Federal Paranormal Unit Bundle: Shape Shifter Paranormal Romance (21 page)

She couldn’t make out more than those distant words. The voice was distorted. Darkness surrounded her. A thick, heavy blanket of fear and pain clawed at her throat. It was hard to breathe. Hard to think. Her vocal cords wouldn’t work. She was stuck in the nightmare. The darkness grew overpowering with its evil. Almost ready to take over her, calling out for her to join it. To be a part of its destructive path.

Everything shifted in a heartbeat. The same heartbeat that thundered so loud in her chest. She saw a river. Something floated slowly in it. Like a giant log or something else. Grass crunched under feet with each step closer to the water. The sound of the rushing water helped guide her. Everything was so foggy.

Anxiety spread through her, almost paralyzing her in place. She kept blinking, hoping to get the view into focus to no avail. She blinked. Her breath froze in her chest. The scene changed again. Water surrounded her now. No longer by the edge, she was smack in the middle of the river, water lapping at her sides. The thing floating was a body. And she couldn’t make out the face, but she did see a tattoo clearly. It was a purple rose the size of a quarter.

Then she was gone.

Cynthia’s phone ringing jerked her out of her dream. She gasped, sitting up in a rush.

James’ arm tightened around her waist. “Are you okay, love?”

She smiled into the darkness. Though thick with sleep, she heard the concern in his question.

“I’m okay. I just need to take this call,” she said and tried to reach over him for the cell on the bedside table.

He turned on the lamp by the bed and passed her the cell phone.

“Cyn?” Tonya.

“I’m here. Tonight was a little better than normal.”

“Tell me. What did you see?”

Their routine. Cyn closed her eyes and went through the details of her dream with her friend.

“This is the second time you’ve dreamed of the doll.”

“I know,” she murmured, aware that Brock sat next to her, rubbing a hand up and down her back without saying a word.

“It is very significant. What about the girl? Is it your cousin?”

“No, I don’t know who she was or why I dreamed of her.” She leaned into Brock’s touch. The heat from his body called her closer, to bask in his strength and have no fear.

“Remember, your dreams are special. You can’t force them,” Tonya said. “You have to let them tell you the story.”

She breathed. “I know. I’ll relax.”

“Alright. Have a good night, dear.”

“You too, Tonya.”

She leaned further into Brock’s embrace, curling into his arms and rubbing her leg up and down his.

“Nightmare?”

“Vision. A pretty clear one as opposed to my usual, but it freaked me out a little.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

A smile tugged at her lips and joy at her heart. Brock would never let anything happen to her, and he didn’t even need to say the words for her to know that. Maybe it was time she started rethinking the idea of being his boss. Leaving him once was hard. But leaving him again, that would kill her from the inside.

SEVEN

Cyn cleared her throat. She watched Brock over the rim of her cup. Her body was still quivering from the way they’d come together. When his gaze rose from the diary to meet hers, she almost groaned. His eyes were bright with his animal’s power, and the pull he’d always had on her intensified after he’d bitten her. He’d never done that before.

“Have you made out anything from these?”

She blinked her very dirty mind to focus. Last night was over. So was the time in the hot tub. This morning in the hot tub. And the shower. The bed too. All four times. Fuck she needed something to control her new nympho status. “I think so.”

With a soft clinking, she placed the coffee cup down on the table. Pointed to the page he had opened. “Those are clearly initials. Based on some of the names we already have, I’d say they belong to first and last names. I’m not sure what the middle underlined letters, or the numbers beside them stand for.”

The ringing of his cell phone made her glance at him. He had an intense frown when he answered. “Brock,” he said in that rough voice that shoved her thoughts to the gutter. “When?” He rubbed a hand behind his neck and met her gaze. There was concern there. A lot of it. “Where? Okay, we’ll be right there.”

“What’s going on?” she asked the moment he ended the call. Her own cell phone buzzed quietly on the table. One glance at the screen and her mood turned sour. Galvez. This was the second time he called since she’d gotten up. She refused to answer his calls. All his messages were the same. Wanting to make sure she was okay. She’d be a hell of a lot better if he left her alone.

Brock covered her hands with his own. “A teen girl’s body was found by the river. They need someone to go see it. They think it might be Roxy.”

She nodded, mind gone numb from the unexpected message and stood. “I’ve seen photos of her. I’ll do it.”

Before she got a chance to step away, he hauled her into his arms. She’d been dreading this. And now her fear was a reality. Her heart broke for her aunt Clara and for Roxy. Cyn buried her face in Brock’s shirt, inhaling his scent and allowing his warmth to calm the sadness threatening to overwhelm her.

She sighed. Then glanced up to meet his worried gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

A thick knot threatened her ability to speak, so she ignored her earlier words and lifted on her tippy toes to brush her lips over his. “I know. Let’s go see if this girl is Roxy.”

