Forbidden Touch (6 page)

"Ciera!" Dane said, and she blinked a few times before focusing in on him.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Where is your head? Up your ass?" he asked her, and she smiled because she remembered that floozy little blond at the police department saying the same thing to Mitch a little earlier.

"I was only trying to come up with another method to track the Rogue, Dane. You need something?" She threw Mitch's line at him, but it didn't have the same effect that it had on the blond bombshell, Gracie.

He walked a little closer to her, and laid his hand on her cheek. She backed up a little, and he followed her move with his. "I love you, Ciera. You know how much I want us to be together. Why do you ignore me as if I am nothing more than human?"

If he only knew how she didn't ignore humans anymore. She shook her head and backed away from him. "I'm not interested in love Dane. You're already aware of that."

His expression became solid and stern, pissed to be exact. "And your feelings for this mortal cop, what are they, Ciera? I know that you have not stayed in your apartment in weeks. You have been staying with him!"

Her eyes widened, but she thought quickly. "Only in invisible form, Dane. He is unaware of my presence. I can't miss the chance for him to find the victims' names. If I do, all is lost."

He grimaced. "You are a terrible liar, Ciera. Let you not forget what my special skill is." And with that, he turned and walked away from her.

She let out a long breath. How could she have been so stupid to forget the advantage he possessed? He was the strongest clairvoyant she knew.

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Chapter 8

Mitch woke on Friday morning feeling rested for the first time in a month. He was a little sore from boxing the night before, but he hadn't had any nightmares when he finally did get to sleep. He guessed he had been right to assume the dreams were actually coming from that woman, or thing rather. At any rate, she hadn't shown back up last night after he returned from the gym, or he hadn't thought she had.

It was a crisp clear morning, only the city's smog to smother things, but it was a little too chilly to ride the bike comfortably. So he was stuck driving that damn car. Oh well, he thought as he started the engine, there have been worse things to happen to me lately.

He had forgotten all about the pizza in his race to get ready. He'd been so tired when he went to bed, that he had forgotten to set the stereo to cut off at 6:30. He looked at the clock; it was 7:45 a.m. He only had fifteen minutes to get to work and the traffic was bad, like every morning at this time. It wasn't like he was punching a clock or anything. If his Captain or Lazarus asked where he had been, he would just tell them that he'd been following up a lead on the case and had hit another dead end. With that thought, he decided to drive through Micky D's for a little breakfast and coffee.

He didn't eat most mornings, but had realized lately that he was biting everyone's heads off before lunch arrived. Better to nip it in the bud before it gets out of hand, he thought. He was already dangling off the edge, ready to fuckin' jump.

He pulled in behind only one other vehicle. The place was usually packed this time of morning, but after glancing at his clock again, he realized that he was the one running late. Everyone else was already at their destination for the day.

He ordered a sausage biscuit something-or-other and a coffee, that had to be better than the shit they were serving at HQ. He ate while driving, which was a no-no in this city, but he was the one with the badge. So he stretched the law sometimes, what cop didn't? Well, he knew a few straight-laced cops that didn't even jaywalk, and those narks would write him up a ticket for doing it, so he kept an eye trained on the traffic so he wouldn't run into any of them.

He parallel parked at the station, leaving the evidence of his McDonalds bag in the car. He wasn't leaving his coffee though, which kind of defeated the purpose. If he got busted, well, then he just got busted. He was not drinking that bitter shit they claimed was coffee.

"Good morning, Foley," Gracie said, and batted her long eyelashes as he entered homicide. Guess she had forgiven him for being so rude yesterday. Damn.

"Morning," he replied without smiling and then walked on past her.

"Captain wants to see you in his office. I think his exact words were, "The second Foley gets here, someone, anyone, tell him to get his ass in my office!" she said, imitating Captain Lore to a T. She hadn't been flirting when he walked in, she'd only wanted to be the first one to tell him that he was about to get an ass chewing. And from the look on her face, she had enjoyed it way too much. Guess she was still a little pissed off. Oh well, he thought as he made his way to the Captain's office, not stopping to set his coffee at his desk. If he was going to get chewed out, might as well have an excuse for it.

He opened the door and walked in without knocking. He never knocked.

"Sit down, Foley," the Captain said as he glanced at Mitch above the rim of his glasses. His face was beyond red, it was more a purplish color. He was trying to be calm, instead of doing his usual shouting; that worried Mitch a little.

He sat in the chair in front of the Captain's desk and looked at him squarely. Captain Lore stood and walked around the desk with a newspaper in his hand. Mitch closed his eyes and shook his head. He knew what he would see before the Captain even handed it over to him. He'd seen the two victims in his mind only two nights ago, but they wouldn't have made the paper until this morning.

He took the paper from the Captain and looked at the front page. There were three photos there. He'd only seen two in his dreams; why were there three? Then he looked a little closer at the third victim. He knew that guy.

"See anyone you know?" the Captain said, almost as if he was reading his mind. "There were three guys that brought him to the hospital at one o'clock this morning. They told Gracie that they saw the whole thing happen, said the killer was a cop. They described you, Foley. Care to elaborate?"

