The man in the suit grunted. “Can we move on to my problem, please?”
Caine turned his attention to the man. Eve could see a slight rise in the way Caine stood, a shifting of his shoulders, a tilting of his chin. A predatory stance? She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised by it. Males of any species showed aggression when confronted by another male. It was natural. However, for some reason, she really seemed to notice it in him.
“And what is the issue, Mr. Porter?”
“I’m losing money keeping this room quarantined.”
Eve glanced sideways and looked into room 210. She was itching to get inside and look around. She imagined Caine’s team had done a thorough job of collecting the evidence, but sometimes fresh—even foreign—eyes could pick out things that they couldn’t see.
She tapped Caine on the arm and motioned to the room. “May I?”
He nodded briefly. “Just look, don’t touch.” Dismissively, he then turned his attention back to the uptight man in the suit, the hotel’s owner, she assumed.
“Mr. Porter, this room is a crime scene, and it will continue to be blocked off until we are satisfied that we’ve collected all the evidence we need to solve this case.”
Eve opened her kit, snapped on a pair of latex gloves and wandered into the room, leaving the men to argue. She took small measured steps on a straight path, trying to note every detail: The way the room was arranged, the smell of disinfectant and the sharp metallic odor of blood. She set her kit down on the floor and neared the bed.
Back at the lab, she had looked over the crime scene photos briefly. But she remembered the way the girl looked sprawled out on the bed, as if she were viewing it right now. The grisly image had been ingrained in her memory. The way her arms were splayed out to the sides, and her legs spread. To Eve she had looked like a five-pointed star positioned like that. A pentagram, Eve had thought. The symbols written on the girl’s bare chest and stomach had been foreign to Eve. She’d never seen anything like it. However, she didn’t need to be a witch to comprehend that the girl had been an unwilling part of a spell or sacrifice of some sort.
Why and how had the girl come here? Where would she have met a vampire?
For the most part, the existence of the Otherworld community was a guarded secret from the rest of humanity. Because of its proximity to San Antonio, some people knew of the undead city and its inhabitants. Those in law enforcement had been made aware, and each of them had to sign a contract that kept their silence and prevented them from speaking about the Others to anyone. If that silence was broken, the perpetrator was severely dealt with.
Eve had signed such a contract when she was hired as a forensic investigator. There had been lots of speculation on what the otherworlders were like, lots of misinformation and prejudice. She had read the files on each of the species, on each of the OCU members, but it didn’t prepare her at all for the reality of the situation. She was as ignorant about them here as she was before.
So, how did this young, seemingly innocent girl hook up with a killer vampire? Maybe she had been kidnapped or seduced by his vampiric charms. But if that had been the case, then the vampire had been in San Antonio.
On a hunting trip.
That thought brought shivers over Eve’s body. Shaking her head from her dangerous thoughts, Eve turned from the bed, intent on leaving, and nearly collided with the weasel-like man from the hallway.
He was grinning at her. “Do you need some help?”
Immediately, her heart started to thump in her chest. All kinds of warning bells sounded in her head. “Um, you shouldn’t be in here. This is a crime scene.”
“I know,” he sniveled, then wiped his mouth with his hand. Had there been drool slicking his thin lips?
Eve distanced herself from him and tried to remain calm. “Would you please leave the room?”
He moved toward her. “You smell good, human.”
Eve took a step back, right into her field kit. Two seconds later, she was falling backward.
When she landed flat on her back, the little scrawny vampire loomed over her, licking his lips. He grinned, showing his fangs. Saliva dribbled from his open mouth and down his pointy chin.
Scrambling for anything to protect herself, Eve grabbed the ALS flashlight fastened to her belt. She unhooked it and bashed it across the vampire’s head. The impact of the hard plastic didn’t even make him flinch. He continued to press down on her, baring his elongated teeth. She flicked on the light and flashed it in his eyes. Ultraviolet in the face had to hurt. The vampire shrieked and closed his eyes but continued to close in on her.
She opened her mouth and screamed.
Faster than she could see, the little man was lifted off the ground. Caine stood above her, his hand wrapped tightly around the weasel man’s throat. The vampire’s shoes didn’t reach the ground as he dangled there, held up by Caine’s pure brute strength.
“I could crush you like a cockroach.” Caine’s voice was hard and cold. Eve had to suppress a violent shiver, as the room’s temperature seemed to drop rapidly.
Mahina moved around to Caine’s side, an amused look on her face. “Hey, Valorian, put the little bloodsucker down before he pisses in his pants and ruins your crime scene and your three-hundred-dollar shoes.”
Eve watched as the feral look on Caine’s face faded. She could see him start to relax, letting his shoulders droop. Slowly, he set the weasel down, and then took a step back, his breathing labored but slowing. The room seemed to warm at the same rate as his breathing slowed.
“Take him in,” Caine demanded.