The Darkest Kiss

"Could you also get a check done on a Ben Wilson? He's a black wolf who manages the Nonpareil stripper business. As far as I can see, he's the only real link between the two men."



"Will do."



"Thanks, boss." I hung up, then changed lanes and headed over to South Yarra and the address Jack had given me - which just happened to be in the heart of trendy Chapel Street.



Obviously, whoever was killing off these people had a taste for power and money. And perhaps a need for the high that exhibitionism could give. Which in itself would suggest some sort of were. While the danger of public sexual acts - and the high such risks gave - was not the sole province of weres, we weres were certainly willing to take it further than most races.



It was impossible to find parking near the shoe shop in Chapel Street, so I parked in nearby Garden Street. And made sure an "Official Directorate Vehicle" sign was visible through the front window, just in case the parking inspectors got a little trigger-happy with their ticket machines.



I pocketed my keys and headed back to Chapel Street. The shoe shop was easy enough to spot - it was the one with the cop cars out front and the black plastic sheeting over the windows.



Kade was nowhere to be seen, so I ducked under the tape, showed my badge to the patrol cop, and headed in. And discovered Chapel Street shoe shops weren't like ordinary shoe shops. For a start, the shoes were well spaced rather than crammed together in soldier-like rows. Then there were spotlights over the display racks, high-back comfy chairs, and plush carpets.



And a dead naked guy in the front window.



His thick thatch of red hair was the first thing I noticed. He was leaning over a waist-high shoe display, his butt facing the window, arms and head flopping down the back of the metal stand, with pretty-colored stilettos and boots scattered all around his feet.



"Puts a new spin on eye-catching window displays, doesn't it?" Cole said, stripping off bloodied gloves as he stepped out of the window.



I frowned at him. "Whose blood?"



"His. Seems our killer got a little heavy-handed with the scratches this time." He nodded toward the victim's torso. "Got scratches on his chest, genitals, and legs."



"What type of scratches?"



"A cat of some kind. She's a big one, though."



"How big is big?"



"Twice the size of a regular cat, at least."



"So are we looking for something the size of a puma or something more like a tiger?"



"Something the size of a tiger, at least."



I stepped closer. The metallic tang of blood perfumed the air, as did the scents of sweat and sex. But underneath those were notes of jasmine and orange. The same scents that had been evident in Gerard James's office.



My gaze ran from the dead man's neck to his back and down his legs. There were scratches scattered across his pale flesh - big, thick, ugly scratches that had taken more than a little skin with them.



"It can't be the same cat that scratched James," I said, glancing around at Cole. "This one has massive paws."



"I think it is, but I won't know that until I do some DNA tests."



I raised my eyebrows. "You found more than the victim's DNA this time?"



"Found it last time, too. I'm hoping the saliva found on James's cock will match that found on this man."



"And that's the only DNA of our mysterious lady friend that you've found?"



"Nope. And it appears our murderess is in heat."



That raised my eyebrows. "Then why would she be killing her mates? That's more a spider habit than cat, isn't it?"



He smiled. It was a nice smile, a smile that lit up his whole face. "Maybe they really disappointed her."



"Then let's hope her future dates have brushed up on their technique a bit more." Or that we caught her before those dates happened. The violence in her attacks seemed to be escalating, and I really didn't want to imagine what she might do to the next man. "We've got a witness this time?"



"Henry Rollins is the gentleman who found him. He's waiting in the back storeroom, if you'd like to talk to him. There's also another potential witness, but it might be best to let Kade deal with him."



I raised my eyebrows. "Why?"



"He's as drunk as a skunk and smells like vomit." His gaze met mine, blue eyes twinkling. "And we all know what a delicate little nose you have."



"Thanks. I think."



I turned and headed for the back of the store, but had gone only three or four steps when Kade finally arrived. I didn't have to actually see him to know he was there - his sheer, masculine scent overwhelmed just about everyone else in the room.



"About fucking time you turned up," I said mildly, over my shoulder.



"Hey, I had to stop for coffee."



"For everyone, I hope," Cole commented.



"I didn't think you boys were allowed to drink on the job. In case of spillage, etcetera."



I pointed an imperious finger and tried to be stern, despite the smile teasing my lips. "If you didn't bring us coffee, you can just go out on the sidewalk and interview the witness the cops are holding."



"Geez, is bossiness inbred in wolves or something?"



"Yes," Cole and I said together, then shared a grin. I have to say, I was liking this relaxed version of Cole a whole lot more than the sourpuss I'd first been introduced to months ago. Although maybe he was opening up more because we had gotten to know each other a bit better through our on-the-job sparring.



I continued on into the back storerooms. There had to be a small kitchen in the back somewhere, because I could smell coffee. And it wasn't top-shelf stuff, if that smell was anything to go by. Either that, or the percolator needed a good cleaning.



But underneath that almost burned aroma, other scents ran. Leather and man and, softer still, orange and jasmine.



And underneath them all, a scent that made my wolf soul twitch.



Cat.



It was faint, but it was there. Our murderess had definitely come this way, though the scent wasn't strong enough to suggest she was still here.



I came across the cop first - a tall man with blond hair leaning casually on one of the shelves. He straightened when I approached. "Directorate?"



I nodded, looking past him as I showed him my badge. Rollins was huddled on a kitchen chair, pale hands wrapped around a coffee mug. "Has Mr. Rollins said anything?"



The cop shook his head. "I just gave him a coffee to calm his nerves."



"Thanks." I slipped past him and walked over to Rollins. He didn't react, so I squatted down in front of him. "Mr. Rollins? I'm afraid I need to ask you some questions."



