that she was only five four in her stocking feet. Good thing she had on her three-inch-heel boots tonight. That way, at least, her eyes were level with his chin instead of his Adam’s apple. She met his gaze. “There don’t seem to be any bite marks that could make it a vampire kill, and I don’t see any bites or scratches or tufts of fur on Rinda that would suggest a shape-shifter. Until the coroner can take a closer look, we won’t know if the damage was done by humans with knives or prets with claws and teeth.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You really think humans could’ve done this?” He gestured toward the covered body.
“Maybe.” The editorial she’d read just before she’d entered the taped-off scene came to mind. “Some of the anti-pret groups might have moved from rhetoric to rampage.” She shrugged. “I’ve met some pretty violent humans, especially on this job.”
“Yeah, me, too.” He paused. She could tell by the look on his face he was really hoping humans hadn’t been involved. Of course, if they weren’t, that would mean that both of them would no longer be involved on this case. If this incident were pret against pret, human authorities would back off and allow the preternatural council to resolve the issue. Dante added, “This didn’t happen here. Not enough blood.” He gestured around the site. Criminalists were busy doing their jobs, from those taking photographs and placing evidence in paper bags to the one at the edge of the scene making a video recording. “There should be spatter everywhere, but there’s only what’s on and under her body.”
Nix agreed. “This is definitely a dump site. She was killed somewhere else.” The killing hadn’t taken place that long ago, either. What blood was there was still fresh. One of the human techs walked by, the air disturbed by his movements wafting the rich smell of blood toward her. She could almost taste the coppery tang on the back of her tongue, making her stomach knot even more.
Demons didn’t ingest blood like vampires did, but the smell of the stuff still brought out a primal response. A dull throb set up in her forehead and she brought one hand up to rub under her bangs, willing her horn buds to stay hidden. The last thing she needed was to start showing her demon at a crime scene. None of her human colleagues except Dante knew she was anything but 100 percent bona fide human being. She planned to keep it that way. While most people had settled down fairly well after finding out that vampires, werewolves, and the various fairy folk were real, they were downright hostile about demons. She didn’t need the prejudices of the cops and the crowd gathered on the other side of the yellow tape hindering her work.
“George says based on rigor mortis she’s been dead about an hour. No more than two.” Dante rubbed his jaw. “He went into some mumbo jumbo about how it’s different with a vampire ’cause they’re technically already dead. My eyes glazed over after about the fifth time he said ‘Adenosine Triphosphate.’”
Nix shot him a look of commiseration. The assistant ME was a verbose little shape-shifter who loved the sound of his own voice. Especially when he was able to trot out long, complicated words. She was amazed he hadn’t gone into more detail with her, but maybe he figured he’d already given the information to Dante, so why bother? “So once we have a suspect list we’ll want to check alibis between the hours of two thirty and five thirty, just to be sure.”
Dante nodded. “Hey, can you…” He looked around and lowered his voice. “Can you smell anything?”
Dante was always discreet, and Nix was forever grateful. She took a deep breath and held it, pushing past the scent of blood for other odors. The sounds around her faded as she focused on her olfactory sense. There was a light smell of vamp, some lingering aroma of shape-shifter, but nothing recent enough to support or discount their involvement. There was something else there, though, a smoky odor lingering just beneath everything else, something…like demon.
Nix stilled. Why in the hell would demons have attacked a lone vampire? As far as she knew there had been no blood feuds called. And most demons wouldn’t dare strike out on their own without sanction from their leader. Of course, there was always a possibility that a few had gone rogue and