Lily's breath caught in her throat as she saw the narrow face, the tilted slashes of the eyebrows, the slightly sallow skin, and the cool gray eyes that met hers with no trace of a smile. It was a striking face, stark and clean, the lines of it swept back the way stone is smoothed by wind. Not handsome, but not a face one would ever forget, either.
She knew him. Knew who he was, at least. She'd seen his photograph often enough, though he was certainly no movie star or director. Most recently, she'd seen it in the file she'd started four days ago. The one on the first killing.
Her heart pounded and her eyes widened in disbelief. "You want me to work with a werewolf?"
BY THE TIME Rule turned around, he was fairly sure he had his reaction to her scent under control. Or at least concealed. His heart was thudding against the wall of his chest like Thumper introducing himself to Bambi.
I can't possibly know. Not for sure. Yet her scent... Fear
and exaltation filled him. He studied the face of the woman he'd never believed he would meet.
Something in the smoothness of her face, the sleek roundness of her body, appealed to him. Her eyes were as black as the braid that hung down her back. And greatly irritated at the moment. She would move well, he thought, and wanted to see her move.
There wasn't a great deal of Lily Yu physically, but he had the sense that quite a lot of person had been packed into that trim, tidy form. She wore plain black slacks and a jacket the color of the poppies that dotted the hills in the spring. He smelled the metal-and-gunpowder odor of the gun concealed by that jacket.
No fear scent, though. That intrigued him. Even Delgado gave out a whiff of fear in his presence, though he controlled it admirably. That, and the fact that she'd risen to detective at such a young age, told him the dainty packaging was misleading. A man who didn't look beyond that packaging might mistake her for doll-like. He wondered if any had been foolish enough to say so—and if they'd drawn back a stub.
Metaphorically speaking, of course. Humans didn't respond so vigorously to insult. "Obviously you recognize me," he said.
"Detective," Delgado snapped. "Your captain assured me you didn't suffer from racial prejudices."
"Sorry, sir." Those pretty black eyes slid from her chief to Rule. "My apologies, Mr. Turner. The old-fashioned term slipped out. Or should I say 'Your Highness'?"
"My title is used only among the clans and by journalists. Strictly speaking, it doesn't translate as prince. That is merely the closest approximation." Her skin was ivory—not the bland pallor of one who avoids the sun, but a dense, saturated color. She smelled wonderful, very female, the muskiness of her skin faintly overlaid with soap. No perfume.
He smiled slowly. He hated perfume. "You may call me Rule. I would like it if you did."
Delgado cleared his throat. He looked irritated, which Rule understood. This was his territory, and they were ignoring that. "Detective Yu," he said firmly, "this is Rule Turner, prince of Clan Nokolai. Mr. Turner, Detective Lily Yu."
"Mr. Turner," she said with a curt nod.
That put him in his place, didn't it? His smile widened.
Delgado was speaking. "Mr. Turner spoke with the mayor last night. He offered his expertise. Obviously he has an intimate knowledge of lupus culture and, ah, habits. He will cooperate fully with you."
“Pardon me, sir, but I'm unsure exactly what that means." Delgado's eyes flickered to Rule. Knowing the man's discomfort, Rule took the burden of explanation from him. "Initially, at least, it means we must visit the morgue. I need to smell the corpse."
Chapter 3
LILY LEFT THE chiefs office fifteen minutes later, confused and irritated. Now she knew why the autopsy had been held up, though.
Maybe Rule Turner could identify the killer from the scent he'd left on his victim's body. Maybe not. She couldn't take his word at face value. People lied. They did it all the time, to protect small hurts or embarrassments as well as for more serious reasons. But if he claimed to identify the killer, that would be information, whether it was true or a lie.
She had to figure out his goal, what he had to gain by helping them investigate. Lupi weren't exactly civic-minded about cooperating with the police. Of course, Rule Turner was politically active on behalf of his people, something of a spokesman. Not to mention a favorite of the gossip mags.
He was also a civilian. Lily did not like working with civilians, but she could concede the necessity at times. Her confusion had little to do with her professional irritation.
Those eyes ... she'd never heard that it was dangerous to look into a werewolf s eyes. But there was a great deal she didn't know about them, wasn't there?
The man beside her kept pace silently. At least, she supposed that was the right word for him. Could you be a man without being human? Never mind, she told herself, moving briskly. The courts had ruled that lupi had the same rights and obligations as other citizens... when they were in human form.
His human form was pretty devastating, she admitted silently. Or maybe that was an aspect of his magic, whatever it was that enabled him to turn into a wolf. Or gave him no choice. Legend said that werewolves couldn't avoid the Change at the full moon.
"You move quickly, Detective," Turner said as they reached the elevator.
She jabbed the down button. "Habit. People with short legs learn to move fast, or we get left behind."
"Is that what it is?" He sounded thoughtful. "I thought you were trying to leave me behind. You're not happy with Chief Delgado's instructions. I'm afraid I disturb you."
"You annoy me," she corrected. "Cocky, arrogant men usully do."
"Arrogant, perhaps. Cocky is for puppies.”
"You said it, not me. Where were you last night betweenten o'clockandeleven twenty-five?"
"At a party with about twenty other people. A party at the mayor's house."
So much for wiping the amusement out of his eyes. "Were you there when the mayor was called? Is that how you heard about the second killing so quickly?"
"Yes. The mayor asked for my assistance."
The stupid elevator was taking forever today. She punched the button again. "If you're ready to start acting as an expert consultant, I have some questions."
"Of course. I hope they're personal." He stroked his hand down her braid. "Lovely. It feels as soft as it looks."
The shiver that ran up her spine was as distressing as it was instinctive. She stepped away. "None of this is personal, and you need to keep your hands to yourself."
"I'll try."
"You'll have to do better than try."
"We are a profoundly physical people, Detective. It's difficult for us to remember that others don't have the same need to touch and be touched that we do."
She lifted a scornful eyebrow. The Nokolai prince had been mixing and mingling with normal humans quite regularly at events fromSan DiegotoHollywoodtoWashington,D.C., for the last few years. He knew perfectly well how to behave— when he wanted to. "And here I thought you were hitting on me."
'That, too, of course. Will you go out with me tonight?"
Her lips twitched before she could stop them. Maybe his existence wasn't illegal anymore, but that smile ought to be. The way it spread over his face was a crime—so slow and intimate, as if smiling were a sensual indulgence to be savored, not rushed....
The elevator finally arrived. Three people got off. She stepped in quickly.
He followed. "What impersonal questions did you want to ask?"
"I know lupi have a toxic reaction to silver, because the X-Squads used to use rounds made from a silver alloy." A very expensive alloy. She had a round in her clip right now, having requisitioned it and two more after the first killing. "What about garlic or crosses?"