Page 23 of Shadow Hunter

She raised a brow. “What are we doing here?”

He reached for the handle, refusing to look toward her. “Stay in the car.”

“Like hell I will.” She grabbed onto his sleeve, forcing him to turn and face her.

“We’ve been through this, Tiffany.”

“You may be through with it, but I’m sure as hell not.”

Damon sighed, long and heavy, before he cast an exasperated look toward her. “If I said I’m working a case and you could come inside as long as you promise to behave, would you listen?”

She grinned wickedly. “I can be a good girl.” She batted her lashes. “Promise.”

Damon growled in warning, but for a moment, she thought she saw a hint of appreciation in his gaze. Maybe hedidwant to play with her after all.

She leaned back in her seat, considering him once more. “I’d be more inclined than when you’re ordering me around for no reason, I mean,” she said, using her hands to form a little halo above her head as she cast him an innocent expression.

Damon fixed her with a hard stare, his eyes seeming to speak volumes that she didn’t understand, before abruptly, he exited the car. He pressed the unlock button.

With a squeal of delight, she scrambled after him, eager for more information as she struggled to keep her cool. She’d never been part of an official case before. She’d only worked to avenge her family’s deaths, and always alone. Sure, she’d killed othervamps in the process, helping one innocent soul or another, but she had never worked a real live case. Had never been able to continue Mark’s legacy in any official way.

But apparently there was a first time for everything.

And as for her new grumbling ice-eyed partner?

Her eyes shot toward him as she joined him beside the car. Well, that was something she could get used to.

6

Dead was an awful smell to get used to. The scent of formaldehyde hit Damon’s nose as he and Tiffany slipped into the morgue. He had to admit, Tiffany had proved helpful. After picking a few locks and then batting her eyes a few times to clear things with security, they were able to enter the morgue with relative ease. More than he could have managed alone.

The reflective silver surfaces and sharp, sterilized instruments laid out on tray tables made the room as cold as the chilled air around them. Tiffany coughed and covered her face with her sleeve. Damon may have been new to town, but he was used to the smells and sights of the morgue like this. He’d shadowed some of the world’s most elite vampire slayers for the past several years. The smell of dead bodies no longer churned his stomach, though the thought of all the children in the silver drawers lining the walls did.

There was nothing worse than working on a case involving kids. The fact that Jane Doe was on the older side of childhood didn’t make it any easier. So much for sweet sixteen.

Tiffany was about to learn that the hard way.

He walked to the small coroner’s desk in the corner and riffled through the files. In a city as big as Rochester, there was bound to be more than one Jane Doe in the morgue, but only one with the type of extensive damage they were looking for.

Tiffany cleared her throat, still wiping desperately at her nose as if she were trying to erase the smell. “Do you know who we’re looking for?”

He still couldn’t believe she was standing here, beside him.

Dropping that hint about knowing Mark had worked liked a dream.

But now that he had her trust, he needed to do what was necessary to scare her straight. No matter his own feelings.

He continued searching through the stacks of papers without answering. The victim’s file likely had to be somewhere near the top. He noticed a freshly printed page sticking out of a manila folder and pulled at the edge. The header of the report identified Jane Doe by her extensive mutilation.Bingo.This was not going to be pleasant.

“Damon,” she said again.

Fuck, he would never get used to hearing his name on her lips.

He turned toward her with the paper in hand.

Reading over the IDs, he matched the number on the report to the corresponding label on a drawer. He placed his hand on the cold metal handle as Tiffany walked to his side.

He nodded toward the drawer. “Don’t watch this, Shortcake.”

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