Chapter 10

10

W atching Donatella walk away was almost as nice as looking her in the eye. Dammit all, if she didn’t have a body made for sin with curves in all the right places.

“Maybe learn how to shield your thoughts better, Dipshit.” Gil’s voice broke the spell Rafe was under. “Yeah, she’s a nice lookin’ lady, but I really don’t need to know any more than that.”

Slamming his mental walls into place, Rafe saw red as he snarled, “Look at her one more time and I’ll rip your eyeballs out and feed them to Gus.”

Laughing out loud but speaking into his mind, Max appeared as if out of thin air, “How I would love to see you try to feed your brother’s eyes to that cantankerous old bull.”

“Butt out, Pussy Cat.”

“That’s King Pussy Cat to you, Lizard Boy.”

Feeling his temperature rising and the push of scales against the skin covering his spine, Rafe whipped around and stormed out of the station. Once outside, he gulped in the fresh air, pushing his Dragon King to fall back, needing to stay in control.

He’d never snapped at his brother, Max or anyone for that matter like he just had. This whole mating thing was messing with his head and an unfocused Dragon meant trouble – something Rafe had no trouble finding in the best of times.

Walking to his car, deciding that getting the four blocks to the Morgue was better than going back in and facing a smirking, supremely smug King of the Big Cats, he got in his rented SUV. Driving through the back streets, taking his time, trying to think of anything but Donatella Hale and the way she made him stark, raving crazy, he focused on everything he knew about the killer they were trying to catch.

Not only was the bastard clever, but he was finding a way of keeping his evil mysticism hidden from all the Supernaturals who called DFW their home. “And that’s no easy thing,” he mumbled to himself. “That shit stinks to high heaven and leaves a taint that never goes away.”

Pulling up to a four-way stop, it suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. “He’s underground.” Going when it was his turn, Rafe sped up, nearly jumping out of the SUV when he saw Nat pulling into the parking lot behind him.

Quick-stepping it to her car and opening the door, he held up his hand as she opened her mouth to speak and hurriedly explained, “The killer is underground.”

Waiting for her to applaud his genius, Rafe instead huffed as Nat furrowed her brow and shrugged, “And…that gets me closer to finding the asshole how?”

Rolling his eyes, tired of playing nice when his feisty mate absolutely refused to do anything but poke at him, he gripped the top of her door until his knuckles were white and slowly ground out every word. “It means, Miss Sass-in-Boots that to do what he’s doing, subdue the girls with black magic, remove their organs and make them look like their sleeping instead of dissecting – he has to be using black magic.”

“Yeah, you said that before. I still have no clue how I can use that to find him.” Getting out of the car, she stared at his hands on her door and raised her eyebrows. “You mind?”

Letting go and taking a step back as she closed the door and locked her car with a beep-beep , started walking towards the entrance to the Morgue. Catching up in three strides, trying hard not to get angry but failing just the same, Rafe grabbed her upper arm and stepped in front of her. “It means, Detective, that I can find him. I can use the heightened senses of my Dragon to track the black magic.”

Pursing her lips and looking anywhere but at him, Nat finally let out the breath she’d been holding and looked him right in the eye. “Okay, I get it. You can change into a Dragon. You’re one of the Universe’s chosen Warriors.”

“How did you…?”

It was her turn to raise her hand and make him be quiet which reminded him exactly how much he was growing to love her need to control anything and everyone in her orbit.

“Nona gave me a book,” she went on without missing a beat. “It was old and musty and contains way more information about things I thought only existed in story books than I care to admit, but I did read the entire section about Dragons, and I get it.”

Waiting as she looked one way and then the other, he was shocked when she added, “What you can do is nothing short of amazing, but I have to be able to write a report that my bosses will buy. I have to be able to explain how we found the asshole. I just can’t…”

Tired of watching her hem and haw, needing to calm her worries and ease her conscience, Rafe cut in, “How do you explain what happens when you use your Gift? I know there have been times when you just got a feeling or a hunch from your Sight and ran with it. What did you put in your reports?”

