The Black Lion: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Godhunter Book 30) Read online

  “Get their prints and run them,” Officer Wright ordered. Maybe he wasn't merely an officer. After all, he hadn't said it, I had assumed. “Send their pictures to O'hare, Dallas, and... fuck, send it to every airport in Texas. I want to know where these guys came from. And check if there's been any flights arriving from Latvia today.”

  “Latvia?” one of the cops asked in confusion.

  “You heard me.” He grimaced and glanced over his shoulder. “Fuck! Where'd they go?” His eyes searched the area, running right over us. “Goddamn-it!” He drew it out into one long word. “Garcia, put an APB out on Veronica Lane; mid-twenties, dark hair, dark eyes, Caucasian, possibly Mexican.”

  I nearly snickered. I'm a lot of things but Mexican isn't one of them.

  Garcia—who I was betting was Mexican—pulled out a notebook and started scribbling.

  “She's with three men and one woman, all around her age; two men with dark hair, one with blond, and the other woman is blonde as well. One of the men may or may not be her husband and that guy's got black hair past his ass. Hard to miss.”

  “Ass?” Garcia asked with wide eyes.

  “Past it.” Maybe-more-than-an-Officer Wright nodded while he continued to look for us. “Richards! Freoff! Get some guys and search the area; grab anyone who's not in line! Hurry!”

  The cops hurried.

  “Fuck,” Cowboy-Cop growled again. “That woman is trouble, I can feel it in my balls.”

  Kirill made a soft snort of surprised amusement. I squeezed his hand then darted forward. The police officers had finally drawn away from the bodies and left a little space. I leaned over the dead, got a good look at what was left, then got a good smell. Leaned back.

  “Trace to Alūksne,” I whispered to the others; just a bare breath of sound, but I knew they'd hear me. God-hearing is incredible. “The docks.”

  I came out of the Aether near the docks of Alūksne. The others popped out around me. Everyone except for one wolf.

  “Where's UnnúlfR?” I asked Vejasmate.

  She looked around, her eyes going wide with panic.

  “Damn it!” I hissed.

  “Just give him a minute,” Kirill said with a grimace. “I zink I know vhere he is.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “Just vait.”

  Sure enough, a few minutes later, UnnúlfR appeared, his arms cradling two piles of squeaky, styrofoam, take-out boxes. He grinned brightly at us over the stacks. The scent of barbecue wafted from the containers and my stomach gurgled happily. The sound made a mockery of the incredulous look I gave my brother-in-law.

  “Did you seriously steal barbecue while we investigated the dead bodies of people who tried to kill us?” I huffed.

  “One; I didn't steal it. I left some cash on the table,” UnnúlfR protested as he strode past us and into the nearby park. “And two; I went after you concluded your investigation, if you can call sniffing an investigation. Come on, let's see what I got.”

  “You don't know vhat you took?” Jarilo asked but followed UnnúlfR like a lost puppy.

  “I grabbed all the orders that were ready.” UnnúlfR laid his precious barbecue down on a picnic table. “It's not as if I had the time to make the plates myself.”

  “Unbelievable,” I muttered as I turned up my internal heat; going from Texas to Latvia is jolting.

  “Volves,” Kirill added.

  Then UnnúlfR opened the first container and everyone shut-up. We were too busy salivating to speak.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  After we'd finished gorging like the wild things we are, we leaned back and started to digest; both the food and the information. Or lack of information.

  “Humans again,” I murmured.

  “This is about you, Vervain,” UnnúlfR deduced.

  “I'm not so sure.”

  “We were in Texas,” my brother-in-law huffed. “It wasn't about Mokosh and as much as I piss people off, I don't think it was me they were after.”

  “The police officers didn't think the shooters were local,” I said.

  “Zere are several gods who can take control of a human's mind,” Kirill reminded me. “Zey could have been enchanted and sent after us. Possibly traced zere directly.”

  “But why?” I asked. “Cephissus came after me himself. Why would an enemy of mine send humans with guns? And why transport them when they could have simply enchanted any of the people there? They all had guns on them.”

  “Because zey zink you are human, Vervain,” Kirill said gently. “Zey don't have to dirty zeir hands. Zey don't have to leave trace of zemselves. Zey can send humans to kill you and just enjoy results. And maybe zey traced zem zere to confuse police.”

  “But how did they know I'd be tracing to a barbecue place in Texas?” I countered. “We had barely arrived when they showed up and no one but UnnúlfR knew where we'd be going.”

  Kirill scowled at UnnúlfR.

  “Oh, come on,” UnnúlfR huffed. “It's not me.”

  “I want to go back,” I said abruptly.

  Everyone gaped at me.

  “Vhy?” Jarilo asked. “Aren't ve going to trace steps of victims? And I vas going to get information from police station.”

  “Yeah, we should probably do that first,” I murmured thoughtfully. “But then I want to go to another police station; one in Texas.”

  “Lexington,” UnnúlfR supplied. “We were in Lexington.”

