Blood Secrets - By Jeannie Holmes Page 0,29
were replaced with Damian and Morgan striding toward them. Damian still presented his carefully constructed neutrality, while Morgan beamed, her attention clearly focused on Varik.
He maneuvered around Alex to stand a step or two in front of her.
As the primary investigator for the case, it fell to him to greet the new arrivals. Alex could sense the conflicting emotions—anger, anxiety, dread, sadness—roiling within Varik. Pieces of memory filtered through the bond to her, but they were disjointed and she couldn’t make sense of them.
“Bonjour, mon amour,” Morgan said as Varik stepped up to greet her, hand extended. She ignored his hand and cupped his face in her hands, lightly brushing his lips with her own.
Anger curled Alex’s hands into fists.
Don’t you dare move. His command filled her thoughts and kept her from rushing forward. He gripped Morgan’s shoulders and firmly pushed her away. His words dripped acid when he spoke. “Hello, Morgan. Don’t ever do that again.”
Morgan thrust out her bottom lip in a perfect pout. “What’s the matter, lover? Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“I’d rather have my fangs pulled.”
Alex tried to disguise her stifled snicker as an aborted sneeze and failed miserably.
Morgan pushed her designer sunglasses to the top of her head. Her hazel eyes had shifted to a bright copper and blazed with contempt.
An approaching vehicle silenced any remark Morgan would’ve made. Alex watched as what appeared to be a four-wheel-drive golf cart sped through the chain-link fence surrounding the salvage yard and stopped in front of their group. The driver surveyed them with uncertainty before focusing on Varik.
“Are you Enforcer Baudelaire?” the man asked.
“Yes.” He moved away from Morgan and Alex fell into step with him. “You must be Buddy Coone.”
The man nodded. “Lieutenant Lockwood sent me to pick you up.” His eyes darted to Alex then to Damian and Morgan. He took in Morgan’s crisp white shirt, navy pencil skirt, and inappropriate high heels. “The terrain’s kind of rough in the yard, ma’am. It might be safer if you changed your shoes. Wouldn’t want you to twist an ankle.”
A quick image of Morgan stepping in a hole, falling to the ground, and breaking her neck flashed through Alex’s mind.
Varik hid a laugh in a cough. Behave yourself.
Alex glared at him. I will if you explain where the hell Morgan gets off calling you her lover.
“I’ll be fine,” Morgan responded, positioning herself beside Varik.
Buddy looked doubtful. “There are ruts, holes, rusted metal, all kinds of things to trip over. Ma’am, are you sure you can—”
“I assure you, Mr. Coone, I’m perfectly capable of navigating the terrain without injury.”
Buddy shrugged. “Suit yourself, but I’ll have to make two trips. I’ve only got room for two of you at a time.”
Varik climbed into the cart’s flatbed. When Morgan appeared as though she was going to commandeer the remaining spot, Alex pushed forward. She shoved Morgan aside with a well-placed hip, grabbed the cart’s roll bar, and pulled herself on the bench seat beside Buddy Coone.
His startled yelp nearly drowned out Varik’s stifled laughter and Morgan’s curse.
Looking over her shoulder at Morgan, she feigned innocence. “Oh, I’m sorry, SI Dreyer. I thought you wanted to change your shoes.”
“Enforcer Sabian, I—”
The whine of the cart’s engine covered the rest of Morgan’s statement. Alex pointed at her ear and shook her head, shrugging.
Buddy directed the cart onto the path leading into the salvage yard.
Once they were out of sight, Varik’s explosion of laughter and pat on the shoulder combined with a surge of warmth over the bond. I love it when you’re jealous.
Alex sat up straighter and adjusted her sunglasses. I’m not jealous.
Oh, yes, you are.
Envy filled the bond and she sighed. All right. Maybe a little. But can you blame me after Morgan pulled that lover crap back there?
No, I suppose not.
Are you going to explain it?
We’re on our way to a body dump. Now isn’t exactly the best time.
The cart jounced down the side of a ditch and fought its way up the other side. Buddy swerved around a row of derelict minivans with clumps of brown weeds growing between them.
Alex noticed gray-black shadows darting among the wrecks and heard the unintelligible whisperings of the spirit world. She wasn’t surprised to find restless souls lingering in the salvage yard. After all, it was a cemetery of sorts and spirits often lingered near objects of significance. Could anything be more significant than the vehicle of one’s demise?
The blood-bond shivered and a short pornographic film featuring her flashed through her mind.
She