Night Games (6 page)

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Authors: Crystal Jordan

BOOK: Night Games
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A chill went though her at that one simple word. She’d known it, but it was one thing to see a live bomb, and a whole different thing to be holding the bomb in her hands. It hit her once again.
Boom.
Here it was. This was it. The case that would end all cases. Also the case that had stolen the last person she had ever loved, the last person in her family who’d given a damn about her. Now they were all gone, whether they loved her or loathed her. Some lines had flourished over the centuries, but not the Graysons. Selina was the last, and there would be no more after her. If she could give her cousin’s afterlife a little peace before she went, she’d take it and be grateful for the chance to get some justice for all this bastard’s victims.
Including herself, it seemed.
She cleared her throat, casting about for something else to talk about. “Chloe is a very understanding woman for letting the FBI interrupt her wedding night.”
He grinned, his face relaxing for the first time since she’d arrived. “I’ll make it up to her later.”
“You do that. Now tell me what you know.”
4
J
ack was here.
Of course he was. He was on the MCU, why wouldn’t he be here? Somehow Selina hadn’t considered seeing him in a professional capacity. It ruined a little of the carefree sexual glamour of the night before. Then again, any reminder of this old case wasn’t likely to put her in the mood. She kept her face free of expression when he stepped in from the hallway and looked at her. From across a dead body.
“Agent Laramie.”
His blue eyes were even more brilliant in the light of day, the color pale as a laser beam and just as incisive as he stared at her. A little smile kicked up the corner of his mouth, and it kicked her heart rate up a notch. “Detective Grayson. Nice to see you again.”
Since other people were in the room with them, she merely nodded. Clearing her throat, she glanced at Merek. “You were saying?”
The big warlock had gone rigid, his eyes glazing the way they did when a strong vision hit him. He shuddered and blinked. “I was saying that the only real thing I could tell you was the perp was male and came in through one of the back windows, but even a human could have figured that part out.”
“Yeah, even a human could. It was pretty obvious to me anyway.” Jack rolled his eyes, and Selina suppressed a snort.
“Let’s keep the Normal cracks to a minimum.” Her gaze swept the room, and though she had zero jurisdiction here, most of the Magickals met her eyes and nodded. Age gave her authority where her badge didn’t.
“You just had a vision,” Jack pointed out, his gaze sharpening on the big warlock. “About this case?”
Merek nodded, sweat beading on his forehead, which he ignored. “You need to be involved.”
“It’s my case. So ... yeah.”
“No, somehow a ...” He shook his head. “A more positive outcome is possible if Selina and you are working on it together. And I know how weak that sounds for a vision, but that’s all I’ve got for you.”
“Positive, as in Jack solves the case?” Which was good, since she had no idea at what point in this process she was going to bite it. Hopefully, after she helped nail this son of a bitch. Rage ripped through her system, memories assaulting her of other people this man had killed, the crime scenes so eerily familiar it made her skin crawl. Victims who’d been beaten to within an inch of their lives, then drained of blood, clinching the deal. She’d seen a lot of ugly shit in her life, especially since she’d become a cop, but this case had always made her stomach curdle.
Her cousin’s blank, staring eyes would haunt her for the rest of her life. Was it any wonder her psyche had never let this one go?
The guy had never been caught, never committed another murder in that signature style in New Orleans for her years there. So, why here, why now? Why a thirty-year gap between murders? She damn well wanted to know, and the fact that she hadn’t caught him back then meant that this woman had died.
Not again.
If a positive outcome required Jack, then so be it. She didn’t like it much, but that was just too bad, wasn’t it? Fate didn’t really give a shit what she wanted. Never had, never would. Best to put on her big-girl panties and deal with it.
Merek sighed. “Positive, as in, I have no fucking clue. You know how this can be sometimes.”
