Kate Daniels 01 - Magic Bites

wooden surface of the table.
    “Oh, boy,” I said. “How do you fluff your pillows at night?”
    Corwin licked his canines at me and glanced at Curran. “I like this one.”
    “Let’s start,” I said.
    “You haven’t asked me what I am.” Corwin tapped the table with his claws.
    “I’ll figure it out.” The familiar words from the long sessions at the Academy resurfaced. “I’m Kate Daniels. I’m a lawful and documented representative of the Order. I’m investigating a murder and you are one of the suspects. With me so far?”
    “Yes,” Corwin said.
    “I’m here to question you with the purpose of establishing or eliminating you as a primary suspect. If you’ve committed this murder, you may incriminate yourself by answering my questions. I can’t compel you to answer.”
    “He can,” Corwin said in his scratchy voice, nodding toward Curran.
    “That’s between you and him. Just as long as we are clear that I can’t force you to cooperate.”
    “We clear, sweetheart.”
    I flashed him a smile. “The information you provide today is confidential but not privileged.”
    “What do that means?”
    “It means,” Curran said, “that she’ll keep it to herself but she’ll have to give it up if subpoenaed by court.”
    “He’s right.” I looked at Corwin. “I must also warn you that if you murdered Greg Feldman, I’ll try my best to kill you.”
    Corwin leaned back and a strange gurgling rumble emanated from his throat. A moment later I realized he was laughing.
    “I understand,” he said, his irises shining with green.
    “Let’s begin then. Have you taken any part, directly or indirectly, in the murder of Greg Feldman?”
    “No.”
    I hit all of the major points. He knew what was in the papers and nothing more. He had never met Greg or the vamp in question. He had no idea why anyone would try to kill them. He did not know who Ghastek was.
    “Would you be willing to donate some tissue for an m-scan?” I asked finally.
    “Tissue?”
    “Blood, spit, urine, hair. Something I can scan.”
    He leaned forward with a low murmur in his throat. “I could donate something to you. Something other than blood and spit.”
    I leaned to him until our gazes crossed. “Thanks,” I said. “But I’m not available.”
    “Mated?”
    “No. Busy.”
    “You won’t stay busy forever.”
    On impulse I reached and scratched him under the chin. He closed his eyes and purred. “There are werecats,” I said.
    “Yeeeees.” He turned to offer my fingers better access to his chin.
    “And then there are cat-weres.”
    His eyes opened just a tiny bit, and green shone through the slits.
    “Born an animal . . .” I said.
    “And now I am man,” he continued, turning again so my fingers would scratch a farther point on his jaw. “A man-lynx. I like to read. And human females are often in heat.”
    “Do you still hunt among the trees when the moon is out, lynx?” I asked softly.
    “Come to the Wood at night,” he said. “And you’ll find out.”
    I sat back. “Do you have an m-scanner?”
    “We have a portable,” Curran said.
    “That will be fine.”
    I waited until they brought the portable out. Even the portable scanner weighed over eighty pounds. A single woman carried it in and sat it in the corner, a large construction of metal and wood that resembled a sewing machine which had undergone a Celtic-warrior battle-warp. The woman examined it critically, picked it up with one hand and moved it a few inches farther from the wall. Strength was something the shapechangers had in abundance.
    “You know how to work it?” the woman asked me. I nodded, took the glass tray from the scanner’s storage compartment, and smiled at Corwin. “About that hair sample?”
    He held his sideburn taut and flashed his claws. A clump of reddish hair fell into the tray. I put it onto the examining platform. Green beams flashed and the printer whirred. Finally it stopped and the slip of paper slid from the slot. I pulled it. The lines were there, a series of short, faint slashes of color. But in the wrong place. I twisted the paper, trying to get the right angle of light. Light yellow-green. No match. There goes my only suspect.
    “Are you satisfied?” Curran asked.
    “Yes. He’s clear.”
    Obeying Curran’s nod, Corwin rose and left.
    “We agreed to a trade,” Curran said.
    “I remember. What can I do for you?”
    Curran looked to the open door and Derek staggered in, unsteady on his feet. He