Riley Jensen 06 - The Darkest Kiss Part 12

"Yeah. Her animal form is black, but she can obviously shift the size of her cat, because what we were chasing is not what killed that man in the shop window. Cole reckons her hands were at least tiger-size."

Kade frowned. "I didn't think it was possible for shifters or weres to alter the size of their beast, let alone partially shift."

"Well, up until recently, I didn't think there was a wolf pack who could alter their human form, either, so who knows what else is out there?" I shrugged and adjusted my bra. Luckily, I'd gone for one that was Lycra rather than lace this morning, and as a result it had come through the shapeshifts in wearable condition. Which meant I'd definitely have to buy more for work situations.

Running around with a bra on was infinitely better than running around without. "We better get back and check what-or who-is dead in that house."

"Our shifter is obviously killing these women to a.s.sume their ident.i.ties, which means she probably looks a lot like them to begin with."

"Not necessarily. Maybe she can alter her human shape as well as her animal. After all, her cat is black, and yet the witnesses said she was blonde." I shrugged and clambered back over the fence. "Or maybe she's not even a shifter to begin with.

Maybe she's something else entirely."

"But what else is there that can shift?"

"Who knows?" But if the spirit of an ancient G.o.d of death could be called into this time to create havoc once again, there was no saying what else was out there.

Or what else could be called into being.

A chill ran across my skin and I rubbed my arms. Kade must have caught the movement, because he retrieved my sweater and tossed it to me. I pulled it on gratefully, then caught my coat. Wearing it didn't seem to ease the chill, though.

Our footsteps echoed through the silent house as we made our way back up the corridor. The death scent was coming from the first room, and my steps slowed as we approached. I'd seen a lot of bloodshed and killing over the last year-had even done my fair share of it-but it never seemed to get any easier to confront.

I hoped it never did.

I hoped the part of me that mourned the wanton destruction of innocent lives haunted my days-and nights-for as long as I remained in this job. Because it meant that I wasn't becoming my brother, wasn't becoming the unthinking killing machine that he could sometimes be, and that Jack wanted me to be.

We stepped into the room. A large bed dominated the small s.p.a.ce. Like the rest of the house, everything was white-only here, the brightness was alleviated by dark red patches that adorned the walls, the bedspread, and the carpet near the bed.

Like the woman I'd found yesterday, this woman was lying half-undressed, slumped across the bed. Her lacy bra dangled from the stump of her shoulder, and her torso was crisscrossed with b.l.o.o.d.y gashes. Gashes made with claws bigger than your average black house cat.

"Christ," Kade said. "The press are going to love this. First James, then his lover, and now another member of Toorak's finest."

"The press won't get anywhere near the story if Jack has anything to do with it. He'll keep them focused on James."

"Press have a nose for these things."

"And Jack's had plenty of experience restraining them."

He grunted, but whether that was agreement or not was anyone's guess.

"She hasn't been dead all that long." He stopped near the body and looked down at her. "Why would the cat come back to this house when she'd already used the woman's face and knew she'd been seen?"

I shrugged. "Given that we're probably not dealing with a rational mind here, maybe she simply didn't think we'd trace her so easily."

I stopped beside him. Unlike her body, the woman's face was untouched, but the terror of her ordeal seemed frozen on her features. My gaze fell to her mouth, and I frowned.

"Is that lipstick?" I leaned closer to have a look. The odor of death and new decay overrode the metallic scent of blood, but the scent of cat and that vague, orange and jasmine aroma was present as well.

"Where?" Kade said.

I pointed a finger to the smear of red across the woman's top lip. "It looks like someone wearing lipstick has been kissing her. The shoe guy had the same color on his lips."

"So she kissed this woman before she killed her, then stole her ident.i.ty and killed the shoe guy. Maybe we are dealing with a soul-sucker of some kind." He studied her mouth for a second longer, then stepped back and looked around. "There's an awful lot of fear lingering in this room. Fear and anger."

"Anger?" I raised an eyebrow. "Same source, or different?"

"The anger is older. Deeper." He frowned. "When I sensed it in James's office, it felt ancient and powerful. Now it feels even more so."

I'm glad he was feeling something, because I wasn't. And really, that was beginning to bug me. Four murders, and not one soul left hanging about afterward? Granted, the woman I'd found yesterday had been dead for so long her soul was unlikely to be still here, but with the other three, I should have sensed something. h.e.l.l, I might have wished more than once to go to a murder scene and not sense the dead, but the reality of its happening was p.r.i.c.kling my radar. Something was very off-kilter.

