"You picked that out?" Caine asked. "That pink, plastic toy?"
I turned to look at him. "I happen to have been a little girl, once upon a time, detective. I know what they like. Every little girl wants to be a princess." A thoughtful frown overcame the angry tension on Caine's rugged face. "And what happens when they grow up?"
I thought of my mother and sisters and all the horrors that had happened the day they'd died. A bitter laugh escaped from my tight lips. "Then they just want to be little girls again."
Using all the usual precautions, we went back to my apartment. Finn headed to his computer to see if his contacts had found out anything more about Captain Wayne Stephenson. Donovan Caine sat on the sofa and turned on the television. The detective didn't speak to or look at me, and Finn was too engrossed in his e-mails to engage in substantial conversation. I took a nap, resting up for what was sure to be a long night.
Around seven, I got up, took a shower, and girded myself. Tight black jeans, leather jacket, boots, and a long- sleeved, black T-shirt with a pair of sequined cherries on the front. I grabbed my silverstone knives and even took the time to put on some makeup. My lipstick matched the scarlet color of the cherries.
I stepped into the den. Finn sat at his computer, sipping his fifteenth cup of chicory coffee of the day. He wore black pants with creases as sharp as my knives. A button-up shirt in a dark emerald covered his broad shoulders, while a black tie hung from his neck. Finn never dressed down.
"That's a rather dark outfit. Are you trying to imitate our Goth friend?" Finn asked, referring to Sophia Deveraux.
I shrugged. "She does have a certain style. Besides, I imagine things will get rather messy before the end of the evening. Hence, the black. Where's the detective?" Finn jerked his head. "Just got out of the shower."
Donovan Caine naked, water droplets sliding down his lean body, his muscles clenching and relaxing as he washes himself. Mmm. Nice image. Despite our earlier confrontation, I still found the detective extremely sexy. He'd be even more attractive if he'd lose the righteous anger and the stick up his ass. But no man was perfect.
I strolled into the kitchen, grabbed a blackberry yogurt from the fridge, and dug a spoon into the creamy concoction. I was halfway done when the bathroom door opened, and Donovan Caine stepped into the den. He also wore a T-shirt and jeans, although his were baggy and frayed around the seams. A battered, brown leather jacket, not unlike my own, hung off his shoulders.
The detective stared at me, his hazel eyes fixed on my lips. I ran my tongue around the silver spoon and took another bite of yogurt. Gold desire shimmered in his gaze, followed by a flash of guilt. Looks like I wasn't the only one who'd been turned on before. Maybe I'd do something about that this evening.
Maybe I'd do a lot about it.
Finn boosted another car, a Cadillac with a spacious trunk, and we headed for the nightclub. Northern Aggression, of course, was located in Northtown. The building itself was nothing special-a large warehouse with an anonymous, glossy, officelike veneer as blank as a vampire hooker's face. Drive by it during the day, and you'd think it was another anonymous call center staffed by corporate drones.
But at night, it was a different story. A large rune hung over the entrance-a heart with an arrow through it. The neon sign flashed red, then yellow, then orange, highlighting the long line of people waiting behind a red velvet rope. Guys in suits, girls in next to nothing, and everyone in between, all sizes, shapes, and colors, all eager to get inside, get drunk or high, and indulge in their fantasies.
The nightclub catered to a wealthy crowd, and luxury sedans and SUVs packed the parking lot in front of the building and the two on either side. Finn parked our vehicle for the evening in one of the side lots, underneath the soft tendrils of a weeping willow.
"So what's the plan?" Donovan Caine asked.
"We wait for Carlyle to show, see what he's up to, and if anyone joins him. When he leaves, we grab him and take him back to his place for a private chat," I said. "A variety of things could happen after that, depending on how cooperative he is."
"Are you going to kill him?" the detective asked in a flat voice.
I turned to stare at him over the headrest. "Are you seriously asking me that question?
Of course, I'm going to f**king kill him. Carlyle's working for the Air elemental. That means he's fair game as far as I'm concerned."
Donovan Caine shook his head. "I can't let you do that, Gin, no matter how big a slimeball Chuckie C. is. I'm a cop. That means something to me, even if it doesn't to you."
I stared at the detective. His morals were going to get in the way the whole night unless I convinced him to ignore them-just this once. An idea came to me, one that turned my stomach, but it was something I had to do to get Caine to go along with us.
"Finn, do you still have that photo on your cell phone? The one Goth girl sent you?" He slowly nodded.
"Be a sweetheart and show that to Donovan, please."
Finn opened his phone and scrolled to the appropriate picture. He didn't look at the screen as he passed the device to the detective. Donovan took the phone. Shock and disgust and horror flashed in his eyes, one after another. I waited until I saw the emotion I wanted-sympathy. Sympathy for what Fletcher had endured. Sympathy I was going to twist to my advantage.
"Take a good, long look, detective. That's what the Air elemental did to my handler," I said in a soft voice. "And she didn't stop even when he was dead. She kept mutilating him. That's how I found him, lying in a pool of his own blood, his face and body almost unrecognizable from where she'd used her magic to flay him alive, to strip the skin from his body. The stench was ... indescribable. She would have done the same thing to you, if I hadn't intervened. The exact same thing." Donovan Caine didn't respond. He just kept staring at the photo of Fletcher's body.
"I promised you I wouldn't hurt any innocent people, detective, and I won't. Like I told you before, I don't kill kids. Pets either," I said. "Even when I do kill, it's quick, fast, mostly painless. That, the image on that phone, is an abomination. The men at your house said Carlyle was with the elemental when she did that. He helped her do that to an old man that I loved. So yeah, I'm going to kill the bastard tonight. If you have a problem with that, you can leave. Right f**king now."
Donovan scrubbed a hand through his black hair, snapped the phone shut, and passed it back to Finn, who took it without a word. Donovan Caine closed his eyes.
His jaw tightened. A muscle twitched in his cheek. A vein throbbed in his forehead.