Bad Fae: A Snarky Paranormal Detective Story (A Cat McKenzie Novel Book 3) Read online

  Including my date.

  Well, if there was one thing I could assume, it was this would be my last date with Mason, too.

  “Sure,” the woman replied softly. “I’ll just go grab the sign then lock the front door.”

  When the scene was secure, I wandered back into the restaurant. Mason flashed a quick smile that turned into a frown.

  “Your head,” he stammered. “Blood.”

  I touched my forehead and winced. My fingers were coated with blood—sticky and wet. “I’m all right,” I told him, sitting down on the edge of the bench seat. “Just had a little issue in the bathroom.”

  “My God… are you all right?”

  I threw him one of my best devil-may-care smiles. “Sure. This is the least serious injury I’ve received while on the job.”

  “You’re not on the job though, are you?”

  Well, he had a point there. “It’s the most serious injury I’ve received out on a date.”

  Mason paled, and he lifted his glasses up off his face to rub at his eyes. “I’m sorry, but is this normal?”

  I heaved a heavy sigh. This was the second time he’d asked me that. “For me? Unfortunately, yes.” I glanced around the restaurant to see everyone staring at me. Not let’s-try-to-catch-a-look-while-she’s-not-looking kind of thing. They were all flat-out staring at me, and for the first time, I felt self-conscious. Snapping some napkins from the holder, I dunked the corner of one into Mason’s glass of water and dabbed at the cut. I had to grit my teeth to stop myself from cursing with each swipe of the wound. Judging by the sharp stabbing pain, I probably had some glass still embedded in there.

  I turned when there was a knock on the door behind me.

  “Officer?” the waitress called with a little waver in her voice.

  Dumping the bloody napkin onto the table, I stood and went to see who it was. I grinned when I saw Sawyer standing on the other side of the glass. “Let him in,” I replied. “He’s my partner.”

  The waitress unlocked the door and let the incubus in, sucking in an appreciative breath as he walked past. Yeah, I got it. Sawyer was smoking hot with his dark hair, clear gray eyes, and six-foot-plus height. Add dark slacks and a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows to show off his amazing muscular forearms, and he was a walking wet dream for women… some men, too.

  He took one look at the gash on my forehead and muttered, “Do I want to know?”

  “You should see the other guy.”

  He touched the edges of the wound, making me hiss.

  I batted his hand away. “What was that for?”

  “Just seeing if you needed stitches.”

  “I think the answer is yes.”

  “Yes.” He dropped his hand. “I have Ben and Hayliel on their way too, to question the people in the restaurant. Dr. Lee is coming. I’ve also had to call in the human CSI, as usual.” He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “We need to hire more staff. PIG’s numbers are dwindling.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Please tell me Hayliel will be wearing normal clothes,” I whined. “I don’t think people will be able to handle her in her undercover duds as well as find out that a fae was killed in the ladies’ room tonight.”

  “She’ll be on her best behavior.”

  The first time I’d met Hayliel was when I’d strolled into PIG, ready to get my punishment over with. She’d been dressed in something that looked like a fetish suit, all thin straps of leather covering her fun bits. It was instant distrust on her end. I didn’t have a lot of love for her either.

  I still didn’t know what flavor of supe she was.

  Ben, on the other hand, also didn’t like me. I was beginning to sense a theme.

  He growled—a lot.

  Was possessive of desks.

  I found out a couple of weeks ago, he was a Wendigo—a native American supernatural creature with antlers and a head like a deer, teeth like a wolf, and the body of an emaciated human.

  Oh, and bonus! They were cannibals too.

  Ben kept his real body hidden from human eyes, looking completely normal at work. I shuddered to think how the guy let loose on his days off. Maybe he turned into his real form and hunted through the forest looking for a tasty camper-snack.

  Shudder.

  “Now, where’s the body?”

