Angel: Private Eye Book One Read Online Free Page A

saying?” Cortez leaned back in
his chair, the wooden legs groaning over the marked black-and-white
linoleum of the floor.
    “That I need to look at the evidence. I
assume you’ve removed the totality of the victim’s ashes from the
scene. Have you also taken a sample of Miss Luck’s blood?” William
kept his voice even. Dead even. He wasn’t like some of the newer
vampires, like some of his crasser brethren. He could work in a
pathology taking blood, and it wouldn’t send his hunger wild.
    He was in control of his passions, not the
other way around.
    William was vaguely aware that much of the
amorous affection for vampire’s came from their lust. To a certain
subset of the human population, they were attracted to vampires’
raw, undiluted, almost unstoppable passion.
    Not William. He’d conquered his drive long
ago. So it took no effort to control his expression whatsoever as
he nodded at Cortez. “Do you have her bloods?”
    Cortez made an uncomfortable move, his
muscles creaking as they stiffened. William could also smell the
distinct scent of heightened stress as Cortez clearly battled with
his conscience.
    It wasn’t that Cortez wouldn’t trust William
– it was that Cortez would have heard the stories. Blood could send
even the most gracious, courteous, polite vampire wild. Catch them
on the wrong day, and a single drop of freely given blood could
strip a vampire of every sentiment of reason, leaving only that
pulsating, never-quenchable thirst instead.
    William kept his expression even.
    Cortez appeared to come to his decision. He
shrugged, opened his desk, and tugged out two evidence bags. One
held a vial of dust – presumably the victim’s ashes.
    The other held a perfect sample of ruby-red
glistening blood.
    William reached out and plucked up the ash
first. He pulled it from the ziplock clear plastic bag, and held it
firmly in the palm of his hand.
    He quietened his mind and locked every scrap
of his attention on the ash. On the life it had been.
    He looked for any trace of the spell that
had killed the vampire. If he’d really been hexed, his ash would
still be sparking with microscopic charges of ethema – the primary
energy source for magic.
    … Nothing.
    The ash was clean.
    Finally William Benson III reached forward
and tenderly plucked up the blood.
    It sang to him. Reached out. Pushed through
his mind and snagged a hold around his heart.
    … It was powerful.
Extremely powerful stuff. So powerful, he almost considered
dropping it.
    He didn’t, though. He wrapped his fingers
harder around the vial, drawing it close to his face.
    Perhaps for half a second, he forgot to
control his expression, because he looked up to see Cortez
swallowing visibly.
    William cleared his throat. He ticked his
head to the side, inserting a finger into his collar and neatening
it.
    Finally he concentrated on the blood –
pushed past the insane hold it seemed to have over him.
    There was no doubting that human blood was
attractive to vampires. The blood of certain other magical races,
however, was much, much more potent.
    He suspected that’s what he was holding
now.
    “So,” Cortez appeared to reluctantly break
the eerie silence, “What are you detecting? Can you feel the hex
she used to kill the guy?”
    “There’s no hex in this blood,” William
managed, his voice not as even as he’d have liked.
    “What?” Cortez spluttered. “Well… there has
to be something else.”
    “There is.” Reluctantly, though it felt like
ripping off one of his arms, William handed the blood back to
Cortez.
    Cortez looked at him questioningly. “What do
you mean?”
    “I think it’s time I meet this Miss Luck,”
her name rolled off William’s tongue with a pleasant tang.
    “She’s currently in one of the holding
cells. I’ll arrange for her to be brought to my office—” Cortez
grabbed his rumpled jacket from over the back of his chair.
    William brought a hand up, surprised at how
quick the move was. “No.