Chapter 7

Koda left the safe house—anoxymoron considering the banshee inhabitant—at a quick clip. While he'd not lied about getting them food, he had an ulterior motive for wanting to put distance between him and his partner. He needed to use his phone and could only do that away from Marissa, so anyone possibly tracking him through it wouldn't be led straight to her.

Koda planned to call Abe. Not returning to the office that afternoon and not checking in with the boss would alert the precinct that something was off. If he didn't touch base soon, Kowalski would have all of CA looking for their asses.

Only once he'd walked a few miles did Koda insert his battery into his phone and make a call.

Abe answered right away. "Where are you? No one's seen or heard from you since this morning, and you haven't been replying to my messages."

"Shit happened, and so we went off-grid."

"We? You're with Agent Smith?" Abe's sharp query.

"Yeah."

"What happened? Why are you flying under the radar?"

"Yesterday we went to question a witness to the fire in the cell phone shop."

Kowalski took a second to answer, and Koda knew the man was debating whether to grill him on why they'd been there instead of investigating the fires he'd assigned, or to trust Whiteclaw's methods and just let him be. Thankfully, the latter won out. "And did he have anything to say?"

"Not much." Koda glanced at the blue sky, deciding how much he wanted to say. He didn't have an issue with Abe, that man had earned his trust, however, he did wonder if anyone eavesdropped on the call. At the same time, why not reveal what they'd discovered. If he and Marissa were targets already, then sharing what they knew wasn't going to change that now. "We did get a partial image of the woman who robbed the store, and we learned there were twenty minutes between her leaving and the fire starting. Otherwise, nothing else of real use. Still, someone must have been worried because the clerk we talked to was killed last night."

"By the chimera?"

"Unlikely, given the span of time between the witness talking to the police and then to us. Besides, the report had him dead of a gunshot wound, not fire."

"Probably a robbery gone wrong."

"That's what the reports said." It's what someone wants us to believe. He didn't share this suspicion with Abe.

"What's the status on your search for related arsons? Any leads?"

"No." He tactfully avoided informing Abe that they'd yet to look into that. "We're dredging up more questions than answers. Such as the fact the chimera has a bounty on her head."

"Not surprising. She's a wanted criminal."

"This has nothing to do with apprehending her to return to prison, though. The person paying wants her delivered alive."

"Who?" Abe sharply queried.

"No clue. It's a mystery, just like that useless file you gave us with the blacked-out information. I don't suppose you've been able to dig up anything useful for us?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"Why would the CA have redacted the charges against her?" he asked. "Or her name for that matter?"

"No idea." Abe's non-answers would have frustrated Koda more if he didn't grasp the complications of bureaucracy. Just because Kowalski led a precinct didn't mean he had immediate access to information from those higher up in the CA.

"Then how did the CA connect her to the fires in the first place?" He found himself parroting Smith's argument.

"Let's just say I received an inside tip."

"Meaning someone else is monitoring her actions. Who?"

"I can't say. Let's just say they're eager for her to be found."

"Is it someone in the CA?"

"I'm afraid that's privileged information. Sorry."

That had Koda grinding his teeth. "Given the lengths someone is going to keep her under wraps, you might want to be careful."

"You're sounding a little paranoid," Abe cajoled.

"More like cautious. Something about this case isn't adding up."

"I have faith in you and Agent Smith. You're both smart and tenacious. Why do you think I chose you to work on this?" Abe paused before saying, "What's your next move? Any idea of where the chimera might have gone after the last fire?"

"No. But we're working on it." He didn't mention the plan to use themselves as bait to draw out the person—or cryptid—that might have killed the clerk. Maybe they were being paranoid and it was just a coincidence he died right after their visit.

"How do I get a hold of you? Are you at the hotel or Marissa's place?" Abe queried.

"Neither. She worried about us being spied upon or attacked. So we're staying somewhere off the main beat."

"If you're that worried, the office can provide extra agents as backup."

"We're fine." He didn't mention the fact Smith worried the CA department still had rats.

