Chapter 17
Lionel
By the time I’d taken care of Soul’s needs and found a spot in the Brunswick PD parking lot, homicide was bustling with activity.
Not a surprise with multiple bodies found in the same location, meaning there was a serial killer operating right under our noses.
The news about that had already broken, I’d heard it on the radio on my way over, and the speculation would spark fear and demands for the killer to be found soon.
All that pressure would come down on Christine.
“Hawkes,” she said, beckoning me from a desk that wasn’t hers.
She had an office all to herself, but right now, everyone was concerned with bringing together everything they knew and getting everyone up to speed, so she was in the middle of it all, directing the team like a captain with her crew.
I walked past the other desks and detectives who ignored me while they worked. Some had been at the scene, others had been stationed here. A few of the desks had abandoned coffee mugs on them. Homicide did not come with the kindest work hours.
“What do you need?” I asked when I got to the desk Christine had commandeered.
Now, with her windbreaker off, I noticed she was wearing the same navy blouse as last night at the morgue. It was wrinkled, so she had either slept in it or hadn’t slept at all. I looked around for Mitch, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“Nothing right now,” she said. “There are several Joanne Frazers in the city, none of whom have been reported missing, meaning I don’t yet know who our victim is, and I don’t have their home or possessions for you to get a read on.”
That should have been good news. “Okay.”
“That means you can take a break right now, but leave your phone on.”
I nodded. “Right.”
“If I figure out who she is, I’d rather notify next of kin in the morning. Give them one more night, you know?”
Typical Christine right there. I nodded. I should have been glad to be going home, but I had sort of hoped that maybe Mitch wanted to pick my brains later today.
“Are you sure I can’t do anything?” I asked her.
She looked me up and down. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? You don’t volunteer for the paperwork and running down leads from a desk kind of work normally, and the crime scene report isn’t ready yet for you to double-check and countersign.”
I shrugged. “I wasn’t volunteering. I just thought with that talisman and one victim being a magic user, my expertise might be of help?”
She nodded. “Mitch sent me the update, and we’re looking into that, but since you don’t have any ties to the community, I got Dr. Lily to ask around.
” Christine shrugged. Having no ties to the community was a nice way of saying I had no friends.
Christine could be diplomatic like that.
“Get some rest and walk that pet of yours, I guess. I’ll call you if we need you. ”
Dr. Lily undoubtedly had the social skills I didn’t. She talked to people other than her patients and seemed to enjoy it, so her helping out was a good thing. Doubly so because it meant she wasn’t going to call me into her office for a surprise shrink session now.
“All right,” I said.
I really had no excuse to linger now, even if I would have waited around just for a chance to see how Mitch liked his coffee. I walked out of the station slowly, the linoleum floor making squeaky noises as I went, hoping I’d run into the sexy detective in the elevator, but no such luck.
Back in the car, Soul greeted me with a growl.
“Yeah, you think you’re the only one with issues?” All that got me was more of the same. I sighed. “You’re going back to the Devil now, so save the attitude for him, because he actually deserves it.”
I wasn’t sure whether the poodle understood me, but at least she shut up as I pulled out of the parking spot and left the lot behind to get her to Lucifer’s too-showy mansion at the fucking opposite end of the city from my own place.
She watched me with her beady eyes though, and even if she couldn’t pass her curse to me, she was damn creepy to have in the car next to me.
I walked up the path to Lucifer’s front door with the poodle in my arms, and once I stood in front of the large oak door that should have been at odds with the fancy glass and chrome facade but somehow worked, I rapped my knuckles against it three times.
I expected Lucifer to open his door, but instead, I was faced with a tall blonde woman with a runner’s body and curly hair reaching well past her shoulders. She wore baby blue slacks with a white blouse tucked into them.
“There you are,” she said, giving me a critical once-over and wrinkling her nose. “Tiamat is dying to meet you.”
“Huh?”
I found myself dragged across the threshold by the woman, whose grip was far stronger than it should have been. I gave her a look with my mage sight, and sure enough, she was an immortal. She stopped three steps into the building and pried the poodle from my arms.
