“He can’t hear you anymore,” Gem whispered. “He’s flipped his switch.”
The door swung open, and Claude flew out, a whirlwind of snowflakes melting as soon as they hit the floor. I didn’t bother grabbing my coat. Gem and I flashed to the left to catch up with him, but I skidded out of control when I turned the corner around the side of the building.
We both stopped at the same time, staring in disbelief at Claude crouched on the hood of a car parked between his salon and another building. A thin layer of snow glistened on the concrete, but most of the parking lot was a slushy mess. The businesses were closed, so it seemed peculiar to see a car backed up against his building. A thick layer of snow covered the trunk and hood, leaving me to believe it had been out here for at least a day.
Whatever internal switch that kept him human had shut off, and what remained was a Chitah in his primal state. Still a man, but ripples of spotted patterns flashed across his arms and neck, deadly upper and lower fangs gleaming in the dim light and animalistic instincts driving his every decision.
I sharpened my light and slowly approached the car. He punched through the windshield with his fist, glass shattering in a spiral around the point of impact.
“What’s he doing?” Gem asked.
Claude ripped away large chunks of the windshield. While he crawled through the opening, we hurried to the passenger side.
Gem wiped the snow off the glass so we could see inside. When Claude reached into the backseat, I noticed something.
“Claude, open the door!” I pounded on the window and jiggled the handle. “Open up!”
Gem hurried to the front of the car and circled to the driver’s side. “They’re all locked! Claude, you need to snap out of it. Open the door so we can help!”
She brushed away some of the glass from the hood, but I was already leaping onto the car. Without a second to lose, I crawled into the passenger seat, not even caring if he turned on me. I unlocked the door, but before I could open it for Gem, I glimpsed a woman in the backseat, fresh blood covering her hands and neck.
Claude turned to look at me, and his eyes were no longer onyx. Tears welled in them—angry tears. His lips peeled back, revealing sharp canines. “She’s gone.”
“What happened?”
Gem got the door halfway open and then jumped back when she saw the body. “I’ll call for help.”
“Don’t bother,” Claude said in disgust. “Just call the cleaners.”
Still breathing hard, he turned around and sat in the driver’s seat, his cheeks flushed. He didn’t seem to notice or care that his hands were bleeding.
I got a better look at the woman. The spike in energy that I’d felt in the salon had to be related. Someone had just murdered this woman; the blood was still trickling down her neck where someone had cut her throat.
I faced forward, the frigid wind blowing through the open windshield. “Why were the doors locked?”
“The killer didn’t want anyone to find her for a while. She’s buried beneath clothes.”
“The tall snow on the hood makes me think the car’s been here for at least a day or two. Do you think she lived in here?”
“I park out front and never have a reason to come this way. Had I known a female was living in her car, I would have done something about it. Helped her.”
I studied the victim, trying not to make the same mistake as I had last time by getting emotionally involved. It was hard to guess her age, but if I had to, I’d say approximately upper thirties. Frizzy black hair framed her face, and by the looks of things, she lived in her car. The space above the backseat was jam-packed full of items most people don’t keep in a car. Clothes, blankets, diapers…
“She had a baby.”
Claude snapped his head around. “Why do you say that?”
I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. “Diapers and bottles. The packages are open, so she wasn’t pregnant and hoarding supplies. I think she’s homeless. I’ve seen a lot of people living out of their cars. Sometimes they steal gas and move the vehicle into the Breed district, though I never paid attention if they were human or not. Nobody cares if a car sits unattended in a parking lot.”
Claude shut his eyes and reclined his head. “Now I know what this is about.”
“Domestic violence? Maybe she was a prostitute and her pimp didn’t want her to keep the kid.”
He shook his head. “Black market.”
Gem stood in front of the car while talking on her phone.
“Usually when they steal the child, it’s violent. The mother rarely survives.”