And, at least with these cat killings, it really did suggest that we were dealing with some sort of soul-sucker.

Goose b.u.mps fled across my skin. I resisted the urge to rub my arms and said, "So our murderer is somehow gaining power every time she kills?"

"That would be my guess, yes." His gaze met mine. "Which means we have to catch her soon, before she grows too powerful."

"If we can bring down a G.o.d of death, we can bring down this thing. Whatever she is." But I wished I sounded a little more confident. "What I don't get is why she's marking her victims first. I mean, why bother with three tiny slashes if she's going to cut them up so badly or rip off an arm? And why would she do that to this woman and the shoe guy, and not to James and the first female victim?"

"Maybe it was some sort of test that developed into something more violent. " His gaze raked the woman's body, and distaste flicked through his warm eyes. "And she didn't only claw here. She's nibbled."

My stomach did an odd sort of flip-flop. "What?"

"Here." He pointed to a small area near the woman's left breast. The skin had been torn open, and globules of fat and flesh were evident. "Those aren't claw marks around the wound. That's teeth."

"Why on earth would she be eating the flesh now when she didn't before?"

"What better way to induce fear than to actually eat bits of your victim? " He shrugged. "She seems to be getting more violent with each murder, so perhaps this is all part of the escalation."

I shuddered at the thought. I didn't want to think about the mess her victims would be in if we didn't stop her soon. "If that is a bite wound, then she was wearing a smaller form. And no one-not even a human-is going to stand around and let a cat nibble on their flesh. Besides, the woman was in the process of dressing-it would have been hard for the cat to sneak in a bite before the woman reacted."

"We don't know what other skills she has, besides her ability to shift her shape and size."

That was true. I glanced at my watch and swore softly. I was late for my coffee appointment with Ben. "Look, I have to go chat to a man about another murdering psycho. You want to call in a cleanup team on this one?"

He nodded. "I'll go talk to James's secretary after that, see if he was the connection to the two women."

"Even if he was, how would they all be connected to the shoe guy?" It was easy enough imagining the women buying shoes there, but I highly doubt James was the type to be running around in high heels.

"With politicians you never really know." He reached across and flicked my nose lightly. "It's nice working with you, even if we can't have s.e.x."

I grinned. "Ditto. Just be careful that cat doesn't come back and decide to make a meal out of you, too."

His warm brown eyes twinkled with sudden mischief. "Wouldn't be the first time a woman has decided to eat me."

"Yeah, but this one is taking more than a pound of flesh with her. I'm sure you wouldn't want that."

"No, and neither would my mares."

"I don't know," I said, trying for a reflective tone rather than amused, but missing horribly. "I bet Sable is so far into her pregnancy she's now cursing your pound or two of flesh and hoping it'll disappear for quite a while."

"No doubt about it," he said with a smile. "But when she comes into heat again, it'll be a different story."

"She's not a baby machine, you know."

"She's a mare. That's what they do."

So much for the enlightened world of horse-shifters. I shook my head and left.

Thanks to morning traffic, it took me close to thirty minutes to get to Lygon Street. Parking was as difficult to find as ever, so by the time I entered Chiquita's, I was a good fifteen minutes late. The cafe was cozy rather than flashy in design, full of intimate tables and seating that wrapped around you and lent a feeling of privacy. Down at the far end of the room was one of those fire - places that looked like logs but was actually gas, and the air was warm enough to almost instantly s.n.a.t.c.h the chill from my skin.

I didn't see Ben straightaway, but a moment later he stood and waved. I couldn't help the smile that touched my lips. d.a.m.n he looked good.

He'd dressed in blue jeans that molded around his strong legs and highlighted the sharp definition of muscles. The sleeves of his red shirt had been casually rolled to his elbows, and emphasized not only the width of his shoulders but the rich blackness of his skin.

He smiled when our gazes met, his white teeth flashing brightly in the gloom. My hormones did several excited skips. I might have been off the casual bandwagon for several months now, but this man had me reconsidering my options.

Or maybe I was simply ready to get back into the hunt again. I might not be over the hurt of watching Kellen walk away, but the break had at least given my bruised heart time to mend a little.

Maybe I was ready to play again, even if I had no intention of taking it further than that for a while.

Of course, knowing fate's sick sense of humor, she'd probably consider that now would be the perfect time to fling my soul mate into the equation.

If he hadn't already walked away, a little voice whispered.

