Lucca (8 page)

Juliet’s face turned a nice crimson color of
flushed pink. “You don’t want to know who did this to
your…client?”

“Sure, but it doesn’t mean I want to waste
my morning telling the police what you could easily tell them
yourself.”

“You can’t go.”

His brows lifted. “Am I a suspect,
detective?”

For half a second, she considered it. He
could see it in the way her gaze slid over him as if looking for
one tiny speck of blood. They both knew he’d be up to his eyeballs
in gore if he butchered Leroy.

“Would it be easier if I handed you a
magnifying glass?”

Her gaze riveted to his with a scowl. “Fine,
go. But don’t—”

“Leave town.” A smile tilted his lips.

“No, I was going to say, don’t forget about
the tryouts tonight.”

“Oh, I won’t forget.” He bowed like he would
have in the old days, when Will Shakespeare, Kit Marlowe, and he
would entertain the ladies. He wouldn’t miss practice. It was one
of the bright spots of his day and with Juliet there, he’d also
have the chance to spar with her again. “Until we meet again.”

She shook her head, but he didn’t miss her
sweet smile before she turned away.

Chapter Ten

Zaiden LeGard headed the
Guards of
Judgment
for the preternatural realm, taking care of rogue
beings that refused to follow the rules when they lived among the
humans. Part of the job included clean up measures. Rogues seldom
left their crime scenes unsoiled.

A disturbing 9-1-1 call to the Orange Police
Department triggered his senses, sounding too much like a
preternatural kill. Zaiden used his glamour, shielding himself from
the humans as he entered the house, ignoring the crime tape
plastered on the porch. If needed, he would do a mind sweep of the
humans involved, erasing their memories of ever being here. He
didn’t like to do this. It took a lot of work and there was always
the chance for a human witness to slip by him, causing another
backlash of problems.

If only one human recalled the evil deed,
the individual’s sanity would be in question. Zaiden had seen it
happen. It was never a pretty sight to witness someone being
dragged away strapped in a special white jacket, courtesy of the
designate mental ward.

Zaiden’s glamour kept him cloaked from the
homicide team doing their job. The bloody gore lining the walls of
the kitchen turned his stomach, and he’d seen some gruesome crime
scenes in his time. This one ranked in the top five of overkill.
Leroy was one of the Watchers or so the files claimed. He lived at
the residence for fifty some years. Usually Watchers didn’t stay
that long in one place. When they didn’t age, people became
suspicious. Only, Leroy had aged or at the very least used glamour
to make it appear as if he did. He’d seen the pictures in the file
from the young man to the older gentlemen with thinning gray hair.
To keep up such a strong glamour, he had to be one of the original
two hundred angels sent down to earth to live among the humans.
Only they didn’t sit back and observe. God punished the Watchers,
banishing them from Heaven. Zaiden often wondered how those
originals went on, living century after century without finding an
end to their punishment. Some, he supposed, made the best of it.
Leroy Fennings obviously had been one of them.

His hand slipped into his designer jeans’
pocket and pulled out the PS device designed to pick up
preternatural signatures. The rectangular bronze device measured no
bigger than an I-phone, but thinner and lighter in weight. He held
the device over the blood splattered on the black and chrome
kitchen table. How did someone manage to slaughter Leroy in such a
manner? Being a full-blooded Angel, his body should have turned to
dust upon his death. Even the Nephilim returned to the earth in
such a manner.

A series of bars scrolled as it read what it
picked up. Then the screen cleared and Leroy’s face popped up. He
frowned and moved to another spot near the stove to repeat the
process all over again. A few seconds later, the results proved the
same. He maneuvered his way around the woman who was probably the
medical examiner since she looked to be taking tissue samples. She
was petite, almond skinned and with big dark brown eyes.
Attractive, he thought. He caught sight of the badge. Georgia
Humphrey, medical examiner. He’d been right.

He crouched down beside her to run the scan
over the lump of mutilated flesh. It was like Leroy had been put in
a microwave and someone cooked him from the inside out, exploding
him into the gore left behind. The screen flashed on the PS.
Leroy’s smiling face appeared on the screen. “Poor bastard.” No one
deserved this kind of death.

“Hey, you.” Zaiden didn’t bother turning
around. No one could see him while he used the glamour.

