Blood Bath, A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy (The Maurin Kincaide Series Book 4) (5 page)

BOOK: Blood Bath, A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy (The Maurin Kincaide Series Book 4)
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The coven and I didn't see eye to eye on her sentencing. I thought she got off easy and they thought it was my fault they were without a high priestess.

The last time I was there with my sister, some asshole hexed my coffee. I figured having the alpha with me might deter anyone from doing it again. The Daily Grind had the best coffee in Salem and I was seriously jonesing for their espresso. The closer I got the more I felt like a junkie looking for their next fix. I was leaning against the side of the building anxiously drumming my fingers on my leg when Cash finally got there.

"You look like you're detoxing. Let's get you inside b
efore your shakes turn into the sweats." He held the door open and gave me a wink.

Amalie had my order waiting for me. "I saw you outside. I didn't know you were waiting for someone." She gave Cash the once over before throwing me a questioning look.

I just shook my head. We hadn't talked in a while. I missed her and I was starting to believe what she said about not being involved in Mahalia's plot to get rid of me. Plus she basically came to my rescue the last time I was here, serving me when everyone else wanted to toss me out. I just wasn't ready for a heart to heart, especially not in front of Cash. We'd work out the problems in our friendship. It was on my growing 'problems for another day' list.

"Why don't you grab a table while I order
?" Cash's timing was impeccable. He took in Amalie's broken expression and gave me the stink eye.

"I need a
Red Eye and four Splendas too." I turned to find a seat. I could tell Cash was talking to Amalie about more than how he took his coffee. I sighed.
They’re not talking about you.
I was getting better at deluding myself. I zig zagged through the tables until I found an empty one by the windows.

I opened the white paper bag and picked a corner off the warm croissant waiting inside.
Flaky, buttery pastry perfection. I washed down the first bite with a swig of the best coffee in town. This time it tasted like espresso, steamed milk and a dash of cinnamon, instead of something scraped off the inside of a chimney flu. I closed my eyes, barely stifling a moan of pleasure.

"Is that the same face you make when you're whoring yourself out to the Council? How much does it cost to get you on your back?" It was the same asshole as last time. "Waste of a fine piece of ass if you ask me
," the guy sitting next to him said. "Fucking dogs, fairies, and corpses? That's what she chose over a coven member? She's just a worthless psychic, not even a precog, just another Council whore. Hope she gets fleas or maybe she'll get a rash from the fairy dust on her p..."

I flashed through the between, popp
ed up behind him and smashed his face against the table with one hand and vice gripped his balls in the other.

I tr
ied really hard to let the fact he didn't hex my coffee out-weigh his mouth. I wasn't a whore and normally I wouldn't care what some loser with a limp wand said about me but enough was enough. It was high time somebody taught him a lesson.

"Marcus, Marcus
, did you, did you see that?" the friend stammered.

"The only person to treat me like a whore was your pr
ecious priestess. Call me anything except my given name again and I'll make you a fucking eunuch. You have no idea what I am or what I'm capable of. Do we have an understanding?" When he didn't answer right away I squeezed harder between his legs. Marcus let out a groan and attempted to nod his head in between my hand and the table. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you?"

"Yeah, fuck," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"Now say you're sorry." I squeezed again. I practically felt my thumb touching my fingertips through his, well you get the idea. I was giving new meaning to blue balls. If he didn't apologize soon he'd need more than an ice pack down his pants.

This time he cried out. His friend and several other men in the room winced in sympathy. More than one hand moved into a protective cup in front of their zipper.

"Close enough."

Cash grabbed
my arm, wrenching it from Marcus's manhood. Not the smartest move since I hadn't opened my hand yet. Marcus screamed like a little bitch. I let go of his neck and he slid out of his chair to the floor. Cash shoved me away from the table, his hand firmly clamped on my forearm. After using my body to open the door he loosened his grip. "What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"Me? What's the matter with me?" I shrieked. "That guy calls me a whore, not once, not twice
, but like six times. Then proceeds to say I'm screwing a corpse - which is disgusting and I think physically impossible - , a were, and, and a..." I couldn't bring myself to utter the last part. Kellen terrified me. He was gorgeous but a sadist through and through. No way, no way in hell would I get involved sexually with him. I'd be screaming the safe word before he closed the bedroom door.

"As much as I enjoyed watching you hand that guy his ass, and believe me I enjoyed it, it was pretty hot actually
--"

"Having a guy's balls in a death grip is hot? I'm worried about you."

"No, you totally in control, kicking ass, all raw power. That is fucking hot." He jerked me against him. He was on fire and I don't think it was just because he was a wolf. His gaze could melt panties. Too close, he was too close. I pushed against his chest, putting space between us. Big mistake. He laid his free hand over mine, pressing it to the hard plane of his chest. His heart pumped a steady rhythm beneath my palm.

I needed to defuse the situation. "So you dragged me out here like my ass was on fire to tell me that?" Ok
ay, mentioning my ass was not the best idea. His lips curled in a devilish half smile and he let go of my hand. I could tell he was fighting the urge to slide his hand around and into the back pocket of my low rise jeans.

Holy hell, I needed space. This was rapidly moving into not just friends category. There was a line and he was about to cross it. Don't let him.
Maurin, don't let him cross it!
I shouted in my head. Cash was the best friend I had. I couldn't lose that.

The bell on the door to The Daily Grind chimed as Am
alie came out with a drink carrier and a white paper bag. "Remade your order. On the house of course." She gave me a knowing look and I hoped the one I returned conveyed my thanks.

Cash stepped back and I grabbed the
cardboard tray. Relief surged through me, relief and other emotions I wouldn't acknowledge.

