Crime Bites (Urban Fantasy Novel)

Crime Bites Part 4

Jim and I parted ways once we paid our subway fare. We lived in opposite directions. Jim's house was out past Arlington in Virginia and I had a small apartment in a questionable neighborhood on the edge of Georgetown. Before I went home, though, I needed to stop at Oracle Books. I wanted to pick up something on vampire mythology, see if anything matched the killer's modus operandi. Plus Brendan would be there. A thrill of anticipation went through me at the thought.

I exited the Metro station and muggy summer air settled over me like a wet blanket. The overcast sky promised a late summer thunder storm, and I walked fast, hoping to make it to the store before the rain broke.

The first drops fell as I opened the door and stepped inside. The air-conditioning felt wonderful and I stood for a moment basking in the cool air. Pulling my sweat soaked blouse away from my skin, I scanned the room hoping to spot Brendan.

The store consisted of three rooms: the bookstore itself, filled with bookshelves, a reading area with tables and lounge chairs serviced by a coffee bar, and a conference room for meetings or special lectures. I spent a lot of time socializing here, and it wasn't just because my boyfriend was the owner. This was the one place where people really understood what it was like to be me. Where I wasn't alone. I came as often as possible because it helped keep me sane.

It's hard to go from the blood and guts of victims, a rigorous trial, and waiting for the verdict, back to grocery shopping, being a good neighbor, and watching Grey's Anatomy on television. The mental whiplash is one of the reasons most psychics don't do police work. That and few psychics were as reliable as I was.

Brendan appeared from behind one of the bookshelves, hands full of books. Catching sight of me, he ditched them on a nearby table. A smile brightened his face and made his hazel eyes twinkle. His tawny blond hair matched his eyes and always reminded me of a lion's mane."Hey Mel, how's it going?"

"Hey, yourself." I took in the view, appreciating the snug jeans fit his muscular legs and how the sleeves of his blue polo shirt traced the line of his biceps. I stepped down the steps that separated the entrance from the rest of the store and met him halfway. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. I enjoyed his warmth and the way the muscles of his back moved under my hands.

Brendan gave me a slow, lazy smile and winked. "Life is good, business is great, and seeing you is even better. What are you up to?"

I tried to ignore the bonfire his flirting ignited in my stomach. "Another case. What else? I've got a mix of vampires, Muslims and dead bodies. Got any good reference books?"

Brendan appeared to think for a moment and frowned at me. "I've got some good stuff on vampires. Although I don't see how reading about a myth will help you solve a case. Vampires aren't real."

"Of course I know that, silly. If they existed, I would have found out by now." I laughed and Brendan joined me, but I noticed it didn't quite reach his eyes. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged and refused to meet my gaze. "Nothing." He planted a kiss on my forehead. "Come on, let me show you what I have on vampires. As for the Muslims, I think the Bureau would have better information than any book on my shelves."

He was hiding something from me, I could feel it, but I allowed myself to be distracted by his closeness. It was tempting to try and read his thoughts, but I was a stickler for psychic etiquette. In our small community, eavesdroppers had no friends. I wasn't about to become one now. Besides, Brendan would tell me in his own time. He was as honest as they come and couldn't keep a secret to save his life. He would make a terrible FBI agent.