Blood Hunt Read Free Page B

the croissants as if she hadn’t eaten in an age.
    I grabbed a chocolate croissant to show her the way and bit into it immediately. The taste—butter and chocolate and flaky sweet goodness burst onto my tongue. I did not moan, but it was a close thing.
    She sniffled, used the edge of the tissue in her hand to swipe at the moisture on her face and to give a good hard blow of her nose, then dropped it into the wastebasket and reached for one of the plain pastries. It was a good thing, I thought, that I wasn’t the germaphobe Jesus was. I could just picture his reaction.
    But once grabbed, all she did was hold the croissant in her hand. I half feared she’d forget it wasn’t the tissue and we’d have a big ole mess on our hands.
    â€œDo you want to tell me about it?” I asked.
    The girl’s eyes filled with tears again.
    â€œWhy don’t we start with your name?”
    â€œJessica,” she said. “Jessica Roland.”
    That zing from back at the coffee shop struck again and I knew instantly where I’d heard the name Rolandbefore…the teletype about the Hollywood Hill murders.
    â€œAnd you’re here today because…” I prompted.
    â€œBecause of my parents,” she said, finishing my sentence on a sob. As I’d feared, she started to raise the croissant to her face. I quickly dropped my own like a hot potato in order to head her off with the offer of another tissue.
    The Hollywood Hill murders… Allowing Jessica a moment to compose herself gave me all the time I needed to imagine just how overjoyed Nick would be about my interfering with his new case. He’d be positively giddy.
    But Jessica had made her appointment yesterday. Before the killings. Or at least before the bodies had been found. Maybe this was about something else? Inheritance or…
    â€œWhat about them?” I asked gently.
    â€œThey’re dead. Murdered,” she said, holding my gaze, the tissue unused in her hand. “And…and the worst is…I think my brothers did it.”
    And I thought I had problems.
    â€œExplain?”
    She took a huge sip of her soy latte first for sustenance. “I mean, not them exactly,” she said, looking away, “but… Let me start at the beginning.”
    â€œThat’s usually best,” I said. I could imagine Jesus rolling his eyes at me for that, but I wasn’t trying to be a smart aleck…not this time anyway.
    Jessica stood with her coffee and paced as she talked. “I called yesterday because… Look, this is going to sound crazy, but someone told me you sometimes handle things…a little outside the box.”
    I nodded to encourage her to continue. There was no point in denying what was, especially when it was so severely understated. Gods, plague demons, dragons, apocalypsi…or whatever the plural might be of apocalypse… Yes, we certainly handled things outside the box…Pandora’s Box, specifically.
    She took a deep breath. “Here’s the thing. Ian and Richie got back just this past weekend from the graduation trip my parents sent them on to Egypt. My brothers had always been fascinated with it. Ian was even planning on going to college for archaeology, Richie probably for the drinking. Anyway, the thing is, they came back…different. I don’t know how to describe it. They’ve always been trouble. Not bad, just…they don’t really have any impulse control. If something occurs to them, it has to be done…right that instant. Especially if it’s new or exciting or dangerous. Mom and Dad have always had the influence or the money to get them out of any trouble they’ve gotten into. Still, they’ve always been fun-loving and have always looked out for me as their little sister. Well, not little , but younger.”
    â€œBut now?”
    â€œWhen they came back, they were…scary. Different. Ian said… I don’t even want to