Shards of Venus Read online

  Copyright © 2019 by Tjalara Draper

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any physical form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  To Kevy Wevy Woo Woo

  My rock, my joy and my best friend.

  Thank you so much for believing in me and for reading this book even though you don’t like fantasy and think I spend too much time with “my silly dragons and fairies.”

  Love you forever.

  x x x

  Contents

  1. Creating Cold Cases

  2. Assaulted Taste Buds

  3. Stupid Rose

  4. Angry Pixies

  5. There You Are

  6. That Chandelier

  7. What Do You Want, Blondie?

  8. Shark Grin

  9. Psycho Death Grip

  10. Cinnamon And Salt

  11. No More Psycho Crazy

  12. Cheap-Ass Steak Knife

  13. Handbook For Gentlemen

  14. Aphrodite

  15. Greedy With The “Crazy” Title

  16. I’d Rather Be A Piñata

  17. Dancing Trees

  18. Venus Dimples

  19. Blood, Breath, And . . . Bones?

  20. I’m Very Pervable

  21. Slivers Of Glass

  22. Don’t Get Angry, Okay?

  23. Twisted Games

  24. Come At Me, Slith

  25. Diamond Smeared With Blood

  26. Seh’vuthi

  27. Spiced Rice

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  1

  Creating Cold Cases

  Nathan Delano wandered through the dim cabin’s living room, careful to watch his step. Police lights flashed garishly off countless crimson puddles and smears as he greeted each uniformed Erathi in turn.

  Humans, he reminded himself, shaking his head. Even after all these years, the word Erathi still leaped to mind first.

  Detective Judith Walker was inspecting a bedroom door’s heavy bolt mechanism with a gloved hand. When she noticed him nearby, she waved him over.

  “Hey, Jude,” he said, sweeping his gaze once more over the room. “What’s the situation?”

  “Hey, Delano.” She yanked off her glove with a snap and gestured to a black body bag being zipped up by a paramedic. “One deceased teenage girl.”

  “Do we know who?”

  “Yeah. It’s the missing Branstone girl.” Jude handed him her phone. “Here, have a look. I took these when I arrived.”

  Nathan swiped through Jude’s photos, immediately recognizing the blonde victim, Lyla-Rose Branstone. In grisly contrast with the wide smile from the yearbook photo in her case file, her eyes were open and glazed. Four horrific grooves were carved into the side of her head, running from behind her ear to her chin. The ear itself had been sliced clean through in several places.

  “Check this out.” Jude reached across him to zoom into the area between the victim’s neck and shoulder. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that was some weird bite mark.”

  Six bloodied puncture wounds formed an incomplete arc with a gap at the peak, which fell just below Lyla’s left collarbone. The inner two marks were the smallest, while the middle ones were about the width of a ballpoint pen.

  Nathan’s chest tightened. No. Not here. Not in Brookhaven. Only one species made that distinct bite mark: his own race, the Veniri.

  And he’d spent the last fifteen years hiding from them.

  “Any weapons found?” Nathan asked, hoping Jude wouldn’t notice the deflection.

  She shook her head. “Nothing. At least, not yet. An abandoned vehicle was located down the road. I’ve sent an officer to go over it. I’ve yet to check out the surroundings myself.”

  Nathan nodded and handed back her phone. “What about witnesses?”

  “The owner of this cabin lives farther down the hill. He and his wife were about to go to bed when they heard screaming coming from this direction. He came to investigate and dialed nine-one-one straight away when he found the victim.”

  A muscle twitched in Nathan’s jaw. “Did he see anything else? Maybe catch a glimpse of who did this?”

  She shook her head. “Whoever else was here cleared out by the time he—” A melodic tune from Jude’s phone cut her off. “It’s one of my kids,” she said, glancing at the screen. She gave Nathan an apologetic look.

  He gestured for her to answer. “I’ve got this.”

  “Thanks, Nathan.” She patted his shoulder before quickly accepting the call and making a beeline for the exit. “Hi, sweetie . . . ?”

  As the two paramedics with the body bag followed her out, Nathan turned back to the room. Time to set to work.

  The quaint shack was likely several generations old, possibly built by one of the owner’s ancestors. Knitted and patchwork throw rugs added a cozy touch, or at least, they would have if they hadn’t been lying crumpled among splintered furniture. A decorative gun rack was mounted on one of the exposed timber walls, along with a collection of animal heads on plaques: deer, foxes, a bear, a zebra, and a tiger. Nathan had never understood the human desire for trophies, the need to display bits and pieces of their targets with pride.

  With deliberate precision, he picked his way through the chaos, taking in the details of each gouge, splatter, and smear of blood and periodically snapping a few photos of his own. His boots thunked with each step on the timber floorboards. When he reached the open back door, a gust of icy wind bit into his face and neck, and he raised his collar and tightened his jacket. Peering into the darkness, he sucked in a deep breath of the cold night air.

  A familiar tingle crept under his tongue.

