“Whatever you want.” He turned his hand over and squeezed her fingers briefly.
Tess cleared her throat, set down her half of the sandwich, and licked her lips, refocusing on the other people in the room. “Okay, back to the autopsies. For the most part, there was nothing in any of the exams that I wouldn’t expect, considering the nature of the crime. The victims were healthy, no drugs in their systems. I didn’t see the Normal victim when she was ... fresh, so I know less about her. Neither Ms. Winston nor Mr. Mathison had ingested anything for at least a few hours before their deaths. There were no signs of recent sexual activity, which means they weren’t raped.”
“That’s the big news?” Selina couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice. So far, none of the victims—male or female—had been sexually assaulted.
“No, all of that was what I’d expect. The weird thing was that there was no saliva in the wounds on their necks. I thought I’d find some. I hoped that it would give us some DNA to compare to if we ever got a suspect, but there was no saliva in, on, or around the wounds.”
“He cleaned up after himself.” Peyton arched his eyebrows.
She shook her head. “That would explain why there wasn’t saliva on or around the bite wounds, but there should have been some in the wounds. However, I did find traces of some kind of metal in the wounds. I’m looking into what kind of metal now, but I thought you’d like to know what I’d discovered so far.”
Jack frowned, splaying his hands on the table. “So, it’s possible he’s using something to cover his fangs. A mouth guard of some kind?”
“It’s possible.” She seesawed her hand through the air. “I’m not sure how else a vampire would keep saliva out of the wound. There’s a certain amount of transfer when they bite someone.” She sighed. “This means not only no DNA, but there’s no way to match the bite marks without the mouthpiece he’s using. Just a dental imprint won’t help me. He might be altering where his fangs would strike the flesh, the curve of the fangs. Damn it.”
Jack looked as if he wanted to beat his head against the table. “Which means we may not even be looking for a vampire. Just someone who wants us to think he’s a vampire.”
“It might explain why our guy can cast spells well enough to get through security shields. Vampires suck at casting.” Selina drummed her fingers against the table, thinking about what this new twist might mean for nailing any possible suspects. Like Gregor. Every new piece of information just seemed to leave them deeper in the dark. Fuck. Impotent rage roiled inside of her, a dark, icy thing that was beyond her control.
“I don’t know about that.” Delta appeared in the doorway, her gaze thoughtful. “Let me look into it, but draining victims completely has very specific symbolic meaning to vampires. And none of your victims are vampires, which could mean he’s protecting his own. The Conclave deals very harshly with those who turn on their own kind. All of this indicates to me that your guy is deeply steeped in vampire culture, ethics, prejudices, and taboos.” She shrugged. “Let me put together my profile, and I’ll be able to give you more.”
“Thanks, Delta. And thank you, Tess.” Selina blew out a frustrated breath. Two steps forward, three steps back. They were just chasing their tails.
9
Jack had been staring at the computer for hours, and his eyes burned. The words were starting to blur, he’d been looking at them so long. The pieces were there, he just needed to put them together. Every answer they found seemed to lead to more questions rather than to a conclusion with a solid profile and a list of possible suspects.
The number of victim photographs now stretched off his whiteboard and were taped on the walls in his office. He swiveled his chair to look at them again. Nothing about them appeared the same. They had everything from a preteen witch with a human stepmother to a Normal retiree who’d been married to a Fae for sixty years. They lived in different cities and countries, had none of the same acquaintances, habits, or characteristics. The retiree had been murdered before the witch was even born. They’d never met, their families didn’t know each other, and comparing the other victims made for similar lacks of similarity. Jack wouldn’t be surprised if their killer had chosen them for that very reason. The only thing they had in common was the interrelation between Magickals and Normals. They could also solidly place Gregor Night in different places during the time period where the killer needed to have been operating for at least two of the cities. It didn’t totally rule him out, but it put a kink in the theory that the redheaded vampire was their murderer. Jack clenched his fists and resisted the urge to put his fist through the wall. It felt like they were getting nowhere.
“Fuck.”
“Well, hello to you, too.” Selina stepped into his office and sank into her usual chair. Her shoulders bowed, and she looked as spent as he felt.
He wanted to reach for her, but knew she wouldn’t allow it. Her separation between work and her personal life meant even a casual touch was taken the wrong way. Hell, he could clap Peyton on the shoulder with less of a problem. Jack’s fists clenched, but he forced himself to shake them loose. It was the exhaustion weighing him down. Friends with benefits, remember? He was getting exactly what he wanted, so he should be more than satisfied with that. He shrugged the tension out of his shoulders.
“Come on.” Selina grabbed her bag and slung it across her torso, sliding to her feet again. “You’re done for the night. I can see it on your face.”
“I think—”
She sighed. “Look, I’m as much a workaholic as the rest of them, so when I say you’re done, I’m not trying to baby you. We need to be at full capacity for this case. Falling on your face in exhaustion won’t help anyone. Go home.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her to come with him, but he resisted. His door was standing open for anyone to overhear them. Their affair was a secret, and suddenly that chafed a lot more than it should. He knew all of her reasons, he even agreed with most of them, but right now, he didn’t give a damn about any of that. He was tired of worrying about whether people would infer that his actions toward her meant anything. He was tired of worrying if she would assume people were assuming. The reaction was irrational, so he tamped down on it. Shooting from his chair, he snatched up his jacket and swept out the door. “Lock up behind you.”
She followed him, and he heard his door whoosh closed and lock, courtesy of her magic, no doubt. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, just have a lot on my mind. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but then she closed it. Yeah, that gag order of hers put the kibosh on a lot of things, didn’t it? Instead of saying anything, he turned for the elevator.
When he was in his car and driving toward home, he realized he didn’t want to crawl into bed alone. A handful of nights with Selina were enough to addict him to having the feel of her wrapped around him while they slept. “Crap.”
He sighed and made a left turn toward one of his favorite restaurants. Not one his cousins owned. This one was a hole in the wall, mom and pop joint with good service and great food. It was also open late, which meant he didn’t have to worry about when he dragged himself away from work. They’d be open.
The familiar neon sign that blazed the name TRUDY’S looked fuzzy in the Seattle fog, and he had to search to find a parking space out front. This place was always packed. It didn’t matter what time of day he showed up. The locals loved this diner.