Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Much to Anatoly’s dismay, Maggie was all business by the time they arrived at the crime scene. As they pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex, she slipped her hand away from his and he lamented the loss of her warm touch.
The news there had been another killing had not dampened his feelings for her. Though he too was somber and not in the mood for conversation, he was very much glad to be in her presence, even if they must now act professionally.
He would much rather have been back in her little kitchen, watching her hastily eat the sandwich he’d prepared for her. Anatoly had known the second she returned from her shower dressed in her usual slacks and a blouse that something was wrong.
Now a young woman had died and he feared he had only himself to blame. He worried that his affection for Maggie might have slowed her down, but the moment he thought it into existence, he swatted it away like a persistent fly.
More than ever, they were becoming partners and despite the circumstances, they were working as hard as they could. This death rested squarely on the shoulders of the one who had done the deed and there was no good that could come from Anatoly bearing that shame in their stead.
“Good, you’re here, Detective,” a woman in a police uniform called as the pair entered the apartment where the body had been found.
“I’m pretty sure this is one of yours, though there are some inconsistencies…
” The officer cut straight to the chase.
“Do you want to see the body before the coroner starts packing it up?”
Maggie nodded, her ponytail bobbing, and then she was on the move, following the officer further inside to the bedroom. “What do we know so far?”
“The victim is Jean Thomas, age forty-one, lives alone…” The younger woman wasted no time rattling off the details from her notepad. “Preliminary findings are exsanguination as the cause of death. Someone drained Miss Thomas of all her blood, just like the others.”
A sick feeling curled in Anatoly’s stomach, souring him to his own nature not for the first time since he had become a vampire. He risked a glance at Maggie, hoping to figure out what she was thinking, but her expression remained stony.
For her to have just found out about vampires and then be forced to stare their darkness in the face had to be difficult.
Anatoly wanted to comfort her in some way, but he dared not.
She was far too closed off to him, back to the way she was when they had first met.
Would she make the same promise to this victim?
Anatoly watched Maggie work, admiring how methodical she was and that she always seemed to ask the right questions.
It was the same admiration he had felt in the beginning, that first fateful night that now seemed so very long ago.
Only this time, he knew her, knew the taste of her lips and the sensation of completeness that came from holding her in his arms. Those small, intimate moments were held in his heart like treasures as his eyes beheld the horror of this poor woman’s final moments.
“You mentioned inconsistencies?” Maggie was asking the officer, watching over the victim’s remains as she was carefully placed by the medical team into a body bag.
“That’s right,” came the answer. “Your gal isn’t a preacher. She’s a counselor at the Starry Meadows Rehab Facility. Weird, huh?”
Anatoly didn’t hear the rest of the conversation; he was too busy trying to figure out if this was yet a different vampire from the one who had killed Father Abrams. He knew there were plenty of his kind all over this city, but most lived on bagged blood or maintained relationships that allowed them to feed more easily.
Few hunted in a traditional sense anymore and even fewer staged it to look like murder.
The chances of two vampires pulling the same trick were slim. Unless one was copying the other?
Maggie shrugged at the officer, her eyes finally drifting to Anatoly. There was something she wanted to ask him, he could determine the question in her gaze, but she wasn’t foolish enough to ask him about the supernatural in a crowded room.
“Thanks, Officer, I’ll let you know if I have further questions,” Maggie said, dismissing her for the time being.
To his surprise, once the officer was gone, Maggie stepped over to him.
She was almost close enough that her elbow nearly brushed his as she leaned in and a deep, resounding need burst to life in his chest. Before he could act on the impulse to pull her into his arms in front of God and everyone, she whispered and he only got as far as placing a hand on her back.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Her voice was different, intimate again and the softness of her tone drew him in. Anatoly completely forgot the others near them and focused entirely on Maggie.
“I do not dare presume, Detective. What are you thinking?” Anatoly rumbled, his throat feeling dry as her deep brown eyes flicked to his mouth. He had been considering the case, but her proximity had distracted him and all he could think about now was kissing her again.
Maggie seemed to notice where his mind had drifted and flashed him a small, knowing smile. “Tsk, tsk, Anatoly,” she teased, her voice still a whisper only he could hear.
Gentle though it had been, it was enough to make him blush, the allure of her lips almost too much to resist. Pulling away pained him, but Anatoly did so anyway, putting more distance between them under the guise of studying the room himself.
“I’m wondering how our suspect got in,” Maggie announced behind him, all business once again. “I didn’t see any signs of forced entry when we arrived.”
This made Anatoly turn back around, regarding her with curiosity as he considered her words. “You think she knew killer?”
Maggie nodded and the blood in Anatoly’s veins turned to ice.
“Either that or I’m entirely off base and he snuck in an open window,” Maggie continued. “But that doesn’t explain that she was fully dressed, spread out over the foot of the made bed. She wasn’t sleeping, she was awake, and I’m betting she trusted the killer enough to let him in the front door.”
A shudder ran down his spine and more than ever he wanted Maggie in his arms where she was safest. None of this sat well with Anatoly. He suddenly had a sinking feeling. They weren’t looking for one vampire anymore; they were looking for someone with the expertise to copy one.