“I can assault him very politely.”
Ant smiled as he shook his head. His hands slid up from Viktor’s chest to cup his face, thumbs brushing along Viktor’s jaw. “I appreciate your protective instincts. But I need you to trust that I can handle this.”
“I trust you.” Viktor caught one of Ant’s hands and pressed a kiss to his palm. “It’s everyone else I don’t trust, remember?”
“That’s fair.” Ant leaned up and kissed him - an action that was far too brief, and far too sweet given their conversation. “Now, come look at these photographs. I want your impression of the crime scene before we arrive.”
He extracted himself from Viktor’s grip and returned to the table, settling back into his chair with Able’s head immediatelyappearing on his knee. Viktor stood there for a moment longer, trying to reconcile himself to the idea of taking his mate into Claudius’s territory.This is going to be a fucking disaster.
But Ant was determined that he was right, and he would also feel a deep sense of responsibility to the victim. That was who Ant was. As for Viktor, he’d be damned if he let Ant walk into danger without him.
He crossed to the table and picked up the breakfast bag he’d set down earlier, pulling out the sandwiches he’d bought. Ant accepted his with a murmur of thanks, took a bite of it, and then immediately returned his attention to the crime scene photos.
Viktor studied the images over Ant’s shoulder. The victim appeared to be a male in his late forties, dressed in business casual clothes. He’d collapsed in what looked like a guest room, his body positioned over a desk covered in financial documents. The pen was still clutched in his hand.
“No signs of struggle,” Viktor observed. “No defensive wounds, no torn clothing. He just…dropped.”
“Yes.” Ant tapped one of the photos. “Which suggests he was either caught completely by surprise, or he didn’t perceive his attacker as a threat. Given that he was found in Claudius’s house, I’m inclined to believe he was under the influence of a vampiric trance or thrall, I believe it’s commonly known as.”
Viktor’s jaw tightened. Vampiric trances were illegal outside of very specific circumstances - using them to control humans for financial gain was a Justiciary-level crime. If Claudius had been using trances to manipulate wealthy humans into signing over their fortunes, for example...Surely, he’s still not doing that. That was centuries ago.
“That could explain why the coven is stonewalling,” Viktor said slowly. “If Ronald was under a trance when he died, it meansClaudius has been breaking Justiciary law for who knows how long.”
“Precisely.” Ant set down his sandwich and pulled over a document from the file. “According to the initial investigation, Ronald Finch was a forensic accountant hired by a group of wealthy human families who suspected their relatives were being financially exploited. He’d been tracking suspicious shell corporations and money transfers for months.”
“And he traced it back to Claudius.”
“So it would seem.” Ant’s finger traced down the document. “Three days before his death, Ronald sent an encrypted message to his clients stating he’d identified the primary suspect and would have proof within the week. Then he, apparently, disappeared. His body was found two days later when one of Claudius’s human staff members went in to clean the guest room.”
Viktor leaned back against the counter, his mind working through the implications. “Claudius killed him to cover up the financial crimes. Or had one of his coven members do it.”
“That’s the most logical explanation.” Ant looked up at him. “Which means when we arrive tomorrow, we’ll be investigating a murderer in his own fortress, surrounded by his loyal followers, all of whom have a vested interest in ensuring we find nothing incriminating.”
“You say that like it’s supposed to make me feel better about this.”
“I’m simply stating the facts.” Ant returned his attention to the photographs. “I find it helps to have a clear understanding of the situation before walking into it.”
Viktor watched his mate calmly analyze crime scene photos while eating his sandwich, and felt a surge of fierce protectiveness so strong it made his fangs ache.
Tomorrow I’m taking my brilliant, fearless, completely insane mate into the home of a vampire who views humans as food and mages as fools.
He was definitely going to end up turning Claudius into a pretzel. At least, doing that to a vampire meant the asshole wouldn’t be dead - vampires could handle broken bones - but that didn’t make Viktor feel any better.
In the meantime, he moved closer to Ant and began pointing out details in the photographs that might be useful - the defensive ward sigils visible on the wall in the background, the particular style of furniture that indicated which wing of the estate the murder had occurred in, the small details that someone who’d once lived in a similar coven would recognize.
If they were walking into hell tomorrow, they’d at least walk in prepared.
Chapter Three
Ant folded his third button-down shirt, a blue one, the way Bridget had taught him to the first time she’d seen him pack to go to University. The creases had to line up with each other, just so, and then the whole thing was folded in half…after the sleeves had been tucked in so they weren’t just dangling in his bag. Certain that the blue shirt would meet Bridget’s standards, Ant placed it in the overnight bag on his bed.
The shirts were unusual enough on their own. He didn’t usually bother with anything more than a couple of T-shirts and a spare pair of jeans, but Bridget had been very insistent that he pack professional attire. In Ant’s head, if a vampire was going to consider him food, they were hardly going to be concerned with his clothing choices – clothes would just get in the way of fangs, as he’d learned from Viktor - but Ant had also learned over the years that following Bridget’s wardrobe advice was generally a good idea.
Speaking of vampires, Viktor prowled past the bedroom doorway for the fourth time in as many minutes, his footsteps silent although Ant was sure he was wearing a track in the carpet. Each pass took him from the stairs to the far end of the hallway and back again.
Ant selected a white dress shirt from his closet and began the folding process again. “You’re pacing.”
“I’m thinking.” Viktor appeared in the doorway, taking in Ant’s movements.
