Chapter Three
Just over an hour passed before Lamar’s phone dinged to announce an incoming text from Trask’s number.
Address?
Tramp On Inn,he typed back.
Fuck. Again?
Yep. Lamar found himself nodding as he typed.20 minutes?
When the thumbs up came back, Lamar reached for the shoes he’d kicked off by his chair, shoved his backup piece into his ankle holster, and hit the road. Trask’s department issued sedan was already idling in the fire lane out front of the motel when he pulled up.
“Thanks for doing this,” Lamar greeted him, clapping his old friend on the shoulder. “I really appreciate it.”
“No problem,” Trask responded with a smile. “Now, what have you got?”
“Well,” Lamar began, leading the way around the building. “We have a DOA that came in over the weekend but it’s weird.” When Trask raised a brow, Lamar shrugged. “Pants down around his ankles, needle jabbed into his thigh, and a mouth full of what we think is his own jizz.”
Trask wrinkled his nose, making Lamar laugh.
“Yeah, like I said, weird.” He stopped in front of the fading chalk lines that marked where the body was found and gestured up. “See those gouges in the brick?”
“Yeah,” Trask frowned, narrowing his eyes. “What the hell made those?”
“Honestly,” Lamar said. “I was hoping you could tell me. I can only think of a limited number of possibilities, and none of them really makessense.”
“Probably not human,” Trask muttered, echoing Lamar’s opinion on the topic. “At least, I don’t see how it could be.” He glanced around the alley and crossed to where a beat-up old metal dumpster listed against the wall. Dropping his shoulder into it, he grunted and huffed as he pushed it back to where Lamar stood, rolling his eyes.
“Not getting a chance to flex those dragon muscles lately, huh?”
Trask snorted. “Screw you. I need a boost and no way your scrawny ass is gonna be able to hoist me up.”
Far from scrawny or out of shape, Lamar just shrugged. He knew from past experience that dragon shifters had lead bones, so he wasn’t about to argue out of pride. Hell, the last time he’d had to drag Trask’s ass out of harm’s way, he’d nearly thrown his back out.
Slamming the lid down and clambering up, Trask ran his fingers over the lower set of marks, muttering to himself and measuring them against his hand. “Anyone coming?”
Lamar took a good look at their surroundings and shook his head. “No. We’re all alone. I’d guess the police activity over the last few days is probably discouraging the locals from hanging out here at the moment.”
Trask stretched one hand out, flexing his fingers as the air around him glimmered. When the dragon’s talons erupted, Trask carelessly wiped the traces of blood on his jeans and laid his hand back over the marks, shaking his head.
Jumping down, he retracted his talons and exhaled harshly. “It’s definitely not a dragon,” he said, answering Lamar’s unasked question. “The marks are much too narrow, almost like they were made by a wolf or a small tiger.” His eyes narrowed as he looked up at them again. “Too narrow to even be a bear.”
When Lamar snorted, Trask grinned. “What? You weren’t worried about an influx of killer bears?” He relented when his partner shook his head. “I just thought it might give you an idea of what general size you’re looking for – think long, sharp, and very narrow.”
“Got it.”
“I’ll see if I can hunt down any possibilities,” Trask offered.
“That’d be great, Vic. Thanks.”
Trask wandered to the end of the block and back, stopping every few feet to sniff the air. He finally stopped back at Lamar’s side. “Do you smell that?”
“You mean the rotting garbage and piss?”
Trask huffed a laugh. “Yeah, besides that. The sulfur smell.”
Lamar traced his steps and finally caught the slightest scent of rotten eggs near where the body had been found. “Yeah, butbarely.”
