A Siren's Song (Ride of the Darkyrie 2) by Saranna DeWylde Read Free Book Online Page A

tray—something he said a gentleman had left for me.
                  A sprig of night blooming jasmine.
    CHAPTER FOUR
     
                  The waiter had no idea who’d left the jasmine—only that it was for me.
                  When my date got back to the table, he said it would be pretty in my hair and settled it behind my ear.
                  It was too much like wearing it for the killer—he’d sent me a token of his regard and I’d dutifully put it in my hair like some tribute. He was probably watching from somewhere and I itched to scan the crowd for him. He was higher on the food chain than Richard. 
                  I was surprised that Richard didn’t ask about his food, he didn’t touch it. He simply paid the bill and we left.
                  As we went outside, I tried to remove the flowers, but Richard grabbed my hand and held it. “It’s such a pretty contrast with your dark hair. It pleases my muse to see it. Did you know that the Hindus used jasmine as offerings to their gods?”
                  I couldn’t say anything else about it without revealing something about the case. So I wore it, but I decided to push back. “Who am I to deny your muse? Maybe you’ll show me some of the things she’s helped you create?”
                  “You want to see my studio?” He sounded surprised.
                  “I’d love to.”
                  “It’s not in the best part of town,” he started.
                  He didn’t want me there. Even more interesting. But I’d make him come out and say that he didn’t want me at his place and why. “I’m a cop. I think I’ll be okay.”
                  “Do you want to pick up your car?”
                  I didn’t want anyone to see me parked outside of his place. “No, Jason will take care of it.”
                  “You must like me a lot to come to my house with no way to get home if the evening doesn’t go well.” His gaze was as sharp as a razor on my face.
                  What a creepy thing to say. I raised my eyebrow. “Do you anticipate it won’t go well or is this you seeing what it will take to keep me from the inside of your studio?
                  “Picked up on that, did you?” He smirked.
                  “I did. And it only makes me want to see it more.”
                  He stopped and turned to me, flashing all of his teeth at me again in what other people would call a smile. “I’m nervous about showing you my work.”
                  “I promise I’d love nothing better than to see your work.” I knew we weren’t talking about oils on canvas.
                  “It’s unfinished,” Richard said shyly, the toothy grin having retreated into a fey, almost bashful smile.
                  “Well, you mustn’t show me anything until you’re ready. Sometimes it takes time for a true masterpiece to be ready.” Not unlike the Capri Killer. Not unlike myself.
                  He reached out and smoothed a flyway behind my ear, his fingers then hovered over that sprig of white jasmine blooms. “You’re so beautiful, Brynn.” Richard looked thoughtful for a moment. “Who are you?”
                  I am your queen, your goddess, the beginning and end of all things, I am Helreggin, a voice that was not mine screamed in my head. Instead, I answered, “Just a girl.”
                  “No, you’re like some witch.” His expression twisted almost as if he were in pain.
                  “Such pretty words,” I snorted.
                  “No, it’s just…” he trailed off for a moment. “I’ve never met anyone like you. I’ve known you for all of a second and I want to show you things I’ve never shown