Supernatural Sleep Read online

  Supernatural Sleep

  The Lyon Fox Mysteries - Book 3

  Ann Denton

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  A Personal Note from Lyon Fox

  The Lyon Fox Mysteries

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2018 Ann Denton

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  Le Rue Publishing

  320 South Boston Avenue, Suite 1030

  Tulsa, OK 74103

  www.LeRuePublishing.com

  ISBN: 978-1-5323-9189-7

  For Aubs. The first person to laugh at Lyon.

  Chapter 1

  A sixth sense jerks me awake. My heart pounds and I lash out, my arm swinging wildly. My fist connects with something—someone.

  "Motherfucker!"

  "JR?" Crap. She never curses. I must have hit her hard. I sit up and my head sways unsteadily. (Heads do that after you’ve tried to drink away your guy problems.)

  JR plops down on the bed beside me, still in her bridesmaid dress from last night, a dress that showcases her curves. My eyes adjust to the afternoon light. She's cradling her face. Poor nymph’s gonna have a shiner.

  "Best friends have to forgive each other for at least one face punch, right?”

  She turns toward me, the skin by her eye already swelling like a goose egg. “I don’t think that’s a thing.”

  “Definitely a thing!” her boyfriend, Danny Lovato, calls from my living room.

  I grin. “I’m glad he’s good for something.”

  “I’m good for a lotta things. You just aren’t privy to most of them,” Danny saunters into the room on his hooves and hands JR an ice pack.

  Damn thoughtful satyr boyfriends.

  Damn boyfriends in general.

  Damn my taste in boyfriends.

  JR groans and shoves the icepack on her face. Danny shoves something into his mouth.

  I do a double take, then launch myself across the bed. “No!”

  I latch onto Danny and grab the cookie out of his hand. We fall to the floor.

  “Spit it out!”

  “Learn to share!”

  “I’m serious. Spit it out.” I hold up the cookie. A heart-shaped sugar cookie, it now has a bite missing. But in the middle of the pink icing is the Crypts’ symbol. When Danny touched the cookie, a tombstone inside a circle appeared. The sign of the most dangerous vampire gang in town.

  “What the hell?” Danny spits his bite out. Finally.

  “What is that?” JR asks.

  “This is why I called you. I don’t know what to do.” I toss her the cookie to examine, then sink my face into my hands. “Luke sent them.”

  “That vamp you’re dating?” Danny asks.

  “He sent you cookies with the Crypts’ gang sign on them?” JR turns the cookie upside down, as if something else might appear.

  I nod. Tears form in my eyes. I’m not sure why he sent them. Or what it means. But it can’t be good. The cookies scared the crap outta me. And I don’t know why he’d do that. We just started dating. Why would he want to scare me?

  “That ass—” JR is about to rip Luke a new one. I can see it in her eyes. The brown turns tawny when she’s pissed.

  Danny’s gagging stops her.

  We both turn to look at him. His face is swollen to twice its normal size. He grabs at his throat. His eyes bulge.

  Tingles prick my body as I realize those cookies weren’t just meant to scare me. “Crud! We have to get him to the hospital!” I trip over him in my haste to get to my phone. I shove my blonde hair out of my eyes, grab my cell off the nightstand, and dial 666.

  “Tres Lunas Emergency Services.”

  “I think my friend was poisoned.”

  “Species?”

  “He’s a satyr. Half man-half goat.”

  “Permission to do a locating spell on you?”

  “Yes!” I yell.

  Danny’s starting to turn blue.

  JR sobs.

  Eff no. This can’t be happening. She just caught the bouquet at her cousin’s wedding last night!

  “Location spell started. Emergency team is on the way. Can you describe your situation for me? What kind of poison?”

  I’m shaking. Hard. Like a branch in a hurricane. “I dunno. Poisoned cookie.”

  “Food poisoning?”

  “The cookie shows a Crypts’ symbol. So, no. I don’t think it’s just food poisoning,” my voice cracks.

  The operator gasps.

  “We’re going to route you to the city hospital via teleportation. It will be fastest. How many people, so I can tell the Emergency Response Wizard?”

  “Three.” I hang up the phone as there’s a knock on the door. “They’re here.”

  I’m not sure JR even hears me. She’s cradling Danny’s head and rocking back and forth.

  I stumble to the door, still a little drunk, definitely a bit shaky, and open it for a wizard dressed in white.

  “Emergency—”

  “This way.” I shove him inside, lock the front door, and drag him to my bedroom.

  Three seconds later, JR, Danny, and I are in a hospital waiting room.

  And that’s when I realize, I’m in my underwear.

  An elf doctor comes out and starts talking to JR, who somehow remembered to bring the cookie with her.

  He sends it to the lab for testing.

  He sends Danny somewhere to get his stomach pumped and spelled.

  He sends me to the bathroom to put on his spare sweater and some hospital socks.

