Banshee Charmer (Files from the Otherworlder Enforcement Agency, #1) Page 13

  “Jerk,” I muttered. He’d lied to me. Lied to me and slept with me and made me look incompetent in front of my coworkers. I blinked back tears and tried to focus on anything but Aidan. But focus failed me, and I found myself opening my phone to call him back.

  “Hello, beautiful.” Aidan’s voice was smooth. Whatever tabs he kept on me apparently didn’t extend into the interview rooms at the police station.

  “Screw you, Aidan. You lying asshole.” The words spilled out before I could stop them, before I could even think about pretending I didn’t know he’d lied. Before I could come up with any kind of plan other than yelling at him.

  Silence greeted me on the other end of the line.

  “Call me again, and I’ll sic the OWEA on your ass. The real OWEA, not liars like you with plastic badges. Don’t call me again. Don’t try to find me. Don’t even fucking think about me.” My voice cracked, and I shut the phone with a snap. Blinking back tears, I concentrated on breathing. No crying. Not over that lying ass.

  After a few minutes I had myself under control again. I wasn’t going to think about Aidan, but if he had anything to do with Amanda’s death, I’d nail him to the wall. Aggie hadn’t returned the call I’d sneaked while going through paperwork, so poking around the office after hours seemed like my only hope of getting any information on Amanda’s case tonight. Either that, or head back to Sylvester’s and let Kimmy give me the evil eye all night. Or I could call Aidan back and talk to him like an adult.

  Screw that.

  As I dug into my fries and stared at the nearly empty parking lot around me, I considered calling Marisol. As a member of the paranormal division, she would be able to access the records. Maybe. I suppressed a sigh. No, I couldn’t bring her into this. My career was most likely already in the crapper, but hers didn’t have to be. It wasn’t fair to drag her down with me.

  But Claude held sway, and I suspected he was far more powerful than he acted. Not only was he a vampire—and despite the fact he’d never admit it, Vasquez was scared shitless of vampires—but Claude didn’t really need his job. Oh, he seemed to enjoy the work, but the man drove a new quarter of a million dollar car every few months and lived in a high-rise condo in the most expensive part of town. He didn’t need it, not like I needed to find Amanda’s killer. Besides, if he wasn’t willing to help me, he simply wouldn’t.

  I opened my phone and pulled his number from my list of division members’ contact information. The phone rang several times, and then went to voice mail.

  “Claude, it’s Mac, call me when you get this. It’s important.” I flipped the phone shut and tossed it onto the passenger seat. I munched on my remaining fries and tried to think my way through the maze that this case had become.

  If the witch, Natalie, was right, Amanda may very well have led her killer to her doorstep by trying to track him. That meant he wasn’t just an otherworlder—he was knowledgeable about magic. I frowned and took a sip of my Coke. If what Marisol said was true, succubi—and by extension incubi—kept a piece with them of the people they drained. I wasn’t entirely clear how that worked, but if draining one person to the point of death, a person who deserved it no less, had almost killed her sister—hell, had driven poor Elaine to become a shut-in for years after the incident—then what must draining so many women have done to this incubus? He had to be insane, truly mad, if he carried bits of the personalities of the dozen women he’d killed.

  Well, a dozen if Aidan had been telling the truth.

  I muttered an expletive and tried to focus on anything other than Aidan Byrne. But thoughts of him flitted through my mind as if summoned by my determination to banish them. I’d never had a man affect me like he did, never felt such overwhelming feelings so quickly. I stilled, a sudden thought hit me, and my stomach tensed. Could Aidan be influencing me with his incubus power, using more than just his aura, but actually consciously trying to thrall me? He shouldn’t be able to do that, not unless…

  Not unless he’d been draining people.

  No. He couldn’t be, could he? My thoughts scattered and I couldn’t bring them back into focus. Amanda, Aidan, my soon-to-be-shot career, and the OWEA agent and his asshole attitude all scrambled together to muddle my thoughts.

