Page 23 of Curvy Dirty Omega

I checked my watch and did the math.

The cops had been called before he’d been murdered if my assessment was right. That didn’t mean he hadn’t been stabbed earlier. It could have taken him a bit to bleed out depending on the depth of the wounds, which gave me a window that was too wide for comfort, but also added some interesting possibilities.

How long had he been lying here bleeding to death before anyone even knew what was going on?

I needed Gideon’s phone, but I might not be able to get access to it before the police. If Frankie could make it happen, she would.

Refocusing on the pool of blood, I decided that he’d started bleeding no more than ten to twelve hours ago. I’d say nine, but there was a lot of blood and it took a bit longer to dry when there was this much of it.

My mother had been found in a pool of blood just like this with her wrists slit.

I was the one who found her and there’d been no desiccation of the blood at all when I got there. Her body had been in the bathtub with red-stained water, but one arm hung over the edge and her blood had dripped down to cover the pristine white tile, creeping toward the door and my toes in that strange silence that had felt so loud.

Suicide, or so I’d thought at the time.

This death hadn’t been disguised as a suicide though, and considering his position as corporate royalty, it would have been believable if Gideon Valor had overdosed from drugs when the stress became too much.

I wanted to touch the tacky pool of blood and see if it felt just like it did in my dreams or if my subconscious was getting it wrong again. Would it feel sticky and cold, or would it feel warm and thick like syrup before it was exposed to the air for too long?

Why did I always have to get so weird around blood? I wish I could say it was just post-traumatic stress, but I had a sick fascination with it even before I’d found my mother like that.

I’d walked barefoot to the tub through the water stained a deep red and no matter how hard I tried to forget, nothing could erase the memory of how warm it had been.

At least I knew this would be cold and grimy, so it wasn’t as difficult to resist.

Every breath I took tasted like copper and I tried not to focus on it too much.

Maybe I should take Frankie up on her offer to see a psychiatrist or something. Except it didn’t affect my work so I wasn’t really that motivated to do anything about it right now.

Closing my eyes, I let the sounds of Frankie chatting and the loud click of camera shutters fade away until all I could hear was my own breathing and the slight pitter-patter of the rain against the glass.

Blood was always the strongest scent. It was cloying and the tang of it got stuck in the back of my throat. It didn’t smell particularly fresh either which left this awful smell of rust and rotten meat. On its own, blood didn’t really have a smell, but once it was exposed to air, bacteria, flesh…

It didn’t smell like Gideon had any blood diseases or infections, but the blood had definitely touched his skin and clothes, probably sweat too before the body had been taken away. There was another scent…one that was difficult to place under the alpha pheromones still in his blood.

Whatever object the killer had used was metal. Steel if my nose was right. A knife would be logical, but I wouldn’t be able to confirm that until I saw the body.

I wrinkled my nose as I focused on the lingering pheromones next.

They were ridiculously strong and intense, just like Liam’s, but these were flavored with the emotions of anger and fear…disbelief. They soured the vanilla and made the sandalwood taste burnt on the back of my tongue, mixing in with the coppery taste of blood.

There was a third note that was specific to Gideon – one that set him aside from Liam. It was softer than I’d expected for such a dominant alpha…pears? That was such an odd scent for one of the rare legacy alphas who had a strong enough aura to possess the red eyes.

It explained a lot about his personality though.

Gideon had never been very ambitious. He’d been happy to follow his pack alpha’s orders and do as he was told to ensure his pack’s safety and happiness. He’d also taken very good care of his omega as far as I knew.

Whether they wanted kids or not wasn’t public knowledge. I’d have to ask Liam about that before Frankie questioned her.

Despite everything I could smell, there was no trace of the killer’s scent. I’d have to get access to the pheromone filter before anyone else or I might not ever know what they smelled like.

All that I could scent was the smell of soap that was used for their clothes. It was generic – a detergent used to cleanse fabric of pheromones. It was a very popular laundry detergent, but this one had the slight smell of something else.

I’d have to go to the store later and smell each of them in the laundry detergent aisle to place which one the killer had used.

Opening my eyes, I found the room exactly the same except now Frankie was crouched down, inspecting the pool of blood. The blood splatter was surprisingly contained, which indicated it hadn’t been a very passionate murder.

Desiccated blood cracked, the darkness creeping inward until all that red was finally black.

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