“What is it?”

“We might have found out who the dead female is.”

Minutes later, he pulled his Lexus up to the front entry of a posh high-rise apartment building that was a mere block from the Commodore. One mental scrub job on a human and an elevator ride later, and they were marching down a hallway that smelled like death. V was waiting for them.

And the brother recoiled as soon as he saw them. “What the hell? And P.S., you both look hot as fuck.”

Butch tore off his mask. “I can smell the blood from out here.”

Lifting her hands to remove her own mask, Marissa recoiled. “Oh, God … it’s her. That’s her scent.”

V led them through an anonymous apartment to an essentially empty bedroom that reminded him of his years with the CPD. And shit, Butch’s first impulse was to put himself between his mate and all the signs of a violent murder. But no more. It killed him to have her exposed to any of this, but she was right. She had to be here.

With her spine straight and her eyes clear, she went over to the bed—and fuck him, the image of her standing with her back to him as she stared at the blood-soaked duvet and pillows was going to give him a whole new category of nightmares.

Cursing, he glanced at Paradise, who was standing next to Peyton, and then he sized up Craeg, who was farther off in the corner. Finally, he assessed the scene, taking note of everything that was and was not in the room.

“Who got here first?” he asked.

Peyton lifted his hand. “I did. My cousin Allishon used this place to … well, you know. She leases it under a human name. I called her cell phone a couple of times to get her to come out with us—her parents had told my parents that she’d been out of touch for, like, a couple of nights, maybe a week, but that wasn’t all that unusual. When I didn’t hear back, I figured I’d stop by here, because she was probably partying hard. I came in through the terrace, because that’s how I usually do—and yeah.”

“Was that slider unlocked?” Butch asked as he lifted the billowing drapes and inspected a bloody handprint on the handle.

“It was open. But if the sun got her, it would have left burns, right? So maybe she’s…” He trailed off as he focused on the stained bed. “She’s not okay, is she.”

Marissa drew her latex hood back from her head and let it hang around her neck. Going over to the male, she took his hands. “I’m Butch’s shellan, Marissa. I’m the executive director of a domestic violence shelter. She came to us—”

“So she’s there? She’s alive!”

Marissa slowly shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I called my brother, Havers, and he treated her with everything he had. She did not make it.”

Peyton’s eyes returned to the bed and he fell silent. Then he whispered, “This is going to kill her parents. They lost my other cousin in the raids. No children now.”

“So that door was unlocked or just open?” Butch asked. “And I don’t mean to be insensitive, but this is a crime scene and whoever did this to her … we’ve got to nail them to the fucking wall.”

Peyton shook his head. “Yeah, no—I mean, she was a wild girl. She was a partier. But she didn’t deserve…” He cleared his throat. “The door was absolutely open.”

Butch traced the marks and stains on the carpet. “The only explanation is that she somehow used the last of her strength to get out and dematerialize to Safe Place.”

“How did she know to go there?” Paradise whispered. “I mean … thank God.”

“She must have heard about us somehow,” Marissa replied. “I just wish we could have saved her.”

V came into the room. “I just got a text from Tohr and Rhage. They’re fighting, it’s a bad skirmish. I’ve gotta go be backup—Butch. You’ve got to come with me. This is an emergency.”

Butch gritted his teeth and dropped a couple of f-bombs. But then he looked at Marissa. “You okay?”

Staring right at him, she said roughly, “As long as we can find out who did this, I’ll be goddamn fine.”

He gave her a quick, hard hug and felt a wellspring of pride in his chest. And then he gave her a very sad series of tasks.

“I want you to get a list of people she knew, human and vampire, from him.” He nodded at Peyton. “Then photograph everything with your phone. The whole fucking place. Touch nothing, disturb nothing. Lock up all the doors you can. Leave from the terrace. Then go to the parents’ house. They have a right to know tonight.”

“I’m on it,” she said.

Yes, he thought, she was.

God, he loved her. Hated this situation … but love, love, loved her.

One more kiss … and he was heading back down to his car, trying to shift his focus from one kind of emergency to another.

Chapter Forty-two

As Marissa talked to Peyton about who his cousin had been associating with, Paradise borrowed the female’s phone and went through the whole place taking photographs. With every shot she captured, she thought of what she knew about the dead girl. Technically, Allishon was her cousin, too, and though it was a more distant connection than Peyton’s, the loss was still acute.

Especially because she’d seen that bed.

Good … God. Such violence.

In about fifteen minutes, she had covered the bedroom, the bathroom, the hall, and the living room—and she was turning around to do the kitchen when she saw something down on the floor.

As the place was white all over, the flash of color by the edge of the sofa really caught her eye.

Sinking onto her haunches, she pulled out … an old-fashioned Polaroid snapshot.

With a frown, she realized it was … red and pink. Just like the one that she’d found on the bus.

The one she’d put in her satchel after Peyton had said it wasn’t his.

“What is that?” Peyton asked. “Paradise? You gonna be sick?”

She stood up and went across to him.

“It’s a picture…” As she showed the thing to him, she wondered if maybe she were jumping to conclusions. Maybe there was another explanation. “Ah, it’s like the one I found, you know, on the bus.”

“Whatever. Are you finished with the pictures? We have to go talk to Allie’s parents now. I need to get this over with before I lose my fucking mind.”

“Two secs.” She put the photo in her jacket without thinking about it and started snapping images of the kitchen. “I’m almost done.”

“She has the ashes,” Peyton murmured in a voice that cracked. “Marissa has them.”

Paradise lowered the phone. “Oh … God.”

“She just left to go change and pick them up before you and I head over there. I wish I had a joint with me. I didn’t think…” He began opening cupboards. “Oh, thank fuck.”

As he took out a bottle of vodka and slipped it into his coat, she wanted to remind him they weren’t supposed to disturb anything, but come on. Like she was going to bust his balls for not following the rules on a night like tonight?

“Peyton, what else can I do?”

His eyes drifted back to hers. “It is what it is. Thank you for coming with me, though.”

With a grim nod, she took one last snapshot of the empty sink and bare counters. “Here. Um, where’s Craeg?”

“He’s in the bedroom still.”

“Peyton … I’m so sorry.”

They met in the middle and held each other tightly. She wanted to tell him that it was going to be okay, but that was already not true.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too.”

Stepping away from him, she went to the apartment’s front door, locked things up with her mind and then proceeded with him back down to the bedroom.

Craeg was where he’d been standing for the longest time, and as she went to him, she put her hand on his arm. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” He turned to Peyton, breaking the contact. “Hey, man, you need anything … I’m here for you.”

Peyton went over to the male and they exchanged a hard embrace, and then all of them were out on the terrace in the stiff wind coming off the river.