  I led him down the short hall and stopped at the ladies’ room, getting the waitress to unlock the door for us. I stepped inside, the scent of cotton candy overwhelming me for a moment. More transmission-fluid pink blood was on the floor, gurgling softly down the center drain.

  “What happened?” Sawyer’s voice had gone from teasing to professional. Just one more reason to love working with the guy.

  “I was on a date, I went to the bathroom, and this fae followed me in.” I gestured to the woman with the pink skin and bright blue hair. “She said she was here because Kailon sent her, then she attacked.”

  “Her glamor disappeared when she died?”

  “No. She lost it when she was threatening me before the fighting started.”

  Pulling on a pair of gloves, Sawyer crouched down beside the body and looked at the wound in the center of her chest. “I take it Reaver joined the party.”

  “Can’t keep a sentient magical sword away.”

  He shook his head. “Also, you were on a date?”

  Slightly affronted, I folded my arms across my chest. “Yes. Why is that so hard to believe?”

  He glanced at me then back at the body. “What’s his name?”

  “Mason.”

  “Human?”

  “Of course.”

  “Of course,” he mimicked, then stood. “Why are you attracted to Mason?”

  I frowned. “Is this an appropriate conversation to have right now?”

  “Why not?” He gestured to the corpse. “She’s not going to tell anyone.”

  Touché. Sighing, I leaned against the wall and folded my arms. “He’s nice.”

  “Nice?”

  “And safe.”

  Sawyer frowned. “Safe from whom? You?”

  “Apparently not,” I muttered. “Look, he’s human. He has a steady job. He’s not associated with supes like I am, and right now, I need some normal in my life.”

  He narrowed his eyes and stood, stalking toward me. “Why?”

  “I just explained why.”

  “No, why do you need normal?”

  I gave him an incredulous look. “Why do you think? Look at me. I can’t even go out for a meal without killing something. If I weren’t a cop, I’d be called a mass murderer and be on death row right now.”

  He smiled, the gesture making him look wicked rather than angelic. “Good thing you’re a cop then.” He looked over at the mirror my head had been smashed into, then at the shards of glass in the sink. “So, what happened. Run me through it.”

  “I noticed her staring at me in the restaurant. Honestly, I didn’t think too much of it since people always stare at my awesomeness. I excused myself to the bathroom, and she followed me. I only knew it was her after I stepped from the stall. She was waiting for me.”

  “And what did she say to you exactly?”

  I dug through the memory. “She said, ‘you’re a dead girl walking. This is for Kailon.’”

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm? Is that all you got?”

  “What happened then?”

  “She slammed my head into the mirror twice.” I pointed at the bloody mess on my head. “Then I saw Reaver appear in the stall. I dove for it, and by the time I turned around and brought the sword up, she was falling on me. The sword went straight through and killed her. I rolled her off, took out Reaver, got squigged out by the pink blood, called you…”

  “Got it,” he replied, shutting me up. “Did she identify herself?”

  “No, but she did try to use her powers on me.”

  He looked at me through the last shard of glass hanging in the frame. “What was her power?”

&nbs
p; “When she laughed, it felt as if all my anger melted away, leaving me only with a sense of calm. The funny thing was my opal didn’t react to her—no pulse of heat or light. Nothing to warn me she was going to attack.”

  He grunted, frowned, then said, “She was a demi-fae then. That sort of power is a weak one.”

  “Ooo, burn, Sawyer. You’re lucky she’s dead. When I said that, she went into Rantville and started telling me how powerful her ability is.”

  “Why would Kailon send a demi-fae to attack you?” he wondered out loud.

  “I don’t know, but it was a pretty shifty move on his behalf.”

  Through the ladies’ room door, a booming voice said, “Taylor, we’re here.”

  Sawyer let Ben inside. He stared at me with dead eyes, then turned his attention to the scene. “What do we need to know?”

  “Whether anyone noticed her in the restaurant, what time she came in, whether she ordered anything… that kind of thing. Tell Hayliel to keep everyone calm and compliant. The ME will be here to collect the body soon, and CSI has been called in, too.”

