They pulled up in front of a small yellow house with a triangle roof squished between two others just like it. The yard out front was almost non-existent, but the small house had a cute charm about it. They got out of the SUV and walked up the stairs to the green front door, which actually looked flattering against the yellow siding. Brayden raised a fist and knocked. That’s when she realized just how nice his hands looked. As his hand fell back down at his side, her gaze followed. He had nice hands. Manly, with just a bit of dark hair on them and long fingers and short, cut nails. He had the kind of hands a woman wanted all over her body.

The door opened a minute later after some shuffling inside, and then a skinny man only a few inches taller than she answered. She inhaled and smelled the scent that could only be vampire. The scent could only be described as…sweetly coppery. Even Brayden held a ting of it, but his more natural, masculine scent pervaded over that one. The other man had thinning hair, and a salt and pepper moustache that matched the color of what hair he had left on his head.

“Brayden,” said the man.

“Daniel,” Brayden replied.

Daniel stepped to the side and ushered them into a small living area. The floors were all wood, the walls white and plain, and there was only one sofa—a black leather sectional across from a TV. The room almost looked empty. No pictures on the walls, no added decoration of any kind, unless that white throw over the couch counted. With only the sectional as furniture, they all sat on it, which put Vanessa right up against Brayden. Their thighs touched and the heat of him warmed her leg. It took some effort, but she managed to keep her eyes from studying the fitness of his leg encased in his suit pants. She’d bet they were hard and muscular, that they’d bunch and flex when he moved.

“Are you all right?” Brayden asked her.

Her wide eyes lifted to his. “What?”

“You’re flushed. You okay?” He looked so concerned, that she just nodded mutely.

Daniel sat on the L portion of the sectional, his knees bent with his elbows resting on them. “Well, let’s get on with this. I’ve got plans today.”

Brayden laid into him. That was the only way she could describe it. He nailed Daniel with question after question about the night of Mary Brunes’ death. Why wasn’t King Brunes interviewed hard? Why wasn’t anyone from the household interviewed to see if there’d been any problems in the marriage? On and on it went. The questions actually started easy and simple and Daniel answered readily. Then, Brayden asked harder, his voice giving no room for blathering lies. He’d interrupt Daniel, then make him repeat exactly what he said, even going so far as to trip Daniel up. She watched all of this with wide-eyed fascination and a bit of admiration.

Finally, Daniel snapped. “Listen; one doesn’t question the King of the lykaen community. Do you know what that man is capable of? Whom his connections are?”

At this, Brayden tensed, just a tightening of his leg against hers that Daniel couldn’t see. “Are you saying you purposely didn’t press him because of his status?”

Daniel scrubbed a hand through the back of his stringy hair, shaking his head. “I’m saying, that I’m not a dumb man. I did my job. There was water in her lungs. He said she fell in while he was below deck fixing them dinner. When he came back up, she was gone. I stand by me decision. It was a cut and dried case.”

“Yeah, well did you know she’d planned on leaving him? That he’d been pissed about that? That gives him motive, Daniel.”

Daniel’s mouth opened, then floundered closed. He shook his head raggedly. “Man, the case is over, closed. It’s been done for years. Just leave it be.”

Brayden stood and she felt awkward sitting down, so she stood, too. “Since you led the investigation, and I use that term loosely here, then you must know that the Givens family who fished her body out of the water said they saw bruising along her face. Like she’d been hit.”

Daniel grumbled then said, “Yeah, well, maybe she hit her head on the boat when she fell.”

“The bruising also wasn’t listed in her autopsy report.”

Daniel stiffened, then crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing on Brayden. “Then, I think you need to talk to the medical examiner. I had shit to do with that and you know it. Who’s to say what the Givens actually saw, anyway? It was dark when they fished her out of the water; could have been the lighting or some mud or anything else on her face and that’s why it wasn’t on her autopsy report.”

“And you, detective, also know that this could be a cover-up.”

“Oh hell, just get out of here, will you. You’re meddling in closed cold case that doesn’t need to be re-opened, Brayden.”

Brayden grabbed her hand and she tried not to get excited, but she couldn’t help it. The warmth and strength of his hand surrounded hers as he led her to the front door. He turned back at the last second. “I’ll be in touch.”

Outside, Vanessa pulled herself into the passenger seat, then turned to Brayden once he got himself inside. “Do you think he did it?”

“It’s hard to say. What I do know, is the investigation was shoddy, at best.”

“What if he did kill her?” she whispered.

He turned the engine over with a grumbling roar. “Then, I’m going to catch him.”

The following day, she awoke feeling better than she had before. This time she actually recognized her surroundings. She showered and changed into one of her new outfits, a white V-cut shirt and a pair of fitted jeans which clung all the way down to her ankles. She found herself fluffing out her wavy hair and taking care to make sure she looked fine before she headed downstairs.

Brayden was nowhere to be found so she made herself a quick sandwich and scarfed it down. Belly full, she made her way around his house. She still hadn’t gotten a chance to see the entire place—and her curious side really wanted to see what kinds of things Brayden the Justicar vampire liked.

As she wondered through the house touching his vases and little black statues of horses and figures of men and women, she thought about the kiss they’d shared. Everything had been perfect, better than she could have hoped it to be, until he’d ordered her to get off him. But damn, did he have a nice mouth. She wanted to spend time there, to bite and lick him until his taste was as familiar to her as her own. Not that he’d let her do that.

Get off me, Vanessa.

Right; utter humiliation. At least, they both seemed to have a silent understanding that neither one of them would talk about that kiss. Nope, it has been swept under the rug. He hadn’t brought it up, and she sure wasn’t going to. He either hadn’t like it, even though it’d made her body wet, and burn, or he just thought so little of her, he didn’t want to be kissing her. God, she didn’t know which was worse. The latter, probably.

She still hadn’t seen him around the house. She made her way into his study and found it empty. She took her time browsing his bookshelf, finding an assortment of classics from Hemingway to Plato. At the far end of the bookcase, in the corner of the room, she found something special though. Two whole shelves lined with first editions of, of all things, Arthurian knight tales. From Le Morte d’Arthur, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, to Tristan and Isolde, and many more.

Le Morte d’Arthur caught her attention first. There were three books, each lined in order with the number one, two, and three on it. The covers were white with gold engraving on the spine with a lovely leafy design that went under the title down to the bottom. It looked expensive and it was probably worth more than she could dream, so she gently put the book back. She didn’t breathe easy until the book rested neatly back against its brothers.