Page 15 of Tested
Chapter Five
David
The last – and I meanthe last– thing I want to do after getting so very well fucked is to make polite conversation with Trajan’s bestie and look at photos of a dead woman. That’s what’s on the agenda, though, and I suppose I should be thankful Connor remembered she’s coming before Sheena actually knocks on our door.
I will say, though, that pretending to be too weak to walk and having a vampire carry me up two flights of stairs makes up for some of my aggravation. I dress in a Hang Ten hoodie and a sarong instead of jeans, because while Connor’s pretty cool, his dick is big enough to leave a mark. My bits appreciate the flow of air as I jog downstairs, just in time to get the door for Sheena.
She stalks in, wearing a black leather Domme dress and smelling like cigarettes, which makes me bite my lip.No smoking or the vampire complains.Hell, he does more than complain, enough that I’ve pretty much quit smoking.
“There’s already chatter,” she says with no other preamble.
Connor’s facing the big windows, his copper curls still damp from the shower. “Chatter about the murder?”
“Sort of.” She drops onto the couch next to Trajan and gives him a kiss. “Guy came in right before closing and said there are all kinds of rumors.”
“Like what?” Connor’s bleak expression matches Sheena’s somber tone.
“The usual. Drug deal gone bad. Revenge. He was pretty convinced this was only the first, though.”
“The first of how many?” I ask, settling on the chair closest to Connor and adjusting the sarong to keep from flashing Sheena. She wouldn’t appreciate my boy parts except from a professional standpoint, but still.
Connor comes over and leans against the arm of my chair, fingers teasing the back of my neck.
“He didn’t say, and he wouldn’t tell me why he thought so,” Sheena says.
Connor’s hand stills, as if he’s making a conscious decision not to punch the nearest available object. “One is already too many,” he says, his voice firm, determined. He holds his cell phone toward Sheena and Trajan. “Recognize her?”
I crane my neck so I can see too and immediately regret my choice. The face in the picture is grey verging on purple and spattered with blood. Retreating to my chair, I leave the rest of them to it.
Trajan and Sheena give the photograph a long look, then glance at each other. “Maybe one of the Nosakas?” Trajan murmurs, and Sheena nods.
“Could be Adeline, although I can’t imagine why anyone would do that to a middle-aged kitsune whose gravest sin is probably parking on the wrong side when the street sweepers come.”
“That’s your best guess?” Connor’s all business, which is impressive given it wasn’t so long ago that he pounded my ass. He swipes his phone and glances up at Trajan, as if he’s giving him one last chance to change his mind.
Trajan shrugs in response. “There aren’t that many kitsune families in the area.”
“Not much to go on, except for those earrings,” Sheena observes. “Pretty sure Adeline Nosaka likes her diamonds, so that could be her.”
I hadn’t noticed her earrings, but then I didn’t take more than a glance. Connor murmurs something about texting Smith the name, and I ponder identifying marks. My bum is tender, but that’s not the kind of thing a guy shows the public. When I was part of my family’s pack, I didn’t need marks. Any wolf who met me would sense my affiliation at a glance.
But now I’m a lone wolf with a self-made pack. I shift and the sarong spreads open, showing off one of my thighs. I could put a tattoo there, something with symbols for each of us. Connor could be the sun and Trajan the moon, but then what am I?
Thatisthe question of the hour.
Connor announces that he’s going to accompany Smith to talk to someone from the Nosaka family and Sheena says it’s time for her beauty sleep. I respond with something suitably snarky and then I’m left with Trajan and we’re staring at each other across our beautiful living room. It’s too early for bed and even with my wolf’s ability to heal I’m not ready for another round of bumpin’ uglies.
“Wanna watch more—”
“I didn’t mean to make you angry.” Trajan interrupts me. Shuts me right up, in fact.
He shifts in his seat as if he can’t decide whether he’s uncomfortable or not. “I’m ready to diversify and while restaurants are relatively high-risk, running a place aimed at the supernatural crowd appeals to me.”
This is Trajan the cold and collected business-vampire talking, not the lover or the hitman/bodyguard. I miss the hitman, tbh, but I square my shoulders and try to respond as David-the-alpha-were-and-finance-major. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t do exactly that. I just”—I shrug—“don’t want to be handed something I didn’t earn.”
His expression is still forbidding, but something in his gaze softens. “Oh, you’ll earn it, puppy, but take some time and think things through. There’s no rush.”
“All right, well…”I guess it’s not the time to suggest more Dancing with the Stars. “Let me do some reading and I’ll let you know.”
Trajan heads for his office and off to the laptop I go. To do some reading. And not to play Half-Life 2.
Absolutely not.