Abe caught on anyhow. "You don't have to worry about their integrity. I've vetted them all at this point. They're good."

"I'm sure they are, but for the moment, we're going to work this together. If we need more help, we'll let you know."

"This place you're staying at, it's secure?"

"Of sorts, so long as we don't piss off the owner," he joked. He still couldn't wrap his head around the fact a banshee was allowed to live essentially free of restraint. Most were incarcerated or exorcised because of their murderous predilection.

"Good. Try to keep me apprised of the situation."

"Will do."

Koda hung up and pulled the battery from his phone before quickly making his way out of the area. Was Abe correct about them being paranoid? Technically, they'd not been directly attacked or threatened. The library thing with the gargoyles had nothing to do with the current case.

Still, it didn't hurt to be cautious. He hit the food bank and made a note of its address so he could make a cash donation later to cover what he took, plus some. By the time he returned to the house, taking a circuitous route despite seeing no one, dusk had settled. The porch light of the banshee's home provided a beacon on an otherwise very dark street.

He knocked because it seemed rude to just walk in.

The door swung open, and Koda stepped in to see Lenora floating in the hall wringing her hands. "About time you returned. I couldn't talk her out of it."

"Talk Marissa out of what?"

"Going to talk to the firefighters."

He set the box of groceries down. "Dare I ask why?"

"To ask them about the color of the fires they've seen lately. She also said something about contacting some firefighters in other towns to pose the same question."

"And why did she suddenly feel a need to do that?"

"Something about purple fire and the chimera. Which makes no sense since their kind makes blue flames."

"Wait, the chimera's fire burns blue?"

"Don't tell me you didn't know that either." Lenora rolled her eyes as she floated in lazy eights in the front hall. "Exactly what are they teaching agents these days?"

"How long ago did she leave?"

"Maybe an hour after you."

"Did she mention how she'd be talking to the firefighters? Was she calling them? Going to see them in person?"

Lenora shrugged. "She just said tell him—as in you—to wait here and she'd be back soon."

Soon could mean any number of things. One hour. Two…

He wondered how long he should wait before he worried. Actually, he already worried because, if it were true and the chimera's burned blue, then that meant the cell phone store fire had been set by someone other than the chimera. Hell, the woman seen exiting could have been anyone. It wasn't as if they had a picture to compare, only the word of whatever CA agent who claimed to detect chimera essence at the location. It also raised an interesting question: Why was someone trying to frame the chimera for arson?

Something in the whole equation didn't add up. He just needed to figure it out. But now he understood what Marissa sought. Proof of fires actually set by the chimera. Because if the flames were anything but blue, then they were chasing the wrong arsonist.

Sitting around didn't suit Koda, especially as the evening progressed with no sign of Smith. A woman with too much bravery, unafraid to investigate on her own. No wonder Abe wanted her partnered with someone. She couldn't just be going off and… what? Doing just as he had. Furthering their investigation. Why did he think it okay for him to leave but not her?

He'd never shown misogynistic tendencies before, so what about Smith was different? Why did he want her working with him, closely, as in his line of vision? He had one answer that he didn't particularly care for. The mating urge. Something he'd thought himself immune to. After all, that sudden irresistible attraction to someone happened to other people, not him. Or so he'd always thought. Now, with his anxiety peaking because he had no idea where to find his partner, he had to wonder if he'd been afflicted.

Whatever the reason, as the evening progressed, his worry compounded—What if she's hurt? Stuck? Captured? He'd just about convinced himself to go looking when she entered the house.

"I'm back," Smith chirped as he launched himself out of a living room chair.

"About time," he barked.

"Did you miss me?" she teased.

Yes, but instead, he whined, "We're supposed to be a team."

"Teams are allowed to research things on their own. You did your thing, I did mine. No harm."

"No harm except I had no idea where you were or when to expect you back."

"Sorry. I would have called, but the whole 'my phone is currently in the custody of angry gargoyles' thing made it kind of hard. Now instead of being a berating daddy, why don't you ask me what I found out?"

