Lucca (7 page)

He entered with his gun forward and ready to
shoot. His eyes widened at the scene. Splattered blood decorated
the counters, the tile floor and the table as if a
Zen painter
turned psycho
went to work on the place.

The body or what was left of the poor
bastard lay in lumps of flesh and crushed bone.

His nostrils flared. Not because the
metallic scent of blood, but the scent of mint and rosemary—strong
and potent. “It can’t be,” he murmured in disbelief.

“Drop the weapon and put your hands up, nice
and slow,” the voice behind him demanded.

His eyes closed in a deliberate blink. His
finger let go of the weapon where it fell to the side of him.
Lifting his hands in the air, he turned to face her.

“You,” she accused, her eyes widening to
large pools of green. Her hand wavered for a second before
suspicion took over again and she jabbed the gun at him. “What are
you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Maybe we
should have car pooled.” The third meeting within twenty-four hours
proved too much of a coincidence.
Shakespeare, my friend, we are
not in control of our destinies and Fate is being damn pushy
here.

“Answer the question.” She waved the gun at
him, her eyes narrowing. Good Lord, she looked pissed and beautiful
all in one. His gaze swept over her attire: Worn blue jeans that
looked comfortable but didn’t hide the fact she had a terrific
figure. The yellow knit sweater complimented her sun-lit strands
that were pulled back in a ponytail, making her look so young.
Hell, she was young compared to him, but the determination glinting
in her eyes proved she knew her way around a gun. One wrong move
and she’d shoot off a round.

Hmm... No badge. No uniform. Not a cop.
Could she be responsible for Leroy’s death? If so that would make
her a preternatural being. No human could have ravished a Watcher’s
body in this fashion. He couldn’t help but wonder if she were one
of the Fae. Her scent worked like an aphrodisiac and they were
known to use scents to manipulate. Even now with her determined
stance to shoot him full of holes, his body hummed with an
undercurrent to claim her, his wings fluttering against its binds,
trying to rip free. His gaze lingered on her lips with the thought
of how they would feel beneath his—soft, full and—

“If you’re done checking me out, I want an
answer,” she snapped, her patience gone.

He forgot the question. He shook his head,
trying to clear his thoughts.
Stay focused.
“Leroy Fennings
hired me.” He didn’t have to tell her he wanted him to meet
someone. For a flicker of a moment, he wondered if Leroy meant for
him to meet
her
.

“Hired you for what?” Her gaze flickered to
the gun at his feet. “Do you have a permit for your weapon?” Even
earthbound with his wings suppressed, his natural instincts were
faster than a human’s response. If he wanted to, he could retrieve
the weapon in a flash and this conversation would be over. He found
he didn’t want to risk hurting her just to show his superior moves.
His gaze wavered over her and for a second he thought of other
moves he’d like to show her. He cleared his thoughts and forced
himself to concentrate on the gun she held. Looking at any part of
her anatomy proved to be the more dangerous weapon.

“Which question do you want me to answer
first?”

She waved the gun at him. “Don’t play
cute.”

“Of course not,” he bit out, tired of this
game. “Leroy thought someone was following him,” he told her. It
was the truth after all, or it had been a few weeks ago. By the
look of the room, he’d say the person hadn’t been a figment of
Leroy’s imagination. “And yes, I have a permit for the gun.” His
gaze swept over the room, blood darkening as it dried. This wasn’t
right. Angels as well as half angels turned to dust when killed.
They didn’t become minced meat. “I have a card.” He pointed to his
pants pocket. “I’m going to pull it out. I’d appreciate you not
ruining my day by shooting me full of holes.”

She gave him a quick nod and he fished out
his business card.

“Just toss it to me,” she demanded.

She wasn’t taking any chances here. His
fingers flicked the card in her directions. Without taking her eyes
off him, she crouched down to retrieve the card. She glanced at it
then looked at him. “Lucca Marlowe, private detective. Why private?
Why aren’t you working for a police department?”

“I didn’t realize working for myself was a
crime.” She didn’t answer and he sighed. “I wanted something
quieter with work hours I set.” He met her gaze head on. “Your
turn. What’s your name? Why are you here? Do you have a permit for
your weapon
?” Sarcasm dripped from the last question like a
tease.

