Blood Wyne Read Online Free

there’d be far more by the time this demonic war was over.
    It took us another twenty minutes to reach the FH-CSI (Faerie Human Crime Scene Investigation) headquarters. I knew this building all too well. It seemed like my sisters and I were here all the time, especially since the war against Shadow Wing was escalating.
    Most of the building was underground—the bottom level was the morgue, in-house laboratory, and archives. Third floor down held the jail cells for the Otherworld magical and strength-enhanced Supes. Second floor down was the arsenal—containing a vast array of interesting weapons viable for use against anything from werewolves to giants. The main floor contained both police headquarters and the medic unit. Delilah had hinted that she thought there was another level below the morgue, but we didn’t know what it was or whether it really existed.
    Chase led me straight to his office, rather than the morgue. A good sign, I thought. Straight to the morgue was bad . Straight to the morgue meant immediate danger, and right now I wasn’t in the mood for trouble.
    But as I took a seat opposite his desk, I happened to catch a glimpse of the photographs spilling out of a file on his desk. Crap. Blood and more blood. Everything was always covered in blood these days.
    “That’s your trouble, I take it?” I nodded to the pictures.
    “Yes, and I wish you could take it as far away from me as possible.” He let out a sigh. “I don’t know what to make of it. If it looked like simple vampire killings, at least I’d know what I was dealing with, but there’s something else going on.” He motioned for me to scoot my chair closer and laid out the photos in a line for me to look at.
    There were four women, each with obvious puncture wounds in her neck. Vampire activity, all right.
    “Looks pretty straightforward to me,” I said.
    “Yeah, you would think so, wouldn’t you? But look again at the women. Look closely. Notice anything odd?” He frowned and leaned back in his chair, crossing his left leg over his right and interlacing his fingers. “I really want your honest opinion because I want to make sure I’m not just barking up a tree that doesn’t exist.”
    I studied the photographs. Women, all pretty, all somewhere in their thirties, looked to be. All . . . wait a minute. Pattern. There was a pattern.
    “They all have long brown hair, layered. They all have brown eyes, and they all seem to be around 130 pounds. How tall were they?”
    “All between five six and five eight. So you see it, too?”
    “Yeah. Was there any connection between them? Any other similarity to their deaths?” A nasty thought was forming in my head, and I had the feeling Chase had already come to the same conclusion.
    “Obviously they were all exsanguinated, and they were all killed at night. Puncture wounds on the throat, though there’s no way to prove for sure that they were killed by a vampire. All the women were murdered within a five-mile radius, in the Greenbelt Park District. All four were hookers.” He frowned. “I’m thinking we have a vampire serial killer. If it weren’t for the fact that all the girls look alike, I’d just chalk it up to a rogue vampire attack, but they look so much alike, they could be related.”
    I stared at the pictures. Chase was right. They did look like sisters. And even though he couldn’t make the official call, I knew in my gut that it was a vampire—most likely singular—attacking the women.
    “Do you have their bodies, still? I can probably verify vamp attack, seeing that I am one, but I need to look at their wounds.”
    Damn, damn, damn. If it was a vampire serial killer, we had big trouble on our hands. Ever since Delilah decked him, Andy Gambit—star reporter for the Seattle Tattler , a yellow tabloid that fed on the fears and titillation of Seattle residents—had been on a tear, doing his best to smear Fae and Supes of all kinds. He’d been backing Taggart Jones for the