ‘Yeah, yeah.’

‘Go, relax.’

‘I wish,’ she snorted. ‘Apparently I have another body coming in. Some rich old guy has died and someone is pulling strings to have me deal with it. Apparently the nurse flagged the case and the guy’s daughter is not happy. I’ve been told to do an autopsy by yesterday,’ she huffed.

‘Grab some sleep before you start,’ I recommended. ‘Power naps work miracles.’

‘I hear you.’ She paused. ‘So does champagne.’

I laughed.

‘I gotta go, but I thought you’d want to know about Kane ASAP.’

‘Absolutely. Thanks, Kate. Speak soon.’ Then I hesitated as Krieg’s questions about the friends in my life flashed into my mind. ‘Maybe we could drink that champagne together one day?’ I asked.

Kate’s voice was warm. ‘I’d like that, Stacy.’

We hung up and I put my phone on the table. Things were moving along nicely. Kate had certainly earned the promised bubbles: now I had a concrete link between the two cases. The rare Imbarum was hard to source and the killer had a distinct MO.

A yawn cracked my face and I pulled a soft throw over me. I’d rest my aching eyes, just for a moment.

‘Wake up, Kaerasta.’ A hand was gently stroking my hair. I opened my eyes, momentarily disorientated as I took in the unfamiliar surroundings. When I saw Krieg kneeling before me, I realised where I was. ‘Hello,’ I said dumbly.

He smiled. ‘Hello. I’m sorry to wake you but I know you’re up against the clock.’

‘Right.’ I stretched, only then realising I was still wearing the lace dress I’d worn to the Nocturne Circle.

I grimaced: I needed to go home and change, which would waste time I didn’t have.

I seriously contemplated wearing the dress to the office; if I punched DS Roberts in the face when he inevitably sassed me, no one else would dare comment about it.

‘If you’d like to shower, I have some fresh clothes for you,’ Krieg offered. A black suit and white shirt were laid out on his bed together with a brand-new set of underwear, all still on hangers from the shops.

I stared at them. ‘Did you buy those?’ I asked incredulously.

‘Not me personally – I stayed with you. I couldn’t risk leaving you alone in the den.’

I didn’t have the bandwidth to dig into that. ‘What time is it?’ I asked instead.

‘Just gone 7.30am. I let you sleep – I figured you couldn’t do much before morning.’

‘Right.’ My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool. ‘Thank you. I’ll shower.’ I suddenly recalled my conversation with Kate. ‘Alice Rose was also subdued with Imbarum. Did you hear anything from DeLea?’

Krieg frowned. ‘No, but I’ll call her while you shower.’

‘Pigdog,’ a sulky voice squawked.

‘Loki? What are you doing here?’

‘He flew here and rapped rather insistently on the window with his beak,’ Krieg said, amused.

‘What’s up, bud?’ I asked the bird. ‘Why didn’t you stay at home?’

‘Dark. Hungry.’

I winced as guilt shot through me. ‘Sorry, buddy. I’ll get you a new lamp, one you can switch on yourself.’ I looked at Krieg. ‘Can you rustle up some food for Loki? He likes cooked meat.’

He nodded. ‘I’ll sort out the bird, you shower.’

‘Thanks,’ I said gratefully.

I took the clothes off the bed and carted them into a white marble en-suite that was bigger than my entire living space. I stripped off, fully conscious of the fact that there was no lock on the door.

As I stepped into Krieg’s shower, his scent swirled around me.

God, he smelled so good. I turned on the hot water and let it blast me and, after a moment’s hesitation, picked up his body wash.

I guessed that today I was going to smell like Krieg, too.

I blew out a breath and tried not to imagine him lathering up his body like I was doing to mine right now.

Celibate for 660 days. I rested my forehead against the cold glass.

I really needed to get a grip. Preferably on a willing cock.

I groaned. I didn’t usually have such a hard time focusing; this was all Krieg’s fault, with his hot glances and flirty comments.

He was screwing up my concentration and I couldn’t afford that right now. I needed to focus on the job at hand.

Arrest the killers, get a confession, exonerate my brother before my twenty-four hours were up.

Easy.