Hollywood Dead: Elisabeth Hicks, Witch Detective Read online

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “I’m going with no. We talk about things, remember?”

  He didn’t smile, but the nod seemed more natural—more Ted. My family was good at not talking about things, about ignoring anything that was difficult. My boyfriend didn’t agree with that. It’d been a struggle learning to open up about the hard stuff, talking about things instead of just pushing them away, but he’d gotten through to me. Now it was my turn to get through to him.

  “May I?” the vampire interrupted our private conversation, his hand on the photos.

  “Go ahead. Not much to see. Whoever they are, they work like they’re enjoying it.”

  “Is that a bad thing? Enjoying it?” I swallowed hard. Enjoying torture sounded like a bad thing to me but both of them seemed pretty indifferent.

  Edward answered, his voice still flat. “If you enjoy it, you’re worried more about having fun than about getting to your goal.”

  “Makes sense.” In a sick and twisted way, I added in my head. “So, uh, about this?” I gestured to the vampire who was now ignoring me completely as he studied the photos.

  “William, this is Elisabeth, but she’s Army, so she tends to go by Hicks when she’s working.”

  “Like Alina?” His voice made it a question but he didn’t bother looking up from the photos.

  “No, not like Alina.” Edward was deliberately clear. “You can trust her.”

  “But she won’t trust me.”

  I was tired of being talked about like I wasn’t in the room. “I don’t trust vampires, sorry. Survivors’ thing and all that.” I pushed up my sleeve to show him my arm.

  He leaned back in the chair, slightly perplexed. “Just the arm?”

  “My right thigh, too. Muscle not blood. It didn’t make any sense.”

  “He was newly turned. Your arm was a mistake. Your leg held the femoral artery. In those first moments, we are monsters.”

  I was pretty sure they were monsters all the time but I kept my mouth shut about it.

  “I’ll follow him to his hotel—try to get more when he calls in.” William shoved the photos back in to the envelope, changing the subject but not being polite about it. Either he expected me to keep up or he didn’t care. “There’s nothing new for me here.”

  “But there is for me.” I held out my hand but he just looked at me. He kept his grip tight on the envelope and turned to Edward.

  “I told you, not like Alina. You can trust her.”

  William handed it over and I looked.

  I’d seen the people OPS “processed” before, stacked the bodies and cleaned up the blood. The Army was good at helping OPS in that way. It didn’t prepare me for the photos, the way the clean light of the flash had captured details my memory blocked out. There were six bodies, barely recognizable as human. Cuts, crisscrossed burns. Body parts were missing or hung at angles that weren’t natural.

  “What makes these?” I wondered out loud as I studied a set of perfect circle holes along one of the legs.

  “Electric drill,” William supplied, before announcing he should go.

  He left and Edward locked the door behind him. I hastily stuffed the photos back inside the envelope. They weren’t the most important thing here.

  “So bedroom or couch?” I asked, my voice filled with fake cheerfulness.

  Edward looked at me, a touch confused. I could tell from his mannerisms, the way his hands didn’t move, that he was still Edward and not back to being Ted yet. As much as I loved that friendly, open side of him, I didn’t mind this side—not while we talked about torture and the war.

  “You really want to talk about this?”

  “That’s the rule, right? We talk about things, even things I don’t want to talk about…I figure when it’s things you don’t want to talk about the rule works the same way.”

  “Fair enough. Where do I start?” He walked into the living room and sat on the couch. Normally, he would have leaned back, let me sit between his legs, my back tucked into his chest; tonight, he sat stiffly, another difference between when he worked and when he relaxed. I wondered briefly how I changed when I held a gun. I’d ask him another time.

  “How can you be positive it isn’t your kid?” Sure, there was a crazed murderer on the loose, and yeah, he might be coming after my boyfriend, but let’s start with the hard stuff.

  “Alina and I didn’t have vaginal sex that often.”

  “Huh.” I tried to make it a statement not a question. I’d been in bed with him long enough to know his preferences and that didn’t sound like him. “That often?”