  Screw this.

  I started the car and threw it into reverse. I had to do something. I’d find Claude; go to his house. It had been a year since I’d been there, when Claude had held a small party to celebrate a commendation his partner received. But I could find the place again.

  Swinging out onto the road, I headed east and tried to remember what street Claude lived on. I got a few blocks before I noticed in my rearview mirror the unmarked car several car lengths behind me. A couple of turns later, I was almost certain I had a tail.

  Freaking Greaves.

  I gunned it and swerved hard to the right, turning down a one-way street, and then made the next left. Sure enough, the car followed me. A few more turns and I made my way into some traffic.

  Ten minutes and several miles of weaving through traffic and making dangerous turns later, I’d lost the agent. I grinned and made an illegal U-turn and headed for Claude’s.

  The sound of my cell’s ring filled the air. Sighing, I grabbed the phone, expecting to see Aidan’s number. It seemed far too soon for anyone else to be calling me back the way my luck was running. And the man did not give up.

  I glanced down at the number. Not Aidan, unless he was using a different phone. I frowned. Dare I answer it?

  I dared.

  “Hello.”

  “Detective McLoughlin?” The high-pitched female voice on the other end of the line was panicked.

  “Kimmy?” It sounded like the bar daughter’s owner, but I couldn’t be certain from two words.

  “He’s here!” she screeched.

  “On my way.” I clicked the phone off, shoved the last couple of fries in my mouth and headed for Sylvester’s.

  …

  The crowd at Sylvester’s pressed against me as I made my way to the bar where Kimmy stood. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, glancing around the room. Her eyes found mine and she motioned me to the side of the bar.

  “Where is he?”

  “He asked if he could pick me up after work. I told him to come by at eleven.”

  “Good job.” Way to go, Kimmy. Guess you’re more than a pretty face and a pissy attitude.

  I picked a shadowed corner to sit and observed the throng of people around me. I found crowd watching infinitely more exciting than television.

  According to my watch, I had two hours to kill before the incubus would return to pick up Kimmy. She handed me a glass of beer on her way to deliver drinks. Imbibing alcohol on the job was something I’d normally frown on, but one wouldn’t kill me. Besides, I didn’t want to be noticed, and not drinking anything in a bar might seem odd. Fully rationalized, I took a sip. Not the best I’d ever tasted, but after the crappy day I was okay with mediocre beer.

  By the time I finished my drink and had waved Kimmy away when she offered me a second, it was nearing ten o’clock. My people watching degenerated into staring at the bar while wondering if Aidan was the killer, my brain fuzzy from the beer.

  The pieces fit. He was an incubus, I couldn’t account for his whereabouts when the murders took place, he’d lied to me—multiple times. My gut told me he wasn’t the slayer, but gut wasn’t everything. And, like most of my body parts, the damn thing was likely influenced by my attraction for him.

  I barely registered it when someone touched my shoulder, a mere brush of fingertips. Glancing back, I saw Aidan’s face. It took a second to hit me that he was there, not just in my thoughts but in person.

  He smiled at me. Not the light, teasing grin he normally wore in public, but a dark smile, sexy and dangerous. His blue eyes caught m
ine, and his grin broadened.

  “What are you so happy about?” I slurred. I paused, confused. One beer, even with how tired I was, shouldn’t have made me slur.

  “I’m happy to see you, of course,” he said, and then touched my cheek. His hand slid down my face until his fingers came to rest under my chin, and he tipped it up so I met his eyes again. He lowered his lips to mine and kissed me.

  Suddenly, all I could think of was him and how much I needed him to touch me. How much I wanted to please him. I pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He chuckled, his mouth on mine, and pressed against me even harder. Something was different; I realized in the back of my mind that his kiss was aggressive, foreign. As he tightened his arms around me the thought flew from my head and I could only think of him.

  His soft hair curled under my fingers, stuck in a long ponytail. I yanked at the stretchy band, wanting to see it down around his face.