I shoved that thought back into the box where it belonged, and let a smile of appreciation play about my lips.

"You're looking nice this morning," I said, dropping my purse onto the seat before rising onto tiptoes to kiss the side of his cheek. His skin felt good under my lips-warm and slightly roughened with whisker growth-and the taste of him was musky. It was tempting, so tempting, to keep on kissing and tasting, but that wasn't what I'd come here for. No matter what my hormones were suddenly thinking.

"And you're looking a little ragged around the edges." With his warm hands on either shoulder, he stood back a little and studied me critically. "Had a rough morning, huh?"

"Yeah, and the b.i.t.c.h got away." I pulled back from his light grip and slid down onto the bench. The skin still tingled from the heat of his touch, and part of me wished that I could feel that warmth elsewhere.

I crossed my arms on the table and tried to remain businesslike. "So, is Jilli working today?"

He nodded. "She'll come out and talk to us during her morning tea break." He paused and glanced at his watch. "Which is in another ten minutes."

"Then we'd better order some coffee." I picked up the menu and scanned through it, though I'd made up my mind before I even walked through the door. "And I hope your pockets stretch to cake. Chasing crazy bad people always makes me hungry."

"Anything the lady wants, the lady can have."

I looked up from the menu, saw the cheeky twinkle in his blue eyes, and smiled. "I thought you didn't do s.e.x on the first date?" "I don't. But if I take you out to dinner tonight, that would be a second date. Therefore, all bets are off."

I raised an eyebrow as the smile teasing my lips grew stronger. "And who said anything about wanting to have dinner with you? We haven't even experienced coffee together yet. It might all end disastrously."

He laughed. It was a warm, rich sound that overran the babble of noise and had those nearest to us briefly looking our way.

"Wolf, you want me as much as I want you."

"Doesn't mean I'll take you."

He studied me for a moment, his smile fading just a little. Then he leaned across the table, took the menu out of my grasp, and wrapped his large hands around mine. "Someone has really hurt you, haven't they?"

Tears stung my eyes. I looked away, blinking furiously. After all this time, it shouldn 't still hurt this much, should it? "We hurt each other. In the end, he chose the best option for him. I can't say I blame him."

"He couldn't have been a soul mate, then."

I met his gaze again. His dark features were full of a compa.s.sion that was surprising considering he was basically a complete stranger. But maybe he'd been in a similar situation.

I shrugged. "Our relationship had only just begun, but love was definitely part of the equation. It could have developed into more."

He was shaking his head before I'd even finished. "It might have been love-it might have even been a deep love-but it couldn't have been soul mate deep. Trust me on that."

"You say that with such certainty. Why?"

Something akin to grief-but deeper, darker-briefly twisted his features. He didn't immediately say anything, and for several minutes, the noise of the cafe flowed around us as he struggled with inner demons.

"Because I found my soul mate ten years ago." His voice was soft, matter-of-fact, cutting oddly through the shock that ran through me. He could have been talking about a football match rather than the one event every wolf lived for.

But if he had a soul mate, then he wouldn't be sitting here propositioning me.

Would he?

After all, having found his soul mate had never stopped Rhoan.

My gaze went to his. There in his eyes was a torment and suffering so deep it beat to death anything I 'd ever felt in my entire life.

He smiled-a twisted smile that made something deep inside me ache-then added, "I lost her four years ago."

Again, shock ran through me. The soul-mate bond was unshakable and unbreakable. In many ways, it was similar to the bond of a twin. I knew when Rhoan was sick, or in trouble, or hurt. I mightn't be able to read his mind, but I knew him, understood him, and probably better than I knew or understood myself. The soul bond was like that-only deeper. Much deeper.

To lose a soul mate was to lose part of yourself.

"Had you sworn your love to the moon?"

Because if they had, it was even more amazing that he was sitting here sane and whole. I 'd always heard-always believed-that in a moon-sworn bond, the death of one partner meant the death of the other. That one could not survive as a whole without the other. If they did...madness was the end result.

Ben looked remarkably sane for a wolf who had lost his heart and his soul.

"We never performed the moon ceremony, simply because of the job. We both wanted to get out of the business, but to do that, we needed money. And to get money, we had to work."

"And neither of you could do anything else?"

He grimaced. "Nothing else paid as well."

I shifted my hands and squeezed his fingers lightly. As comforting gestures went, it was pretty poor, but then, what else was there? This man had lost his soul mate. There were no words, no actions, that could ever provide enough comfort after such a horrendous event.

"How did she die?"