Deathtrap (Crossbreed Series Book 3)(12)

I pointed at the fork. He timidly leaned forward and handed it to me.

When I sat back up in my chair, Patrick was pouring himself a second glass.

“Aye,” he said. “I have a few bottles of Chartreuse left over that I bought a century ago, but it’s a shame I couldn’t preserve any of the ale. Nobody makes it like the monks. Are you a beer drinker, Miss Black?”

“Not really. It’s okay, but if I’m going to drink, I usually want something strong.”

“How’s the wine?”

I lifted the glass. “Delightful.”

No sense in offending our host with the truth that his wine was so bitter that I had to bite my tongue to keep from making a face.

“Perhaps next time I’ll break out the Chartreuse.”

My eyes widened in horror when Shepherd lifted his spoon from the bowl and there was a whole turtle on it. He locked eyes with me for a moment before he put it back and continued eating the soup around it.

There were a lot of things I’d do in life, but eating tiny turtles wasn’t one of them.

“Is something the matter?” Patrick inquired.

My stomach churned as I stared down at my bowl, knowing what lurked beneath.

Shepherd chuckled. “She’s suffering from reptile dysfunction.”

Patrick snapped his fingers, and on command, his servant appeared. “Bring her another plate of the sandwiches.”

“Yes, sir.”

And just like that, my turtle nightmare went away. I reached for one of the cheese trays between Shepherd and me and filled up a small plate.

“This work hasn’t been kind to you,” Patrick said, nodding at the scars on Shepherd’s hands.

Shepherd continued slurping on his soup. “I handle the job just fine.”

I placed a cube of cheese on my leg, and seconds later, I felt a little hand grab it away. It put a smile on my face, and I must have made a sound.

“What amuses you, Miss Black?”

“I just had a tickle in my throat.”

My smile quickly waned when I saw the turtle shell appear again in Shepherd’s bowl.

“Mr. Moon, would you mind if we had a private conversation after dinner? I wasn’t expecting a guest, and I wanted to give you some private words of gratitude.”

I looked between them. “That’s fine. I can wait in the foyer.”

When I pushed my chair back, Patrick stretched out his arm and placed his hand on the table.

“We’ve still got three more courses to go.”

I felt myself turning green. “Oh, that’s… perfect.”

Shepherd coughed and laughed at the same time. My napkin fell to the floor, and when I bent down to pick it up, I saw the little boy had fallen asleep, his hand resting on the toe of Shepherd’s boot.

The kid had the right idea. That was exactly where I would rather have been instead of stressing out about which fork to use.

I should have been the one to go to the club. Now I was stuck in the middle of a culinary nightmare that was probably karma getting revenge for what I’d done to Wyatt this morning. It made me wonder what Gem and Claude were doing.

Probably dancing and making a toast after solving the case.



Gem glanced at herself in an oval mirror as she and Claude entered the lust room at Club Nine. She was feeling radiant, her purple trumpet skirt set off by her black shirt and stockings. The spotlights above caught her hair, and she briefly admired it before moving on. Claude didn’t like a uniform dye job, so there were darker shades of lavender mixed in with a gradual fade to silver at the ends. Because she usually wore it parted off-center, the overlapping colors made it luscious to look at. He hadn’t taken up the length any, so her wavy locks were just where she liked them—a smidge past her shoulders. She absolutely adored Claude for all he did to make her stylish. And yet here she was, looking and feeling gorgeous, and not one man in the club had offered to buy her a soda.

Maybe it had something to do with the six-and-a-half-foot Chitah at her side.

Two men had showed interest, but they were drunk. Gem didn’t drink, and a drunken man was about as attractive as a serial killer. She could have flared her energy like she was supposed to in a public place, drawing attention to herself, but all that did was attract the wrong kind of men.

She and Claude had already questioned the bartender, who seemed like a nice guy. Hooper remembered the victim, Jennifer Moore, and said she’d quit working there a little over a year ago. He confirmed she was a Sensor who used to spike the specialty drinks. The manager had found out she was pregnant when she’d put too much violence in someone’s drink and a customer almost died. They hadn’t seen her in there since.

