I must not have heard him correctly. "What?"
"I know it's a lot to ask of you, but I need your help."
My virginity was a lot to ask of me. This was just weird.
We rode in silence until the car pulled up at the medical examiner's office. The parking lot was nearly deserted at this time of night. We went to the door, then rang the bell. After a few moments, the door buzzed and the three of us went in.
The technician who met us at the door looked rather familiar. He had Beau sign in. "Think she can do it?"
"Worth a shot," Beau said calmly.
The lab tech led us down a long corridor to a door that said Morgue. "Give me just a moment to get clearance."
The door shut and through it I heard " ... Bjorn ... to see the dead girl ..."
"... relation to the deceased?" another voice asked.
That made me nervous.
The door opened and the tech smiled, and I remembered where I'd seen him before-he was one of Beau's men who had come to secure my house.
"Follow me," he said, and Beau and I stepped inside. Ramsey stayed in the hallway.
The room was large and sterile-looking, with small white ceramic tiles covering the floor and a row of metal drawers lining the back wall. Our escort pulled out one drawer in a puff of refrigerated air. On the slab was a sheet-covered object just about the right size for a body.
Oh God. Even though I'd expected this, my knees felt a little weak.
"Steady," Beau said, and his arm went around my waist.
The lab tech pulled back the sheet and exposed the face of the victim.
It could have been a wax Barbie doll; whatever was human about her had long fled. Her face was cold and gray, her features refined and pretty. Beautiful, even, but that wasn't a surprise if she was in the Alliance. Her ears weren't pointed, so that eliminated the chance of any sort of fey creature. Her blond hair was brushed back from her head, almost as pale and colorless as her skin.
Could I identify her? She looked vaguely familiar. I leaned in to Beau and whispered, "What is she?"
He whispered back, "Shifter. Don't know what kind. She's not from around here."
That definitely narrowed down the field. Female shifters of any kind were rare, so most were snapped up right away. Which made Giselle's business very difficult at times. "Any markings?"
The tech pulled the sheet down a little, revealing a tiny paw tattooed over the right breast. At the sight of that paw, I remembered. It was too tiny to be a wolf, the five small toes tipped with dainty claws.
"Mink," I said. "Regina St. James was one of the few were-minks in the database. She showed me her tattoo once." I stared down at the body. Lord, it didn't look like Regina. She'd been so pretty, with a zesty, bubbly personality. This cold stranger wasn't her. "She liked to date a lot. Giselle loved her."
Our tech nodded and made some notes. "We'll check with her family and see if she's been reported missing."
"Do you want to see the other body?" the other tech asked from the other side of the room.
Our small party headed over as she pulled out the slab. When she uncovered the face of this woman, I couldn't tell who it was again. The face was rounder, sweeter than the last. Younger. The hair was a bright yellow-blond that made the pallor of her skin seem unnatural. Her figure was slightly fuller than the were-mink's.