  He glanced back, ensuring none of the remaining officers were paying attention. The tingle grew into a fierce prickle as he allowed the simple transformation to take its course.

  Within seconds, a forked tongue shot out from between his lips like a whip, then flicked back into his mouth. He assessed the night’s aromas and flavors, a lingering bouquet of potent scents from the evening’s activities.

  The Veniri ability to scent someone’s essence, or their soul-scent, was something Nathan heavily relied on for his Erathi work as a detective. Deducing the inner workings of a crime scene was so much easier when he could scent the residual intentions and emotions of the moment. But with all the extra cops, paramedics, and civilians traipsing through this area over the last hour, this time he would need more than his tongue to isolate the information he needed.

  He scanned the stars. They were almost startlingly luminous, but none were brighter than Venus, sparkling straight ahead through the silhouetted tree branches. Nathan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, basking in the Venusian beams.

  Beneath his closed lids, thin membranes glided over both his eyes. When he blinked them open again, the scenery before him was still drenched in darkness—until he flicked out his forked tongue. This time, the soul-trails illuminated like phosphorescent tendrils of smoke, gleaming wisps against the black of night. Each one glowed a different hue of the rainbow, leading into the forest beyond.

  The leaf litter crackled and crunched beneath his feet as he stepped out of the shack. The trails started to fade but pulsed back to life with another flick of his tongue. With each taste of the air, he processed the flavors
infused in each soul-trail, gathering valuable data.

  After a few moments of walking, his boot kicked against something. He slid back the inner membranes of his eyes and pulled out his flashlight. The incandescent beam revealed a man in a hoodie and jeans, lying in a heap. Next to him, about a foot away, another person lay sprawled on the ground—a teenage girl. Patches of deep red speckled her clothing.

  When his flashlight beam caught her face, he swore under his breath. Another kid from one of his case files. Violet Chambers, 16 years of age. Legal guardians: Norman and Connie Hopkins. Address: 42 Daisy Crescent. Missing. Last seen approx 11:15 p.m. on Thursday, July 18.

  Her dark brown hair was matted with blood, dirt, and leaves. Compared to the photo, her features were hollow. Muddied cuts and bruises covered most of her face, and her right eye was almost indiscernible from the surrounding swelling.

  Nathan hung his head, covering his face with his hand and wearily rubbing his temples. After a few breaths, he reached down to her neck to look for a pulse.

  A faint beat tapped against his fingers.

  Nathan hurriedly retraced his steps back to the shack, careful to avoid jostling the young girl in his arms. Violet gave a low groan.

  “Hold tight,” he said. “We’re nearly there.”

  He barged through the back door and straight out the front. “I need a paramedic!”

  Jude’s attention snapped to him. She let out a gasp, eyes wide, then barked out some orders. Within seconds, two paramedics wheeled over a stretcher. Nathan laid down his bundle and stepped back, giving the paramedics space to perform their flurry of choreographed procedures.

  The next few moments were a blur as he recounted to Jude what he’d found, leaving out his discovery of the second body. He’d hastily cleared it out of view, but he would have to clean that mess up soon—before anyone found it and started asking questions. Especially Jude.

  His jaw tensed as he studied her. Her chin was resting on one hand in her signature thoughtful pose. He could almost see her mental processes breaking down and analyzing the new pieces of evidence he’d provided. Her intelligence and intuition always impressed him; it was what made her such a great cop. It was also what made him work overtime to keep her in the dark. She could never know who was responsible for this hellish mayhem. Her life would be in danger, not to mention his own.

  He scoffed. Who was he kidding? His life had been in danger for years now.

  His derisive snort broke Jude’s trance. She shook her head and focused back on him. “Sorry for zoning out. Just thinking.”

  He gave her a knowing smile but didn’t reply.

  “Here.” She reached into the car Nathan was leaning on and pulled out a red vacuum flask. “Have some coffee. It might still be hot.”

  He took a sip, cringed, and forced himself to gulp down the bitter, lukewarm liquid. “Ugh, maybe a little sugar next time.” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

  “No time for sugar,” said Jude, drawing a long mouthful from the flask.

  Over her shoulder, Nathan noticed one of the paramedics waving to him. “Coffee break’s over. We’re being summoned.”

  They headed over to the ambulance, and Nathan nodded a greeting to the paramedic by the stretcher. “How’s the vic?”

  “She’s awake and stable for now. We’ve given her a dose of morphine to help with the pain until we can get her to the hospital.”

  Nathan nodded. “Mind if I ask her a few questions?”

  The paramedic shrugged. “You can try. You might be able to get something out of her, but maybe not much tonight.”

  Nathan stepped closer to the girl. “How ya doing, kid? You warm enough?”

  She looked up at him with wide, glassy eyes.

  “Your name’s Violet, isn’t it?”

  After some hesitation and a quick glance at Jude, she nodded.

  “Violet, can you tell me what happened?”

  No answer.

  “Can you tell us who did this to you?” Jude asked.

