Taste of Grief (Just One Bite #3) by Kay Glass Page A

actually read minds. People's thoughts, every
thought and every emotion are yours for the taking if you but wish to know it.
I only read emotions, intent. I don't know their thoughts- I just know whether
people are good or bad at heart."
    Diandra heard the sincerity in his voice and felt ashamed.
Was this really how people felt about her? Was she really that intrusive? She
tried hard not to walk around just randomly reading minds and talking into
them. She only bothered when people were pushing their thoughts too hard in her
direction. Was she wrong to do so? Maybe they deserved more privacy than that.
    She stopped the cyclic pattern of her musing when she felt
Adrian's hand on her arm. She locked eyes with him- lilac to those green ones-
and he spoke. "The fact that you doubt whether it's ethical or not means
you do not abuse your gifts. If you abused them then you would simply shrug off
my words and be done with it," he said gently.
    Diandra nodded, though her movements were a bit wooden.
"Will you teach me about your religion?" she asked. "Will you
show me your altar?"
    Adrian smiled at her, and it was warm and amused. "I
will do so, but not tonight. Tonight you're tired- I can see it in your eyes.
Why not go join Lizbeth in bed? I'll clean everything up down here and retire
for the night myself. Is that all right?"
    Diandra measured her feelings against his words and decided
he was right. She said good night, and followed his suggestion. Stripping down
for the night, she climbed into bed beside her sleeping lover, kissed her
shoulder, and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

 
Chapter
Eleven
    When Lizbeth arrived at work the next morning the latest
OD's toxicology reports were in, along with his medical records. She walked
into Alexar's office and slapped them down on the desk in front of him,
victorious. "He's a match. The latest body is a match for the other six
after all. The drug in his system was the same drug- same potency, same
everything. It's preliminary findings, sure, but so far it's a perfect
match."
    Alexar glared up at her out of tired eyes. He wore the same
rumpled clothes he'd had on yesterday, and a blanket lay rumpled on the couch
in his office. His desk was a mess and his coffee, normally black and steaming,
was cold with several rings around the inside of the mug, implying it was cold
and had sat for God only knew how long. "What about the medical records?
The others had never used- this guy had previous marks up and down both arms.
He's not a newbie."
    "Ah, but he was," Lizbeth corrected. She flipped
open his medical records and laid the toxicology report out as well. "He
was a very sick man. He'd been through multiple hospitalizations because of
Hepatitis C. He'd apparently received a blood transfusion in the late 80's and
contracted it. He had a liver transplant a few years ago, and he's still being
monitored. The marks on his arms are from all the testing he's had to deal
with."
    Lizbeth put the toxicology report on top of the medical
records. "This shows no other drugs in his system but for his
anti-rejection medication and a steroid to help prevent organ rejection. He was
clean, Alexar."
    He leaned forward, running his fingers through his already
tousled hair. "Okay, so we're up to seven. Seven bodies, nothing in
common. They didn't work the same job, visit the same gym, nor did they have
the same doctor, nothing. Their ages were different, their race, even their
marital status varied. So what do we do now?" He took a sip of his cold
coffee, grimaced, and set the mug on the corner of his desk, far out of his
reach.
    Lizbeth walked to his coffee maker and started a fresh pot.
"Maybe we're going about this the wrong way. Maybe instead of
cross-referencing the victims like we've been doing we should be looking into
the cocaine distribution. Maybe bring in all known coke dealers, shake them, and
see what they know."
    Alexar nodded thoughtfully, and then wiped his tired eyes.
"Yeah, I guess that's