Read [Kassandra Lyall Preternatural Investigator 03] - Bloody Claws for Free Online Page A

look. "Do you want me to make it so we will not?"
    I shook my head. "Nah, after so many years, that would be weird."
    She smiled slightly. "I shall follow your lead."
    "Good idea." I got out and slammed the car door shut.
    I ducked under the Do Not Cross tape, wondering if Lenorre could seriously use her vampire wiles and walk in and out of the crime scene completely undetected. The thought was just a little unnerving.
    Arthur met us in the front yard and led the way through the house.
    "In here," he said, and we stepped into what appeared to be the victim's master bedroom. The scene before me didn't match the signature of violence that hung in the air. Unlike the scenes in the photographs that Arthur had shown me, I didn't see or smell any blood, but just because I couldn't see or smell anything didn't mean anything. I could feel the tension in the air like the calm after a thunderstorm.
    "Martha is on her way," Arthur said.
    Martha Apostolos was the Chief Medical Examiner, and once she arrived on scene she'd be in charge of examining the body and collecting any evidence from it. I wasn't here to collect evidence to send back to a lab or to transport the body for further examination. That's not my area of expertise. I was here because I was supposed to help the cops figure out if this crime had anything to do with the preternatural and if so, how?
    Lenorre stood next to me. I took the pair of latex gloves that Arthur offered. I'd put my hair back before we'd left Lenorre's. If Forensics was going to be all over the place, I didn't want them accidentally picking up any DNA I shed.
    I went to the side of the bed.
    The victim was laid back against the pillows. She was clothed, wearing a light pink nightgown that ended just below her knees. Her dark brown hair spilled out against the white pillowcase. Her eyes were still open, wide and terrified in that last moment, glazed with death. Something a lot of people don't realize is that it's easier looking at a body when the victim's eyes aren't open. There's always something more peaceful about it, a part of the childish mind that can imagine they're only sleeping. But when they're not shut, that last second of life seems frozen, like a film stuck on the last frame.
    One thing I had noticed when we entered the bedroom was the small altar setup on a wooden dresser that was placed under the only window. The smell of some thick and cloying incense lingered, mingling with the soft and floral scent of soap on the body. She'd showered recently, though her hair was no longer wet.
    I examined the white sheets carefully.
    "Arthur," I said, as something caught my eye. He stepped up and I gestured toward the woman's leg.
    "Is that a burn mark?" he asked.
    The same mark I'd seen on the wall in the crime scene photographs was imprinted on the victim's leg, red and raw against her pale skin. I leaned closer to the body and realized it was a mistake. The smell of something musky and sour hit the back of my tongue.
    I called Lenorre's name and felt her move to the opposite side of me.
    "What can you smell?" I asked her.
    I watched as she drew in a deep breath, sorting through the scents in the room more obviously than I would've done in front of the nice policemen.
    "Incense," she said, "soap, fear, arousal…"
    "Arousal?" Arthur asked. "You can smell arousal and fear?"
    "Yes, Detective."
    "So if you smell arousal, does that mean you smell sex?"
    "'Tis probable," she said carefully.
    "Our victim was raped?" He was looking at me now.
    I touched the victim's wrist with my gloved fingers and the body was fresh enough to move easily. I turned the wrist and lowered it gently back to the bed. I got Arthur to move out of my way.
    "She was strangled," I said, noting the faint bruising that was beginning to blossom like a necklace around the victim's neck. "I can't tell you just by a glance if the victim was sexually assaulted. I don't see any bruising at the wrists, which you'd commonly find."
    "Not