[Kassandra Lyall Preternatural Investigator 03] - Bloody Claws by Winter Pennington Page B

coldness of sea fog.
    "Can you tell what it is?" I asked.
    She sniffed it again. "Unfortunately, no," she said.
    "If it's not human, could it be animal?" I asked.
    "It'd have to be a freaking horse for this much blood," Arthur said.
    "You would be surprised, Detective," Lenorre said, pinning him with her silvery gaze. "I cannot determine what or who the blood belongs to by smell alone."
    "What if you tasted it?" Arthur asked.
    "Arthur!"
    "What?" He shot me a confused look. "It's just a question."
    "Possibly," Lenorre said, "However, I would rather not."
    "Why not? It's just blood and you're a vampire."
    "Arthur, your etiquette sucks worse than mine and that's saying something," I said.
    "What's so rude about me asking her to taste the blood?"
    Lenorre was growing more still by the minute.
    I intercepted before she could give him an answer. "She's a Countess, Arthur."
    "So?"
    "Uh," Reeves dove into the conversation, and Arthur and I turned to look at him. "I think what she's trying to say is that what you're asking is like someone asking the Queen of England to eat a sandwich off the sidewalk."
    "Yeah." I turned back to Arthur. "That."
    He shook his head and raised his hands. "Fine. Sorry I asked. So if you don't think it's human, what is it?"
    "There are numerous possibilities," Lenorre said calmly. "It could be human-like. It could be animal-"
    "Wait, human-like?" Arthur asked.
    "It could be a shape-shifter," Lenorre answered, "Elf, fey…"
    Arthur actually grunted. "But you could find out what it is if you tasted the blood?"
    I snatched the swab out of Lenorre's hands and held it in front of his face.
    "You want to taste it?"
    "No."
    "Then stop it," I said. "You asked for help. I brought help. This"-I raised it closer and he took a step back-"is not a vampiric lollipop. Get off it, Arthur."
    I dropped the swab in the trash sack.
    There was a noise, a noise like someone was about to choke. I looked at Arthur. He laughed, loud and hard, laughed until he was clutching his sides. Reeves chuckled too, as if the laughter were contagious.
    Lenorre met my gaze. The corner of her mouth curling slightly.
    "What?"
    Arthur took a deep rasping breath, "Vampiric lollipop," he said. "I will never in my life forget that."
    I frowned.
    "Where are you going?" Arthur asked.
    "Away," I said, pausing only briefly in the doorway.
    He caught up with me in the hallway. "No, you're on a mission."
    I looked at him, going wide around the bloodstain. "I want to see something."
    I moved past the entertainment center with its Greek statues, past the onlooking cops and forensics team, through the dining room, and finally into the kitchen. Marble counter top, sink in one corner, dishwasher, fridge, gas stove… I searched the pale green linoleum floor tile by tile. I opened a door that I thought led outside, but instead, the door led into a laundry room. A top load washer and dryer were placed beneath high cabinets. I moved around the washer and dryer, scanning the floor and opening the cabinets. Still, I found nothing. I opened another door, but this one led into the garage. My night vision took over as I scanned the wall, then I hit the light switch to my right. The garage was flooded in a soft yellow glow. There was a workbench on the far wall. A line of hooks on the wall held a shovel, weed-eater, what looked like a sprinkler, a broom, and a mop. I sensed more than saw Arthur and Lenorre standing in the doorway. They watched me in silence as I rounded the wooden workbench. A ladder hung on its own lone hooks on the opposite wall.
    "Have they checked to see if anything is missing? Potential weapon?"
    "They're looking into it," Arthur said.
    The gray stone floor had a ghostly spot, like a faint memory that had been cleaned one too many times from a car that had leaked oil. I followed the walls, peeking behind boxes, an old stereo. There, in the corner between the door I'd come in and the door I was certain led into the backyard, was a large bag of dog