Green-Eyed Envy by Kasey Mackenzie

loud, I said, “Yes, and what’s more, this killer seems to be preying upon one arcane race in particular.”
    This time his expression didn’t appear feigned. Apprehension made his mortal-seeming brown eyes flash unnatural yellow (not all Cats have green eyes in arcane form like Harper’s) and back again. “He’s killing Cats?”
    Typical to assume a serial killer was male, especially among law enforcement, but I took note that Meritton had assumed the same thing Harper did. “He or she.” He rolled his eyes, making it clear what he thought about that suggestion. “And not to unduly alarm you, Mr. Meritton—”
    The snake oil salesman slipped back into place. Complete with creepy, flirtatious smile turned my way. As if we were alone in the office—maybe even in the entire building. “Please, call me Paul.”
    I continued smoothly, though inside I was dying to look at Scott to see how he was reacting to Meritton’s not-at-allsubtle flirting right in front of him. “But we have reason to believe that you are at no small risk from this serial killer.”
    Another arched eyebrow. “And that reason would be?”
    “All three of the victims had one trait in common. One which you share as well. A past romantic relationship with the same woman.”
    Apprehension grew into outright fear. He pushed back in his chair, and a bead of sweat welled up on his forehead. “Wait. Are you telling me that all three of these men screwed the same woman? Someone I screwed as well?”
    Oh yeah, Mr. Charming had disappeared entirely in light of the revelation he actually could be associated with a murder investigation. “All four of you share an ex in common, yes.”
    “Who? What woman ”—he spat the word—“could possibly be worth killing over?”
    Scott shifted in his chair and I resisted the renewed urge to look at him. Boy, Meritton was on a roll here. Hitting on a Hound’s current lover, bad-mouthing a past lover . . . Not that the gorgeous but slimy man had any clue to either of those facts.
    “Does the name Harper Cruz ring a bell?”
    His sneer grew even more pronounced. “That whore is the reason three good men have died? Three Cats?”
    I slammed the low but solid heel of my red leather boot onto Scott’s foot to keep him from leaping across the desk. “Ms. Cruz”—I enunciated the Ms. —“is the thread tying all three victims together, yes. And we have every reason to believe this killer will strike again, that the killer is taking out exes of hers in chronological order, which means that you are at very high risk of being next.”
    The sneer disappeared entirely. Meritton licked his lips and took in a deep breath of air. For the first time since we entered, he turned his full attention on to Scott. “I want to hire you.” Well, guess he knew exactly who “Mr. Murphy” was. My lips trembled with threatened laughter, but I did the honorable thing and told him the MCU would be hiring Scott’s mercs to serve as bodyguards on his behalf.
    The two of them settled into the business of working out the exact timing and details and paid little ole me no heed, so I stood and wandered around the spacious room. Meritton’s assistant bustled in with gourmet cappuccinos—which I just had to sample so as not to appear rude—and then out again. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that took up an entire wall caught my eye. I set down the coffee mug and wandered closer, letting my eyes roam across the book spines. The typical business books you’d expect to find in a CEO’s office occupied one shelf. Books specific to the medical industry took up another. I browsed two more mundane shelves before coming across something much more interesting: esoteric arcane history books. Esoteric because I, big arcane history and cultural buff that I was, had only read a bare fraction of the books. Hell, I’d only even heard of a handful of the many I hadn’t read. My gaze went to the stillhaggling Meritton before settling back on the