He looked up, brown eyes haunted. "I saw her, you know."



I raised my eyebrows. "You saw the woman who killed your boss?"



"Well, she was with him in the front window when I arrived, so yeah, I presume it was her that murdered Frank."



"Did she see you?"



He snorted. "Hell, yes. She paused and waved at me. There was blood smeared all over her hands and skin."



"She was naked, then?"



He nodded.



Not only a killer, but a brazen one, who seemingly didn't have any fears about getting caught. "Where were you?"



"Sorta standing in the middle of the road, a little shocked. I mean, it's not every day you see your boss and a babe making out in the window."



No, I guess not. "Were you the only one watching?"



"There was a drunk." He shrugged. "Most of the traffic kept zipping by. One of them almost ran me over. People in cars generally don't take much notice of what's going on around them."



And if they had glimpsed the naked woman, would they actually have believed it? Or would they have thought it a mannequin? "What happened then?"



"She jumped out of the display area and I presume she walked to the back of the shop. There were no lights on in the store, so I couldn't be sure, but she certainly didn't come out the front."



"Did you enter the shop?"



He shook his head. "I called the cops, and waited out the front. If she could kill Frank - and he wasn't responding to me banging on the window, so I had to presume he was dead - I wasn't taking the chance of confronting her alone. I mean, I'm half Frank's size."



Wise man. I waited while he took a sip of coffee, then asked, "Is there another exit besides the front door?"



He shook his head. "Only the window above us."



I looked up. The window in question was maybe one foot square in diameter, and wouldn't have been large enough for a woman or a cat the size of a tiger to get through. But the latch was undone and the woman had gone, so this had to be her exit point.



Which meant we had a shifter who could actually alter the size of her beast. Interesting.



"Did you see her well enough to give us a description of her?"



He nodded. "She was tall and willowy, with large breasts and a lush mouth. Blondish hair, long fingers."



I raised my eyebrows again. "Long fingers?"



"I'm a pianist. I notice hands." He hesitated. "I'm sure she lives around here somewhere. I've seen her on the street a few times."



"But you don't know her name?"



"No. Sorry."



I squeezed his hand then rose. "There'll be another Directorate officer in here in a moment or so to take a full statement and work up an image ID, then we'll send you home."



He nodded. "Thanks."



I left him to his coffee and walked back into the main shop area. Cole looked up as I entered. "Anything useful?"



"He saw the killer, so we'll need a full statement."



"Does his description match that of the woman James was last seen with?"



"Only in that they both had blond hair."



He quirked an eyebrow. "It'll be interesting to see what the DNA comes up with then, because the MO is the same for both murders."



"Except for the amount of bloodshed and the size of the scratches." I walked over to the victim and squatted down, studying his neck. Like Gerard James, this man had three small scratches near the pulse point of his neck. But why - especially given that larger claws had been used on the rest of his body? I shifted a little, and saw the lipstick smear across his lips. It was the color of dried blood - not a very nice shade. "If it is the same woman, do you think we're dealing with someone who can change the size of her animal?"



Cole raised his eyebrows. "It'd be rare."



"But there are wolves who can alter their human forms, so why couldn't there be shifters who can alter their animal one?"



"I don't know. I'll do a search and see if I can come up with anything."



"Good." I rose. "I think she escaped through a back window. I'm going to go around the back and see if I can catch a scent to track."



Cole nodded, obviously not paying a whole lot of attention as he picked up a hair and carefully placed it in a bag.



I walked out the front and looked around until I found Kade, then walked over. I could smell the drunk before I got anywhere near them, and his unwashed, sour puke aroma had me stopping several yards away. Kade glanced over his shoulder, wrinkled his nose and made a face, then continued his interview for another few minutes.



"Well," he said, when he finally joined me. "That was interesting."



"Interesting because he had lots of information, or because he smelled like something the cat chucked up?"



He smiled. "Both, actually. Our killer is apparently into spanking - and he swears that while she was human, one of her hands was that of a large cat."



"Which would at least explain all the blood and claw marks." I touched his arm, tried to ignore the urge to caress his warm, bay skin, and added, "She apparently escaped through the back window. I'm going to try and track the scent."



His steps matched mine as we headed for the small lane at the end of the group of shops. "He also said that near the end of the session, she seemed to be doing this weird sucking thing to his mouth, and that he suddenly seemed in great pain."



I raised an eyebrow, amusement twitching my mouth as I glanced up at him. "Maybe she bit his tongue."



"He seemed to imply it was more 'oh my God I'm going to die' - type pain, but then, he's as drunk as a skunk, so who knows what he was really seeing." He took a mouthful of coffee, then tossed the container into the trash. "There are Japanese legends about soul-stealers - you think we could be dealing with something like that?"



"It would certainly explain why there's no souls hanging about afterward." Shadows closed in around us as we moved into the laneway. "But in the Japanese legends, the soul-stealers are foxes, aren't they?"



He shrugged. "There's no reason why there can't be soul-stealing cats, as well."



"True." It was certainly an idea worth chasing.



The ripe scent of rubbish left a little too long in the sun began to flavor the air, jostling for prominence with the sweet scent of the yellow roses climbing the fence that divided the lane from the house next door.



Kade stepped over a puddle, then asked, "You get anything useful from inside?"



"Cole thinks it's the same woman and that she's in heat, but the description our other witness gave us doesn't really match the woman Gerard James was apparently last seen with."



"Doesn't mean anything. She could have been wearing a wig, colored contacts, or anything like that. My witness certainly didn't get close enough to pick up those things."