  I avoid looking in the mirror. I don’t want to see my blonde bed-head, or the raccoon eyes from my blue eyeliner from last night. I just change as quickly as I can and duck out of the restroom.

  That’s how I end up wandering the hall, in nothing but an orange, button-up argyle sweater and lime green—don’t steal us we’re hospital property—socks.

  I’m sure I look crazy. Or like a homeless jester.

  Which is exactly the look you want to go for when you run into your ex.

  Bennett comes striding out of a patient’s room with an air of authority. He’s in his cop uniform and, of course, the sleeves are molded to his biceps. With his sleek black hair and green eyes, he looks like a walking calendar model. Dammit!

  When he sees me, he stops—just straight up freezes.

  And that’s when the dam breaks.

  “Lyon, what are you doing here?”

  “Danny’s here. It’s all my fault.”

  “Danny?”

  “JR’s boyfriend. I punched her.”

  “What?”

  “I was sleeping. I didn’t know it was her.”

  “You aren’t making any sense.”

  I slide down the wall. “I know.
Okay. Luke sent me cookies.”

  Bennett’s jaw clenches. “And?”

  I laugh bitterly as I wipe off some tears, “And they’re poisoned. And they have a Crypts’ symbol on them.”

  Bennett squats and grabs my shoulder. “Are you serious?”

  His touch is warm, and gentle. And his face shows only concern. It soothes me and I’m able to stop the flood. I need to get back in control. Whatever Luke’s done, this is big. Whatever he meant, this is serious. Danny’s hurt. And I need Bennett’s help. I swallow and nod.

  I try to explain. But I’m still a little drunk, “Danny bit a cookie. And they’re pumping him. Back there. Some elf guy is pumping him.” I wave an arm in the general direction they took Danny.

  Bennett runs a hand over his face. “Okay. Where are the cookies?”

  “My place.”

  Bennett grabs his phone but leaves one hand on my shoulder. He dials. The voice that answers is not a voice I want to hear.

  “Flores. Gonna send you my location. Get over here. We’ve got a murder and poisoning ... separate. And … bring some extra clothes.”

  Bennett clicks off. He guides me down the hall until we see JR. She looks haunted. The bruise by her eye is awful. Her mascara trails down her cheeks with her tears. Her lipstick’s gone. And her lips are open in that dull, vacant expression of shock I’ve seen on crime victims at our office.

  I grab her hand.

  Bennett leads us both to the cafeteria and settles us at a table.

  “Stay here. I’ll send Flores as soon as I can.”

  I rub JR’s back. I try and whisper soothing things. But there’s only so many times you can say, “I’m sorry,” or “He’ll be alright,” without sounding fake.

  She just stares at the wall. I wouldn’t want to look at me either.

  Do best friends have to forgive each other for accidentally poisoning a boyfriend? I don’t think so.

  If I hadn’t gotten drunk and called JR, this wouldn’t have happened.

  If I’d thrown away those cookies, this wouldn’t have happened.

  If I hadn’t encouraged Luke, this wouldn’t have happened.

  I’m about to spiral into wicked self-pity. Which I don’t deserve. JR deserves all the pity. So, I stand, determined to at least be useful.

  I get in line and order some coffee and breakfast bars. The D team must be working the hospital cafeteria—do they even have an A team at a hospital cafeteria?—because it takes forever for the cyclops behind the counter to come back with a pair of pre-packaged bars.

  “Better check the expiration date,” the man behind me in line says.

  “Good call.” I look. Ah, yeah, these are like two years expired. I slide the bars back across the counter.

  “Never mind on these. Just the coffee.”

  The cafeteria cyclops glares at me.

  “Three gold.”

  Crap! I forgot my wallet. All I have is my phone. I peer behind me. JR doesn’t have hers either.

  “Umm … we kinda teleported here for an emergency. Do you have like a credit—”

  “I got it.” The man behind me leans forward and tosses five gold coins on the counter. “I’ll take a coffee too, Mick.”

  I finally turn and fully face him. He’s mid-forties. His face looks like the surface of the moon. Bet his high school years sucked. But his eyes have laugh lines. So hopefully it all worked out for him. In any case, he turned out nice enough to buy a half-clothed woman a drink. A non-alcoholic drink.

  I hold out a hand. “Thank you. I’m Lyon Fox, by the way.”

  “Bruce Parker.” He shakes my hand with a firm grip and then points toward the sapphire embedded in my chin.

  “You fae?”

  I roll my eyes. “Barely. And not by choice.”

  He laughs and grabs his coffee. “I know what you mean.” He gestures to an onyx stone embedded near his left temple. It could pass for a nasty mole if the light didn’t catch it right.

  We head to the condiments table for creamer and sugar. He puts in almost as much sugar as I do.

  “Man with good taste.”

  He shrugs. “Don’t like this stuff. But working two jobs … gotta do what you gotta do. California’s expensive.”

  “What do you do here?”

  “Janitorial services.”

  I nod. “Been doing a lot of that myself lately.”