Yeah, she did. Something few people knew about Merek’s powerful precognition was that it went on the fritz with people he was close to. A blessing, considering he didn’t have to watch his loved ones die in visions like he’d had with her, but a curse because it meant he couldn’t help them when they needed it the most. That had nearly gotten Chloe and Alex killed the year before, and Selina knew it ate at him. Even with her, his visions tended to be ... incomplete and staticky. Too many years as her partner made him a little too close to her to have full visions anymore. Something else that she was sure bothered him.
“All right, we’ll do our best.” She straightened her shoulders. “You get to your flight. Have one of the uniforms drive you and put the blue lights on.”
“Not necessary.”
“Yeah. Necessary.”
He wavered for a minute, uncertainty flashing across his face. “Maybe I shouldn’t—”
“
Go,
Kingston.” She jerked her thumb toward the door. “As someone who’s lived for a hell of a lot longer than you, let me assure you that there will always be another crisis around the bend. The rest of us can handle this. Go on your honeymoon. Start your marriage off on the right foot, without serial killers or werewolf terrorists.”
He winced and nodded. “Point taken.”
When he was gone, she was left with Jack. And all the agents and cops in the house, but few of whom she knew on more than a nodding acquaintance. She drew in a breath and let it ease out. “Well, this day went to shit really fast.”
Jack pitched his voice low. “And here I thought we’d be spared the awkward morning-after talk.”
Coughing into her fist, she covered a startled laugh.
“It’s sad you’re not wearing the bridesmaid dress.” His voice turned into a low rumble that made her insides clench. He’d used the same tone before he’d slid his cock inside her the night before. “It did amazing things for your ass.”
She had to work to suppress her grin, something she’d never have guessed she’d do any time soon after she’d seen that victim’s body. “Sorry, I’m so not doing the walk of shame in front of my colleagues. There were a lot of people who saw me in that dress yesterday, who might put two and two together on why I might still be wearing it this morning.”
“Good thing we showered the sex off of us, or the fangs would smell it.” He seesawed his hand through the air, his face sober, as if they were talking about something of vital importance to the case.
“Uh-huh. I guess that’d be the stink of shame?”
Now it was his turn to cough-laugh, his shoulders shaking with silent mirth.
She shrugged. “I’ve never been with another cop. Agent. Whatever.”
“No?” Surprise reflected on his face, as well as a flash of masculine pride. “I was your first, huh?”
Rolling her eyes, she resisted the urge to smack him. Barely. “I don’t mix business with pleasure. Sex is a completely separate thing from my job. Otherwise things get messy, and you compromise your ability to work and your credibility to your colleagues.”
Especially if you were a woman. She didn’t say that last part out loud, but even in Magickal branches of law enforcement, this was a boys’ club. She had to be better than the men to be considered equal.
She only hoped she was better than this killer. She had a lot more experience than she’d had back then, and technology had come a long way in the intervening years. Considering her life was on the line here, she’d take any advantage she could get.
They stepped out of the way while Tess had the body tagged, bagged, and loaded on a gurney for transport to her lab. The crime scene analysts would be doing their things for hours more. Now they had to wait for the forensics and magic detections to give them some clues. Until then, they had to track down Mary Winston’s next of kin and break the news.
Always Selina’s least favorite part of the job.
The puzzle, the mystery, the challenge, she loved. The part where she had to tell people that a huge hole had just been ripped into their hearts was right down there with wrestling a suspect into submission while hip-deep in fresh sewage. In fact, she might just pick the sewage rumble.
Then again, this wasn’t officially her case, so she had no idea what she was supposed to do now. Something else she didn’t care for. She cleared her throat and watched the CSUs work. “So.”
“So.” Jack tilted his head forward to look her in the eyes. “Kingston said you needed to be here. Cavalli arranged for us to have you for as long as we need you. So. Tell me what you know about all of this.”
For as long as they needed her, huh? Great, nothing like getting loaned out indefinitely. Then again, time wasn’t exactly on her side anymore, was it? She sighed. “It would be an understatement to say that this is highly reminiscent of a series of murders we dealt with about thirty years ago in New Orleans.”
He jotted that down in the little notebook he’d had that morning. When she’d been naked and humming with satisfaction. Just the beginning of a long string of rude awakenings this day had served up so far.
