“He saw the killer, so we’ll need a full statement.”
“Does his description match that of the woman James was last seen with?”
“Only in that they both had blond hair.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “It’ll be interesting to see what the DNA comes up with then, because the MO is the same for both murders.”
“Except for the amount of bloodshed and the size of the scratches.” I walked over to the victim and squatted down, studying his neck. Like Gerard James, this man had three small scratches near the pulse point of his neck. But why—especially given that larger claws had been used on the rest of his body? I shifted a little, and saw the lipstick smear across his lips. It was the color of dried blood—not a very nice shade. “If it
Cole raised his eyebrows. “It’d be rare.”
“But there are wolves who can alter their human forms, so why couldn’t there be shifters who can alter their animal one?”
“I don’t know. I’ll do a search and see if I can come up with anything.”
“Good.” I rose. “I think she escaped through a back window. I’m going to go around the back and see if I can catch a scent to track.”
Cole nodded, obviously not paying a whole lot of attention as he picked up a hair and carefully placed it in a bag.
I walked out the front and looked around until I found Kade, then walked over. I could smell the drunk before I got anywhere near them, and his unwashed, sour puke aroma had me stopping several yards away. Kade glanced over his shoulder, wrinkled his nose and made a face, then continued his interview for another few minutes.
“Well,” he said, when he finally joined me. “That was interesting.”
“Interesting because he had lots of information, or because he smelled like something the cat chucked up?”
He smiled. “Both, actually. Our killer is apparently into spanking—and he swears that while she was human, one of her hands was that of a large cat.”
“Which would at least explain all the blood and claw marks.” I touched his arm, tried to ignore the urge to caress his warm, bay skin, and added, “She apparently escaped through the back window. I’m going to try and track the scent.”
His steps matched mine as we headed for the small lane at the end of the group of shops. “He also said that near the end of the session, she seemed to be doing this weird sucking thing to his mouth, and that he suddenly seemed in great pain.”
I raised an eyebrow, amusement twitching my mouth as I glanced up at him. “Maybe she bit his tongue.”
“He seemed to imply it was more ‘oh my God I’m going to die’–type pain, but then, he’s as drunk as a skunk, so who knows what he was really seeing.” He took a mouthful of coffee, then tossed the container into the trash. “There are Japanese legends about soul-stealers—you think we could be dealing with something like that?”
“It would certainly explain why there’s no souls hanging about afterward.” Shadows closed in around us as we moved into the laneway. “But in the Japanese legends, the soul-stealers are foxes, aren’t they?”
He shrugged. “There’s no reason why there can’t be soul-stealing cats, as well.”
“True.” It was certainly an idea worth chasing.
The ripe scent of rubbish left a little too long in the sun began to flavor the air, jostling for prominence with the sweet scent of the yellow roses climbing the fence that divided the lane from the house next door.
Kade stepped over a puddle, then asked, “You get anything useful from inside?”
“Cole thinks it’s the same woman and that she’s in heat, but the description our other witness gave us doesn’t really match the woman Gerard James was apparently last seen with.”
“Doesn’t mean anything. She could have been wearing a wig, colored contacts, or anything like that. My witness certainly didn’t get close enough to pick up those things.”
“Mine, neither.”
“Did he have small scratches on the side of his neck, like James did?”
I nodded and stepped over another brackish-looking puddle. “Same place, same size.”
“Then that’s our constant. For whatever reasons, she’s marking her victims.”
“But is she doing it before, or after? You know, for all the blood in this murder, there didn’t seem to be any blood related to those scratches. Yet they were open, un-healed wounds.”
“Maybe it’s some weird way of testing them before she kills them.” He shrugged. “We won’t know for sure until we catch the bitch.”
“Cats are queens. Only dogs are bitches.”
He snorted softly. “She takes female humanoid form, so therefore the bitch tag can apply. Trust me, I live with a household of them.”
I grinned. “And here was me having the image of you all being one big happy family.”
“Oh, we are. But where a group of females gather, bitching can be found. I’m sure it’s part of female DNA, just like the ability to sniff out chocolate wherever it may be hidden.”
“You could be right.” We reached the end of the shops and moved into the lane behind them. There were several cars crammed into the small space, leaving barely enough room between them and the brickwork to get through. None of the shops had rear entrances, which I would have thought would be against fire regulations. Even heritage-listed shops—which I didn’t think these were—had to have a fire exit. Maybe the owner was paying someone under the table to get away with not installing them.
I stopped at the shoe shop window and looked up. The sun hadn’t yet hit this wall, and the bricks were still damp from the early-morning dew. Small paw marks were visible, sliding through the wetness partway down the wall before disappearing.
“She definitely came this way,” Kade commented, then glanced at me. “You think you can track her?”
“We’ll soon see.” I stripped off my jacket and sweater, handing them to him before calling to the magic deep in my soul.
Energy swept around me, through me, changing me into the form that had found me at puberty. The form that was a part of me in ways the seagull shape—no matter how comfortable I ended up being with it—never would be.
To my wolf nose, the world came alive with a myriad of scents and sounds. I trotted forward, loving the feel of cold dampness under my paws and the play of sunlight across my fur. The texture of the air was thick and rich, and after sorting through all the different and delicious aromas, I found the one I wanted.
Cat.
But it was mixed with the scents of orange, jasmine, and humanity. She’d fled in human form, not cat. Which was odd, because her feline form would have been less noticeable.
But it made her trail easier to follow.
Nose to the ground and tail held high, I followed, padding between the cars and out into the main lane. With Kade’s shadow looming over me and his thick, rich scent teasing my senses, I ran back down the lane, leaping the puddle before moving out onto the main street.
The scent swirled, as if my quarry had waited and watched proceedings for a while before moving on. I ran down the street, following the trail over a road, past several more houses, then left into another street. The scent finally led into one of the houses.
I stopped at the gate and waited for Kade to catch up. The house was a small, brick affair that probably cost a fortune despite the fact it didn’t look wide enough to hold anything more than a small bedroom and a hallway. The front yard was almost nonexistent, but nicely kept, filled with sweet-smelling roses and abundant lavender bushes.
I looked around as Kade approached, then hit the gate with my paw. He opened it without comment, and together we headed up the steps to the front door. The scent of cat became stronger, but mingled with it was the metallic tang of blood and new death.
