“Go wait in the car, Raven. I need to have a word with the good detective.”
I turned around and gave him a punishing glare. “Don’t.”
He grinned wolfishly. “Go on, Precious. I turned the seat warmers on for you.”
I slowly strode out the door, hoping like hell that Christian didn’t get the sudden urge to tear the man apart. Vampires had tremendous strength in addition to their other gifts. Did we have enough solid evidence? Maybe it was all coincidence and I was overreacting, but something felt amiss. I needed to find out what Viktor wanted.
While I sat in the Honda, I watched the front doors and waited for flames to come bursting through the windows. Instead, Christian coolly walked out, one hand in his pocket and a smug look on his face.
He got in, revved the engine, and peeled out of the driveway.
Christian swept a heavy curl away from my face. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. What did you say to him?”
“That I’d sever his head if he came near my partner again. Are you sure he didn’t put his hands on you?”
I shook my head and decided to buckle my seat belt before Christian hit the brakes and I ended up as a hood ornament. “Did Viktor call you?”
“No. Are you making up fibs? Don’t tell me I came out here for your amusement.”
“What made you believe me?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t strike me as the damsel-in-distress type who wants my help. I could see you calling if you got yourself stranded and wanted someone to chauffeur you back to the mansion. But if you tell me your life’s in danger, I’m inclined to believe that’s the truth. Now what makes you think he’s the killer?”
“The shoes.” I touched my forehead with my fingertips, the adrenaline finally wearing off and leaving behind a headache. “He had a whole room with these shoes on display.”
“He might be a transvestite.”
“None of the shoes had a match. Remember what I noticed at the crime scenes? All the victims were missing a shoe. Serial killers take souvenirs. It reminds them of the crime and how it felt to have that kind of power.”
He snorted. “That explains your arsenal of weapons.”
“He also said his name’s Willard. That’s the name of the man Penny put in her diary.”
Christian stroked his beard with his left hand. “That’s pretty suspicious. Anything else?”
“He hates Vampires.”
Christian snorted. “He can stand in line with half the city.”
“No, I mean he really hates Vampires. He’s got demons from a relationship gone bad. If he’s the killer, I think he murdered Marlene to pin it on you.”
“And why would he do that? Do you think that would make him stop?”
“I don’t have all the answers, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Maybe when I called him from Washington he got scared we were closing in on him. It explains why he stabbed her through the heart and didn’t take her shoe. I found it lying in the field near the body. Marlene wasn’t a Mage, but he needed a scapegoat.”
“He made too many mistakes,” Christian muttered. “The first being that he crossed me.”
The scenery blurred as he punched the accelerator and we moved at lightning speed.
“Viktor sent a message asking me to come home. Something about a kidnapping involving a pack of Shifters.”
“That’s a lie, to be sure.”
He veered into a McDonald’s parking lot and pulled to the side. Christian leaned in close, studying my eyes, my jaw, my mouth, my neck. This time when he spoke, a current of possession rose in his tone. “Are you sure he didn’t touch you?”
For a brief moment, my heart skipped a beat at the way he looked at me—the same look he gave me when he was standing in the doorway to Glass’s house.
