“But why? Aren’t they all about sex?” Lamar shook his head. “They don’t have to kill to get what they want, do they?”
“They don’t have to, no,” Trask agreed. “But there’s a twist here.” When Lamar kept staring at him, he sighed. “The intoxicants, Coop. The heroin and the booze. This killer isn’t just sucking off the sexual energy like they usually do. They’re getting the victim totally fucked up first and then draining their life force completely to feel the high.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just take the shit? Why risk killing and getting caught?”
Trask groaned. “Seriously. Y’all really need to take some classes. It takes a significant amount more drugs or alcohol to get a paranormal being wasted. But by feeding off a drunk or high victim at the moment of sexual release, the killer is getting twice the normal rush.”
“Okay,” Lamar’s head tilted slightly as he considered that. “So, why is it killing them instead of just feeding off them? And how is it choosing his victims?”
“The victim selection? I have no clue,” Trask admitted with a shrug. “Since both victims had ties toAfter Nine, they probably do also. I’d assume it’s killing them because it’s illegal to feed off humans without their consent and an intoxicated human can’t legally consent.”
As Lamar digested that information, Trask flipped back to the DNA profiles. “Can you get me a copy of this? I’d like to have a friend over at the college take a look at this tweaked strand.”
“You can take that one,” Lamar offered, rubbing his forehead. “It’s a spare copy that I brought it home to show you.”
“Great. I’ll give him a call tomorrow.” Trask glanced up at the clock over the fireplace mantle. “It’s almost midnight. I need to get going.”
“Thanks, man.” Lamar stood, letting his hand stroke over Aeren’s shoulder as he slept. “I’ll walk you out.”
