the guy hadn’t mentioned demons at all. She supposed she should be grateful for that. Thousands of years of propaganda foisted on humans by various religious establishments had definitely made demons out to be the bad guys. Some of that negative press wasn’t wrong. Okay, most of it was pretty accurate.
Since she was only half demon, though, she considered herself one of the good guys. Most of the time, anyway. And it was her somewhat unique heritage that had landed her the job as one of the liaisons between the region’s Council of Preternaturals and the local authorities. That hadn’t earned her many friends on her mother’s side of the family, because most demons wanted nothing to do with the council. They figured it was their right to live and kill others as they pleased. Her mother had been downright pissy about Nix taking a job with the council, but Nix didn’t see any reason to placate a mother who’d been mostly absent from her life, letting Nix’s paternal grandmother raise a child she’d resented and sometimes had even seemed to hate.
As Nix neared the crime scene, she paused outside the taped-off area and grabbed a pair of shoe covers to put over her boots. In between two tall saguaro cacti, she braced herself against the wall of the building and slipped on the covers. Flashing her ID at the uniformed Scottsdale police officer, she ducked under the yellow crime scene tape he held up for her. Taking care where she placed her feet, she walked several yards to where a corpse was covered with a black tarp. She pulled a pair of latex gloves out of her purse and with a sigh squatted down, slipped them on, then folded back the plastic sheeting.
Under the setting sun the blood appeared dark and dull on the victim’s face and streaked the once beautiful but now grimy blond hair. Vacant blue eyes, clouded over, still held a look of surprise in their depths. In death her fangs hadn’t retracted, the tips resting against her lower lip.
Nix’s heart gave a thump. She knew this victim. Amarinda Novellus. Nix would never have thought she would see her like this. She blew out a breath and lifted the tarp higher to see more of the body. What was once designer clothing hung in bloody tatters. The rib cage gaped open, some of the bones broken. Most of the victim’s internal organs were gone. One leg lay bent beneath her at an unnatural angle. Her right arm was at her side, palm down, while the left one was bent above her head. All of her fingers were gone; no doubt her attackers had removed them to hide the bits of flesh and blood Amarinda had gouged out of them with her nails. Deep slashes scored her forearms, her thighs. She hadn’t gone down easily.
There were any number of preternaturals with the capacity and the desire to do this sort of thing, but the suspects greatly decreased when victimology was taken into account. Vamps were strong. Really strong. And fast. Even alone, this one should have been able to defend herself against almost anything.
Except there’d obviously been no defense against whatever had done this to her. At this point it was difficult to tell whether she’d been gutted by claws or knives.
A pair of men’s scuffed brown shoes moved into Nix’s field of vision. She glanced up past a potbelly to the ruddy face of one of the assistant medical examiners. “George. How’re you doing?”
The porcine shifter scratched the side of his nose with a stubby finger. “Can’t complain. Wouldn’t do any good if I did.”
“Family all right?” she asked. “Your youngest just went off to college, right? How does she like it so far?”
A broad grin creased his face. “Family’s fine, and my baby’s lovin’ the college life. Worries me a little,” he muttered, his smile losing some of its brightness. Knees cracked as he squatted next to her. “Helluva thing,” he said with a slight gesture toward the body.
“Yeah.” Nix sighed. “What d’ya got?”
“Murder by person or persons unknown. Just like the one yesterday.” At her exasperated look he shrugged. “What do you want from me?” He gestured the length of the body. “She’s been cut open and disemboweled. The how of it I’ll know once I get her on the table. The why of it’s your job. I can tell you she fed within the last twenty-four hours. That’s determined by how soft and