  “Yes, boss,” Ben replied. He gave me one last scathing look, then left.

  “I don’t think the big bad wendigo likes me.”

  “Do you care if he doesn’t?” Sawyer asked.

  “Well, considering what he actually looks like and his very nature… yeah. I mean, who wants to be on the bad side of a guy like that?”

  “Ben tolerates you, which is more than he does any other human. You’re actually one of the few humans he likes.”

  “Well, he has a funny way of showing it.”

  “Detective Taylor, are we clear to come in?” someone called from the doorway. It had to be the CSI team and photographer.

  “Yeah, come on in. We were just leaving.”

  The door swung open, and the same team as usual stepped into the room. Three people in total, one of them propped open the door while another unpacked their little yellow markers with big black numbers on them. The photographer hung back, but her eyes traveled over the scene, probably already cataloging everything.

  I followed Sawyer out into the restaurant, stunned to see Hayliel—dressed in normal street clothes—and Ben calmly talking to the customers. Hayliel was with Mason, whose eyes kept darting around wildly. When they landed on me, I saw the palpable relief on his face.

  “So, that’s Mason, is it?” Sawyer growled into my ear.

  “Yeah. Jealous?”

  He scoffed. “No, Cat. I don’t need to compete with a man like that because you already know how good we are together. You’re just being stubborn.”

  “No. I’m being smart. Having a sexual relationship with my partner has bad written all over it.” I straightened as Mason stood and walked toward me.

  He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Cat, they said I could go. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “She’s fine,” Sawyer replied, and I shot him a glare. “You can go.”

  Mason swallowed hard, then looked back at me. “Can I call you later?”

  My eyes widened. “You want to call me later?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  I scanned the diner, taking in the terrified stares of the other patrons. “Because there was a murder? A murder I committed in self-defense?” I phrased them all as questions so he could see how confused I was. Surely, he wanted to run for the hills at this point.

  He pushed his glasses up his nose. “As you said, it was self-defense, and I enjoy talking to you, Cat.”

  I blinked. “Then sure. You can call me later.”

  He nodded then, giving Sawyer a nervous glance. Mason leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. Beside me, Sawyer growled, the sound jerking Mason away like a physical hand wrenching the back of his shirt.

  “I’ll talk to you soon,” he said.

  “Have a good evening,” I replied.

  As soon as he was gone, I said to Sawyer, “Was that really necessary?”

  “Yes. Oh, look, Lee is here.”

  He stalked off before I could chew him out anymore. He was either incredibly smart or incredibly cocky—safe in the knowledge that there was no way I could get irritated at him. Because he was right. I didn’t feel right dating someone while Sawyer still invaded my dreams.

  Three

  As soon as Lee and his van were gone, the CSI team had packed up, and the witnesses to a fae murder had been interviewed and cleared to return to their homes. Sawyer made sure my head got the requisite stitches from the paramedics still loitering around on a just-in-case basis. It was Jones and his partner, Berman, again.

  “What was it this time?” Berman asked wryly, gesturing for me to sit down on the bench seat inside the ambulance.

  “Demi-fae,” I told her with a grin.

  She slipped on some gloves and opened up one of the little drawers inside the rig. “Oh yeah. How was that on a scale of one to zombie cyclops?”

  I knew she meant it as a joke, but still, I answered, “A solid one. Not really as fun as it was to bring that cyclops down.”

  Berman simply shook her head and snipped the top off some saline and handed me a pale green plastic kidney-shaped container. “Hold this just above your eye while I flush the wound out.”

  I did as she asked and positioned the—bedpan?—against my forehead. “So, how have you two been?” Ah, small talk. There was nothing like it during a medical procedure.

  There was a soft puff of air then something cold hit my hairline. “Jimmy and I have been good.”

  “Do you always work together?”

  “Seems like it.”

  “Is he a good partner?”