  He raises his brows. “Really?”

  “I suck at magic. And my boss sees fit to punish me for it.”

  Bruce shakes his head.

  He opens his mouth to say more but Diego Flores walks in.

  A senior investigator, and my instructor at the Tres Lunas Police and Investigation Academy, Flores hates his nickname: Flowers. Because it’s not serious. And Mr. Muscles is all about serious.

  Flowers barks, “Fox!”

  “Gotta go. Thanks for the joe.” I fist bump Bruce Parker before I drop off JR’s coffee.

  Flowers rolls his eyes when he sees me. “Of course, you’re the one I have to bring clothes for. Can you ever be appropriate? Just once?” He eyes my outfit and shakes his head.

  “There was an emergency.”

  “Just get dressed.” He tosses a duffel bag my way.

  “JR, meet Flowers,” I use his nickname just to piss him off.

  Flowers nods to her and pulls out his notepad. “Ma’am. Commander French told me I should take your statement about what happened tonight.”

  “My best friend poisoned my boyfriend. You mean that statement?”

  Flowers isn’t the only one pissed at me.

  Awesome. This day is killer.

  Hopefully, not literally.

  Chapter 2

  After Flowers takes our statements, he escorts us back to the waiting room. He wanders off down the hall toward Bennett, who stands in the doorway of patient room 485, where a murder investigation is taking place. I can see Bella, a werewolf D.A. in there with them. I’m guessing she’s here to sniff out clues over the scent of disinfectant.

  I’m so glad not to be a part of it.

  I have enough drama.

  I glance at JR. She’s still stonewalling.

  The elf doctor steps into the hallway and tucks his examination wand into his belt.

  I tense.

  He heads straight for us.

  Somehow, Flowers and Bennett appear at my sides before the doctor reaches us.

  “Prognosis?” Flowers asks.

  “He’s a fighter. It’ll be a rough week in here for him, getting his system back to normal. But he’s going to a floor bed and not ICU. So that’s a good thing.”

  My stomach flutters in relief. I didn’t kill Danny. I look at JR. She doesn’t meet my eyes. I don’t think she’s ready to forgive me. Even if he’s gonna live, Danny’s still here because of me. Because for some stupid reason, I’m drawn to vampires. Like a moth to a flame. And they always frickin’ burn me.

  “Any word back from the lab?” Flowers interrupts my internal monologue. I’m happy to have something else to focus on, so I turn to him and the doctor.

  “Not yet. Another twelve hours at least. They’ve got a backlog. Especially with all the testing you want done on the deceased fairy to rule out communicable diseases.”

  Flowers gives a curt nod and hands the doctor a card. “Thanks, Doctor Emris. Please call me with the results of this one.”

  Emris nods and turns to leave.

  JR’s hand shoots out. “Can I see him?”

  “Of course. They’re moving him to 470 now.”

  JR and I go to room 470 while the guys head off. The room’s a triple. Two other beds are already occupied.

  In one, a man is strapped to the bed. His arms are covered in coarse red fur. One hand ends in a hoof. His ears are pointed and furry. Everything else visible is human. He’s clearly a shifter, but I’m not sure what.

  The curtains are drawn around the other bed, though I can hear a low moan coming from the patient inside.

  JR takes the cha
ir next to Danny when they wheel him in.

  I go over to the shifter and ask if I can use his guest chair.

  “It’s gonna cost you.”

  “What?”

  “A conversation.” The guy winks.

  Geez. Really? In the hospital? While he’s partially shifted? Possibly contagious with a communicable disease? I’m thankful I’m wearing Flores’ gym clothes and currently look like some baggy nineties gang banger.

  “So, what are you in for?” I decide to humor the dude who’s strapped in until I find out if he’s strong enough to break the restraints.

  “Bite to the nards. Had to tie me down so I won’t scratch.”

  I reel back. “You serious?”

  “Yeah. Almost rutting season. Met this sweet little piece at the bar, went mud wrestling—in shifted form, obviously, then—”

  “I think I’ve had enough details. Thanks.” I grab the back of the chair. Mud-wrestling shifters. Boars? I decide I’ll check his chart when he’s sleeping. But, either way, I think he seems like an entitled jerk. So, I’ll be calling him Man-pig.

  “Wait! I was in that room! Where the murder went down.”

  I turn to stare. Is he that desperate to talk to women? “What are you talking about?”

  Man-pig jerks his head toward the door. “Down the hall. My roommate bit it. All sudden. Nobody knows what happened. Big mystery.”

  Is that why Bennett’s here? I squint my eyes. “You’re lying.”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “You see anything?”

  “Nah, my eyesight’s shit. But it smelled awful.”

  “What happened?”

  “Dude was on an IV. Chatted with me. Then just trailed off. I thought he’d fallen asleep. Then I thought he mighta’ farted and faked the sleep. Smelled like frickin’ cabbage. Rank. Other than that, looked like he was just sleeping. But guess he was dead. Total bummer.”