He wanted to keep haranguing and had to remind himself she was a grown-ass woman and an accomplished agent. She knew how to do her job, so he needed to stop being so goddamned overprotective. And to the tiny inner voice that asked, no, he would not be peeing on her. Or biting. Or doing the horizontal tango. And the same went for doggy style.

"Where did you go, and what did you discover?" he growled as he followed her into the kitchen, doing his best to not picture that round ass of hers in the air.

She dug into the box of food as she replied. "I went to the nearby fire station, where a friend of mine works. I wanted to get some info from the source. In unfortunate news, there have been two recent local fires attributed to magic, but they burned purple, not blue, which is the—"

"Color the chimera casts."

"Wait, how do you know the chimera casts blue?"

"Lenora told me." He waved a hand. "So what do we know about these fires? I take it you asked."

"I did. Lucky for me Rick was—"

"Who's Rick?" he blurted out, unable to stop the spurt of jealousy that suddenly infused his body.

"Pal of mine who is a firefighter. Anyhow, of the two new purple fires, one was at a motel off the highway, and the other in an abandoned mall."

"Not a lot to go off of. Mall fire could be from any magic hooligans messing around. Same for the motel, really."

"Right. We won't know for sure if it's related to our others until we can get one of those scryers to see if they can detect chimera essence."

"Did Rick find anything else for you?"

"Yes, actually." She spoke with a bright smile that Koda could only hope was for the fact that they had new evidence, and not from thinking about Rick. "He had some connections at the department that worked on the mobile phone store fire. Of interest, not one firefighter who showed up to the cell phone store fire claimed to have seen any blue flames."

"We already knew that from the video footage we saw."

"Never hurts to confirm," Marissa stated. "But knowing that, it does raise a question. Why have CA agents claimed the chimera is responsible for these four fires?"

"She's an escaped prisoner with a fire power, and a scryer picked up her essence in the area. Could be they drew a connection and didn't know about the blue flames."

"Maybe." She shrugged. "Anyhow, Rick was then kind enough to do a search to see if we could find any other blue or purple fires since the prison break last year. Not a single blue reported one since the chimera's escape, but purple? There's been at least a dozen in the past six months. Of special interest, once Rick inputted the addresses into a map on his computer, I noticed they form a zigzag that starts from the prison where the chimera escaped, heading in what seems like the direction of this town."

"Which makes it more likely that the mall fire and the hotel fire are connected, and the chimera was headed here all along."

"The purple fire starter was headed here," Marissa corrected. "And yes, it appears that way, or her destination lies past us. In either case, it explains why Kowalski worried she'd be hitting our town soon."

"But why here?"

She shrugged. "I assume there's something or someone she wants in the area."

"Which will be almost impossible to figure out given the redaction of her file."

"I wish I still had it," she grumbled. "I wonder if a spell of revelation would have let us read the full report."

"It was printed that way, so highly unlikely."

"Says you," she pouted. "I'd like to think my magic might have been able to see through it."

"Wishful thinking." He changed the subject. "Abe will be happy to learn that he was right about the fires headed this way."

"He already knows," her flat reply.

"What do you mean he knows?"

She pressed her lips together before explaining. "The fire station had already informed the CA about the purple fires, and I knew that Abe would be starting to get concerned about not hearing from us, so I used Rick's VPN to drop Abe a message and let him know we were on top of things. I'm sorry, I know we agreed to not share info but—"

"Don't be sorry. I also spoke with Abe while I was out." He cut her off before she continued on her guilt-fueled apology.

"You did?" She blinked at him in surprise before a smile bloomed. "I guess great minds do think alike."

"I guess so." The thought warmed him as much as her smile did.

"How much of our investigation did you share with him?"

"Not too much since I worried his phone might be compromised. He's aware of what we learned from the clerk and the bounty."

"How did he react?" She looked wary, as though she worried they might be in trouble.

"Interested but not excitable. Accepting that we're choosing to lie low."

She nodded, relieved. "Typical Kowalski."