  “L.P.D.” I nodded. “That's what Wright said. If we give them some time, they might ID the shooters. Yeah, that's a good idea.” I pulled out the strip of material we'd found in Mokosh's palace and climbed out of the confines of the picnic table. “Go get us that info, Jarilo, then give me a call. We'll see if we can find out what your mother discovered before she disappeared.”

  Jarilo nodded and vanished; either he traced away or went invisible. I took another whiff of the cloth to refresh my memory then handed it to Kirill. When we all had the scent, we headed into the main streets of Alūksne to follow the trail of a dead person.

  The idea that running through water will wash away your scent and keep dogs from tracking you is incorrect. A scent lingers over the water, in the air, and that's what an animal can pick up. That being said, full immersion in water and then traveling within its currents will erase a trail completely. Without air to carry it, a scent vanishes. But we didn't need to track the person after their death; we wanted to know where they'd been before it. And their scent told that story, leading us to a modest home on the outskirts of town.

  We cloaked ourselves in invisibility—one of the basic magics every god can do and the first god magic I had learned—and crept around the house in teams of two; Kirill and me holding hands to keep from being separated while Vejasmate and UnnúlfR did the same. The home appeared empty so Kirill and I traced inside after getting a good look at the living room through a window. We checked every room to make sure no one was there before we dropped our cover. UnnúlfR and Veja traced in and revealed themselves shortly after that.

  “Looks empty,” UnnúlfR noted.

  I nodded. “Let's take a more thorough look.”

  We split up and searched the house. We weren't the first ones to do so; drawers were half open, boxes pulled out from under the bed, and cabinet doors ajar. It wasn't chaotic enough to have been a burglar; I assumed the Alūksne police had searched the place in the course of their investigation. Or maybe it had been Mokosh; her scent was there too. Either way, it confirmed my assumption that the fabric had belonged to one of the victims.

  “Zey look happy,” Kirill said as he came into the bedroom.

  I followed his stare to a photograph on the dresser. In it, a couple embraced, staring at each other adoringly. They were young, perhaps in their late twenties. Too young to die. Too young for such tragedy. They had just started their lives together.

  “Pictures can be deceiving,” I murmured.

  “I don't zink zis one is.”

  “I agree.” I picked up th
e frame and stared closer.

  I'd thought for a second that the husband was one of the men from Texas. He wasn't. How could he be? This man was likely dead; drowned along with his wife. I put the photograph down as my stomach angrily roiled at the travesty.

  “I smell Mokosh.” I looked at Kirill solemnly. “She was here. She touched this same picture.”

  “Da. I smell her too.”

  I looked around with a bit of frustration. “I don't know what I expected to find here.”

  “Scent of another god,” Kirill prowled through the room, sniffing deeply. “Zat's vhat I hope to find.”

  “That would be helpful.” I grimaced and went back to smelling the home as well as looking at it.

  I picked up something faint. Something... familiar. I followed it out of the room and through the house. It was strongest near the front door; as if this person had stood there but didn't venture past the threshold. Their smell had wafted into the house but hadn't touched anything inside. I went out onto the front steps. The scent ended abruptly at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Well, I'll be a monkey's aunty,” I declared. “There was another god here.” I shut the door and turned to the others, who had gathered behind me. “They came to the door but didn't go past it.”

  “Kinda strange for a god to show up on a human's doorstep,” UnnúlfR drawled.

  “Do you know vhich god, Vervain?” Kirill asked.

  “No. The scent is vaguely familiar. I wouldn't be surprised if I've met this god before, but I can't recall a face to go with it.”

  Kirill breathed deeply and frowned. “Smells familiar to me too.”

  “We'll be able to recognize it if we smell it again,” UnnúlfR said. “That's good enough.”

  My cellphone rang. It was Jarilo. I told him to meet us at the docks, where Kirill and I had left our rental car.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Jarilo had the addresses of all of the victims and the locations of where their bodies had been found. We went to every home and found the same thing in each of them; evidence of a young couple in love who had received a visit from a god. Two gods, actually, if you counted Mokosh.

  We went to the lake next and thoroughly scoured every spot where bodies had been discovered. I didn't smell the other god there, only humans and Mokosh, but I wasn't surprised by that. The victims had likely been drowned then left in the water to float away.

  By the time we'd finished with the last location, we were all tired. Even god stamina could only withstand so much. We'd been nearly drowned in freezing water, shot at, then had wandered around all of Alūksne. It was time to call it a day. Actually, we'd lost the day hours ago. It was time to call it a night and fetch my daughter.

  There was only one thing left to do that I could think of; visit the Lexington police station, and I could do that on my own or with Kirill in the morning. I told Jarilo I'd call him after I'd returned from Lexington, and he promised to phone me in the unlikely event that he discovered anything new before then.

  Kirill and I went home with Vejasmate and UnnúlfR, picked up Lesya, and traced back to Alūksne for a family dinner. We were too tired to cook so we went into town; a place called Pajumte. It had snowed within the time it had taken us to collect Lesya—the first snow we'd seen in Latvia—but instead of stopping to appreciate the fresh fall, I herded my family into the restaurant. I was too tired for anything but sustenance.