  Nathan’s stomach churned at her question. Violet’s expression grew distant. Finally, she shook her head and looked away.

  Nathan relaxed. “It’s okay, Violet. You’re safe.”

  One of her hands clenched the top of her silver foil blanket. Dry blood was caked under her fingernails, and half the nail of her index finger had been completely torn off. Her knuckles were shredded and bloodied. Whatever had happened to this kid, she’d certainly fought hard to defend herself.

  Nathan’s mind raced, imagining the horrors she must have faced as she screamed and begged her attacker to stop. A fiery rage boiled in the pit of his stomach. His elbows started to burn as the screams in his mind grew louder and louder. A slicing sensation replaced the burning in his elbows, and he felt the sleeves of his jacket beginning to tear. He needed to regain control of himself, fast.

  But the female face screaming in his mind was no longer Violet’s. It morphed into—

  Stop it! Nathan slammed his eyes shut and turned his face away from Violet. He took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to relax until the blades in his elbows melted back into his flesh.

  He turned back to the girl. “Violet—”

  “He had a tattoo,” she said in a raspy voice.

  Shock gripped him. Her gray-blue eyes captured his with sudden, sharp intensity.

  “A tattoo? What kind of tattoo?” Jude asked, taking out her phone.

  Violet’s next words were slow and deliberate. “He had a tattoo of a crystal scorpion, right here.” She pointed to the side of her neck.

  Nathan furrowed his brow and scratched his head.

  “Are you sure?” Jude asked, tapping more notes into her phone.

  Violet nodded.

  “Was he a friend of yours?” asked Jude.

  “I . . .” She screwed her face up, clamping her eyes closed. After a few heartbeats, she let out a quiet sob. “I . . . don’t . . . I can’t remember.”

  “That’s okay,” Jude said gently.

  Violet turned toward Nathan, a tear rolling down her swollen cheek. “I don’t know who he is,” she whispered.

  “It’s okay, Violet.” He gave her a soft pat on the shoulder.

  Silver foil crinkled as she gripped the thermal blanket with both hands, her whole body shaking with silent sobs. Tears carved clean trails through the blood and grime on her face.

  “That’s enough for now,” said the paramedic. “We’ve kept her here too long already. We should get her to the hospital.”

  Nathan and Jude stepped to the side as Violet was wheeled into the back of the ambulance. The lights flashed on, and the engine roared to life.

  Jude let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose we should go process the area where you found—” Once again, her ringtone cut her off. She checked her watch and clicked her tongue. “It’s my kid again. She’s been really sick, and with the long hours I’ve been doing lately . . .”

  “It’s okay, Jude. If you need to head home, just go.”

  Jude pursed her lips. “I really shouldn’t.”

  “Yeah, go on. Your kids need you.” He patted her on the shoulder. “You’ve been here longer than me anyway. I’ll deal with this mess.”

  She hesitated. “You sure you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all.” He steered her toward her car. “Get home and kiss those kids goodnight.”

  Jude gave him a weary smile and stood up a little straighter, as if a heavy burden had been lifted off her shoulders. “Thanks, Nathan. I can always count on you.”

  Two hours later, Nathan stood at the side of his car, watching the last police vehicle pull away from the scene. As soon as its taillights drowned in the night, he ducked under the police tape and walked back toward the cabin.

  Time to shut this investigation down.

  As much as he hated tampering with the evidence, cases involving shifters were better left to go cold. What Jude didn’t know couldn’t keep her and her kids awake at night.

  He needed to
get rid of the second body, but first, there was something else he needed to do. Violet had remembered a tattoo, and if she saw it again, all hell would break loose.

  The wind whipped around him as he squinted into the inky blackness of the cabin. Nothing. Blinking, he raised his face to the heavens and, like before, sought out Venus. The radiant evening star sang to him in a faint melody only he could hear, and his body responded, his inner eyelids once again hazing into existence.

  He flicked out his tongue, and the darkness flooded with colored phosphorescent mists, each hue of the glowing rainbow alive with its own collection of flavors. The ethereal light began to fade but, with another flick, pulsed back to vivid clarity.

  Like a bloodhound, he followed the trails, veering left or right according to the prompting of his forked tongue. But unlike a bloodhound, instead of odors, he followed emotions and intentions, desires and interests, the distinct medley that makes up a being’s very soul.

  He gradually filtered out the familiar scents of Jude and the other officers and paramedics, reducing the rainbow to fewer colors. Soon he’d isolated Violet’s and the deceased girl’s scents as well and also filtered them out. Only a handful of trails remained.

  He called on his internal Venusian energy and, like blowing out a foggy breath in winter, expelled some of it into the remaining trails, brightening and sharpening them against the dark. Clouds of the subtle light had gathered in various areas. These were echoes of moments past—snapshots of the subject’s strongest emotion. With another gust of Venusian energy, he channeled his attention on these places until misty faces came into focus within. He inspected each one until he found what he was looking for.