  “A handful of times.” He shrugged like it wasn’t important.

  “Whose choice was that?” He’d told me a little bit about Alina, the refugee who had been forced into prostitution once. Maybe she felt she hadn’t gotten a choice in bed, or she did what men wanted.

  “Hers.” He looked at me, a glint of his normal self coming through. “I wouldn’t force a woman into doing anything she didn’t want to do.”

  “I know you wouldn’t,” I agreed. When it came to sex, my boyfriend was woman-centric. He wouldn’t even consider half the things that women found demeaning and normal guys thought were great fun. “So the kid thing…”

  “Standard practice. Pick something the subject can’t be sure of, use it to try and gain their trust. Even if they don’t really believe you, sometimes planting the seed is enough.”

  “Okay,” I took a deep breath. “Tell me about the rest of it.”

  I kicked off my shoes and stretched my feet out on the couch. The bare skin of my toes wormed under his thigh, something I did when we watched movies and my feet got cold. My feet weren’t cold this time, but I wanted the contact so I could read him better.

  “I told you how my team left OPS—Brian cast the spell that killed him and made the rest of them insane.” He said it casually, using that even, level voice. The pictures I got from his head were anything but. It was all there: the magic circle drawn in blood, his friend bleeding to death with runes carved into his arms, the way the magic tossed the furniture in the room around, leaving only Edward and the vampire I’d just met, alone in the circle trying to stop the bleeding, untouched. And then, that last image, the one that scared me most of all—Brian, his eyes wide with the magic, whispering, “Time to wake up, Edward.”

  My throat tightened around the borrowed memory of fast-moving magic filled with dark intent. Was it circling back toward us, about to finish some terrible curse? Or had the magic exhausted itself before it got to the man I loved? “Tell me about the other team, you didn’t mention them.”

  “I don’t like to think about them.” He rubbed his palms along his thighs. “They weren’t good people. We all did what had to be done but that team took it too far. Watching them work, the way they acted afterward was why Brian lost faith, why he went to sleep one of the good guys and woke up convinced he was a bad guy.” He shook his head, his eyes unfocused. “If you asked the agent who just left, he would say my team was pretty average and the other team was one of the best.”

  “Which means they were the worst.”

  He raised his eyebrows a quarter of an inch, then let them drop. “Whatever magic Brian did, it hit them harder and now, they’re dead.”

  “All of them? I mean, in the pictures, there were only six people, right?”

  “Six out of ten. They didn’t mention the others. They must have found something that linked the crimes to my team. I don’t know what it was but I’ll bet it was left behind deliberately. William got to Melissa about two hours too late. She looked like a suicide. If they hadn’t found something, they wouldn’t have linked the crimes.”

  “Melissa?”

  “Another one on my team. She was in a state care facility.” The spell Brian cast all those years ago had made the members of Edward’s team see their victims—bloody animated corpses coming at them all day, every day. It had driven them insane. We’d talked about it, but that was different
from sharing what was in his head, seeing the light green-painted concrete walls of the institution, hearing the dark-haired woman wail as she told him what she saw. I shivered and he pulled his legs back.

  “You shouldn’t see that,” he said with a familiar smile; and like someone had flipped a switch I was back to talking with Ted, the friendly, day spa owner, who kept his house just a little too clean and didn’t correct people who thought he was gay.

  “Fair enough. And William?”

  “There’s safety in numbers. If he’s here, he can watch my back. During the day, I’ve got his.”

  “He’s moving in?” I tried to make my displeasure known through my voice.

  “He’s staying for a while,” Ted offered.

  “You sure about that?”

  “Positive. It’s not negotiable.”

  “Not at all?”

  “No.” And I could tell by the way he said it that he didn’t want to talk anymore.

  “I guess we’re done covering this?” I asked.

  “I hope so, because there isn’t much else to say. Someone’s coming for me or maybe not, but since they aren’t at the front door, I have other things on my mind.”