  The food, however—hot, delicious, and heavy on the potatoes—revived me and I was able to enjoy the meal and my family's companionship thoroughly. I held my husband's hand across the table, listened to our daughter recount her adventures with Karina, then watched the snow drift down beyond the window as I ate. It was nice to just sit and be normal. And not be shot at.

  After dinner, we went straight back to the cabin and made a fire outside to snuggle by. Kirill spread a blanket on the ground—an area I first defrosted—and wrapped us in another blanket; Lesya snuggled on our laps between us. I warmed us a little but with our combined body heat, the blanket, and the fire, dragon heat became unnecessary. Lesya fell asleep, and I almost did too; my head lolling on Kirill's shoulder. It was his purring that threatened to send me to dreamland. Soft, sweet, and somehow masculine, the sound shimmied from his chest and spoke to me on a primitive level. It said home, mate, and happiness. It said safety; from all types of harm. But, most of all, it said that I was loved.

  I started to purr in response.

  “Time to go inside,” Kirill whispered into my ear.

  “Okay,” I murmured and stumbled to my feet.

  Kirill steadied me before getting up with Lesya. I let them have the blanket and grabbed the one we'd been sitting on. Before we went inside, I sucked the energy from the fire and put it out. It wasn't enough to fully revive me, but it was still equivalent to a cup of coffee. It woke me up enough for me to make it inside without falling on my ass—which is something I was prone to do even in my most awake state. When I noticed Kirill's heavy eyelids, I took Lesya from him. I didn't want him falling on his ass either. That ass needed to be protected.

  “I've got her, honey,” I said. “You go to bed.”

  Kirill nuzzled his forehead against mine before heading to the master bedroom. I climbed the stairs with Lesya and got her undressed before tucking her in. She murbled and flopped a bit then settled back to sleep. I didn't bother with her hair. It would be a mess by morning but so be it. I didn't want to wake her.

  Kirill, however, was another story. If we didn't braid his hair, we'd both wind up tangled in it. So, after I lit the fire in the stove, got undressed, and clipped my hair up in a bun, I slipped under the covers and nudged him until he rolled onto his side. I sat up to braid his hair, tied it off, then laid down to spoon him. My hand automatically went to his braid and clasped that silky cord. Like a child with a security blanket, I rubbed my thumb over it and sank into sleep with a smile on my face.

  It seemed as if I'd just shut my eyes when the sun crept in the bedroom and my husband was waking me in a way that had my eyes popping open. We came together in the cool morning light, blankets cast aside and hands grasping. Kirill undid my hair and sank his fingers into the mass of it. His face followed, burying into my hair as he groaned through his climax. Then we held each other while the day settled into place.

  All so normal. So perfect. I wanted it to last but I also wanted to get back to Lexington.

  “Why don't I pop over to Texas while you make Lesya breakfast?”

  Kirill stiffened and not in the way I'd have enjoyed.

  “I'll stay invisible the whole time,” I promised. “I can trace to Snow's then GPS the police station. If I have to, I'll catch a cab but I promise I'll go back to being invisible as soon as I get out of it.”

  Kirill let out a low rumble.

  “They're humans, Kirill. I'll be fine on my own.”

  “Zat man talked about you and his balls in same sentence.”

  A surprised burst of laughter erupted out of me. Kirill scowled deeper.

  “He wasn't talking about me like that and you know it.” I pushed at his shoulder. “And I'm only going back for information; a peek at their files and then I'm out. I won't be long. If I need you, you'll know it.”

  Kirill sighed then gave in. “Fine. I'll be listening for you.”

  I got out of bed, did my morning stuff, then got dressed as Kirill did the same. He did so silently, casting me uneasy looks. I knew he wanted to go with me but that would mean taking Lesya to the Vilkacis again, and I didn't want to do that. Especially since it would only take a few minutes to sneak into the station and find out what the cops knew about the men who attacked us.

  I dressed in jeans and a Free People blouse—something with full sleeves—and kissed Kirill goodbye. Lesya wasn't up yet, and I didn't want to wake her. With any luck, I'd be back before she got downstairs.

  “I'll be right back,” I promised and traced to Snow's.

  As I mentioned before, Latvia is significantly a
head of Texas as far as time goes. Early morning there meant late night in Texas. I traced into darkness, which suited me just fine. I pulled out my phone and googled the Lexington police station. As luck would have it, it was just down the street, within walking distance. No wonder Wright had been at Snow's for breakfast.

  I chuckled, tucked away my phone, cloaked myself in invisibility, and headed down the street. The station was one of the smallest I've ever seen; a single building across from the Cuttin' Up Salon and the Lexington Lodge. It had pale walls of an indistinct color, brightened by a strip of canary yellow sidewalk directly before the entrance. The street was dead. Utterly empty. A streetlamp buzzed and flickered above two police cruisers and one civilian car parked in front of the station.