The sheen of sweat beaded at her temple and
she licked her lips as she debated if she should trust him. “Leroy…
Leroy was an acquaintance.” She lowered the gun. “I’m Juliet
Romeo.” Her gaze met his and narrowed. “And yes, I have a permit
for my weapon. Leroy called me last night and asked me to come by.
Said he wanted…” A flicker of emotions flitted across her delicate
features before she leveled her gaze at him again. “He wanted to
talk to me.”

Lucca had a hunch she wasn’t telling the
whole truth. “So you’re Juliet Romeo.” Another time and place, he
may have made a wisecrack about her name. Either it was an alias or
her parents were Shakespeare fanatics. He chose his human last name
of Marlowe to honor his good friend Kit or as the world knew him:
Christopher Marlowe. Who would have believed a son of a shoemaker
would become a famous playwright, but more importantly, a dear
friend to one of the Nephilim.

Juliet may not be lying about being an
acquaintance of Leroy’s, but she held something back. Her emotions
were not of a detective looking for evidence of
who-did-the-nasty-deed
, but of a person who had an intimate
relationship with the victim. She knew Leroy, knew him well. The
thought of her possibly being his lover rankled him more than it
should. “You’re not the police, but you come packing to an
acquaintance’s
house. Seems kind of odd.”

She tugged at the necklace she had secured
around her neck. The end of it lay hidden beneath her sweater.
Pulling the item out revealed a badge. “Detective. Off duty right
now.”

So she was law enforcement. Feminine, but
lethal—he found he liked the combination. His lips twitched,
threatening to smile.

“Do you find something amusing here?” Her
terse reprimand disguised as a question sobered him.

He lifted his hand and coughed behind his
fist. “No, of course not.”

Her hand moved behind her. She shoved the
gun back in its holster. “Leroy asked me to come by this
morning.”

“He left a message for me about six or so,
asking me come by, too.” Had Leroy wanted him to meet Juliet? If
so, why?

“Hmm...” Her brows furrowed as if her
thoughts had taken her somewhere else.

“When he called you, did he sound
scared?”

She shook her head. “No, just the opposite.
He would have said something to me if he was scared,” she said the
last more to herself.

Acquaintance be damned. He was right. They
did have an intimate relationship. “Maybe your boyfriend,” the word
tasted like acid in his mouth, “didn’t want to worry you. And don’t
bother with pretending he was only an acquaintance. The ruse is
up.”

Her gaze met his. “Not that it’s any of your
business, but Leroy was a
friend
, not my boyfriend.”

Good to know. He held back the smile that
twitched his lips. What was with this woman that made him want to
grin like a fool? “Do you have any idea
s
who might have wanted to harm Leroy?”

She walked past him, taking in the gruesome
scene. Her eyes filled with unshed tears, glassy pools of green.
When she caught sight of him staring at her, she turned away,
pretending to be interested in the crime scene.

Oh yeah, Leroy had been a very good friend.
Again anger swirled and twisted in his gut at the thought of Leroy
touching her. He shook his head. Where were these thoughts coming
from? They were really ticking him off.

“Did you touch anything?” she asked, her
tone accusing him.

“We’ve resorted to being condescending
now?”

Her gaze riveted to his and this time it was
her lips that twitched though she did a better job than he did at
not giving into the compulsion to grin. “Maybe you bring the best
out in me, detective.”

“Hmm...” He would have much rather looked at
the evidence without her being here, but he couldn’t very well ask
her to leave. “Out of curiosity, how do you know about the theatre
company, Shakespeare in the Park?”

Her eyes narrowed, darkening with suspicion.
“How do you—”

“You wore a T-shirt last night with the
logo.” He didn’t let her finish.

“So you noticed more than my scent.” Her
eyes twinkled with amusement. The woman had a sense of humor. He
liked that, too.

His lips curved into a grin as he shrugged
his shoulders. “Sorry, if I came on too strong.”

She waved his apology off. “Your friend
explained.”