  He took my hand in his and a wave of euphoria hit me. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered as his hot breath touched my ear.

  Clinging to his arm, I nodded and let him lead me out the door.

  …

  I handed him my keys when he asked for them as we left Sylvester’s. Heart thudding in my chest, I felt almost nauseous I was so excited. I was so lucky that this Adonis wanted to be with me, and I would have sprinted to the car if it hadn’t meant leaving his side. We needed to get wherever we were going so I could show him how much I wanted him, how much I worshipped him. He drove us to an apartment complex not far from the bar. It was a newer building, nice and neat, and equipped with an elevator.

  He pressed the up button and walked in when the ding sounded, holding out his hand for mine. I reached out, eager to feel his skin on mine.

  “Chère,” he whispered.

  I looked up into his dark eyes and my breath flew from me. He was so gorgeous and masculine, and he wanted me. I gave him my hand and he pulled me to him. His lips lowered to mine as the elevator doors closed behind us. He kissed me hard, punishing, but I couldn’t get enough of him, his taste. He pushed me away when the doors opened. I made a small noise in protest.

  “Eager,” he said. “I like that.”

  As we left the elevator, he yanked a set of keys from his pocket. I frowned at the unicorn keychain. The oddity of it disappeared from my mind as we arrived at a door. He unlocked it and pulled me inside, flicking on a light as we entered.

  “Welcome home,” he said, grinning at me.

  My frown deepened. “But you don’t have a home here. You’re from…” I struggled to think. “Somewhere else.” I stared at the slight widow’s peak above his arrogant brow. It was wrong somehow. But that couldn’t be right; he was perfect. I shook my head and tried to grasp my fleeting thoughts.

  “Very true. But for now this is my home.” His voice grew deeper. “Look at me, chère.”

  I looked, meeting his gaze. I took a quick breath. I wanted him so much. My thoughts were no longer important. He was the only thing that mattered. When he crooked a finger at me, I nearly threw myself at him.

  He shoved me against the wall and kissed me, pushing his hard body on mine. Trembling, I moaned and he chuckled under my lips. I pulled him closer, and wrapped my arms around his neck to feel his hair under my hands. I yanked at the holder keeping it confined, and then pulled it off, freeing his flowing mane. As I moved back from the kiss, I took a moment to appreciate the view. His hair framed his face, trailing down over his shoulders. It would be magnificent against his naked chest. I needed to get his shirt off.

  As I tugged at it, a vague warning flitted in my mind. I helped him expose his chest and pushed the thought aside. Yes. His dark hair draped over him, making him look even more wild and masculine. I quivered under his gaze, and then the fleeting idea that had been out of my reach since I met his eyes suddenly hit the forefront of my thoughts.

  “You’re not Aidan,” I muttered, not sure why that fact was important.

  He snarled at me, eyes narrowing, and a low growl escaped from his chest.

  “You’re not him,” I said, more certain of it now. Still, I struggled with that bit of information’s importance. I looked away from him, searching my mind.

  “Look at me,” he commanded, voice low and angry.

  “No.” I tried to move away from the wall, but his arms were on both sides of me, blocking me in.

  “You will look at me, bitch!”

  Power rolled over me, and my head started to turn so I could gaze at him again. I pressed my eyes shut. Sweat ran down the sides of my face. I wanted to look, so much so it was almost painful not to, but I couldn’t. A cry escaped me, a small sound, weak. That bothered me. I wasn’t weak, dammit.

  A veil lifted from my mind, and I could think again, clearly. I lashed out, catching the man—the incubus—square in the jaw with my fist. It wasn’t the best punch I’d ever landed, but his head jerked back, and he stumbled a few steps.

  Staring at him, I realized that I still wanted to touch him, to take the pain from his expression. Rage filled me and I shoved the tender thought away. He was the killer. He had Aidan’s face, and he’d brought me here to rape and kill me. Heat still coursed through my body when I met his angry gaze. Freaking incubi.

