“Hmm, I real y want to help you, Lyra, but—”
“How about you pack the book up in an airtight wrapping and I can take it with me and send it back to you the same way.”
He shook his head. “That won’t do.”
“Why not?” Frustration mixed with anger was starting to swirl in her stomach like a mini-tornado. Ignoring her comment, he suggested, “How about I come with you to Necropolis and I’ll bring the book?”
She flinched as if slapped. “No. Why on earth would you do that?” Her voice sounded shril , panicked. She’d spent years building walls around herself for protection from emotional pain, and she had a feeling Theron could be the one person who could and would want to break through them. The last place she wanted Theron LeNoir was in her hometown. She couldn’t escape him then, couldn’t shut down the feelings that were beginning to surface.
“I don’t know. It might be fun working on a case with you.”
She shook her head adamantly. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” He smiled, flirtatiously. It made her knees weak.
She wanted to slap herself in the face for acting so foolishly around him. But he had that effect on her and by the way he was looking at her, he damn wel knew it. “I think you and I would work wel together.”
“You don’t have the right qualifications to work with me.”
He lifted his eyebrow seductively. “Hmm. I don’t know about that.”
“Are you going to give me the book?” She sighed, trying not let her anger overwhelm her, but failing miserably.
“Not like this, no.”
“Well, since you feel that way. I’m sorry I have to do this.”
Lyra flexed her fingers.
“Do what?”
Chapter 2
After a twelve-hour flight from France to America, Lyra marched down the hal way of the Necropolis crime lab. She knew she held the key to the murders that had struck fear throughout the city of Necropolis and the surrounding city of San Antonio. The book she carried weighed heavy, not only in her hands but in her mind.
“Lyra,” Gwen, the lab technician, cal ed, poking her head out from her DNA room. “How was Nouveau-Monde? Meet any cute French guys?”
She waved at Gwen but continued on. That was the last thing she wanted to talk about. She’d just about had her fil of those to last a lifetime.
She marched into the staff room where Caine, a vampire and her supervisor, and his human wife, Eve, who had transferred from the San Antonio crime labs, were having their supper break. She walked to the table and slammed down the huge book in her hands. Both Caine and Eve jumped.
“I think I found the real reason for the past four murders.”
With his napkin, Caine wiped up the tea he had spil ed from her explosive entrance. He crumpled the napkin, tossed it into the garbage pail then glanced at Lyra. “Good to see you back.
How was the seminar?”
“Didn’t you hear me? I said—”
“I heard you loud and clear, Lyra, but I stil like to engage in mundane conversations once in a while with a col eague I haven’t seen in a week. Helps keep my civility.”
She sighed. “Fine. Have it your way.” She sat in the unoccupied chair. “The weather was good. It only rained one day. The food rocked, and I think I may have gained five pounds. The seminar was enlightening, and I didn’t snarl at anyone, even when they irritated me.”
Caine smiled. “Okay. Now what about this big book you brought?”
“It’s a rare ancient text that clearly defines the murders as ritual kill ings for the sole intent of eventual y opening a portal to hel .”
Both Caine and Eve looked at her as if she’d just grown horns. They should’ve known by now it was impossible, especial y for a witch of her standing. Those types of things just didn’t happen to witches. Vampires maybe, but never witches.