“Gideon?” For the first time he wondered
what else Gideon told her when he stepped outside the
Laundromat.

She nodded. “He explained you were mugged
and the meds had made you loopy.”

Mugging? Then he remembered his cuts and
bruises that were all but healed this morning. A human would take
up to a week or more to heal from the injuries he sustained, but by
tomorrow, the worst of it would be a distant memory. “Yeah, I
tossed the meds this morning. I need a clear mind. So are you
involved with the theatre?” he asked again, determined to know more
about her.

“Yes, tryouts are tonight if you’re
interested.” She said in an off-handed manner, obviously dismissing
him in having an interest in the arts.

“I might show up.”

Her gaze wavered over him. “Do you know
anything about Shakespeare?”

His lips curved. Will and he had shared a
pint or two, but he knew she wasn’t asking if he knew the man
personally. “I’ve even performed in a few of Shakespeare’s
plays.”

Doubt still lingered in her eyes, but also
admiration. “Maybe I’ll see you there tonight. I’m in charge of
wardrobe. We’re looking for a male addition to the troupe.”

Perfect.

Juliet’s features sobered as her gaze landed
on a bloody print on the black stovetop. Her steps took her for a
closer look. Their pleasant banter was put on hold for now.

The splayed handprint was a bold statement
of how Leroy fought for his life. Leroy died protecting what
exactly? Whoever did this wanted information and they took extreme
measures to pry it from him.

“Who could have done this?” Her voice
lowered to a hoarse whisper.

He had his suspicions, all of which he
couldn’t share with her. This was preternatural business. Leroy may
have wanted to spend the morning with Juliet, but his untimely
death dragged her into this mess. Half angels didn’t usually buddy
up with humans, even if... His gaze slid down Juliet’s curvy body
and back up again. Even if the human looked like Miss Romeo. She
grieved for Leroy. No doubt about it. Her emotions were thick as
the blood splattered on the walls.

“This was personal. No one kills with such
rage without knowing the vic,” she voiced her opinion.

She obviously didn’t know many Hashasheen
demons. They enjoyed the kill almost as much as they enjoyed the
hunt and they didn’t have to even know the
vic’s
name. With
a quick once over though, he dismissed the Hashasheen demons of the
crime.

He crouched down to examine the bloody flesh
at the foot of the table. Edges of the flesh were black as if fire
had been part of the torture. His hand reached out to touch it,
hoping to pick up a signature reading of the being responsible for
the carnage. He wasn’t very good at it, but it was worth a
shot.

“What are you doing? Stop!”

Juliet’s shrill warning brought him up
short. For a brief moment, he didn’t understand the horrified
expression marring her otherwise perfect features. Then he realized
humans didn’t touch blood without protection. The Fallen had very
few things to thank their fathers for, but a supreme immune system
happened to be one of them. “I wasn’t going to touch.”

She gave him a narrow-eyed look, indicating
she thought he was full of it. “I’m calling this in. We need a
forensic team.” Her hand slipped into her pocket, pulling out her
cell.

Great, call in the humans to muck up the
job. If he still possessed his glamour, he’d make her forget this
little scene and have her go home, but without his powers, he
allowed her to make the call and hope for the best.

After a few brief words, she finished the
call and placed the phone back in her pocket. “They’re on their
way.”

“Then I’ll be seeing you.” He headed out of
the kitchen and into the living room with Juliet close on his
heals.

“Wait, where are you going. You need to make
a statement.”

“You can handle that end.”

“You can’t leave. You’re a witness.”

He whirled to face her and she slammed into
him. His hands whipped out to steady her, soft but firm arms met
his grip. The woman was in shape. Of course just looking at her, he
could have guessed she took care of herself. Her flawless peach
skin, shiny hair, and curvy figure said it all. “You saw what I
saw. You give the statement. I’m off this case.”

“What do you mean?”

“Leroy hired me to watch his coffee shop.
Leroy is dead. No client. No job.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug.
He didn’t see the point in mentioning Leroy wanted him to meet
someone. Maybe Leroy had meant Juliet. The Watcher had asked her
over for a chat, too. Well, he made the introductions, and he’d go
from there. Case closed.