Hot Demon in the City (Latter Day Demons Book 1) Read Online Free
Author: Connie Suttle
to take over while I hauled Watson out of there before the police showed up to ask questions. He'd asked me to take the wounded vamp, too.
Questions would be asked; I understood that—about the building on the opposite side of the street and why there were holes in the brick, now.
After I'd tossed vamps through the façade, the place looked as if somebody drove a tank into it.
Clawdia's had no security cameras—for obvious reasons.
I couldn't express how happy I was about that.
"This is a nice place," Watson looked around with his right eye; his left was still covered by the bag of peas.
"Hmmph," I snorted again. Grabbing a second glass, I dumped it in front of the werewolf and poured a generous serving of Crown. At least he wasn't whining about his girlfriend or scratching at the door to be let out.
* * *
Lexsi
"Wear nice jeans. Black is better, but as long as you have a dressier top and jacket," Farin Armstrong, the morning weathergirl, informed me. "For now, Vann and Mike will hog the camera. Count on it."
I'd worn a skirt to work, only to discover that Mike and I were being sent to the Presidio, where several dead seals had washed up on a rocky shore. For now, we were pointed away from the murder/suicide investigation.
Our driver—the same one who'd ferried Vann and me the evening before, waited for us, looking as if he'd had maybe an hour's sleep before coming to work. "You all right?" I asked as he opened the door for Jessie and me.
"I'm fine," he growled, his words clipped and evasive. The door was shut the moment I was inside the car; Kory got Chet's camera bag into the trunk and slid into the driver's seat a few seconds later.
In the rearview mirror, I saw his eyes glance in my direction twice on the way to the location, but they were dark and unreadable from where I sat. Maybe he had a hangover. I sure didn't want to push him to find out.
* * *
An investigative team from Marine Animal Sanctuary met us at the shore where the seals had been found. Mike poked a microphone in the lead investigator's face and started asking questions.
"We sometimes see them die from bullet wounds," the man shrugged. "That was the first thing we looked for."
"Did you find anything?" Mike asked.
"No bullet wounds. We found they'd been killed by some sort of predator. We suspected sharks, of course, but the teeth marks aren't those of a shark."
"Do you know what kind of predator it was, then?"
"We're still investigating," the man replied.
"You have to know something," Mike responded.
"Cut off the camera, this is off the record," the investigator said. Mike made a motion with his free hand, indicating to Chet to shut off the camera. Chet lowered it with a nod.
With the mic held loosely in his right hand, which rested near his hip, Mike nodded for the investigator to continue.
"The teeth marks are sharp and deep," the man shrugged. "But the size of the mouth is roughly the size of a human's. Now, I don't know about you, but I've never seen something that could place a bite like that. It didn't look as if a meal were what the predator was looking for, either."
"Will you contact us if you get more information?" Mike asked.
"If I can hand you proof," the man shrugged.
"Do you have photographs of the dead animals—that are safe to show on the news?"
"I'll send something this afternoon."
* * *
"Gerta Britt is on the phone for Vann," a production assistant informed Mike the moment we walked inside the station. "The e-mail from Marine Animal Sanctuary is here, too."
"Silver, take the old biddy's call. I'll check the images in the e-mail," Mike barked. "Make sure she knows not to bother us with inconsequential shit."
I blinked at Mike twice before hunching my shoulders and heading toward my cubicle to take the call.
"Line three," the PA called out.
"Ms. Britt?" I answered the phone. "This is Lexsi Silver. How can I help you?"
"I found them on my camera footage," Gerta crowed. "The night I saw them leave."
"The
Questions would be asked; I understood that—about the building on the opposite side of the street and why there were holes in the brick, now.
After I'd tossed vamps through the façade, the place looked as if somebody drove a tank into it.
Clawdia's had no security cameras—for obvious reasons.
I couldn't express how happy I was about that.
"This is a nice place," Watson looked around with his right eye; his left was still covered by the bag of peas.
"Hmmph," I snorted again. Grabbing a second glass, I dumped it in front of the werewolf and poured a generous serving of Crown. At least he wasn't whining about his girlfriend or scratching at the door to be let out.
* * *
Lexsi
"Wear nice jeans. Black is better, but as long as you have a dressier top and jacket," Farin Armstrong, the morning weathergirl, informed me. "For now, Vann and Mike will hog the camera. Count on it."
I'd worn a skirt to work, only to discover that Mike and I were being sent to the Presidio, where several dead seals had washed up on a rocky shore. For now, we were pointed away from the murder/suicide investigation.
Our driver—the same one who'd ferried Vann and me the evening before, waited for us, looking as if he'd had maybe an hour's sleep before coming to work. "You all right?" I asked as he opened the door for Jessie and me.
"I'm fine," he growled, his words clipped and evasive. The door was shut the moment I was inside the car; Kory got Chet's camera bag into the trunk and slid into the driver's seat a few seconds later.
In the rearview mirror, I saw his eyes glance in my direction twice on the way to the location, but they were dark and unreadable from where I sat. Maybe he had a hangover. I sure didn't want to push him to find out.
* * *
An investigative team from Marine Animal Sanctuary met us at the shore where the seals had been found. Mike poked a microphone in the lead investigator's face and started asking questions.
"We sometimes see them die from bullet wounds," the man shrugged. "That was the first thing we looked for."
"Did you find anything?" Mike asked.
"No bullet wounds. We found they'd been killed by some sort of predator. We suspected sharks, of course, but the teeth marks aren't those of a shark."
"Do you know what kind of predator it was, then?"
"We're still investigating," the man replied.
"You have to know something," Mike responded.
"Cut off the camera, this is off the record," the investigator said. Mike made a motion with his free hand, indicating to Chet to shut off the camera. Chet lowered it with a nod.
With the mic held loosely in his right hand, which rested near his hip, Mike nodded for the investigator to continue.
"The teeth marks are sharp and deep," the man shrugged. "But the size of the mouth is roughly the size of a human's. Now, I don't know about you, but I've never seen something that could place a bite like that. It didn't look as if a meal were what the predator was looking for, either."
"Will you contact us if you get more information?" Mike asked.
"If I can hand you proof," the man shrugged.
"Do you have photographs of the dead animals—that are safe to show on the news?"
"I'll send something this afternoon."
* * *
"Gerta Britt is on the phone for Vann," a production assistant informed Mike the moment we walked inside the station. "The e-mail from Marine Animal Sanctuary is here, too."
"Silver, take the old biddy's call. I'll check the images in the e-mail," Mike barked. "Make sure she knows not to bother us with inconsequential shit."
I blinked at Mike twice before hunching my shoulders and heading toward my cubicle to take the call.
"Line three," the PA called out.
"Ms. Britt?" I answered the phone. "This is Lexsi Silver. How can I help you?"
"I found them on my camera footage," Gerta crowed. "The night I saw them leave."
"The
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