Furyous Ink (3 page)

“No, I don’t trust the beast. Or myself.”

“Why? You didn’t hurt me.”

“I’m going to leave my card, Meg. If you want to see me, call me. After the full moon.”

“What if I’m in danger? What if whoever’s killing these Amazons decides to kill
me
? I’m a servant of Athena just like they are.”

“Then you’ll solve my problem for me, won’t you? You’re a Fury. You’ll make them pay in ways I never could.”

Chapter Three

It had been unbelievably hard to leave her, especially when her tight pussy had been so wet and ready for him a second time. Marcus had no trouble believing he could lose days fucking her.

But forensics had pulled a print off Galatea’s bag and they’d already had a hit. A local guy named Nicodemus Frost. In certain circles, he was known as Witchfinder. He was an assassin who specialized in supes.

Marcus’ gut told him this wasn’t their guy. A plus B didn’t always equal C—not in the supernatural world. A creature like Frost, he’d never be so clumsy as to leave a print if he was behind the murders.

It made sense if someone wanted him to
think
it was Frost. So he had to talk to the guy, find out who he’d pissed off.

The shorter list would probably be those he
hadn’t
pissed off.

His thoughts were drawn back to Megaera. Even with his body sated once, his beast still howled for her. So did the man. He wanted to take her again, taste her, lose himself inside her.

And that’s what he feared the most—losing himself.

He was afraid if he did, there would be no way back. It was as if he’d climbed aboard a one-way train that was running out of track the minute he’d laid eyes on— No, the second he’d
scented
Megaera Eumenides. He couldn’t even blame the beast, as he’d done all those years ago. Marcus was the one in charge now. When all hell broke loose, the blame would rest solely on his shoulders.

On the short walk back to his Charger, it was with bittersweet realization that it occurred to him he hadn’t thought of Esmerelda Payne in nearly a decade. He’d schooled his mind and body so rigorously, he’d managed to free himself of that demon for a little while.

Now that black cloud of memory and pain welled like a newly thawed fountain.
She
was the reason why he knew Meg wouldn’t be safe with him on the full moon. He wanted Meg, his beast had claimed her…but he’d
loved
Esme.

And he’d killed her.

Marcus hadn’t even thought of her when he’d met the Fury. He was surprised now that Meg hadn’t felt his guilt and punished him. Instead, she’d lain down with him, invited him into her flesh. Trusted him.

Just like Esme.

After Marcus had shown her what he was, Esme had run from him—and he’d killed her. Ran her down like prey.

He’d offered himself to her family. Even gave them the silver bullets blessed by Artemis to put him down.

Even if the Fury called him, he couldn’t see her again. He wanted her too much.

Marcus took a breath and walled off that part of him, scraped it away like so much mold on the last piece of bread. This was why he served. It was his penance. Nothing mattered but stopping these killings.

He connected his iPod to the stereo and turned on a work playlist. The one he always listened to in the early days of a case he was working. The first song was
Closer
by Nine Inch Nails. There was something about that whole album that helped him step out of his own head and into someone else’s.

He strummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove to the address Ian had texted him after they’d hung up. Nicodemus Frost owned a house in the Country Club Plaza district, Sunset Hill. He couldn’t help but wonder how many gallons of supe blood had paid for his lifestyle.

When he pulled up to the gate, Ian was already there, his car parked on the street. Marcus didn’t hesitate to pull up to the security camera and intercom.

“Detectives Marcus Kage and Ian Spinner, KCPD, to speak to Mr. Frost.”

“Please present your badges to the camera, gentlemen,” a female voice responded.

He flipped open his badge and Ian showed his. The gates creaked open and Ian slid into the passenger side of the Charger.

“Did you get anything from the chick at Furyous Ink?” Ian asked.

“Yeah, I did.” He smirked. “She tattooed the girl, but her copier ran out of ink and she didn’t get a scan of the girl’s ID.”

“Yeah, whatever. How do you run out of ink in a tattoo shop? Did you bust her balls for doing it under the table? Threaten to pull her license?”

