Chapter 4

Yulia drops the case file on the coffee table and looks up at Curtis. “This has the marks of Erlos. Are there any others?”

“Five confirmed cases isn’t enough?” the man asks. When he sees the seriousness on her face her says, “These are all the ones we know about that match.”

Yulia’s features soften a little. “There won’t be any hidden. Erlos likes to make sure his crimes are known.”

“What puzzles me is why he is taking their ovaries and testicles,” Curtis ponders, throwing out his bait and hoping for a bite.

“We could never determine that,” Yulia says quickly—perhaps too quickly.

“You’re hiding stuff from me,” the man accuses, tired of playing this game.

“I am not,” she denies, shaking her head. For a moment Curtis is taken in by her beauty and the way her short brown hair waves through the air about her head. He shakes his head, shaking away the thoughts. “I can tell when someone is lying. I’ve dealt with liars for long enough, Yulia. And you’re far from telling me the truth.”

“It is Detective Valerievna,” she demands, quickly changing the subject.

“I don’t give two shits what you prefer to be called,” he spats. “It’s about time you level with me, or so help me I will go to my captain and have your ass tossed out of this country faster than you can spit on the sidewalk.”

“I do not care for your threats,” Yulia counters promptly.

“I don’t care to make them,” Curtis fires right back. “I’ve got a madman running around mutilating bodies. I’ve got a foreign cop that I have to babysit hiding secrets from me ... what else am I missing?”

“You are not superior. I do not have to answer to you.”

“You’re a guest in my country,” Curtis says, his face growing hot and his anger barely being held in check. “You damn well have to answer to me. If not me then you won’t like who you will have to answer to.”

“I give you courtesy at airport,” Yulia says. “I do not have to allow babysit.”

“Oh, but you do,” he asserts. “As I’ve said, we can’t have you running around on our streets being a vigilante.”

“You try stop me then,” she snaps. “I go pack bags.”

“You go do that then,” he commands. “You won’t get three steps out the building before your ass is picked up.”

“Mu’dak,” she growls.

“What was that?” he asks, and then says mockingly, “My Russian is a little rusty.

“I call you asshole,” she reveals.

“Oh, so I’m the asshole?”

“Asshole doesn’t even begin to explain you,” Yulia snaps before turning on her heels and heads for the guest room.

“Yeah, you go ahead and get the last word,” he calls after her. “Fucking Russians...”

Yulia doesn’t hear the rest of what the man has to say. She slams the doors shut and settles against it for a moment, sighing heavily. She knows damn well that there is nothing he or the police department can do to stop her from investigating, though it won’t stop them from delaying her. And in the meantime, Erlos will continue to go about murdering people. The thought of Erlos out there weighs heavily on her mind, but the more she dwells on the beast, the less it seems that it is for the right reasons.

In this room, separated from the man on the other side of the door, she feels alone. She feels with him at the same time. And though she has never been with him, Yulia misses him. She steps over to the bed, picking up her bag on the way. But before she even reaches the bed with it—her intensions to pack it up—she drops it back to the floor. Quickly, she strips off her clothes to her panties and settles onto the bed. With her back to the door, the woman hugs her knees up and imagines his body curving tight around hers. His broad chest presses against her back. His lips are on her neck. His arm wraps around her to pull her body closer to his.

Then she feels a tear slide down onto the pillow.

She does not miss him. She knows this. How can she miss him? She has never been with him physically. She knows what kind of monster he is, and yet she cannot get him out of her head. Yulia rolls onto her back and wipes her eyes before stretching out. She takes a deep breath and concentrates on not thinking of him, not missing him. Her head has to get clear if she is to deal with Curtis and hunt Erlos down.

She starts to relax as she ponders what to do next and how to go about it. Her arms come to rest on her belly. Absent-mindedly the woman tickles the flesh below her belly button with the very tips of her fingers as she imagines what would happen should she finally manage to track the beast down. It isn’t the revenge she wants to seek though, but something else entirely. And as Erlos comes into her mind again, her finger strokes become longer, more of a caress than a tickle. Her left hand joins in at her collar bone. Yulia’s mind fills with the anticipation of seeing his face and somewhere in between her legs she feels an expectant pulse. Her hands roam her body, stroking her face, her breasts, her hips. Her back gradually arches as she slowly removes the final article of clothing before becoming completely naked. It is the one barrier she was able to keep consciously on. Now it is gone, and once again she is his.