"Still want to hit CA headquarters tonight?"

She yawned. "Maybe after a power nap? It's been a long day."

"Probably best we wait until tomorrow night, then. We'll be able to plan how we want to handle it."

"You mean lay the trap for whoever might be watching us."

"Assuming someone is."

"Given our current case, I'd say that's a given. Someone wants the chimera found as much as someone else doesn't. At this point, I think locating either one of them might advance our current task."

"I agree."

"Good. I'll talk to you in the morning, then. Night." She headed off, taking the stairs to the second floor.

His gaze went to the ceiling as if he could track her steps. Not just could, he did.

Lenora drifted down to murmur, "She's in the guest bed, which is big enough for two."

The suggestion startled. "We're not lovers."

"You will be." Lenora managed to sound certain.

"We're just partners."

"So were my husband and I until we married." Her lips turned down and trembled as she added, "They executed him as he stood in front of our children trying to defend them."

"Who did that to your family?" he asked.

"A criminal." Her mouth curled in derision, and her hair whipped in agitation as her voice rose in pitch. "I'd arrested him for illegal cryptid trafficking. A judge set him free on bail. He chose to take his anger out on my poor babies."

"You killed him." He stated, not asked.

"Oh yes. He was the first to hear my scream." The banshee grinned, and it gave him a shiver, for the violence—and madness—were plain to see.

"Why come back here?" he wondered aloud. "Wouldn't your grief be less somewhere with no memories?"

"I don't want to forget," Lenora's indignant reply.

"Then you're braver than most."

"And you are afraid of a little witch," cackled Lenora.

"Not afraid." Just leery of his sudden intense interest.

"Where should I sleep?" he asked to change the subject.

"There is only one guest bed."

"Which is already occupied," he reminded.

"It's big enough, as stated, for two, but if you insist on being stubborn, then the couch should be able to accommodate."

He grimaced. He'd sat on it earlier. Firm, narrow but at least long enough for his frame. He'd slept on worse.

The uncomfortable sofa couldn't be blamed for his restlessness though. He kept staring at the ceiling, knowing she slumbered directly above. And he knew this despite having not visited the second floor. Call it instinct. Or the animal within. He found himself much too aware of Marissa.

And horny too.

His cock kept asking him for some help, but he worried Lenora would catch him. She flitted in and out of the living room at random, peering out the windows before drifting off again.

He held in a sigh as he shifted for the umpteenth time on the couch. Sleep remained elusive, and thus, when he heard a small cry, he arose instantly and found himself halfway up the stairs before it occurred to him that perhaps he should slow down before barging in on Marissa.

What if rather than being attacked, she had a bad dream?

A noise like that could also be a sign she masturbated.

Dirty, wishful thinking, still the reasoning slowed his steps on the second-floor landing and walked quietly to the door at the end of the hall. He pressed his ear to the panel and listened.

Heard nothing at first then a soft moan. Not one of pleasure, though. It raised the hairs on his nape.

He put his hand to the knob on the door and hissed, as it burned his palm. He snatched it back and shook it as if that would cure the blister forming. He smelled and saw no sign of smoke, but the knob wouldn't be scalding for no reason. He stripped his shirt and wrapped it around the knob before turning it again.

Expecting to see an inferno, he stumbled and halted in surprise at the threshold of the room. For one, he didn't find any fire. Not a real blaze at any rate, but definite heat oozed from the space. It scorched the skin and seared the lungs as he breathed in.

The bed, a queen-sized four-poster held a flowered comforter, wreathed in ghostly flames. They licked around the woman lying on the mattress, her eyes closed, her face slack in repose.

"Smith?" He murmured her name softly, not wanting to startle her. What happened? Dream, nightmare, or something else? The air tingled with static, indicating magic at play.

"No." Her head flapped to the side. She moaned, and the ghost flames rose in response.

Despite them being new acquaintances, he used her first name to see if she might respond better. "Marissa, wake up."

