Deathtrap (Crossbreed #3)(26)
Claude scratched his chin. “Her whole life was in that car, and the Regulators didn’t find anything useful. All we can do is hope the baby turns up,” he said, hinting toward the black market offers that Wyatt was researching.
“How are we going to link that person to the one who broke into her car?”
He bent forward, menace flickering in his eyes. “Because I own his scent.”
Gem leaned against Claude, and it seemed to pacify him. She was a girl with a small frame, her features so unique that she looked like a fairy who’d stepped out of a storybook. Around her dark lashes, her skin sparkled with flecks of silver glitter. When she smiled, her cheeks glowed. And while she had a small mouth, her lips were full with the subtlest Cupid’s bow.
Claude put his arm around her and tilted his head down. “Are you ready to go home? I think we’re done here.”
I snorted. “So you just invited us over to get the waitress to ID Shepherd?”
“I’m never living this down, am I?” Gem scooted out of her seat. “Never, never! I’m going to hear about this for the next fifty years.”
Claude stood up and stretched. “Join the club. I still have to hear about the time I streaked through a supermarket.”
Gem chortled. “That wasn’t the funny part.”
He speared her with a hot glare as he put on his jacket.
“Tell me,” I said.
She poked her tongue between her teeth, a wide grin on her face. “He shielded his manlies with a box of Trix cereal.”
“They’re definitely not for kids,” he added. “Do you want a ride home?”
“Shepherd’s already hammered. I can’t leave him with the Jeep, so I’m the designated driver.”
“Don’t let him drink too much. See you at home.”
After they left, I switched seats to face the room and sent Christian a message.
Raven: Want to meet up for drinks?
Christian: The last time we drank, I lost a bet.
Raven: You’re missing out. Gem accused Shepherd of being the killer.
Christian: Better I stay at my bar and you stay at yours.
I wanted to tell him Shepherd was acting weird, but I let the conversation end.
My thoughts drifted back to dinner. That little kid was a good hider. I’d used my Mage ability to track down his energy, even though it was faint since he wasn’t a Mage. But he sparkled. Those intense emotions of happiness fluttered in the air like particles of light falling off a sparkler. He’d figured out how to take pictures, because he snapped one of me. I made a mental note to remind Shepherd to erase that picture.
And speaking of the devil, I watched Shepherd stumble to the table with half a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He filled each one, and even though I wasn’t a whiskey drinker, I accepted the offer.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked, noticing his change in demeanor. “Did you and Mr. Bane have a stimulating conversation tonight?”
He downed his entire glass and immediately refilled it. Shepherd was a big guy, just over six feet tall, and I was willing to bet I could bounce quarters off his biceps. He kept rubbing his hand across his short hair, his eyes squinty and not fixed on any one thing.
Shepherd gave me a refill and held up his glass. “To demons.”
Our glasses clinked together, and I took a small sip. “Is something bothering you?”
He lit up a cigarette and stared up at the wall behind me. “No matter what you do, the past always catches up with you. You wake up, brush your teeth, do heroic shit, make a sandwich, day after day after fucking day. Then all of a sudden, bam!” His fist slammed against the table and made me jump. “Resolve whatever shit you’ve got to resolve while you’re young.”
I set down my glass. “Easier said than done.”
He pointed at me, pupils dilated. “Truer words were never spoken.”
Shepherd’s speech was slurring more than usual. He liked drinking, but I’d never seen him this inebriated before. I wasn’t sure if something had triggered his drinking episode or if the alcohol had caused an old wound to reopen, but I knew that look. I’d been in that dark place where the only way to survive was to ignore or dull the pain.
Shepherd refilled his glass. “I used to be a nice guy. I could have been that guy.” He pointed at a table where a couple was sitting. “Guys like that don’t have a fucking clue what they have right in front of them. They just wake up and think their life is perfect.”
I remained quiet so he could have a moment to ramble. Even if his thoughts weren’t cohesive, he clearly needed to get something off his chest.
“Happiness is an optical illusion.”
“Maybe we should go home, where we can drink for free,” I suggested. “Give me your keys.”
He slowly shook his head. “Nobody drives my Jeep. I don’t need anyone stripping the gears. Paid good money.”
“Well, I could always call Viktor to come pick you up.”
A look of resignation crossed his face. Shepherd’s hands disappeared beneath the table as he leaned to the left, then to the right. He furrowed his brow. “I just had them on me.”
I searched around the table and on the floor. “Where did you go earlier?”
He pointed left, then right, then made a circle in the air.