  “Like what?” I asked, knowing full well he was giving off a lustful vibe.

  “Like I’m betting you won’t get into bed with me when William’s in earshot.”

  “Damn straight, I won’t.” I didn’t trust most vampires to be in the same room with me, let alone in the same house when I was distracted like that.

  “Then I’ve got to work pretty fast here.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t worry, not too fast.” He laughed. “I promise to be the perfect gentleman.”

  Were we really done talking about things? I wasn’t sure, but I followed him into his bedroom anyway. A wave of calm washed over me as I stepped inside. With its palette of black and white, green plants and red wood, the room embodied balance and serenity. Except for a Ying-Yang symbol, the walls were bare, and once the door shut, the only noise was the gentle bubble of the small fountain in the corner. The bamboo that sprouted out of the water couldn’t have produced enough oxygen to make a difference but I always took a deep breath, drawing in the peaceful nature of the room.

  “I love it when you do that,” Ted whispered from behind me. The lock clicked, leaving us safely inside.

  “Do what?”

  “Pause, stop for a second.” He moved, hugging me from behind. His touch brought a magical connection between us. I avoided touching people when I could, or touched them only to find out some important tidbit. When he touched me, though, I let myself go. I wallowed in the feelings his skin brought to me. Lust, love, desire, caring, a catalog of all the good emotions ran through my mind as his hands lingered on the skin exposed at my stomach. “Sometimes you treat this room like a sanctuary.”

  I turned toward him, searching his dark brown eyes. “Isn’t that what it is?”

  “That’s what it was meant to be. I made this room hoping I’d find someone like you.” He kissed me, his hand gently holding my face. “You said something last night.”

  I expected him to go on, to keep kissing me, our bodies close, our eyes almost level, but he stopped.

  “I meant it. I love you.” I whispered the words, not sure why. Something he was feeling, maybe—something that made this a solemn occasion to him.

  He pulled me even closer, pressing us together. “I love you, too.”

  Another long searching kiss and now his hands moved to the bottom of my shirt. He pulled it over my head, fingers trailing along my skin, his kisses barely interrupted. He took me over to the bed, gently urging me to lie down while he folded my shirt. When he finished, he joined me on the bed, close to me, his head resting on my chest. “I haven’t heard someone say that in a really long time.”

  “It doesn’t worry you?” This felt different, special. The first time after we said I-love-yous out loud deserved to be special, but laying there in jeans and a bra, I was ready to move on the more active part of things.

  “It’s great. It’s amazing.” He smiled broadly up at me. “I just want to, I don’t know, prove how much I love you back.”

  His smile changed to a grin and I knew the parts I wanted were coming. He turned back to my body and began kissing. His mouth trailed between my breasts, ignoring the fabric of my bra. His warm kisses moved down my belly. He knelt above me, one knee on either side of my hips. He popped open the button to my jeans, kissing the skin there, his mouth open, his tongue moving over me in lazy circles. He paused, a second maybe two on that spot, and then went lower still, unzipping my pants too slowly, taking too long. I squirmed, wanting his mouth lower, wanting what he was thinking about.

  He grinned at me, and shimmied my jeans down my hips, tugging the fabric with one hand, letting his other hand caress the skin he had just bared. His hands were deliciously soft. He knew every inch of the female body and spent his days using those hands to make people feel good.

  I hadn’t thought about the underwear I’d put on in the morning. The cream-colored lace bra and matching panties had been what was clean. When he looked at them, they seemed more important than that. He leaned down, kissing me, gently touching my breast, rubbing the nipple to hardness underneath the fabric. He lingered, his lips sweet on mine, his hand exciting me, the connection between us showing me all the things that were to come. His hands slipped the bra straps down to my shoulders, touching them gently.

  “You are so beautiful, Elisabeth.”

  I moved my left arm behind me without thinking, always a little embarrassed by the fake tissue there.