She trembled under the covers, and then she floated. Wraithlike and unresponsive, her body lifted from the mattress, and despite the flames not being real, her clothing, a nightgown that seemed out of date, burned. It fell in tatters and ash to the mattress below, leaving her nude.

He should have looked away. Should have shouted, grabbed her for a shake, even called Lenora for help.

Instead, he stared.

He knew it was wrong, but damn! The woman had a slamming body, and a man only had so much willpower. It took all of his to avert his gaze.

This couldn't be good. He had to wake her. He tried to take a step forward, only to recoil with a gasp as a wall of heat slammed him.

"What's going on?" Lenora shrieked. "Why is the bed on fire?"

"I think Marissa is having a nightmare and her magic is reacting." His grim reply as he tried to figure out how to help her.

"Oh dear. Oh dear." Lenora flitted around the room, unaffected by the heat.

"Wake her up," he suggested since Lenora could at least get close without harm.

Lenora halted midair to blink at him before diving in a swoop that had her brushing past Marissa's nude form. Again and again, Lenora tried to subtly wake before she finally halted above the witch and uttered a piercing shriek that sent him to his knees.

Ow.

It hurt his ears, but at least it woke Marissa. She went to sit bolt upright, and whatever magic fueled her levitation failed. She slammed into the bed and bounced before she bounded to her feet, where she stood gloriously naked atop the mattress.

"What's happened?" she huffed, fists raised ready to fight.

He pushed himself to his feet. "You were on fire… of sorts. It was weird though. I could feel heat, and it destroyed your gown, but you appear unharmed and nothing else burned."

"Not again," she muttered, glancing down at her nude body. Her cheeks turned pink. "Um."

Lenora replied before Marissa could. "I'll get you another nightgown."

His cue to leave, only he kept standing there, trying to look her in the eye and not any lower.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Just embarrassed. I haven't had one of the fire dreams in years."

"What exactly is a fire dream?"

Her lips pursed. "It's a memory. Or so I assume. I was orphaned at a young age. Parents unknown. Authorities found me in the remains of a house that burned down."

"You were the only survivor?" he queried.

"Yes. There was much argument about if I actually lived in that house or was placed there once the fire died down."

"Why would anyone do that?"

She rolled her shoulders as she sat down, hiding most of her body.

Pity.

"I've heard a few theories to explain how they found me. Some thought I was abandoned on purpose. That whoever had custody of me saw the ruins and knew emergency crews would be by and find me. Others claim I was the fire starter and killed my family. I didn't," she amended. "They never found any bodies."

"What do you remember?"

"Nothing." She shook her head. "My memories begin the moment they plucked me from those ashes."

"Give her this." Lenora swooped into the room, dropped a nightgown in front of him, and flitted off.

He snared the fabric, something slinkier than before. He held it out but knew he didn't have the reach to hand it over. It meant walking farther into the room, closer to the bed, closer to her.

Marissa leaned forward, and this time he couldn't stop his eyes from following the sway of her breasts as she bent to snare the nightgown from his hand.

"Thanks." She proceeded to drop the gown over her head, and only once it hit her calves—and hid her luscious frame—did she sigh. "That's better. Nothing like showing your partner the goods less than a week on the job."

"Would you feel better if I exposed myself so we're even?"

"Sure." She knelt on the bed, dressed in the gown, and yet she might as well have remained naked given how it hugged her curves and the tips of her nipples poked through the fabric. "Let's go. Show me the goods."

His eyes widened. "Wait, I was only kidding."

"I'm not. You've seen me naked. Your turn." She waved a hand and waited.

He ducked his head, and his cheeks flooded with heat. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? Afraid I'll ogle."

No, he feared doing something he couldn't take back, like dragging her into his arms for a kiss.

"More that I'll embarrass myself. It's been a while since I've been with someone. I wouldn't want to shock you." He had a semi hard-on that he didn't want her to see.

"That small?"

His mouth rounded. "No."

"Says you." She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "Let's see it."

"I'd really rather not."

"Well, you'd better get a new partner then because I can't work with you knowing you've seen me in the buff."

