Wicked Wings (Lizzie Grace 5)

“Maybe he’s simply echoing his master’s mood.”

“No, he’s naturally an asshole. But even if he was echoing his witch’s mood, neither of them have to take their grumpiness out on me.”

“True.” He paused. “Was it your psychic senses that led you to the first set of bones?”

“No, it was Eamon. I was at Monty’s feeding him when he caught the scent of whoever did this. Unfortunately, he lost the trail in the clearing where we found the first set of bones.” I shrugged. “I tried to do a reading on the watch we found there, but the man had been dead too long to sense anything.”

“And he’s in a similar state as the second victim?”

“I only saw his arm, but yes, I think so.”

Aiden grunted. “Hopefully, Ciara will be able to ID them both through dental records.”

If the monster behind this wasn’t collecting the teeth as some sort of macabre souvenir… The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

“You cold?” Aiden said instantly.

I smiled. “In this heat? Hardly. It was just another of those vague prophetic warnings that may or may not mean anything.”

“Those warnings tend to have more truth behind them than not.” His warm tones held a grim edge. “I take it you think there won’t be any teeth?”

I glanced up at him. “Considering you’re not telepathic, it’s rather scary just how well you can read me at times.”

“I’m a ranger and a werewolf. We notice the little things.” His smile flashed, bright in the darkness. “Besides, we have been going out for a few months now. It’s not like we don’t know each other’s odd ways and intimate secrets.”

“You may know mine,” I replied mildly. “But you can hardly say I know all yours. You’ve been remarkably recalcitrant to talk about the wolf who broke your heart, for instance.”

“And now is neither the time nor the—”

“That answer is getting monotonous.”

He grimaced. “I know, but I really can’t see why—”

“Aiden, remember that whole spiel you gave me about secrets and not wanting to go into another relationship where honesty wasn’t a priority? Well, ditto.”

He took a deep breath and blew it out softly. Reluctantly. “Fair enough. But not now.”

“Agreed.” If only because I’d probably need a gallon or two of whiskey to cope. Hearing about the wolf who’d broken his heart would be difficult in the extreme, if only because that woman had won what I so desperately wanted and had yet to find: a man who totally and utterly loved her, even after she’d long left his life.

That it was this man’s heart made it even harder, simply because no matter how much I might wish otherwise, no matter how good we were together, we were also witch and werewolf. And in this world, it really was a case of ‘never the twain shall meet’—at least not on a permanent basis.

I pushed away the heartache that rose whenever such a thought intruded and continued on in silence. Eamon found the clearing easily enough, and Aiden squatted beside the hole I’d dug into the soil. “There’s no scent of decay, which suggests this death is more than a few weeks old.”

“Unless, of course, the demon behind this picked the entire body clean this time, head included.”

He glanced up at me. “Why would it do that here and not with the other victim?”

“Maybe, as Monty suggested, it sensed our presence and left the head as some sort of macabre message.” Although, if that was the case, it was one I didn’t yet understand.

“How many demons bother to strip their victims of all clothing and then remove them from the scene of their crime afterward, though?”

“Probably not that many, but maybe we’re dealing with a demon with a weird fetish.”

A smile tugged his lips. “And how likely is that?”

“Knowing as little as I do about demons, I couldn’t honestly say. But fetishes exist in our world, so I can’t see why they wouldn’t in the supernatural one.”

“I’m thinking it’s more likely they’ve been removed simply to ensure no clues were left behind.”