“No, man. Like I said, it’s a Greek thing.” Kage shrugged. “She didn’t know what the tattoo meant. She’d never seen or done another one like it. The girl came in with artwork and left with her tattoo.”

“So, if it was a Greek thing, did you get her number?”

“I’m on duty, Ian.” Marcus laughed. “It’s not all about getting laid.”

“Then you gave her
your
number?”

“Of course. I gave her my card to call if she remembered anything else.”

“Yeah, right.” Ian rolled his eyes. “You missed a button on your shirt, Mr. It’s-a-Greek-Thing.”

Marcus smirked but said nothing else. He knew damn well he hadn’t missed a button. It was Ian testing his story, the sneaky bastard.

They rolled to an easy stop in front of the house and a butler met them at the door. Human, by the smell of him.

Marcus also smelled something else. Something toxic…something he recognized from the alleyway where they’d found the last vic.

He didn’t think it was coming from the butler but Marcus couldn’t be sure, even as they followed the servant into the foyer, where they waited for Nicodemus Frost. The man in question presented himself shortly after, looking calm and freshly scrubbed.

“What can I do for you this morning, Detectives?”

Marcus had never been formally introduced to Frost, but his reputation was well known and he’d become a fixture in supe and mortal high society. “I’m Detective Marcus Kage,” he said, taking the lead.

“I know who you are. We have a mutual friend.” Frost smiled, the expression just as cold as his name. “So what can I do for you?” he reiterated.

Kage wasn’t sure who Frost was talking about, but he didn’t feel he could press the issue in front of Ian, who had pulled out his iPhone and brought up a picture of the latest victim.

“Do you know this girl?” Ian asked.

Frost’s reaction would have been imperceptible to human instruments and senses, but Kage heard the single skip of his heartbeat as he looked at the picture of the dead girl. He knew her, and he knew her well.

“Her name was Galatea. She worked for me.”

“In what capacity?”

“She was my personal assistant.”

“Mr. Frost, let’s be honest, shall we?” Ian began, but Frost’s eyes weren’t on Ian, they were on Marcus, attempting to bore holes into his armor. “We’re not Vice. We don’t give a damn what she did for your money.”

“Honesty?” Frost’s eyes were still on Marcus. “She wasn’t just my assistant.” They waited for him to continue. “She was my protégé. I have no family, no children, and I don’t intend that to change in the future. I was grooming her to take over my company.”

Marcus read between the lines. He was training her to be an assassin. But Amazons didn’t usually outsource any of their training. They learned to fight, kill and survive alongside their peers. Another game piece in play, but Marcus wasn’t sure where it fit on the board.

“When was the last time you saw her?” Ian asked.

“Last night around eight.”

Ian skipped the other questions they usually asked. What kind of mood was she in, did he know her plans for the evening, what was their interaction like. He went straight for information about the tattoo. “What do you know about her new tattoo?”

Frost’s supernaturally cold eyes narrowed. “What tattoo?”

“She had a fairly new piece on her forearm. It was a great horned owl clutching a tarantula in its talons. If you saw her last night, you should have seen it.”

“No, she was wearing long sleeves. It must have been
very
new.”

“Do you know anyone who would have wanted to hurt her?” Ian asked.

“No. She didn’t date. She didn’t have friends. All she did was work.”

“Did she stay here at your residence?”

“Yes. The guesthouse.” Frost nodded woodenly.

“Mind if we take a look?” Ian asked.

“Whatever you need.” He turned to address the butler. “Davis? Will you escort Detective Spinner to the guesthouse?” He held out his hand to direct them toward the front door.

The group went outside and around the house, where a footpath stretched to the small house. Ian forged ahead, following the butler, leaving Marcus and Frost dawdling behind.

Frost spoke so only Marcus could hear. ”I told her not to get that goddamn tattoo.” He inhaled deeply. “The only thing she ever defied me on was joining her sisters in that vagina cult.”

The heat of his words was completely unexpected. “Do you know who’s killing them? Someone who wants it to look like you? Your fingerprints were on her bag and personal items.”