  I felt along my back, but my gun was gone. I’d given the 9mm to someone on my way out of the bar. The memory was vague, but I was certain that person was Kimmy. The apartment, I noticed, was covered in feminine design. A flowery couch, lavender paint on the walls, a vase full of flowers on a table in the hall, next to where he’d pushed me against the wall to kiss me. This was probably her home. How long had she been keeping him here? The whole time he was in town? Or just since the heat turned up on him after he killed a cop? He was using her, enthralling her, for a place to stay and a convenient bar to find victims, no doubt.

  “Look at me, chère,” he whispered, moving closer. His voice had calmed, but his wide eyes were still wild, angry. His mouth formed a smile. He was enjoying himself. I glanced down at his jeans and flinched. Enjoying himself indeed.

  I smiled back at him, and his posture relaxed somewhat. I took a deep breath slowly so he wouldn’t be alarmed.

  Then I screamed.

  Glass shattered from the kitchen, and the incubus dropped to his knees and yelled, covering his ears. He was too late. Blood ran down the sides of his face. I reached the end of my breath and sucked in air for another scream as I inched back toward the door to the apartment. Some otherworlders were able to resist the effect of my screams, and I didn’t dare release my full power in an apartment complex to ensure he would be knocked out cold. That kind of power was likely to injure Kimmy’s human neighbors, and knowing my luck there’d be a sick person living next door who would be pushed over the edge from illness to death by my scream. I couldn’t risk it.

  As I sucked in one last breath, I reached for the doorknob behind me. Blood flowed freely down the incubus’s face, and he clung to his ears and crouched, flinching away from me. Satisfied he would keep for a few minutes while I got backup, I turned away to find the doorknob, keeping my breath held in case I needed to unleash another scream. Movement flashed behind me. Something slammed against the back of my head.

  The world went black.

  Chapter Eleven

  I awoke to the sound of a car engine purring, vibrating under my ear. I tried to move and regretted the attempt, as pain shot up to my shoulder. Tied up, my arms were behind my back, secured with handcuffs—my handcuffs most likely. My feet were tied with some sort of rope, and a rough fabric filled my mouth, kept in place with a tight gag. I struggled to breathe through my nose, pushing down the panic building in my chest.

  Think. There’s gotta be a way out of this. Stay calm.

  I tried to move my body, to look around the vehicle, but only succeeded in moving my head. Breathing through the blacknes
s that threatened to overwhelm me again, I checked out my surroundings. I rode in my Toyota, the gray interior flashed into view from the occasional streetlight. The asshole had shoved me into my own car.

  Where was he taking me? Mentally kicking myself for turning my back to the incubus, I still couldn’t believe he’d recovered so quickly, fast enough to get up off the floor and hit me with something. The vase from the hallway table? He’d moved quickly enough to get us both out of the building before the police arrived. He was quick. A banshee scream tended to get noticed and reported pretty damn fast. How had he been able to shake off my scream like that? Maybe I’d just lost my touch.

  Or maybe incubi were more resistant to a half-banshee’s powers than I’d like.

  I’d certainly resisted his seductive abilities better than I expected. Whatever Kimmy had slipped into my drink seemed to make me instantly susceptible to the incubus’ powers. Once under the thrall of an incubus, it was obviously very difficult to break free, which is why the incubus had felt safe letting even Amanda go about her day after he thralled her. Perhaps the power over me was breakable because we hadn’t had sex? Or had Aidan’s influence somehow protected me from the other incubus?

  The car slowed to a stop, interrupting my thoughts. The grinding of a garage opening sounded. The engine cut out, and I heard the cargo door open behind me. I held still, unsure of how to fight him in my current state, but unwilling to lose any potential edge. If he thought I was still knocked out, maybe he would untie me to finish his plan. I squeezed my eyes shut, and struggled to play dead, when my instincts were telling me to squirm and fight.