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Authors: Keri Arthur

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BOOK: The Darkest Kiss
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“Show-off.” The old elevator came to a jumpy halt, and I grabbed the railing to steady myself. “Your Directorate salary is not going to stretch to feeding that many mouths.”

“Doesn’t have to. Herds work as a complete support system. Everyone contributes to support each other.”

“What happens if you die?”

He shrugged. “My personal insurance will take care of them. And the Directorate insurance policy is quite generous.”

That I wouldn’t know, having avoided the whole “death while on duty” line of thinking. Which I guess was stupid, given the fact that a guardian’s lifestyle wasn’t exactly compatible with a long life—unless you were a vamp and all but indestructible. But there again, if something happened to me, I don’t think Rhoan would be worried about money. Nor me, if the situation was reversed.

The elevator doors finally swished open and Kade ushered me out. The foyer was empty, but I could hear voices coming from the right, and one of them was familiar. I headed that way.

Cole looked around as we entered the office. He was a tall, gray-haired wolf-shifter with a craggy face and a sharp attitude—at least when it came to dealing with me. Though I have to admit, I probably deserved it. I enjoyed teasing him a whole lot more than was warranted. Of course, it didn’t help that he kept saying he wasn’t interested when I knew for a fact he was. Even though wolf-shifters tended to think of themselves as better than us werewolves, not even they could hide the smell of arousal.

“Oh, great,” he said, his voice heavy but amusement sparking in his pale blue eyes. “Beauty and the beast have arrived.”

“I’d ask which one of us is classed as the beast, but I’m afraid I might not like the answer.” I stopped just inside the doorway and scanned the room. There was a huge desk, several sofas, and a gleaming coffee machine that appeared to have more than a dozen different selections. Gerard James was a man not satisfied with mundane choices, it seemed. “Where’s the body?”

Cole thumbed toward another doorway. “In the main office. His personal assistant found him slumped across the desk at two forty-five this afternoon.”

“That’s a rather late start, isn’t it?”

He shrugged. “Apparently it was a one-off starting time.”

One-off because he knew he was bringing someone back to the office, perhaps? Maybe someone he didn’t want to be seen meeting? Though if that were the case, the office would be the last place you’d think he’d bring someone. The press would most certainly be keeping an eye on his comings and goings, regardless of the time.

“Has he been dead long?”

“It’s a little hard to tell. Rigor mortis can set in faster on those who have been active before death.”

“And was he? Active, I mean?”

“Very,” he said, voice dry. “As a rough estimate, I’d say the time of death was around six this morning.”

“Where’s the PA now?”

“Down on the third floor, in the cafeteria. There’s a lady cop with her. I figured it’s the least the lazy bastards could do after fobbing this off on us.”

“Meaning that you don’t think there’s anything suspicious?” Kade asked.

“At first glance, no.” Cole shrugged. “But in this job, you never can be sure until a full examination has been made. And I’ve been wrong before.”

“No,” I said, putting on my best shocked face. “Tell me it isn’t so.”

The grin that tugged at his lips transformed his face, pulling it out of the ordinary and into the “oh my” class. “Why don’t you get your skinny ass into that office and do some work for a change?”

“Skinny ass?” I raised my eyebrows and looked at Kade. “Do you think my ass is skinny?”

“Darlin’, I think it’s lush enough to kiss. But you won’t let me.”

“No, Jack won’t let you. He’s the spoilsport, not me.” I looked back at Cole in time to catch him rolling his eyes, and grinned. “So what are you doing out here if the body is in there?”

“Collecting body fluids. Seems our boy had something of a sexual marathon last night.”

Bang went my theories about illegal meetings. Literally.

“Can I pick it or what?” Kade said, voice smug. “Is his sexual partner around? We might need to talk to her. Or him, as the case may be.”

“Her, I would think. There’s a hint of perfume in the main office that’s definitely feminine, and it’s not the secretary’s scent. There’s no sign of the wearer, though. I’ve asked for the security tapes to be delivered to us.” He bent down and began swabbing the desk. “Whoever she was, she obviously had access to the security codes. The whole place was locked when the secretary came in.”

“Maybe she used his keys.” Though why would she run if he just had a heart attack? It wasn’t against the law to have sex in the office, though it was perhaps politically insane.

Of course, it could be that his partner in crime was somebody else’s wife. That would certainly explain the disappearing act.

Cole glanced at me. “The keys are still on the desk.”

“Oh.”

“Yep, this is a weird one.” He paused, then added with that cheeky glint in his eyes, “Which I guess is why Jack sent you two.”

“Keep the insults up, and you know I’m going to mess up your crime scene.”

“You probably will anyway.” His amusement faded as he nodded toward the main office. “Don’t brush against the door. We’ve yet to get prints off it.”