Her silence only served to make him push harder. “Admit it. You’ve gone through your entire life hiding who you are from everyone but your family. You have learned to mask it, work it into your everyday life, tone it down and make it seem ‘normal’, right?”

Stepping closer, his hands sliding down her arms until his fingers slid alongside hers, he leaned forward and whispered, “But from now on, you can be exactly who you are, who you were meant to be. You’d be surprised what people don’t see or simply refuse to acknowledge.”

Giving into temptation, he closed the scant distance between their lips. What was supposed to be a small gesture, a promise of what would be, proof that they were meant to be together, caught fire.

Wrapping his arms around Donatella, pulling her body tight to his, craving her more with every beat of his heart, he pushed her against the side of his SUV, and deepened their kiss. Demanding entrance, growling low in his throat as she immediately surrendered, he slid his tongue alongside hers, reveling in the currents of electricity caused by their cosmic connection, pushing their desire higher and higher.

Working his hands across her wondrous curves, gripping the round globes of her ass, he lifted her feet off the ground and rolled his hips to hers. Ecstasy was the only word he could think of to describe what it felt like to finally hold his glorious mate in his arms. His life was complete. He could…

“Ahem.”

Moving with the speed afforded him by the gift of his Dragon King, Rafe ripped his lips from Donatella’s, whipped his head to the side and snapped at Max, his voice more Dragon than man, “Go away.”

Another growl rose from his chest as Nat’s palms slapped against his shoulder and she wiggled her hips trying to get down. Digging his fingers into her butt, he pushed through gritted teeth, “Stop. Moving.”

Her eyes opened wide, like two coffee-colored saucers as her body became still as a stone and her lips formed a perfectly shaped ‘O’. “Sorry,” she whispered right before thinking, “Oh damn, he’s one big man,” to herself.

Too aroused for tact, Rafe winked as he spoke directly into her mind, “Oh, mo chroí, you have no idea.”

If possible, her eyes got even bigger before she schooled her features and demanded, “Put me down, ya’ damn beast.”

Ignoring the King’s snickers, Rafe let go of her luscious body and took a step back but not before whispering, “Soon, very soon.”

Stopping as she was straightening her shirt, Nat’s eyes snapped to his as she questioned, “Soon what?”

Letting his lips curve into a knowing grin, he once again spoke directly into her mind, “You’ll see what a beast I can be .”

Turning on a dime, he walked towards the entrance of the Morgue, laughing aloud when she stormed past him, grumbling, “Fat chance, Scale Boy.”

Following his mate, he walked alongside Max, just waiting for the smart remark he knew was brewing. True to form, the King jested, “Your Donatella is truly something, is she not?”

Smiling so big his cheeks hurt, Rafe readily agreed, “She damned sure is.”

“Have you met her grandmother yet?” Max’s question was cloaked with more than simple curiosity, making Rafe ask, “No, why?”

Nodding as they went through the third set of double doors and the subtle scent of death and antiseptic turned to nasal warfare, Max simply replied, “The apple does not fall far from the tree.”

Wanting to ask what the hell the King was waxing poetical about, Rafe’s attention was instead jerked to the strange little man in scrubs who was talking to Nat. No taller than her five-foot-six inches, his bald head shone in the harsh florescent lights, his skin was the color and thickness of tissue paper, and the completely round, thick black plastic of his bi-focals made his eyes look like they’d been drawn by a cartoonist.

Looking into those beady black eyes, Rafe saw nothing. No spark of life, no joy, no sadness, no nothing. It was as if they were buttons or marbles placed there by the same Puppet Master who manipulated his strings. Not only was it disconcerting, Rafe wanted the Medical Examiner absolutely nowhere near his mate. It wasn’t that he was jealous, he simply could not bear to think of his lifeless existence being in the vicinity of Nat’s vitality, exuberant spirit, and zest for life.

Crossing the room in four strides, Rafe casually held out his hand and stepped in just a bit closer to the Medical Examiner. Holding his credentials in his free hand, he introduced, “I’m Rafe O’Rhordan with the DPA.”