Gem and Claude were certain that some of the regulars might remember her, so Claude went to work, questioning the ones Hooper had pointed out. Gem knew the right things to ask, and Claude could smell a lie, so together they made a great team.

But after three hours, she began to lose hope that anything would come of this assignment. It was so frustrating to work on a case that led to a dead end, but it happened. That was why they kept meticulous records, just in case something ever looped back around to a previous investigation. They usually received an advance payment they would keep regardless of the outcome. Viktor was choosy with his assignments and made sure he didn’t take on too many that he didn’t feel they could solve. At the end of the day, Viktor wanted to make sure his team was financially secure.

Gem enjoyed spending her money on clothing and decorations to brighten her room. The rest stayed in savings. As a Mage, she would live a long time, so Viktor had advised her to save as much as she could. Gem valued the sense of belonging and doing something positive with her gifts far more than money. Born a Relic, she possessed a natural ability to understand foreign and archaic languages. It would be a waste to squander that knowledge, so Viktor allowed her to work special assignments in her private chamber. He entrusted her with secrets, and even though he could be a bit of a stiff sometimes, no one else in the house made her feel as valued for her contributions. That wasn’t a feeling she’d ever known before—not even with her Creator, who was wonderful but focused heavily on refining Gem’s Mage gifts more than her Relic knowledge.

The lust room was exactly as she’d imagined. Sexy red furniture, black tables, candlelight, and stone walls. You could still hear the techno music throughout the building, but it wasn’t so loud that you had to scream to hold a conversation.

Claude homed in on two men hanging out in a corner and casually strode over to make conversation.

Frankly, Gem was bored with making conversation.

She plopped down in an empty chair and peeled off her long evening gloves.

“Can I get you something?” a waitress asked.

The server’s brown skin carried a glow so beautiful that Gem’s arms looked porcelain in comparison. All the staff wore black shorts, but their shirts were always the color of the room they worked in.

Gem glanced down and guessed the woman’s high heels were probably pinching her toes. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute? Those look like killer shoes.”

The sassy waitress jutted her hip. “I’ve got to earn my tips.”

Gem waved her to sit. “I’ll tip extra. I wanted to ask you something about a friend of mine you might know.”

The waitress arched a narrow brow and looked around. The moment she sat in the chair in front of Gem, her entire body sagged in relief. “We only have two girls to a room, so just for a minute. Who’s your friend?”

Gem took out a picture of Jennifer that Wyatt had found when searching for her alias information. Most everyone had a fake driver’s license. She had to be careful how to approach this. People didn’t like dealing with the law or anyone affiliated with investigations, and telling the waitress that Jennifer was dead would rouse suspicion.

“Hooper said she worked here about a year ago.”

“Yeah, I remember Jenny. That was back when I first started working here. She was the top spiker. It was hard finding a replacement. Did she have the baby?”

“I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks, so I’m worried,” Gem began, tugging on the edge of her skirt. “I thought maybe she went back with her ex. Do you know where I could find him?”

The waitress slowly shook her head. “I don’t know who she was seeing. We weren’t close or anything.”

“I just got back in town, so I’ve been searching everywhere. Anything you can remember would be helpful. I’ve been worried about the baby; it’s not like Jenny to lose touch.”

“I don’t think anyone here kept in contact with her.”

“My name’s Gem Laroux,” she said, hoping that would put the waitress at ease.

“Latasha Threadgood.” She flashed a bright smile and leaned against the armrest. “What did she have?”

Gem felt a flutter of panic but played it smooth. Since Latasha wasn’t a Chitah, she wouldn’t know a lie from the truth. “A boy. I don’t know much else. She wrote me an email and invited me to come see her so we could catch up, but then I found out she moved and isn’t working here anymore. That’s why I thought she went back with her ex. You know how a baby can change people. I’m sure it’s not easy being a single mom and trying to hold down a job, especially when it’s next to impossible to find nannies.”