“They had sex against the door?”

“Apparently so.”

I glanced at Kade. “Are you sure this guy wasn’t a were rather than a shifter?”

He grinned and pressed his fingers against my back, pushing me forward. “Nope. He’s just your run-of-the-mill, oversexed politician.”

“Why can’t any of them keep it in their pants?”

“It’s the whole power and availability thing.”

“Which doesn’t go with the whole ‘in the public eye and trying to win votes’ thing.”

I walked through the second doorway, stepping over a large coffee stain and abandoned cup sitting just inside the door before stopping. The two men in Cole’s team—a bird-shifter and a cat-shifter whose names I didn’t know, and who didn’t seem in the least interested in introducing themselves—were both present; one examining the office chair, the other carefully taking pictures.

Gerard James himself was buck-naked and sprawled, arms spread wide, across the desk, his shiny-white butt facing the window for all the world to see. Or at least, for those in the offices opposite. I was betting the embarrassing pictures would be front-page news tomorrow morning.

The scents of sex and lust lingered on the air, and underneath it was a hint of jasmine and orange. A feminine scent, as Cole had suggested. But there was something else, something that made my nose twitch and my psychic senses tingle.

Not death, but something very like it.

I frowned and looked at the body, waiting for the energy of the dead to stir past my senses. Waiting for his soul to come out and speak.

It didn’t.

In fact, there was an odd feeling of emptiness to the whole room, as if someone had come in here and sucked out all the warmth. Removed any lingering remnants of life.

I shivered and rubbed my arms. Clairvoyance could be a pain in the ass, sometimes—especially when it wasn’t giving me anything more than spooky little “something is wrong” feelings.

Kade stopped behind me, the heat of his body pressing into my spine. “There is an odd feel to this room.”

I looked up at him. Kade was sensitive to emotions rather than souls or death, so if he was feeling something in this room, it had be very strong. And it would also be something very different from whatever I was sensing. He was also telekinetic, which had proven to be extremely handy when he was fighting vampires that were naturally faster than him. “In what way?”

He frowned, his gaze sweeping the room before coming back to rest on the body. “There is a strong sense of ecstasy and lust in here.”

“Well, there would be, if they did it against the tables, the walls, the doors, and whatever else bit of furniture they could get a grip on.”

His velvet gaze was half-hooded and his lush mouth pursed. Not really listening, not really hearing, just concentrating on whatever it was he was feeling. “This is more than that. It’s like he was on a high, and couldn’t come down.”

My gaze went to Gerard. “Drugs?” It certainly wouldn’t be the first time a politician had been caught using an illegal substance. And it might just explain the stupid risk he’d taken, coming into his office and leaving the blinds wide open.

“I wouldn’t sense a drug high, but I’m sensing this.” He frowned. “There is something entwined in the high, something I’ve never felt before.”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitated a moment, then his gaze came back to mine. “Something very old, very powerful, and extremely deadly has been in this room.”

Chapter 2

I
raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Well, it’s obviously not a dead something, because otherwise I’d be feeling it.”

My clairvoyance was tuned to souls and dead things—which was probably why I’d been sensitive to the presence of vampires, even when my clairvoyance hadn’t yet been forced out of the closet by the ARC1-23 drug.

I stepped closer to Gerard’s body and caught a stronger whiff of the woman’s perfume. The jasmine and orange scents were sharper, but mixed in amongst them were notes of lilac and roses. I frowned. “I know that perfume.”

“I didn’t think you wore perfume.” Kade’s reply was almost automatic. He stepped around me, his nostrils flaring as he pulled some rubber gloves from the box sitting on the edge of the desk.

“I don’t, but I walked past the Chanel store the other day, and some lady was testing something that smelled just like this.”

Of course, I hadn’t hung around to find out just what it was. That much perfume coming out of such a confined space had just about blown my olfactory senses. And the next time I walked past that shop, I’d be doing so from the safety of the other side of the street. I grabbed some gloves and snapped them on. Kade was bending over the body, studying Gerard’s neck.

“What have you seen?”

“Scratch marks.”

I moved around the desk to look. Gerard’s shiny butt loomed large. Fitness and careful eating had obviously
not
figured on his agenda. Still, some of the most powerful men in history had also been some of the most un-appealing when it came to physical attributes. In life, it was the power of these men that attracted. In death, that power was never obvious.

“What sort of scratch marks?”

“Cat, I think.” He pointed to the three slashes etched deep into Gerard’s neck. “The wound smells fresh.”