  “Absolutely.” She took the bedpan from my hands and placed it down with one hand while holding gauze against the wound. Dabbing, she said, “Honestly, I feel like we’re married sometimes.”

  My gaze flickered over to Sawyer, who was standing just outside the rig, his arms folded and his eyes hooded. Yeah, didn’t I know that feeling. “That must be nice, though, right? Having someone you trust at your back all the time?”

  She shrugged. “I guess it depends on who you ask. I’m okay with it, but my cat isn’t going to start chewing me out for spending so much time with a guy at work. His wife on the other hand? She has some serious issues.”

  “Oh.”

  Berman sighed. “Yeah. I mean, it’s not like Jimmy and I are screwing around together. He’s at least a decade older than me.”

  “Age isn’t everything,” I murmured, my eyes still on Sawyer. He was stock-still, his gray eyes watchful. Clearing my throat, I asked, “When does your shift finish?”

  “After I stitch you up, so don’t move.”

  I did as she asked, keeping my head still as she numbed the area with Lidocaine, then put some stitches into the wound at my hairline.

  “I hope you’re not planning on getting any photos with Santa before Christmas because a surgeon, I am not. These sutures aren’t pretty, but they’ll stop you from bleeding out.”

  “And that’s all a girl can ask for.”

  There was a gentle tugging sensation with each loop of the thread, and all I could say was thank fuck I couldn’t feel any of it. When I heard the snip of scissors, Berman leaned back and placed her instruments of torture beside her.

  “As good as new. Keep the area clean. They’re dissolving stitches from my personal stash since I didn’t figure you’d want to get them taken out on Christmas Day.”

  “Good call.” I ran my fingers up to the small bandage. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  I stood, swaying a little. Sawyer was there to catch me, though, hooking his hand under my arm and keeping me steady. I stepped from the back of the ambulance, and Berman followed me out.

  “Stay out of trouble, Cat. I’d hate to have to stitch up that face of yours again.”

  “You say the sweetest things, Berman. Have a good Christmas if I don’t see you before.”

  “I hope I don’t see you again before Christmas,”
she shot back with a smile, already cleaning away the supplies she’d used.

  Sawyer escorted me to my truck, which he looked over with interest. “I can’t believe you got another one of these.”

  I patted the front quarter panel lovingly. “Why wouldn’t I? They’re the greatest truck ever.”

  A faint smile graced his lips, and my heart leaped.

  No. Stupid organ. Don’t react to Sawyer’s sexiness.

  “I just figured since you’ve already had two of them trashed by supernatural creatures, why would you tempt fate and get another?”

  “Because I’m a glutton for punishment.” Clearly, since I kept dancing with the idea of doing away with trying to stay away from Sawyer. I wanted what he could give me, but dammit, I couldn’t at the same time. Relationships with partners was bad. “Anyway, follow you home?”

  “I’ll follow you. I want to make sure nothing else comes out and attacks you.”

  He strode off before I could make a comment, pulling the helmet from the back of his bike and putting it on. I unlocked my truck and hauled myself into the driver’s seat. I was glad he hadn’t figured out the other reason I liked Rams. The cabs were so far off the ground that I felt like I wasn’t five foot four. I was used to the cracks about my height, but in a truck this size, I felt like a fucking giant.

  Turning the key, I expected to hear the engine roar to life.

  Except it didn’t.

  All I heard was a tick, tick, tick.

  “Shit.”

  Throwing open the door, I leaped out and hauled ass across the parking lot. Breathing hard, I stared at my truck, waiting…

  Waiting.

  “Cat, what is it?” Sawyer demanded, looking between me and the truck.

  Gasping, I threw my hand over my chest and just breathed for a minute. “I heard a ticking sound when I turned the key.”

  His expression turned dark in an instant. “Stay there,” he barked, then yanked out his phone and called someone. I couldn’t hear who he was talking to—only that his words were clipped, his anger bubbling away in the background. Keeping a safe distance from the truck, he bent down to look underneath then cursed loudly.