It was the big guy that he'd boxed the night before at the gym. "Look, Captain," Mitch said, sitting up in his chair nervously. "I went to the gym last night and boxed this guy. I knocked him out cold, and then I left and went home."

"Anyone gonna be able to verify your alibi?" Mitch could tell that the Captain had concern in his voice, and he was no longer pissed. He would help him if he could.

Mitch closed his eyes and shook his head. "You know that I live alone."

"Look, I'm not going to arrest you. But I am going to need your gun and badge until all of this gets cleared up. If you hadn't shown up for work this morning, they were going to bring you in. It isn't like you to be late, Foley. I tell ya, I was getting a little worried. The reason I'm not hauling your ass to a cell right now is because you are one of my best detectives, and you have been working so hard on this case. I honestly don't think you have done this. I suggest that you find the killer, and find him quick. You're going to be under surveillance, so don't bother leaving the city. Find the killer or you are going to be tried. I'm sorry," he said as he shook his head.

Mitch stood up and knocked the chair across the room. He breathed deeply a few times to calm himself down. He didn't need to be arrested for destruction of property, especially when the property was his boss's. He took his gun out of the holster, his badge off his belt and laid them on the Captain's desk before leaving the office quietly.

He grabbed the large file off his desk and walked out of homicide with his head held high.

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Chapter 9

Ciera walked into homicide behind a big bellied man who had eaten way too many doughnuts in his career. Invisible, of course. She couldn't go out in daylight unless she was in this form. She didn't see Mitch right off, and she hadn't seen his motorcycle outside, or his unmarked car that he rarely drove. She had given him some space last night, and went to her own home. Her family would be watching her closely now, especially Asabel and Dane. She could make absolutely no mistakes. She had cried for hours after she'd gotten home. She knew she would never be able to show herself to Mitch; she would never feel his touch on her skin. She knew they couldn't be together, but now it was confirmed. They would know, then destroy her without a second thought if they found out that she was in love with a human.

She couldn't feel him in the building anywhere, but she had to find him. She stepped back out of homicide when the floozy girl that had been talking with Mitch the night before walked out. She went under a stairwell where no one could see her. She made herself visible, then stepped back out from under the stairwell and went through the homicide door again. There were no windows on this floor, so she was safe from the sun's rays.

It was noisy, but she knew the instant everyone saw her, a pin drop could be heard in the silence. She walked up to the first guy she saw and batted her long eyelashes at him. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open slightly at the sight of the woman leaned against his desk.

"Can you tell me where I might find Detective Mitch Foley? I have some information on the case he's working on." Ciera was good with persuasion. Some of her kind could mess with the minds of others, and she could too, to an extent. But she couldn't use compulsion to make people tell her things or make them do things. That was Asabel's skill, and she was envious of the girl sometimes. The only thing she could do was make humans forget they had seen her after she had fed off them. But any vampire could do that. Making them forget the last few minutes of their memory was the easiest trick to learn. She could make herself invisible, and she was the only one of her kind, that she knew of, that could do that. She was free to walk in the sun like that, where other vampires never would be able to.

"I uh…" He closed his mouth and swallowed, then opened it again to speak. She hoped he got the sentence out this time. She almost rolled her eyes, but refrained. Humans were so slow to get to the point. His brow furrowed. "I think Foley got suspended a little while ago. I think he's a suspect in the case he is working, but they didn't arrest him or anything." He shut his mouth with a snap and looked nervously at Ciera, like he wasn't sure he should've told a civilian that kind of information.

She patted his arm and smiled, even though her blood was racing through her veins at the speed of light. She had to get out of here and find him. How the hell would someone be able to frame him for murdering all of those mortals? "Thank you and…" she looked deep in his eyes, "You never talked to me." He nodded, then blinked slowly a few times. When he could focus again, Ciera was walking away from his desk.

She made herself invisible and ran out of the station, then ran as fast as she could go to Mitch's apartment. It was about five miles, but that was nothing to her. She didn't have a choice but to tell him what she was. They could kill her if they wanted to, but she couldn't let him go down for this.

Mitch drove around town till almost sunset trying to figure out why the three other guys would tell the cops that he drained the blood out of their buddy's veins. And how the hell could he do that anyway without cutting the motherfucker? He wasn't a witch or anything. The thought froze him, and he slammed on the brakes. Tires squealed from behind him, and then horns were blowing. He could imagine that birds were flying as well. He quickly pulled the car over and threw it in park.

Witches didn't exist, not really. But he couldn't think of anything else it could be. It was as if the blood in the victims' bodies just vanished like magic. His eyes widened in disbelief. Could witches be real? Was that how the woman could make herself invisible to him and enter his dreams? It was the only explanation. He sighed. It was too bad that he'd run her off. Maybe she could have fixed all of this mess for him. Or was it her that caused it in the first place?

He put the car in drive again and drove toward his apartment. It wasn't far, but he hit the sirens and put the pedal to the floor anyway. He had to go through that damn file again. There had to be some clue in there to lead him to the real murderer.

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