Lyra shuffled into the staff room, rustling Jace from his maudlin thoughts. She regarded him with her generous eyes; her head was titled to the side like it often was when she looked at him.
Once he had asked her why she looked at him that way. She told him it was because his aura was so explosive and colorful, it was interesting to watch it swirl around his head like a rainbow tornado.
“I’ve come to fetch you,” she told him, a little smile at her pretty mouth.
He smirked. “I was wondering who he’d send.”
“Caine knows that you can’t say no to me.” She grinned.
“Are you okay with going?”
“I don’t mind humans.” She shrugged. “I’m enlightened, and hold no prejudices.”
“Hey, I’m not prejudiced,” Jace argued.
“Yeah, right.” She smirked. “Are you coming? Or am I going to have to tell everyone in the lab that you’re too chicken to go into the city?”
“Jeez, I’m coming.” Jace pushed off the table and followed Lyra out of the room.
As they walked down the drab hallway to the elevators, Lyra glanced up at the ceiling in front of her. She nodded.
Jace knew she was having a silent conversation with her dead grandmother. It had been peculiar at first to watch the little witch converse with thin air, but Jace had gotten used to it. Especially after the time he scoffed at Lyra’s ability to talk to the dead and an icy wind had nearly ripped his jacket off his body. And that night he suffered from very vivid nightmares of being chased around by zombies.
He never doubted her again after that.
“Is your gran saying something about me?”
Lyra glanced over her shoulder at him and shook her head. But he saw her shoulders stiffen then relax. And he saw the flicker of fear cross her face.
He tensed. “What did she say?”
“Nothing. She’s just making small talk,” she said. Her scent subtly changed.
She was lying. But he wasn’t positive he wanted to know why.
Chapter 2
T here was a crowd hovering around the abandoned house when Jace and the rest of the team pulled up to the curb in their black SUVs. Jace had no qualms thinking it was because of the guest investigators and not the murder itself.
Before opening his door, Jace glanced over at Lyra sitting in the passenger seat. She was staring at him.
She smiled and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
“Bite me,” he growled.
Chuckling, she opened her door and slid out.
He took in a few deep breaths. Already, his chest felt tight and his neck ached from tension. The drive to San Antonio had nearly killed him with the moon winking at him seductively through the windshield. But he had fought the urge to pull over, shift and race across the open land. Although even now, he could feel the moon singing to him.
He was unsure if he could hold it together if he looked up and caught the moon’s gaze. He’d have to get out of the truck, grab his kit and get inside with his head down.
Taking in another deep breath, Jace opened the door. The refreshing night air felt like heaven on his skin. The odor of moldy, wet wood and putrid waste floated over him. It made him shiver with the need to escape.
He jumped out of the vehicle and rushed around back to grab his kit with his gaze glued to the ground. Once he had his hand wrapped tight around the handle of his stainless steel suitcase, he followed Caine, Eve and Lyra up the sidewalk to the dilapidated house.
They passed several uniformed cops going up the cracked cement walkway. Jace could detect a variety of emotions wafting off them. Animosity and fear were the major ones. But there was also curiosity. It smelled sickly sweet like corn syrup. That was the human response he hated the most.
The emotions he smelled now reminded him of the stinking filthy crowds that had paid to see him when he was a child. This crowd shared the same morbid curiosity that the others had as they had watched the poor little boy covered in fur stalk around his cage.