The scent of blood, though faint, was evident this close to the body. I leaned closer still, and lightly pressed one of the wounds. They opened a little at my touch, showing how deeply the claws had sliced into flesh. “The wounds haven’t healed, so he didn’t shift shape at any time before his death.” I glanced up at Kade. “You think it possible his partner was a cat-shifter?”

“Well, I doubt he has a pet cat. Bird-shifters and feline pets have something of an aversion to each other.”

I glanced at the wound again. “Those cuts are definitely from cat claws, not human ones, so why would she even be in cat form if they came here to fuck themselves silly?”

Amusement glinted in Kade’s eyes as his gaze met mine. “Maybe he just wanted to play with a bit of pussy before he got down to business.”

“As puns go,” I said heavily, “that sucks. It would be interesting to view the security tapes, and see if there’s any record of her entering or exiting in either form.”

“Why?”

“Just a feeling. She didn’t report his death, wasn’t here when the PA found her, and the place was apparently locked up tight. All of which smacks of secrecy. So, why would she let herself be seen coming into the building?”

“Assuming, of course, we
are
dealing with a female.”

That perfume definitely seemed female-oriented, but given I didn’t even use the stuff, I could hardly claim to be an expert. “Were there any rumors about Gerard being gay?”

Kade shook his head. “But politicians are great at covering that sort of shit up. And the positioning of the body is suggestive.”

My gaze skated down his spine to his butt. “Not if she was underneath him at the time of the death, and merely moved him enough to get out.”

He stripped off his gloves and dumped them into the disposal unit. “I don’t think we’re going to uncover much here. You want to head over to his apartment and see if there’s anything—or anyone—there?”

“You do it. I’ll go talk to the PA.”

He nodded and walked out of the room. I took a final look at Gerard, waiting a little longer to see if his soul would come out to play, then shrugged and headed into the outer room.

Cole looked up. “Leaving so soon?”

I smiled. “I’ll stay if you really want me to.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

“You lie, wolf man.”

He didn’t deny it, which was a nice change, but his blue eyes were still cool. He was a man not easily swayed by hormonal attraction—not that I really wanted to get anywhere, particularly not at the moment—but half the fun was in the trying. I’m not sure what I’d actually do if he ever said yes. Besides the shock such an event would cause, there was Jack’s ruling to consider.

I flung a hand in the direction of the main office. “You noticed the scratches on his neck?”

“I did.”

“Want to send me the full analysis and autopsy report when it’s done?”

“I will.”

“Thanks. I’m off to chat to the PA—what’s her name, by the way?”

“Rosy Ennes. You can let her go once you’ve spoken to her.”

“Thanks, I will.”

I headed down, taking the stairs rather than the elevators, not wanting to risk another of those stomach-churning stops.

The smell of coffee hit as soon as I pushed open the door and I breathed deep. It wasn’t a particularly fresh smell and it had a slightly burned edge, but any coffee was drinkable when you were as addicted to the stuff as I was.

I looked around for the two women, spotting the blue of a police uniform in the far corner, then headed over to the counter, grabbing two white coffees and a couple pieces of chocolate cake. Once they were paid for, I picked up some sugar and walked across the room.

“Can I help you?” the cop said, green eyes as cool as her voice.

“Riley Jenson, Directorate.” I dumped the coffees and cakes on the table, then dug my badge out of my pocket and showed her.

She didn’t look impressed. No surprise there. Though the police in general were thankful for our presence—particularly given it freed them from dealing with the worst of nonhuman excesses—there were still pockets who considered us little more than licensed killers. Which, in many ways, was nothing but the truth. It looked like this woman might be one of those.

Either that, or she just wasn’t taken in by my charming personality and easy-to-get-along-with ways.

“I wasn’t aware the Directorate now had day-shift guardians,” she said, inspecting the badge more carefully than necessary.

Like anyone in their right mind would want to fake a guardian badge.

“New squad, announced several months ago.” I shoved the badge back into my pocket and resisted the urge to suggest that maybe she should start reading internal memorandums a little more often. “I’ll take over here for the moment. Thanks.”

She sniffed, then rose and moved away. I sat down in her seat, my nostrils flaring as I sampled Rosy’s scent. She smelled of lavender and eucalyptus, and also very human. I shoved a coffee and a piece of cake toward her. “Here. You look as if you need this.”

She ignored the cake and wrapped her hands around the Styrofoam cup, her smile as wan as her lined features. I’d presumed—wrongly—that someone like Gerard James would have a young and attractive personal assistant. Someone that was easy on the eyes as well as efficient at her job. From the little Kade had said, he’d just seemed that type.

But Rosy had to be in her late fifties—and with no makeup and her gray hair cut into an old-fashioned bob, she looked a good deal older. Maybe it did his political image good to have an older assistant or maybe she was simply damn good at her job.

