Page 62 of Venomous Games

“He’s not here. He had a work emergency,” I tell him. “I’m going out, did you want to stay or⁠—”

“I’ll stay,” he says, then lays his head back and closes his eyes again.

After I get ready, I take a second to check on Victor. He’s still asleep, his head bent at what looks like an uncomfortable angle.

He’ll probably wake up with a stiff neck.

But whatever, that’s not my problem.

THIRTY-FOUR

BOSTON

Rolland called to let me know that more information has come to light regarding Marcus’s death. I’ve met him at the precinct to find out exactly what’s been found.

He clicks a few buttons on the computer, bringing up a photograph of Marcus’s burned house. He proceeds to tell me that while investigating, they found bones buried underneath the house. But the thing is, these bones don’t appear to be old. That means this investigation just got deeper than intended.

I’m hoping I covered Maven’s and my tracks well enough. I’m pretty sure I did, though, considering I know exactly what a detective looks for. But you can never be too certain in cases like this, because not only was Marcus a powerful man, but it seems he held skeletons in his closet that he wasn’t telling anyone about. Least of all the Forsaken.

Rolland is called away, and I sit at my desk and send Maven a message to let her know I left. Then I call Soren. He picks up after only one ring, and I can hear Cressida’s son in the background.

“Boston, I’ve been trying to reach you. Why did you wait so long to get back to me?”

“I was busy,” I tell him. “My wife moved in.”

“And how are things going with Maven?”

“Yes. It’s going well.”

“Good. You needed to be married to set a positive example for everyone since we’ve had so many think they can do as they please.”

I lean back in my chair. “Is this not a good time to talk?”

“Talk, but make it fast. I’ll call you back later with what I want to discuss with you.”

“The investigation into Marcus’s murder has brought some unexpected issues to light. I expect the information will be hitting every news outlet soon.”

“What did they find?” he asks.

“Bodies.”

“Fuck!” he shouts.

“Bad word. Swear jar,” Cressida’s son says to him.

He must place his hand over the phone, because his next words are muffled, and I know he’s not talking to me. I wait a few minutes before his voice comes back through clearly.

“I knew he was up to no good. That piece of fucking shit,” he growls. “Get a handle on it if you can. Tell me the second you find out whose bones they are.”

“Will do.”

He hangs up, and I bring up the feed to my home security cameras.

The camera at my front door shows Victor standing there speaking with a sleepy-looking Maven. She eventually lets him in, but a short time after, she leaves.

I press call on her contact. “Yes, Detective?” she purrs from the other end.

“Where are you?”