“Stop what you’re doing. Now.”

The woman’s tone of annoyance held a rough
edge, bordering on royally pissed off. He recognized the tone. It
was the same one Sarice used when speaking to her brother, Blaize,
right before she pummeled him. The two Darklins were like wildcats,
spitting and hissing at each other over one disagreement or
another, but there was no doubt the two cared about each other. If
it came down to a fight, they’d have each other’s backs.

Out of curiosity, he pivoted on his feet,
leveling his gaze at the female barking orders. The woman possessed
fine long hair, the strands more orangey red than gold. She wore
civilian clothing, but the badge around her neck and the Glock in
her hand told him otherwise. A female detective and a human, only
this human could see him. For a moment he wondered if his glamour
had slipped. His involvement with Sarice left him drained at times.
Sex with a Darklin couldn’t be compared, but the extra indulgence
of blooding proved draining—literally.

“What’s going on, Juliet?” Georgia stared at
her with concern. He waved his hand in front of Georgia’s face.
Nothing. Since the M.E. couldn’t see him, it was perfectly
reasonable to assume his glamour still held.

This woman, what did the M.E. call her? Ah
yes, Juliet. Zaiden stood slowly with his hands raised in mock
surrender. “She can’t see me… Juliet,” he drew out her name in slow
meaning.

Juliet’s eyes widened a fraction. “You’re
one of them.”

“Excuse me?” the medical examiner asked, not
realizing Juliet’s statement was meant for Zaiden.

“One of them?” Zaiden asked. “What do you
mean? Quick human before they haul your pretty little arse out of
here. How do you know about us?”

She understood her precarious situation and
lowered the weapon. “Sorry, Georgia,” she told the medical
examiner. “I’m a bit shaken over all this.”

Georgia’s features softened. “Honey, who
wouldn’t be. Take a few minutes. No one will blame you.”

Juliet nodded. “I think I will.” As soon as
Georgia returned to her work, Juliet’s eyes narrowed in on him
again.

His brows rose at the human’s brazen
regard.

She nodded her head toward the side door. He
followed her outside, if only to find out how she could see him
when no one else could.

Juliet strode to the side of the house,
making sure to keep her back to the police officers at the end of
the driveway. “Who are you?”

He didn’t see the harm in telling her.
“Zaiden LeGard.”

“Did you kill Leroy?” she blurted out, fear
radiating from her like a flashing beacon, but she still had the
guts to confront him. Impressive.

“No.” He didn’t feel the need to
elaborate.

She closed her eyes and let out a breath of
relief. She knew Leroy, knew what he’d been. Most Angels, heck,
even the Nephilim until recently didn’t befriend humans in this day
and age. No one wanted to revisit the wrath of God. Fire, plagues,
and floods weren’t to his liking either.

“Were you Leroy’s mate?” he asked carefully,
gauging her response. Leroy had lived among the humans, away from
the Otherworldly realm for half a century. Forming a relationship,
even a forbidden one, wouldn’t have completely surprised him. Even
the angelic became lonely at times.

“Mate? What? No.” She blurted out the
responses without taking a breath. Making sure she hadn’t spoken
loud enough to draw attention to herself, she looked over her
shoulder at the officers. No one seemed to notice them—or her that
is, since he remained cloaked. Her gaze found his once more. “Leroy
was… my friend. He was…like you.”

“Something like that.”

She was a human who knew of the Nephilim
world, the first he had run across, but then he didn’t converse
with humans on a regular basis. Maybe there were more. “If you have
anything to help me find who did this to Leroy, now would be the
time to tell me.”

She shook her head. “I have nothing. Leroy
liked everyone.”

“Someone didn’t care for him.” Zaiden
narrowed his eyes.

She pressed her lips together, moistening
them with her tongue. “Yeah. I would go with the Talaci demons
first. He befriended a few of the younglins, a gang of teens who
hung out at Pete’s place.” Her gaze wavered over him, sizing him up
as if wondering if she shouldn’t clap handcuffs on him just for the
hell of it. Not that those bracelets attached to her belt would
keep him down. They weren’t made of iron or pure silver. He would
have them off before she could say, ‘
Book him.’