Her nightmares rushed forth then. A girl’s body floated in the river—lifeless. She hadn’t been able to make out features in her dreams, but she’d known the girl hadn’t made it. The gray tone of the skin told her this was someone who wouldn’t see another day. Another smile. Nothing.

She swallowed back the dryness in her throat. If Roxy was the girl she dreamed of, she’d have to break the news to her aunt—a woman who was already emotionally unstable.

The drive to the local hospital was tense and quiet. Her muscles ached from how stiff she held herself. If Roxy was dead, her next problem was finding out who killed her cousin. But what if it wasn’t Roxy?

Brock’s car took a corner at high speed, hitting a bump on the road. She bounced in her seat, ass slapping on the leather. She winced and bit her lip. Fear centered in her chest. Her fingers went numb from how tight she gripped the handle above her head. Acid burned its way up her throat. She shouldn’t have had coffee.

The screech of brakes told her they’d arrived. She blinked out of the mental images of death and glanced up at the Holy Oaks Hospital.

They went through the main hospital entrance in hopes someone would be able to direct them to the morgue.

Cyn inhaled slowly. She hated this part of her job. Hated it. Seeing lifeless corpses wasn’t something new to her, but it still sucked every time. They were directed to take an elevator to the sub level and sign in.

A guard sat there. His short buzz-cut appeared freshly done. A kid. The young buck’s unhappiness was clear. He didn’t want to be there. He played with the buttons on his radio with a frown. “Can I help you?”

She was about to open her mouth when Brock showed the guard his badge. “We’re here to see the body of the young girl found today,” he answered, threading their fingers together and holding her hand hostage.

“Is Dr. Nuñez expecting you?”

“Yes,” Cyn cleared her throat. “We’re here to see about identifying the body the police found late last night.”

At that moment, a door opened. The metal slapped concrete with a resounding boom. Seconds later, a tall Hispanic man with a shaved head and glasses headed toward them. The closer he got, the more she noticed the red spots on his white lab coat. Blood. He stopped in front of them, face crinkling with a warm smile.

“Ms. Vega?” he asked, glancing back and forth between Cyn and Brock.

“Yes,” she shook his hand and glanced up at Brock. “This is my partner, James Brock. He received the call about the body from our office in Virginia.”

“I’d like to say it’s nice to meet you both, but these are not the best circumstances to meet anyone. Still, welcome to Holy Oaks.” The ME smiled. “I’m Dr. Raul Nuñez. If you follow me, I’ll take you to see the body.”

Cyn caught Brock watching her. She blinked and made a face, wondering what he was thinking.

“Thank you, Dr. Nuñez,” she hurried to walk beside the ME, leaving Brock to follow. “Can you tell me how long you’ve lived in Holy Oaks?”

Their steps echoed down the hallway on their walk. She tried not to wince at the ugly green color on the walls. That vomit-green with poor lighting was the stuff of nightmares. Hers, mainly. How many people could admit to dreaming of the future death of others? Not many.

“I’ve been here for about two years. Transferred in from Florida when the old ME retired,” Nuñez answered, opening the same door he’d appeared out of earlier.

“Do you know many of the people in town?” Cyn tried to keep the inquisition to sound like mere pleasantries, but it seemed there were secrets everywhere. Every person she met she wanted to interrogate.

“Not really. I have met some of the more prominent townsfolk. The Landleys. The Kemps. And the Torrents.”

She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her heartbeat increased with each step. They were going down a new hallway. The air tasted stale. No other noise sounded around them. Only their footsteps. At the end of the hallway, she saw the large block letters she’d been dreading. Morgue.

“Tell me about the girl they brought in,” she mumbled, tripping over her own feet. Thankfully, Brock was there, holding her, before she got a chance to fall flat on her face.

Nuñez grabbed gloves from the box at the door and turned to give her an earnest smile. His friendly brown eyes dulled for a moment. “She was young. Nobody that young should die like that.”

How?

Cynthia glanced over her shoulder at Brock. His eyes were bright. Almost glowing, but not quite.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

His lip curled into a small grin. “I’ve done this before, love. I’ll be fine.”

Good to know. That wasn’t what she was asking though. She sighed. Brock was really good at trying her patience. Except, unlike Galvez, she allowed him to get away with it.

They marched toward the wall covered with dingy-gray doors no bigger than a window. Nuñez yanked one open, the metal creaking and adding a new sense of creepiness to the place.

He tugged out a metal board holding a body covered with a sheet. Cynthia gulped. Her stomach burned, and her muscles ached from locking them in place. Dread overpowered her. She hadn’t had to identify a family member before. She’d always hurt for the families she’d escorted to do it, but it was different when it was your turn. It was hell.

Nuñez carefully peeled away the sheet to reveal the face of a teenager. A beautiful blonde girl with pale skin. The teen had a nose, brow, and lip piercing.