  “No, all of you,” he said gently. He slid his hands to my elbows, dropping the bra off my skin. His mouth caught the tip of my nipple, freeing it from the fabric before, tracing its lines with his lips and tongue.

  While he caressed my chest, his hand dropped lower, stroking the dip low on my belly, tickling and teasing while I moaned, wanting more. He caught my sighs and moans but he teased, skipping the middle part of me, the part I wanted him to pay attention to, and instead moved to my thighs. He hooked his fingers under the lace fabric, gently taking the underwear off my body. When I was bare in front of him, he moved me to the edge of the bed. I sat there, naked, while he stood beside me.

  “So beautiful.” He opened my legs, pulling them apart so he could kneel between them. “I love you, Elisabeth.”

  Wide open-mouthed kisses started at my belly button, leaving a trail of heat as he moved down my body until finally, finally his mouth covered me. His tongue gently pressed at my clit, massaging, making me moan. His palm slid down my thigh, coming up to let him stroke the outside of my sex. I begged him for more, screamed please and hoped he would know I wanted him inside of me. Some part of him, any part of him, I didn’t care. As his tongue lashed at my clit, all I could was want him.

  My body tightened, the pleasure building between my legs. I screamed with it, a long primal sound he took as permission. He tenderly dipped his finger inside me, curling it back to find a spot that drove me insane. The twin touches, one outside my body, one inside, overwhelmed me. My hips lifted off the bed while I arched hungry for him.

  I screamed. I begged for more and he complied. His mouth locked on me, his tongue pounding. Time stopped. There was nothing but that pleasure, that enormous intense sensation until I screamed and my body tightened around him in orgasm.

  Falling back to the bed, gulping air, I was surprised I had been sitting. Between my legs his mouth moved, kissing and licking. The touches stopped, and I opened my eyes to find him neatly adding his folded clothes to the stack over mine.

  “Would you get over here?” I asked with mock exasperation.

  “Waiting makes it last longer,” he teased, reaching into the bedside table. He climbed into bed, holding me close, condom on, ready, but then he stopped and waited a second more.

  “I love you.” He looked deep into my eyes.

  “I love you, too.” The pow
er of the moment struck me, but as I kissed him, the passion we shared took over again.

  He pulled me closer in a great bear hug, our naked bodies pressed together. I opened my legs, shifting beneath him to slide his body into mine. The fullness of him within me, touching me in so many places, and his thoughts, the way he loved me, wanted me, wanted to make this pleasure last, swirled in my mind, making me delirious with pleasure. Magic let me feel his need, his eagerness for release.

  He pressed into me, hungry, needing more and I gave it, driving myself onto him desperately. Whatever else happened with the world, my problems or his, we had this and I wanted all of it. His shaft filled me in a thousand ways and I reached around his waist, pulling him even deeper, screaming his name. He caught my mouth, drowning me with kisses.

  He clutched my shoulders, and my name escaped from his lips in a strangled cry. His back, his ass, every muscle on his body tightened, and warmth flooded between my legs as his pleasure peaked. He collapsed, his head falling beside me for a second, his breathing loud in my ear. We broke apart, both gasping. I turned my head to the side, where I saw a neatly folded stack of our clothes on the bedside table. The time for desperate passion over.

  “Am I ever going to break you of that habit?” I teased with a laugh.

  “Maybe.” He grinned. “You’ll just have to keep seducing me to find out.”

  My laughter only got louder. I grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and hit him gently with it, then played innocent. “Oh, did I hit you? Just trying to get comfortable.”

  “Yeah, sure,” he teased back. “Is it safe to touch that beautiful backside of yours?”

  I laughed but didn’t object. As I rested, his hand slowly stroking down my back and even lower, thoughts of the pleasure we’d given each other drifted through his mind.

  “Is this why you stopped by?”

  I thought about hitting him with a pillow again but since he had just made me feel amazing, and I had no strength left in my arms, I decided against it. “Nope.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Some prick called me and threatened Jo. I freaked out but she’s fine.”