"You showed a room full of others you can jump. We agreed you were not going to do that, remember?" He went from sexing me up to dressing me down. My brain was ha
ving a hard time keeping up.

"Oh
, yeah." I didn't have a witty comeback. He was right. I let my temper get the best of me. I hadn't registered my new abilities with SPTF or any of the other Norm organizations that oversaw interspecies relations because as far as we knew there wasn't a classification for me.

I'm unique and in this day and age that wasn't nece
ssarily a good thing. Tensions ran high and it wasn't just the murders causing the widening divide between Others and Norms.

F
actions of the government wanted stricter regulations, more testing. There was whispering of a campaign to create super soldiers, genetically altering the troops by harvesting specific strands of DNA from Others. The Council did not want me in the hands of the extremists. Neither did I. We needed to stop the killer before this case became one more talking point in the argument for the war mongers.

I gave Amalie a sideways glance and headed back to the station. Masarelli hadn't called but I wasn't hang
ing around outside the Grind. A couple benches sat up ahead. We could wait there.

"You should find a new place to get coffee." Cash took the tray from me and wiggled his cup free.

"Why? I'm not going to let some asshat run me out."

"If you're not going to work out things with Amalie, you should find somewhere else to get your caffeine fix."

I stopped walking and stared at him. I hadn't expected him to lecture me on mending my friendship but it looked like that was where this conversation was headed.

"You really should give her a chance to tell her side but if you're not ready to listen
then give that new place a try. She feels bad enough, you ignoring her makes it worse. That and you can't afford to let every, what did you call him, asshat, piss you off to the point of using your magic or whatever you call it. Not unless you want to be the first of us to end up in a lab." He kept walking and I jogged a couple steps to catch up.

He sat on the bench and took a swig of coffee. "All these years I thought the Council was bullshit. Old creatures clinging to the old ways. What I didn't know, what you don't know
, is how necessary we are. Cohabitation is such a fragile thing. All it takes is one charismatic whack job and the next thing you know everyone's drinking the Kool-Aid and we're second class citizens. The thought of... Just do me a favor, don't expose yourself like that again."

"Okay."

Cash’s body jerked forward. I thought he was choking. Or would that be drowning since coffee was a liquid? "Okay? Just like that? You definitely need to find a new place to get coffee because Amalie is obviously putting drugs in yours."

I gave him a sharp jab in the ribs. "W
e've been friends long enough and you've been on the receiving end of my temper on more than one occasion. It doesn't seem to have the same effect it used to. Maybe it's time for a new approach." I chose to ignore the furrowed brow and downcast eyes over the word friend. "I'll try. It's the best I can do."

He looked like he wanted to say more but I wasn't ready to hear it. I might never be ready to hear it. Avoidance was working for me so far,
no sense changing tactics now.

"New topic. Well
, not really new. Actually it's kind of related."

"Related how?" He scrambl
ed to catch up.

"The case. I had a bad feeling when I walked in the st
ation earlier, what you just said confirmed it." I could tell his mind was still on the things he hadn't said but my next statement would bring him back to reality. "Salem looks on the brink of martial law."

"Over five dead girls? There's no evidence of foul play." He was back on track. Thankfully.

"Probably seven if Masarelli’s hunch is right. The M.E. hasn't said murder but he hasn't said suicide either. The station was wall to wall with uniforms from every division in the state. They're about to head out on a search for the two missing girls. As soon as they clear out I’m looking at what they've got. We're waiting for Masarelli to call."

"Why are we waiting for him to call? Is that normal? I was under the impression you still had pull as liaison."

"I do, well I did. This case is getting away from him thanks to a leak. A leak I think might be working for the politicians pushing for more testing. So far Masarelli’s rogue theory hasn't gotten out but he's going to lose the case if he doesn't get his house in order. They're running info though the FBI database. And the so called search and rescue looks more like search and destroy with all the different departments involved.


The only thing keeping it with Masarelli and SPTF is the proximity of the five bodies and the psychics on his payroll. Imagine what they'd be doing if they thought they were looking for an Other.

“Plus, s
omeone doesn't want me working this case either. They're bringing a precog up from Bristol. I mean if there's any chance of them finding the two girls alive they need a precog but Masarelli said
they
didn't want to bring me in on this. Who's they and why don't they want me involved?"

"Maybe the rogue theory isn't so secret after all
and they don't want the Council involved."

Before I had time to chew on that interesting tidbit the Pink Panther theme blar
ed out of my coat pocket.

Cash laugh
ed as I read the text. "All clear. Let's go."

 

 

 

5

 

 

 

Masarelli led us into the interrogation room. I was spending more time in here than when I was on SPTF's payroll. I wasn't sure I would call the items spread over the table evidence. It was more like a few personal effects. No weapons or bloody clothes, just trinkets and a couple pieces of jewelry.

"Is this it?"

"They were found naked in their bathtub. What did you expect?" Masarelli had a point.

I didn't know what I expected but staring at the table I knew I needed more. I wasn't get
ting more help so I had to do my best with what I had. I picked up a necklace first. It was old. Older than the girl who wore it when she died. A tarnished Gothic cross hung from a simple silver chain. A small diamond chip adorned the center of the cross. I took a deep breath, pulled on the energy that made me a psychometric and got nothing.

What I
felt was Masarelli’s eyes boring into my back. I grimaced as wave after wave of anticipation hit me. I closed my hand around the cross, the points digging into my palm, and concentrated on the girl. The precog would know I handled it now but I needed a stronger connection. There was no memory link to the dead. Sometimes the residual imprints were clear and other times, like now, muddled. I blocked out Masarelli’s emotions - and the undercurrent of power from Cash's wolf - and focused like a laser beam on the first memory rippling to the swampy surface of the dead girl's imprint.

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