"How does seeing me naked fix that?"

Her lips quirked. "Because then we'd be even."

"My shirt is off." He pointed out the obvious.

"But not your pants."

"You're really serious."

"Yup." She stood. "So what's it going to be? Partners? Or am I working solo again?"

"This is dumb," he grumbled as his hands went to the button on his jeans.

"It's just nudity. You're a shifter. This shouldn't be such an issue."

"I'm private about such things."

"So am I," she countered as he undid the next two buttons on his fly.

It took a deep breath and staring at the upper part of the wall before he could shove his pants down his thighs.

"Underpants too."

He grabbed them and whipped them down to his ankles. "Happy?"

"All the way off," she stated, hopping off the bed and standing closer to him.

Rather than argue, he kicked his pants and underpants to the side, planted his hands on his hips, and pursed his lips.

She cocked her head and stared. She didn't even try to look at his face. She stared at his cock. His cock noticed, even lifted its head to say hello.

And what did she do? Licked her lips. "Not bad, Whiteclaw."

His cock jutted and pointed in her direction. "You better not whine about me sexually harassing you because this"—he gestured to his erection—"is not my fault."

"You're right. It's mine." Her grin warmed him through and through. "Why, Agent Whiteclaw, I do believe you find me attractive."

"As if there was any doubt," he grumbled.

She took a step closer. "You're nothing like I first expected."

"What did you expect?"

"Well, seeing as how the first time I saw you, an entourage stroked your ego, I expected you to be pompous."

He snorted. "People are weird around me because of the ogre situation from a few years ago."

She blinked. "Wait, that was you that wrestled into submission that rampaging ogre in Scottsdale?"

"Yup."

Her gaze went to his arms, the biceps defined but not overtly so. "Nice job."

"I guess. I didn't actually go there to wrangle the ogre. I was supposed to locate a missing artifact from a museum."

"You're smaller than I would have expected from the stories."

"You should never put any credence in rumors."

"Except for the one saying you're hung like a satyr."

"What?" He blinked at her. "Who's saying that?"

Once more, her lips curved in a way that had his cock aching. "Just something I heard. Turns out it's true."

The comment only made his face hotter and his dick harder. "Okay, now that we've ogled each other, can I get dressed?"

"I suppose," she huffed. Then laughed. "The look on your face is priceless."

"And what look is that?"

She took a step closer, close enough she had to tilt her head and he could have reached out easily to drag her close. "Embarrassment, a bit of anger, but also lust. Nice to know I've still got it at thirty-five."

"You're hot as fuck, and you know it."

Her lips pursed. "It's actually been a while since anyone noticed. I don't date much."

"Me either. The job keeps me busy."

"It does," she agreed. "People outside the CA agency don't understand."

"They want to know why you're late or all bruised up."

"Then they tell you to get a nice job, a safe job."

He chuckled. "As if I'd change my life."

"Someone who gets it," she murmured.

Oh, he did. It was why his relationships never lasted.

Despite them not speaking, they drew closer. Him bending down, her leaning up. The kiss hit him like a jolt. A soft press of her lips to his. A shock that rocked him head to toe.

Before he could react—as in drag her close and thoroughly embrace her—she drew back. "I'm sorry. That was wrong of me. You should get dressed."

As if he could stuff his turgid cock back into his pants. He did his best but had to leave them partially unbuttoned. She gazed out a window as he said, "Good night, Agent Smith."

To his surprise, she murmured, "Call me Marissa."

"Good night, Marissa."

"Sweet dreams, Koda."

The couch wasn't to blame for his inability to sleep. The woman upstairs had left him hard and aching. Also confused. He didn't understand his insane attraction to her.

His inability to slumber wasn't aided by Lenora's lurking and tsking. "You really don't know how to seduce, do you? You had her. What happened? Why are you back on the couch?"

"We barely know each other."

"And? I knew my husband only a day before I decided I would marry him."

Marry? They'd just met. This was simply lust. So explain then the certainty that if they did sleep together, it might turn into forever.