His lips twitched in spite of his attempt
not to smile. The woman knew preternatural business. She was
probably a good cop, too.

“How do I know you aren’t lying and you’re
not the one who did this to Leroy?” she accused, but the accusation
didn’t hold up. Her voice lacked conviction, but she wanted him to
say it anyway.

He lifted his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “I
suppose you don’t, but you would be hard pressed to arrest me on
suspicion.” This time he did smile, showing a little fang. Pointed
incisors always put humans off guard, but not this female. His
teeth didn’t faze her in the least.

Her gaze swept over him, the annoyance still
evident in her eyes. “Answer me at least: Are we looking for
someone human?”

He leaned forward, whispering in her ear. “I
believe you already know the answer.” He was about to use his
glamour to shimmer out of there, but a familiar scent tickled his
senses.
Lucca.

His gaze riveted to hers, pinning her down
for the truth. “Has anyone been by other than the homicide
team?”

Her finely shaped brows furrowed over the
bridge of her nose. “A private detective was here when I arrived.
Lucca Marlowe.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe he’s who
you’re looking for.”

“No? Why’s that?”

“He’s human.”

Interesting. She could see him cloaked with
the glamour, but she didn’t sense Lucca as anything but human? Ah,
yes, Lucca’s wings were bound and so was his glamour. He’d been
permitted healing powers only to be used on himself, a trigger to
work when he’d been injured.

Lucca most likely didn’t kill Leroy. Right
now, Lucca didn’t have his preternatural strength to take on an
ancient full blood, but he’d still like to know Lucca’s involvement
with the case.

His gaze wavered over the female again,
looking for signs that she was more than human, but found nothing
out of the ordinary. She befriended Leroy, knowing his nature.
Preternatural beings didn’t scare her, which told him she lived her
life in the shadows, too.

Her claim that Lucca happened by didn’t play
out right to him. His scent layered hers. His brows furrowed. What
was Lucca up to? The Watcher detested humans, been banned from the
Otherworldly realm because of his hatred. So why was his scent
wrapped around this human female as if he intended to mark her?
He’d make a point to find out. “We’ll be in touch, I am sure.” He
tipped an imaginary hat as he shifted, his wings spreading wide
behind him. He wanted to shock her, put a chink in her armor, but
the chit proved the one to surprise him.

Her lips spread into a quick courtesy smile.
“Nice.” She nodded toward his wings in a nonchalant manner as if
his impressive wingspread was no big deal to her.

“Are you sure you’re not one of the
Nephilim?” he blurted.

Without another glance, she ducked under his
left wing and strode past him. “You know the answer to that.” He
heard the laughter in her voice and smiled, too. Her hips swayed
with casual grace as she went back inside the house, letting the
door close behind her without even a backward glance.

“Just who are you, Detective Romeo?” It
wasn’t often a female, preternatural or not, surprised him. This
one had intrigued him as well.

Chapter Eleven

Sitting at her desk back at the precinct,
Juliet reprimanded herself for not finding out how to contact
Zaiden LeGard. Dammit, that left it up to the Nephilim to contact
her.
Fat chance of that happening.
The Nephilim were worse
than the Fae when it came to revealing where they hung out, or
calling you back for that matter.

The tall, dark-haired, half angel looked
more like a warrior. His unnaturally ice-blue eyes reminded her of
Raziel’s, but
Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome
wasn’t an
Archangel. Raziel’s touch gave her the ability to know the
difference. The half angel seemed too interested in Lucca Marlowe,
too. Oh, he tried to play it off as a casual inquiry, but his eyes
flashed brighter for that split second before he asked the
questions. For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine why he wanted
information about Lucca.

She tapped her pencil on her desk, a nervous
habit that helped her think. She didn’t sense Lucca as anything
other than human, but he did have Nephilim friends. Maybe Zaiden
knew Lucca personally and hadn’t seen him in a while. Hmm… No, the
Nephilim weren’t the friendly type.

“Lucca Marlowe.” She said his name, liking
the way it flowed off the tip of her tongue. Her brows drew
together at the strange thought. Really, it was just a name, a name
belonging to an arrogant man. He left her with all the paperwork,
but what did she expect? Lucca didn’t work for the department. He
owned a private investigating firm where he was the boss and ran
his own hours. Lucky him.