Anatoly didn’t hear the rest of the conversation; he was too busy trying to figure out if this was yet a different vampire from the one who had killed Father Abrams. He knew there were plenty of his kind all over this city, but most lived on bagged blood or maintained relationships that allowed them to feed more easily. Few hunted in a traditional sense anymore and even fewer staged it to look like murder. The chances of two vampires pulling the same trick were slim. Unless one was copying the other?
Maggie shrugged at the officer, her eyes finally drifting to Anatoly. There was something she wanted to ask him, he could determine the question in her gaze, but she wasn’t foolish enough to ask him about the supernatural in a crowded room.
“Thanks, Officer, I’ll let you know if I have further questions,” Maggie said, dismissing her for the time being.
To his surprise, once the officer was gone, Maggie stepped over to him. She was almost close enough that her elbow nearly brushed his as she leaned in and a deep, resounding need burst to life in his chest. Before he could act on the impulse to pull her into his arms in front of God and everyone, she whispered and he only got as far as placing a hand on her back.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Her voice was different, intimate again and the softness of her tone drew him in. Anatoly completely forgot the others near them and focused entirely on Maggie.
“I do not dare presume, Detective. What are you thinking?” Anatoly rumbled, his throat feeling dry as her deep brown eyes flicked to his mouth. He had been considering the case, but her proximity had distracted him and all he could think about now was kissing her again.
Maggie seemed to notice where his mind had drifted and flashed him a small, knowing smile. “Tsk, tsk, Anatoly,” she teased, her voice still a whisper only he could hear.
Gentle though it had been, it was enough to make him blush, the allure of her lips almost too much to resist. Pulling away pained him, but Anatoly did so anyway, putting more distance between them under the guise of studying the room himself.
“I’m wondering how our suspect got in,” Maggie announced behind him, all business once again. “I didn’t see any signs of forced entry when we arrived.”
This made Anatoly turn back around, regarding her with curiosity as he considered her words. “You think she knew killer?”
Maggie nodded and the blood in Anatoly’s veins turned to ice.
“Either that or I’m entirely off base and he snuck in an open window,” Maggie continued. “But that doesn’t explain that she was fully dressed, spread out over the foot of the made bed. She wasn’t sleeping, she was awake, and I’m betting she trusted the killer enough to let him in the front door.”
A shudder ran down his spine and more than ever he wanted Maggie in his arms where she was safest. None of this sat well with Anatoly. He suddenly had a sinking feeling. They weren’t looking for one vampire anymore; they were looking for someone with the expertise to copy one.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Maggie let out an annoyed sigh as she rested against the edge of Lieutenant Martin’s desk, waiting. In the chair opposite the lieutenant’s seat was Anatoly, his hands folded neatly on his lap and an unreadable expression on his face.
His patience continued to impress her, especially in moments like this when they were stuck sitting here when they should have been out there tracking down not one, but two killers. In the last couple hours, they had come closer to unraveling the case, but there was something Maggie was sure she was still missing.
Upon their arrival at the station, Martin had called them into his office, told them not to leave, and then disappeared. That was twenty odd minutes ago and Maggie was trying very hard to follow Anatoly’s calm example.
“Relax, Detective,” Anatoly finally rumbled in response to Maggie’s fidgeting. “Is good opportunity for reflection, da?”
“Nyet,” she replied, far more flippantly than she meant. The word rolled easily off her tongue, feeling good on her lips as she thought of all the times Anatoly had said it. She decided it sounded better coming from him, but the way he chuckled at her suggested he wasn’t offended.
Then she saw it, a flash of mischief in his gray eyes that took her by surprise. His jaw popped beneath his beard and she realized he was holding something back, something she very badly wanted to hear.
Before she could pry it out of him, the office door banged open, destroying the moment and giving Maggie an instant headache. Lieutenant Martin was back and when she looked up, the feeling in her stomach dropped to a whole new low.
Martin wasn’t alone. Standing there with him was Captain Declan.
Maggie nearly choked on her own spit and by some stroke of luck at the same time, she managed not to throat punch her ex for daring to bother her at work. They had an agreement: he stayed in his lane and she stayed in hers. This was bull shit, but before she could cuss them both out, Declan threw up his hands in surrender. It bought him a couple seconds to speak.
“This is a professional meeting, Detective Boone,” he said. “I’m on orders from up the food chain. You know how it goes.”
She glanced over at Martin, her eyes narrowed to sharp slits, refusing to address Declan in the slightest. “What the hell is going on here, Martin?”
To his credit, he had the good sense to at least look displeased. Whatever was happening, he didn’t seem to be a fan either. Good, maybe he’d get off his ass and advocate for the night shift for a change, but Maggie doubted it. For being a cop, Martin had a yellow streak a mile wide. Or maybe that was just her anger being a bitch.
“They’re shifting the case to an elite taskforce, Maggie,” he answered, unable to quite meet her eyes. “You can still work the copy cat angle, but the other murders are being passed to the day shift.”
Maggie practically vibrated with so much rage she couldn’t see straight. The only reason she didn’t put her fist through the wall was a sudden shift from Anatoly that reminded her of his presence and instantly her good sense returned.
Her jaw tight and hands clenched into fists at her side, the detective imagined his strong hand would be on her shoulder if professionalism hadn’t prevented it, but just the thought kept her from doing something foolish. This whole thing sucked, but Maggie wasn’t in it alone and she couldn’t afford to get thrown off the case entirely.
And then…