“That’s not,” she struggled to get the words out, “Roxy.”

She couldn’t move. Her legs were rooted to the spot she stood at for a moment. It was as if her body hadn’t caught up with the fact that this wasn’t her young cousin.

Nuñez nodded and made the move to cover the girl up again. “I thought it might be a stretch, but she’s been the only teen recently reported missing here.”

“Hold on a second,” Brock ordered.

He brushed past Cyn, glancing at her with too much interest. There was that concern in his eyes again. She knew he’d smelled her fear and distress. After a few quick breaths, she’d followed behind him to get closer to the body.

“You mean to tell me no other missing person's reports have been filed in this place?” Even she heard the surprise in Brock’s voice.

Nuñez shrugged. He was tall, but when Brock stopped by his side he made the ME appear almost child-like. “This is a small town. Everyone knows everyone’s business. Teens go two towns over for excitement or to the nearest big city. Most of the time if they leave, they don’t return.”

Cynthia watched Brock. He stared at the body intently. “Do you know what this girl died of?”

“She had multiple gashes on her back from what might be a whip or a belt buckle. I’m still trying to figure it out. That didn’t kill her though. She suffered massive trauma to the head. Something big and heavy cracked her skull.”

“Let’s see the rest of her,” Brock said. His voice was low but commanding.

Nuñez pulled the sheet to show the girl’s naked body.

“She’d been floating in the river when one of the local fishermen caught sight of her and called it in.”

Cynthia reeled back. The girl had a tattoo on her leg. The same one she’d seen in her dreams. There was even a leaf next to it. Air pounded in and out of her lungs in harsh pants. She curled her nails into her hands and willed the bile, burning her throat, down.

“She was clearly bound,” Brock’s voice snagged her to the present.

She glanced at the girl’s wrists. There were small ligature marks. The type obtained from something thin cutting into the skin.

“Rope?” Cyn asked.

“Might be wire,” Nuñez answered.

Brock leaned down, way too close to the body. “I think it’s both wire and duct tape.” He met Cyn’s gaze. “There’s glue residue there too.”

Cyn glanced up at the blonde. Her eyes were closed. It tore at Cyn’s insides to see someone so young dead. But it wasn’t Roxy. That meant her cousin was still out there. Missing.

A phone’s ringing broke through the momentary quiet.

Nuñez tore off a glove and reached into his pocket. “I’m sorry, but I have a meeting to go to.”

They left the building together. Cyn’s thoughts centered on Josh Landley. She had to see him. Figure out if he might know where Roxy could be.

She gave her card to the ME at the entrance to the hospital. “Please call me if you think or hear of anything that could help us find Roxy.”

He nodded and waved them away.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Brock said after a few solemn minutes on the road.

“That’s the girl from my dream last night.” More like a nightmare. It wasn’t every night Cynthia woke up screaming from one of her hazy visions. “I don’t know if I’m over reaching, but I think she’s somehow tied to Roxy’s disappearance.”

She watched him drive. Pure muscle defined his arms. It didn’t matter that he wore his usual black T-shirt and jeans. The way the shirt hugged his body, she could make out his abs right under the cotton. All that muscle. So smooth and hot. She had real problems to let her mind constantly stray to his body. She licked her lips and focused on the matter at hand. Roxy.

“If she’s somehow tied to my cousin, I need to know how.”

Brock glanced at her. The muscle at the side of his cheek flexed. “I guess we should go question the boyfriend.”

“You know, we’re not here on official Bureau business. We can’t just go interrogate people. We have to try to get them to talk to us.”

He winked. Lord, he winked. A soft rumble of a chuckle sounded from him. “You haven’t seen me in action yet, love.”

Oh, she’d seen him in action all right. Last night. This morning. If she ignored all the warning signs her mind was sending her way, she’d see him in action again later. When they’d been in college, they’d been young. Not that it stopped how hot they’d been in bed. Or how explosive things turned when they came together. Hell, they’d destroyed several beds in the years they’d been a couple.

Another one of his chuckles brought her mind from the gutter to the present. “Remembering us in bed, love?”

“No!” Yes!

Fucking hell.

He laughed harder. “I can tell when you’re lying, Cyn.”

“I’m not lying.” Much. “You’re the one who keeps bringing things back to sex.” It was just easier to blame him than acknowledge the fact that her previously non-existent sex drive had reawakened the moment James came into the picture. She really did have bigger problems than she realized.

Her cousin was missing. She’d had two dreams in just a few days. Dreams of the future. To top it off, her body was an orgasm waiting to happen thanks to Brock.

He pulled to an unexpected stop on the side of the dirt road, put the SUV in park and turned to her. “We’re going to find your cousin. Then, you’re going to tell me why you’re so afraid to be with me.”