“This one does not make you look any better.” She put Soul on the floor before she looked me up and down again. “But then again, I can’t see what would. I’m Metatron, by the way, but you’ll call me Trony, got it?”
“Erm—”
“Now, your shoes. Off with them.”
“Excuse me?”
She gestured. “Your shoes. Take them off, or I will do it for you.”
“I didn’t come here to stay, I just wanted to drop off Soul.”
She—Metatron, Trony, whatever—didn’t look impressed and bent down. Getting a firm grip on my left ankle, she made me hold on to the wall for balance while she yanked my Converse off so fast that I thought there might be magic involved there.
“Yuck. These will need cleaning. And your socks aren’t matching,” she told me as I was standing there, one hand still on the wall, shoeless.
I followed her gaze, and sure enough, the left sock had white polka dots on it—my attempt at adding some color to my wardrobe. The left one was all black, but sort of washed out, the color having faded to a grayish, muddy hue.
“Well, I was in a hurry, and in my defense, I wanted to sleep in when—”
Before I could finish complaining about how the Devil had ruined my morning, Lucifer rounded a corner.
He wore his usual jeans and T-shirt combo, looking beautiful as always.
He was also not wearing any shoes, and his hair, rather than being a carefully sculpted mess, was neatly combed for once, flowing around his ears like pure black silk.
“There you are, Nelly.” His voice was the husky promise of a midwinter bonfire, and damn it, I didn’t want my body to react to it, but it did.
Dry-mouthed and with my cock aware of Lucifer approaching, I only had half a brain left to catalog what was going on around me. I was in Lucifer’s house. I’d never been here. I’d been at his door, yes, but I’d never gone in, not even when he’d invited me inside.
Soul was scuttling away, presumably to wherever she had spent the last few months. Her claws clicked on the fine marble, which had under-floor heating. I could feel the warmth against my mismatched-socked feet.
“I was just dropping off Soul.”
Lucifer approached, his closeness making shivers run over my skin before I had a chance to control my reaction.
It was unfair that him just being around me did this.
If he hadn’t been an immortal, yeah, I would have risked jumping his bones, but he was what he was.
Too fucking hot for me to think straight and keep myself from getting aroused, apparently.
“Nelly.” His perfect brows crumpled into a frown. “Did you hurt yourself again? Is your head okay?”
Yeah, he was hella hot, but he was also still not over that amnesia and/or dementia obsession of his.
“Why the fuck do you keep thinking I hit my head, huh? What did I ever do to make you doubt that I am in possession of all my faculties?”
Lucifer raised a finger and started counting. “You referred to de-animating a zombie as killing it, you had trouble remembering things such as my name and your address, and right now, you’re wearing two different socks.”
“It’s a fucking fashion choice!” My voice was louder and higher than I had intended. Well, Lucifer was fucking annoying.
He frowned and pointedly looked at my feet, making me curl my toes.
“Hardly. Trony?”
The blonde groaned. “Yes, I will buy him new socks. The type that have labels for the days of the week on them.”
“I don’t have fucking dementia!”
“Shh,” Lucifer cooed, putting a warm hand on my shoulder. “It’s fine. The labels are going to help Trony too when she does laundry and has to pair them after. Isn’t that right, Trony?”
Metatron crossed her arms, then pointedly rolled her eyes before saying, “Yes. I need labels to do laundry because my magic is that weak. I cannot imagine how I’ve managed so far.”
Lucifer beamed. “There, see?”
I didn’t. Whatever I had walked into here was too fucking weird, and I needed to leave.
“I gotta…” I pointed at the door and took a step toward it.
Lucifer cocked his head. “What, Nelly?”
I turned red in the face. “Go! I’ve got to fucking go, and don’t you dare insinuate that I forgot the word!”
“I didn’t say that. You can’t though. Tiamat is dying to meet you.”
I pointed again, but my arm was trembling slightly. “I have work.”
I looked around for my shoes, but they were gone. Fucking immortals and their magic.
“But, Nelly, you only just got here.” Lucifer’s voice had dropped at least half an octave, to something dark and warm that I wanted to wrap around me.
But no, I shouldn’t think that way. I was a necromancer and not daring enough to get into bed with the Devil. I’d just accidentally walked into his house, was all.