“There’s an increased presence of Arachnae in the city, but it seems to be a peaceful gathering. I’ve had no other intel.”

“So you don’t think it’s the Arachnae? Do you have any idea the wrath of hell that the Amazon Nation is going to bring down on this city?”

“Fuck the Amazon Nation! If they were so badass, they would have already done something about the murders. And they wouldn’t have recruited a girl who was no more ready to be an Amazon than she was to kill a man. You know who you need to consider?” Frost looked at him meaningfully. “Those wretched bitches at Furyous Ink.”

“I’ve already spoken with Megaera Eumenides.”

“Speak to her again. The Furies’ little ink shop is the only one in the U.S. that’s been sanctioned and blessed by Athena’s priests to mark an Amazon.”

Meg
had
lied to him? She’d said she hadn’t known any of the Amazons besides Galatea. How likely was it that all the victims had been inked at different places, and unsanctioned shops at that? Then he reminded himself that things in their world weren’t always what they seemed. Of course she’d hidden things from him. She had her own reasons to hunt the murderer. He knew that.

“Actually, you’d better get over there and talk to her again now while she’s still breathing, Detective. Athena speaks through the Furies. Chooses the women to add to the tribe who weren’t born of Amazon flesh. It was through Megaera that Galatea was chosen. It was Megaera who signed her death warrant. In doing so, she signed her own.”

Marcus was instantly assaulted by visions of the beast ripping out Nicodemus Frost’s throat. The scent of blood was in his nose, and he found himself wondering what the assassin’s would taste like when Marcus was cleaning it off his fur. His hands curled into fists, his nails erupting into claws and slicing into his palms.

Marcus reminded himself of all the reasons he became a cop. The code he believed in and had sworn to uphold. He couldn’t kill another being based on what he
might
do. And even though it was known Frost was an assassin, he’d never been tried, neither by a human nor supe court.

“Got under your skin, did she, our little Fury?” Nicodemus laughed lightly, with obviously no care for the fact Marcus lusted for his blood. “Did you fuck her, Detective?” He leaned closer. “Did you mark her?”

All of his reasoning and honorable intention disintegrated to ash beneath the fire of the beast. Marcus slammed Frost against the solid brick wall of the manor house. His nails elongated into wickedly sharp claws and blood trickled from Frost’s neck.

“Touch her and I’ll kill you,” he rasped, his voice low and guttural.

But Frost was as cold as his name. He simply smiled into Kage’s morphing face. “Your partner doesn’t know what you are. If you try to kill me, you’ll have to take him to the vampires to scrub his mind. Even then, you may have to kill him. Is that what you want? Your partner to die because you got your cock wet?”

Marcus noticed that Frost had “claws” of his own. His nails were painted with blessed sterling silver—and were currently digging into Marcus’ throat.

He didn’t even feel his flesh as it burned away. It was too close to the full moon and Marcus’ cells were replicating at the same speed the silver was destroying them. “Touch Megaera Eumenides and your silver nail polish won’t protect you.”

Kage suddenly released Frost, his own words echoing in his ears like a gunshot. Meg was a Fury. She didn’t need him to protect her from the likes of Nicodemus Frost. Unless Frost was more than human?

He looked at the man and hated the smug, knowing smile he saw on his face. “Just realized what you were saying, did you? That primal drive to protect her? I’d bet my life you didn’t even know her before today. Furies are worse than Succubi. Filthy creatures,” Frost snarled. “Preying on your goodness, your honor—parasites, glutting until you have nothing left.”

Marcus fought to control his breathing and to keep his own consciousness at the forefront before he suffered an uncontrolled Change and drowned a whole city block in blood. When the red haze over his vision cleared, he looked at Nicodemus again, this time with the eyes of a cop rather than a Lycanos. “I meant what I said, Frost. If Megaera is at fault, she will be punished. But not by you.”

“It seems we’re at an impasse, then, Kage. It’s Megaera’s fault that Galatea is dead, and she must suffer the consequences of that.”