Something akin to the feel of millions of tiny spiders skittering up his arms and down his spine attacked Rafe as the creepy little man gave him a less than weak handshake and with a nasally whine reciprocated, “Dr. Norman Batterfield, Tarrant County Medical Examiner.”

Glad when he could let go and step back beside his mate, Rafe attempted a smile, adding, “Nice to meet you.”

Raising on his toes and spinning to the left, the doctor scampered, in the eeriest fashion Rafe had ever witnessed, to the side of the closest gurney and pulled back the institutional- blue sheet. Looking at the body of the girl he knew to have been Misty Blake, the Dragon let his senses flow into her corpse.

Examining the sixth and most recent victim of the vicious serial killer from the inside-out, he saw the deliberately delicate, highly skilled traces of the black magic practitioner around her chest cavity and where her liver had once been. So different from the marks left by Dr. Batterfield’s scalpel.

“Have you determined the cause of death?” Nat’s question snapped Rafe back to reality.

“Yes.” The Medical Examiner picked up a green folder from the silver instrument table on his right. Flipping through the pages, he continued, “She was drugged with a mixture of Rohypnol and Gamma Hydroxy Butyrate.”

“Date rape drugs?”

“Yes, but that’s only the beginning.” The doctor quickly responded to Nat’s question. “From the deteriorated amount in her blood stream and with the absence of her liver to do enzyme testing, I surmise that after approximately an hour she was given a large dose of Ketamine and the freshest molecules still in her blood tell us that she was given the lethal dose of a finely mixed cocktail of all three approximately ninety minutes later.”

“And you can tell all that even after she’s been in the water?” Rafe inquired, having seen for himself what the doctor was saying was true, but wondering how mere tests could prove the times with such precision.

“But of course.” Batterfield adjusted his spectacles. “She was dead before she went into the water, therefore she did not ingest it and because of that it was not diluted in her system.”

“Something doesn’t sound right.” Max’s comment in Rafe’s head put words to the Dragon’s thoughts then the King added, “I’m going to call a member of my Pride, a very well-known and incredibly intelligent doctor who’s word I trust above all others.”

“Thanks, Max. I’ll keep Poindexter here busy.”

Forcing himself not to smile when Max’s chuckle floated through his mind, Rafe continued to ask questions. “All six girls were killed in the same fashion?”

“Oh yes, although I did not perform all the autopsies, my learned colleagues provided me with each and every report and I can say without reservation that all six girls were killed in exactly the same fashion.”

“Would that be why they are all so close in body type, height, and weight?” Nat’s thoughts were a jumble of rage, disgust, and frustration, but Rafe had to hand it to her, she could put on a good front and stay professional on the outside.

Strong as hell and determined enough to tackle anything. Damn, she’s amazing…

“Very astute, Detective Hale. That is precisely why he would be looking for victims that do not vary in especially weight, he would be assured of success in subduing, keeping them asleep and then killing them every time.”

“Have all those reports been forwarded to my office?” Her tone was stern but Rafe felt the chaotic emotions within her. Leaning closer, letting his arm brush hers and pushing calming healing magic through their bond, he was glad to see her visibly relax.

It’s the least I can do for her…

“Yes, Detective, everything should be on your desk awaiting your return.” The tone of Dr. Batterfield’s voice had the same effect as nails on a chalkboard, making Rafe overjoyed when Nat replied, “Thank you for everything, Doctor,” and turned to leave.

Following her out the way they came in, Rafe stepped up to her side as they exited the last set of double doors. Holding the stainless steel framed glass door open for her, he asked, “What next, Detective?”

“We interview the suspects Sargent Finley has waiting for us.” Coming to a screeching halt, she poked him in the chest with the sharp tip of her index finger as she glared into his eyes and warned, “And by that, I mean, I talk, you listen, and…” Another especially hard poke that ended with her pushing her finger into the muscles of his chest as hard as she could as she added, “If you ever manhandle me again, I’ll gut you where you stand.”

Staying in place as she spun around and marched away, he waited until she was halfway out the door before chuckling, “The next time I manhandle you there’ll be no place to hide your knife, ‘cause, Darlin’, you’ll be naked as the day you were born.”