I bit my inner cheek and nodded. He had me there, and he knew it. Still, the thought of running into Maggie or another inspector had me squirming, not that I’d let Andre or anyone else know that.
“C’mon.” He got out of the car and came over to my side to help me out.
“As usual Andre, I can do this myself.” And as usual, it took three tries to extricate myself from the car. Why couldn’t he own a normal car like everyone else?
Andre stood to the side of the car, arms folded, eyes glittering. I could’ve sworn the corner of his mouth twitched.
“You better not be stifling a laugh,” I said.
“Why you reject my help is beyond me,” he said, falling into step next to me.
“I don’t need help getting out of a car, thank you very much.”
“On the contrary . . .” His voice trailed off when I gave him a look that would make a lesser man’s balls shrivel off.
He laughed and caught my hand and intertwined it with his own, tugging me close to him. “I love it when you’re like this,” he whispered in my ear. My heart stuttered at his words, and I had to remind it that he didn’t say he loved me.
He pulled away and gave me a smug smile, just to let me know that he could tell what he did to me.
As we got closer to the scene of the crime, I dropped his hand. The Politia didn’t know Andre and I were soulmates—they didn’t even necessarily know that there was anything going on between us—and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I didn’t trust the Politia with that knowledge.
A cluster of men and women in uniforms buzzed around a central area lit up by spotlights someone had gone to the trouble of setting up.
The smell of decay hit me and I tasted bile at the back of my throat. I knew I should’ve eaten like a normal person today. This was the universe cursing me for my bad food choices.
“It’s going to be okay,” Andre said, his voice low enough for only me to hear.
I glanced at him, shocked that he knew how I felt. He subtly tapped his nose.
Oh, duh.
“I’ll be with you the whole time,” he said.
That should’ve rankled me—I wanted it to—but lately my righteous indignation had taken a vacation.
We caught the attention of a couple of uniformed officers. They took in our civilian clothes and their eyes narrowed suspiciously.
One in particular broke away from the group. “Can I help you sir?” he asked Andre, ignoring me completely.
“We were called in to give an expert analysis on the victim’s wounds.”
The officer raised his eyebrows at that. Only now did he turn his attention to me. It wasn’t welcome attention either. His expression became more and more skeptical as he took in my wine-colored pants, boots, wool scarf, pea coat, and finally my face.
“I’m going to have to ask you both to leave,” he said.
Andre took my hand and pushed past him.
“Hey!” he said. “You cannot enter the crime scene!” the officer shouted. Andre turned to glare at the man. I so would not want to be on the receiving end of that. There was something about Andre that made you want to run in the opposite direction.
As if reading my mind, the man took a step back. He also placed a hand on his baton. That was definitely not going to do much but piss off the king of vampires. And as much as I enjoyed that particular hobby, anyone else might not survive it.
Chief Constable Morgan pushed through the crowd of officers, probably to see what was causing the commotion. He locked eyes with Andre before glancing at the officer. “Rich, stand down,” he said. “And for heaven’s sake, take your hand off that baton. That’s the expert we called in.” The chief constable walked over to meet us.
Rich looked chagrined. “Those are your experts?”
The chief constable’s eyes traveled to mine and he frowned. “She isn’t. You can escort her off the premises.” The lines along his face deepened with his displeasure. “She and I will have a long talk about this in a few hours when we do call her in.”
I knew it. I was so getting in trouble for being here.
“I insisted she come along,” Andre said, placing a hand on my shoulder, “seeing as how she’s now helping me investigate these murders.”
“Oh really?” The chief constable’s eyes moved to the hand that now rested on my shoulder, and then they narrowed on me. I couldn’t tell whether he was pleased by this—he’d asked me to return to the coven after all—or whether I’d overstepped my duties. It was probably the latter, and that gave me immense satisfaction.
“Well,” Chief Constable Morgan said, “we don’t allow minors to enter crime scenes without first taking a class on crime scene procedure.”
Andre smiled at him; it wasn’t at all pleasant. “She isn’t a minor by the rules of our own community. And if you’re okay with her being a field agent, then she is more than capable of behaving herself at the scene of the crime.”