She returned his smile, though she couldn't get rid of the worry niggling at the back of her mind. He was lost and alone and resisting her attempts to make him part of her life again. If she pushed too hard she might lose him again. On impulse, she hugged him and quickly released his thin but firm body. Anyone who made the mistake of thinking he'd be physically weak might make the last mistake of their lives. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and tried to ignore the sour-milk scent of his sullen discontent. "I'll see you later, all right? We'll have dinner together. Think about what you'd like, and I'll stop by the grocery store on my way home." She searched his eyes, looking for a sign, any sign, of what he might be thinking, what he was feeling. "We'll talk. Catch updaylk. Cat some more."
"Yeah. Sure." He gave another smile, though this one was definitely forced. With a nod he left the room, pulling the door closed behind him.
Tori grabbed the device and schematics from beneath her pillow. She slipped the folded paper into the pocket of a fleece jacket she hardly ever wore and tucked the device into the toe of one of her boots. The jeans she shimmied into were formfitting, and the blouse was frothy in various shades of turquoise. Her women's athletic shoes were serviceable with bright purple along the edge of the sole. Being a werewolf was so much a part of what she was, she needed to find ways to feel like a woman. To be feminine. To be more than the beast. Purple shoes and filmy blouses helped.
She brushed her still-damp hair and braided it, then slipped her brush into the fanny pack she usually wore instead of carrying a purse. After shrugging into her shoulder holster, she retrieved her Magnum from the gun safe. It was a requirement of the council that all liaisons, in essence law enforcement officers for preternaturals, had to carry guns. Tori didn't usually mind, but sometimes the gun was the least favorite part of her job. While it often made her feel sexy, it rarely made her feel feminine.
Besides, when it came to defending herself or running down a suspect, all she really needed were her claws and fangs.
Chapter Two
Tori parked her Mini behind a Scottsdale squad car and hopped out. She gave a nod to one of the uniforms standing at the perimeter of the scene, keeping the crowd at bay. Several squad cars with lights flashing marked the area of the grocery store parking lot where the action was taking place.
As she approached the police van near the group of black-and-whites, the acrid scent of drying blood wafted to her. Quickly, she scanned the scene, seeing patches of blood on the pavement and a lump of bloody material lying near the entrance to the store. Never far from her thoughts, she wondered if Dante had arrived yet, and she glanced around again, this time to suss out something, someone, entirely different. Her stomach bottomed with disappointment when she didn't see him. Maybe because there wasn't a human fatality he wouldn't be dispatched. It's not like he covered all the cases. There were several members of the Special Case squad that could be sent to work an active crime scene, but the extent of their involvement, if at all, depended on whether humans were embroiled in the action. If Dante had too much on his plate, another detective would be sent here. At that thought, her disappointment grew.
She blew out a breath and put her attention on the police van. A man sat in the back, huddled in a blanket, his hands clutching the edges in front of him to cover his nudity. Since he was naked, she had to assume he'd tangled with the vampire in his werewolf form. She grimaced. That was easier to picture than him just cavorting around in the buff. "Well, there's the werewolf," she murmured to herself. "Where's the vampire?"
Glancing around, she spotted him off to one side, a couple of uniformed officers standing beside him. Their hands rested on the butts of their weapons; their eyes shifted from one another to the vampire. Tori made a mental note to keep the van between her and them in case those itchy trigger fingers weren't held in check. The vampire liaison, Aldis Knox, was already there, taking the vamp's statement. She lifted a hand in greeting and stopped next to another uniformed officer. "What's the status of the human?" she asked the young cop.
"EMTs took him over to County."
If he was taken to the hospital, it meant he'd probably gotten in the way of somebodyewolass
"Looks like." The officer gave a quick shrug. "They weren't sure which of the EDs did it, so they'll keep him in the secure wing until they know whether or not he's going to turn."
"We prefer to be called preternaturals. Or prets if it's easier." Tori held his gaze.