“I’m afraid I have to ask you about this afternoon, and finding Gerard James.” I lifted the lid off my coffee container and tossed it lightly into a nearby trash can. “You can take your time. There’s no rush.”

She nodded, but for several seconds she didn’t say anything. She just sat there with her hands wrapped around the coffee cup and her eyes cast downward.

“Rosy?” I said gently.

She jumped a little. “Oh, yes.” Her voice was quivery, but she continued. “It was a little after two-thirty when I arrived at the office.”

“Do you always start so late?”

“No, but last night he was at a fund-raiser, so he gave me the morning off. We were going to work late to make up for it.”

“So the office was all locked up when you came in?”

“Yes.” She took a sip of coffee, then added, “I have a set of keys, because I’m usually here before him. He likes—liked—a cup of coffee to be ready as soon as he arrived.”

“What time was he due in, then?”

“Not until three, but he’s usually fifteen minutes early.” She hesitated, her pale blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I went into his office to put his coffee on the desk as usual. And that’s when I saw—”

She stopped and took a large gulp of air. Her hands were trembling so hard the coffee was threatening to spill over the sides of her cup and scald her fingers. I reached out, gently plucking the Styrofoam cup and placing it back on the table. But I couldn’t help wondering if the depth of her reaction was due just to shock, or if it was something deeper. Something that wasn’t actually sexual, because from everything I’d heard about Gerard James, I very much doubted if Rosy would be his type. But that didn’t mean Rosy couldn’t have had a thing for him. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time a PA had fallen for her boss. And, after all, there was probably little more than ten years or so between them. Not much, in the scheme of things.

“Was there anything unusual, or out of place, that you noticed?”

She shook her head. “Just him, on that desk.” Her lip quivered, and a lone tear tracked down her pale check. “It was such a shock, seeing him like that, you know?”

“I know.” I hesitated. “Did you notice his clothes anywhere?”

I certainly hadn’t, but maybe Cole’s crew had already bagged them.

“No,” she said, “but they’re probably hanging in the bathroom. He was always neat like that.”

Even when in a mating rut? I found that hard to believe, but then again, he was a politician. They were a breed far different from the rest of us. “What function did he attend last night?”

“It was at the Crystal Palace in St. Kilda. Some charity fund-raiser he was asked to speak at.”

“Do you know who his date was?”

Her snort was disparaging. For the first time, I saw something more than sorrow in her face. “Alana Burns. She was one of the Toorak Trollops.”

Amusement twitched my lips. No need to ask Rosy what she thought of the “Trollops,” because it was right there in the tartness of her voice. “Who are?”

She waved a hand, coming perilously close to knocking over her coffee. I reached forward and slid it out of the way again. “They’re a dozen or so single or divorced Toorak ladies who make themselves available to attend all the best functions. With only the best-bred men, of course.”

“So they’re high-priced hookers?”

She frowned. “No. Money doesn’t change hands, as far as I know. Can you imagine the scandal that would have caused Mr. James? No, they’re just well-bred, well-connected sluts, pure and simple.”

I smiled, but I had to wonder if she’d voiced such sentiments to her boss. Somehow, I suspected not. “And did he go out with Alana often?”

“Quite a few times, although I think he was getting a little tired of her.”

I took a sip of coffee, then asked, “Why?”

She hesitated. “He generally preferred to keep things casual.”

And if Alana had started making demands and had gotten the wrong reaction, it might just explain his murder. Dumped women didn’t always resort to chocolate. Some of them got angry—and others got even. “How did he usually dump his lovers?”

“With flowers the next day. I usually order them, which is how I knew he was getting tired of Alana. He asked me to check the prices on the roses.”

Well, at least he didn’t dump her with daffodils. “But they went out last night?”

“Yes. I rang her that afternoon to confirm the date, as I usually do. She was in a complete snit.” Rosy sniffed. “Most of those women think they’re too good to be dealing with the common folk.”

And maybe the Trollops weren’t the only ones with a chip on their shoulders. “Was Alana the first Trollop your boss dated?”

“No.” She wrapped her hands around the coffee again and slid it toward her. “I kept telling him they’d get him into trouble one day, but he liked the contacts they could give him.”

“Who else did he date, then?”

“There were several of them. He was with one for about a year, but she got very clingy and he called it off.”

Meaning she probably wanted a commitment. Poor woman. I wondered whether she’d received the roses, or if she’d simply been shown the door. “What was her name?”

She frowned. “Cherry something. It’ll be in the files—although I believe she’s changed address, so those details won’t be right. It’s filed under T.”

This time, my grin broke free. Rosy definitely had more fire in her than first appeared. “Are Alana’s details there, too? I need to speak to her.”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything that might be useful?”

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