He glanced up, his dark brows furrowed in thought. “How many murders?”
“Four.” Her jaw worked in order to get that out. Four people died, and now another. Five people dead, and she still knew no more than she had three
decades
ago.
“And you had no leads?”
“Nothing solid.” Drawing in another breath just had his scent filling her nose. Not a good thing if she wanted to keep her mind on business. “The killings stopped as abruptly as they started, and with nothing new to go on, I was told to drop it by the upper brass.”
“No DNA was left at the scene?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “DNA evidence didn’t come into police investigations until the latter half of the 1980s. This was before that time.”
He blinked for a moment, and she realized that during his career, he had always had DNA evidence. This was before his time, too.
Damn, she felt old.
He shook himself. “Okay, walk me through what you remember, and I’ll request the original files from New Orleans be dug out, dusted off, and sent over.”
She could probably recite everything that was in the files, but she didn’t say that. The FBI agents needed to see the paperwork for themselves. She didn’t mention that the pictures were of scenes that visited her nightmares. Looking down on Bess’s murdered corpse had disturbed her more than other atrocities she’d witnessed in her long life. War, famine, plague. She’d seen it all, but these four murders? They’d haunted her.
Why she knew to her
bones
that this wasn’t a copycat, she couldn’t say. It was him. How and why he’d ended up in Seattle, she didn’t know. But she’d find out when she caught him, locked him up, and threw away the key.
Finally.
 
It was strange having Selina Grayson in his office. She took up a lot more space than she should have, considering how petite she was.
Or maybe it was just Jack’s intense awareness of her that wouldn’t let him focus on anything but
her.
It wasn’t like him to have his mind drift off of work. When he was here, he was all here. Hell, when he wasn’t here, his thoughts were often preoccupied by his cases.
Usually, he liked it that way. It kept him from reminiscing about things he’d rather forget. If he kept busy, kept moving, he could outrun his ghosts. It had worked for him for almost two decades, so he went with it.
A short knock sounded on the door, and Peyton stepped in silently. He nodded to both of them, stroked his tie against his chest, and took the seat next to Selina. The man had a knack for fading into the woodwork when it suited him, and he made use of that talent. He was the most unassuming werewolf Jack had ever met.
Jack scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and looked at Selina. “I know it was a long time ago, but is there anything you noticed that was different about this scene than the ones you handled in New Orleans? Anything you can remember would be helpful right now.”
Her dark gaze cooled until not a single expression showed. “I’m pretty clear on the details. Senility hasn’t gotten me yet.”
Peyton snorted, what passed as a smile for him fluttering the corners of his mouth, but he said nothing. Selina didn’t so much as crack a grin, her lips a flat line.
Jack might have attempted to tease her into a laugh if they’d been alone, but they weren’t, and what she’d said at the Winston residence told him she didn’t want anyone to know they’d slept together. He kept his voice even. “That’s good to hear. Were there any obvious differences between your cases in New Orleans and this one?”
“No.” She crossed her legs, and his gaze dropped to her slim thighs. Those legs had cinched around his waist last night while she lit him up with pleasure spells. His body reacted predictably to that little trip down memory lane, but he ignored it and forced himself to look at her face. Her gaze was clear and cold. “For each crime scene, there was an obvious entry point—window, back door, balcony. We were never sure how he got through people’s spell shields on their homes, but it’s possible his victims didn’t use them. After he entered the residence, he shot them twice. There was always a violent attack that included the use of black magic and—when the victims were Magickals—the application of sunlight or allergen metals, followed by draining the victim’s body in their own bed. There was never any sign of sexual assault. That seems consistent with what I saw today, though you’ll have to wait for Tess and your CSUs to get back to you for something more conclusive.”
“You know how long it takes to process a scene, but Dr. Jones should be done with the autopsy later today or tomorrow. Or Monday, since tomorrow’s Sunday. It depends on how large her backlog is.” He shrugged. Since she was a cop, he didn’t have to explain. “Were there any connections between the victims?”

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