A slight flush darkened his cheeks. "Sorry?"
She couldn't tell if his confusion was genuine or put on. "You called them"-she gestured toward the werewolf and the vampire with a swoop of one arm-"EDs. Extra-dimensionals. Most of us prefer to be called preternaturals," she repeated, just in case he was missing her point.
"Oh." He stared at her for a few seconds, then offered a muttered apology. "I didn't know."
"No problem," she responded easily. "Now you do." She glanced around the scene again, unable to keep from searching for Dante. She didn't see tall and sexy anywhere. "Has Detective MacMillan arrived yet?"
"No, ma'am."
She gave a brief nod and, as she started to move off, the officer said, "Ah, ma'am?"
Tori stopped and looked back at him.
"How does that work, exactly? Turning someone, I mean." He gave a sheepish smile. "They explained it to us in the academy, but I didn't really understand it."
She was glad to educate him, figuring the more informed humans were the less they might let their imaginations overtake them. "The pret releases a little bit of their essence-a piece of their soul, if you will-into the victim's blood. For a vampire, the timing is critical. It has to happen right before the person dies." She remembered the first time she'd seen someone "come back" after being bitten by a vampire. The poor thing hadn't been expecting it, and it had taken all of Knox's considerable strength to hold the woman down while he explained what had happened. Only the sound of Tori's voice had finally calmed the new vampire enough so that she could actually hear what Knox was telling her. Tori looked at the officer. "A shapeshifter can do it at any point during the attack. And the victim doesn't necessarily die. But at the next full moon they will transform."
"Okay." He glanced over his shoulder at the vampire. He seemed much more nervous of the vamp than the shapeshifter.
Tori decided to disabuse him of any illusions he might have that werewolves weren't a threat. He'd live longer if he learned this lesson now instead of while being maimed by teeth and claws. She leaned in and let the wolf come to life in her eyes, just a little. "We're all just as dangerous, officer."
His face paled and he jerked back a couple of steps. "Right. Yeah."
She'd meant to get her point across, not scare the crap out of him. She sighed and held up a hand. "Look, I'm sorry. That was a little heavy-handed." She put some space between them and heard his breathing even out. "Just … don't underestimate any pret, okay? You'll live a lot longer," she added in a dry tone.
"Right." He swallowed and then dipped his chin. "Thanks."
Tori nodded and walked over to the werewolf in the blanket, unzipping her portfolio as she went. She drew a breath and frowned as she stopped at the back of the van. "Barry," she greeted the werewolf in a calm voice. She'd discovered over the years that having such a melodious tone was at odds with her being a wolf, and it kept people off guard long enough for her to worm out more information than she might otherwise ordinarily get. She drew out her pen and jotted down the date and location on the incident report form.
"Ms. Joseph." He briefly met her gaze and then ducked his head. She hadn't thought it possuplught itible but his shoulders hunched even more. A definite odor of tequila and rum poured off him, though it lessened with each passing second. The smoky mixture of chagrin and irritation only grew.
"You want to tell me what happened here?" she asked.
"Not really." At her sharp look, he cowered as if expecting a blow. When one didn't come, he lifted his head slightly and looked up at her. Well, looked in her general direction, because he didn't make eye contact.
"Barry," she said. "I'm not part of your pack." She wasn't part of anyone's pack, not really, unless you counted the other werewolf liaisons in the region. "I'm not going to hold you to your Omega status, okay?" It was obvious to her from his subservient demeanor that he was the lowest ranking member of his pack, one that treated him roughly, if his cowering was anything to go by.
His eyes darted to hers but he didn't say anything.
"Now, tell me what happened."
"He started it." His expression turning mutinous, Barry pointed at the vampire. "He called me a mutt." His words came out a little slurred, but she knew any intoxication he currently suffered would soon dissipate. The incredible metabolism of a werewolf made it impossible to maintain a drunken stupor for long.