When Ant slid under the covers, Viktor immediately pulled him close, arranging them so Ant’s back pressed against Viktor’s chest, their legs tangled together. One of Viktor’s arms wrapped around Ant’s waist, his hand splayed possessively over his stomach. Ant loved how protective his mate was, Viktor’s solid presence surrounding him like a shield.
“Try to sleep,” Viktor murmured against Ant’s hair. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”
Ant closed his eyes, but sleep felt impossibly distant. His mind kept circling back to that connecting door, and to what waited beyond it. Ronald Finch’s last moments.
I’ll bear witness,Ant thought.I’ll see what happened to you, and I’ll make sure your killer is held accountable.
Viktor’s hand tightened slightly on his stomach. Focusing on his breathing exercises again, Ant tried to relax. Inhaling for four counts, feeling Viktor’s chest rise and fall against his back. Hold for four, aware of Able’s steady breathing across the room. Exhale for four, releasing tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying.
The estate’s ambient magic pressed against the windows like a living thing, but Ant focused on the temporary sanctuary with his mate and furry companion. For now, at least, he could pretend they were safe. Could pretend tomorrow wouldn’t be as difficult as he knew it would be. He trusted his gut feelings for a reason, and they were screaming at him.
“I can feel you thinking,” Viktor whispered.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just...I’ve got you. No matter what happens tomorrow, I’ve got you.”
“I know.” And Ant did know. That was the only certainty he could cling to. He knew that when the vision ended, and he returned to the present, Viktor would be there. Solid, protective, and absolutely lethal to anyone who threatened them.
Perhaps it’s just as well Claudius doesn’t understand the mating bond,Ant thought as he drifted off to sleep.He will have no idea what hits him if Viktor gets the idea I’m being attacked.
Chapter Ten
“Ready?”
Viktor studied Ant’s pale face in the pre-dawn light filtering through the curtains. His mate looked smaller than usual, wrapped in one of Viktor’s shirts and wearing dark jeans that emphasized how thin he was. Able stood close by Ant’s leg, ears forward and alert. Viktor had already taken Able out quickly to do his business as Ant got himself ready.
“No,” Viktor said bluntly. “But that’s not going to stop you, so let’s get this done.”
He’d positioned himself at the connecting door, giving himself time to prepare. Viktor was a creature of instincts, and his instincts about the case had been off from the start. There was just something - something Viktor struggled to explain to his mate - about how Ant investigating another vampire felt so wrong to him.
Not because Viktor didn’t believe Claudius was guilty, because as far as he was concerned, the arrogant bastard definitely was. But for Ant to witness what his kind was capable of made Viktor uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t put into words. And that was all without his personal connection to Claudius.
We’ve just got to get this over and done with.The key turned smoothly in the lock. Viktor expected resistance - a magical ward or protection of some kind. But the door simply swung open on silent hinges.
The smell hit him first. Not blood. There was no blood, which was wrong on a visceral level that made his fangs ache. A vampire had fed here, drained a human completely, and the lack of a metallic tang in the air felt like an absence, as if someone had stolen the violence and left only the echo.
But the wrongness remained. Death was in the air, thick and cloying, mixed with fear so intense that Viktor’s vampire side stirred restlessly beneath his skin. The room had been the scene of a murder, and somehow those energies had soaked into the walls, floorboards, and furniture.
“Fuck,” Viktor muttered.
“I feel it, too.” Ant’s voice was steady. He stepped forward, but Viktor’s hand shot out to grip his shoulder.
“Wait.”
Ant paused, tilting his head in that way that meant he was listening. Actually listening, not just humoring Viktor’s protective instincts.
“Just...look first. Before you touch anything.”
If the energies could be ignored, the room itself was deceptively ordinary. Viktor realized he already recognized the room. It was another typical guest suite designed for human visitors, decorated in rich burgundies and dark wood, designed to impress. A four-poster bed sat against one wall, neatly made. The wardrobe stood closed. But it was the desk near the window that drew Viktor’s attention, and clearly Ant’s as well.
Papers were still scattered across the polished surface. Financial documents, from what Viktor could see. A laptop was on the desk, too, but it was closed, with its power cord dangling off the edge. And there, precisely where the body had been photographed, was a simple ballpoint pen that lay on the desk blotter. Ronald Finch had been working when he died. He had still been holding that pen when his killer struck.
The thought sent ice through Viktor’s veins. Someone had entered the room either with Finch’s permission or at least fast enough that Finch didn’t have time to move away, and that same someone had gotten close enough to strike.
“I’m surprised the police didn’t collect anything except the body. That’s not typically how a crime scene is processed. Even the pen,” Ant murmured, echoing Viktor’s thoughts. “He didn’t drop it until...”
“He was holding it in the crime scene photographs. It would’ve been dislodged when the body was moved by the authorities, most likely.” Viktor did his best to keep his voice on a par with Ant’s.
