Chapter 169: Detective Maddox’s Intuition
Chapter 169: Detective Maddox’s Intuition
Halloween night had transformed the streets of Grayhaven.
Storefronts glowed orange and purple. Plastic skeletons hung from balconies, carved pumpkins sat beside front steps, and groups of costumed children occasionally hurried past with bags of candy swinging from their hands.
Daphne Whitlock walked through all of it with almost no expression.
A few children glanced at the attractive woman in professional clothes as they passed. On another night, Daphne might have watched them with mild amusement and privately thought that children really were easier to understand when they were still young and uncomplicated.
Tonight, she was not in the mood.
Her thoughts were already occupied by someone who could shift between a mature appearance and a vulnerable younger one.
The problem was that tonight had shown her something she had not fully appreciated before.
There were far more women around Cyrus than she realized.
Beautiful women.
Capable women.
Women with obvious interest in him.
Daphne replayed the faces she had seen sitting along the bar.
Helena Baird.
Rhea Maddox.
Vera Sable.
Even Audra Sloane had eventually appeared.
Daphne strongly suspected that she was not the only one among them who had already crossed certain boundaries with Cyrus.
If that were the only issue, perhaps she could tolerate it.
Cyrus was attractive.
He drew attention.
That much had become impossible to ignore once he stopped hiding his appearance.
The real problem was something else.
What if one of those women eventually decided that sharing access to Cyrus was no longer acceptable?
What if someone chose to keep him completely to herself?
That was different.
Daphne’s expression darkened slightly.
Then another uncomfortable question followed.
Even if she herself tried to monopolize Cyrus, how long could she realistically keep him?
She still did not understand him nearly well enough.
The diary had revealed some of his planning, but nowhere close to everything.
And if Daphne could not fully read Cyrus, she certainly could not predict the women surrounding him.
She still lacked information.
Far too much of it.
Daphne frowned as she walked.
A voice suddenly came from behind her.
"Ms. Whitlock."
She stopped and turned.
Rhea Maddox was approaching from farther down the sidewalk.
Away from the dim lighting and crowded atmosphere of The Full Moon Lounge, Daphne could finally see her more clearly.
The police uniform was real.
So was the calm, sharp presence that came with it.
Rhea had looked striking inside the lounge, but beneath the colder streetlights she carried herself unmistakably like someone accustomed to being taken seriously.
Daphne’s earlier uncertainty disappeared.
Apparently she really was a police officer.
"Did you need something, Detective Maddox?"
Rhea accepted the title without correcting her.
"There’s something I’ve been wondering about."
She stopped a short distance away.
"It concerns Cyrus. Do you have a few minutes?"
Daphne’s brows lowered slightly.
So Rhea had actually followed her out.
Was this going to be some attempt to establish territory?
"You can ask."
Rhea glanced ahead.
"You live in this direction, right? We can talk while we walk."
Daphne nodded.
They continued side by side.
For the first several steps, neither woman spoke.
Halloween decorations stretched along the street around them, but the noise from the busier blocks had already started fading behind them.
Rhea seemed to be choosing her words carefully.
Eventually, she asked, "Do you believe rare-bloods exist?"
Daphne’s attention sharpened immediately.
A possibility surfaced almost at once.
Did Rhea know what Cyrus was?
"I’ve heard enough from someone I trust that I can’t completely dismiss the idea."
Rhea gave a small nod.
"That makes sense. If you haven’t seen something yourself, it’s difficult to believe stories like that completely."
Her tone remained casual.
"I’m mainly asking because you live next door to Cyrus. Have you ever noticed anything unusual about him?"
Daphne did not answer immediately.
She could not understand Rhea’s purpose.
If Rhea already knew Cyrus was a rare-blood, why ask her for confirmation?
Rare-bloods could apparently live among humans for years without being discovered as long as they were careful.
Cyrus’s condition was especially difficult to identify.
Daphne had researched rare-bloods after first encountering his younger form.
She had found scattered books, old articles, and collections of questionable accounts.
None of them described anything matching Cyrus exactly.
Even published field guides were unreliable.
An author might spend months around a rare-blood community and still learn only what that community willingly revealed.
If a bloodline considered one of its traits private, an outsider could easily write an entire book without discovering it.
That meant Rhea could have information without knowing enough to identify Cyrus properly.
Maybe she had seen something.
Maybe she suspected something.
Maybe she was now looking for evidence.
Daphne remained silent long enough that Rhea noticed.
Rhea did not rush her.
In fact, Daphne’s hesitation was useful information by itself.
A person who knew absolutely nothing would probably have responded much faster.
They continued walking.
By the time Daphne’s small three-story apartment building appeared down the street, she finally spoke.
"What kind of unusual thing do you mean?"
Rhea made a thoughtful sound.
"That’s difficult to answer without making the question sound strange."
She smiled faintly.
"Although most strange things eventually end up with some scientific explanation anyway. Give medicine a few more years and maybe someone will invent a drug that can make a person physically younger."
Daphne’s eyes changed.
The example was far too specific.
So Rhea knew something.
Daphne kept her voice even.
"Why did you decide to ask me?"
"You live close to him."
Rhea answered simply.
Then she added, "And I have a feeling about you."
Daphne glanced at her.
"What kind of feeling?"
A slight smile appeared on Rhea’s face.
There was something almost playful behind it.
"My intuition says our goals probably don’t conflict."
Daphne studied her.
Rhea trusted her instincts.
They had served her well throughout most of her career.
Cyrus was one of the few people who had repeatedly made those instincts unreliable.
Even the first time she had let him restrain her, the experience itself had been more enjoyable than she expected.
The ending had simply not gone the way she wanted.
That incident had taught Rhea something important.
If she cared about how a situation ended, she should not leave the final outcome entirely in someone else’s hands.
Now, looking at Daphne, she had another instinct.
This woman knew more than she was saying.
Maybe not everything.
Probably not even close.
But enough.
The two women reached the apartment building and stopped near the entrance.
Daphne said nothing.
Rhea waited.
Neither of them was naïve enough to immediately exchange every secret simply because they shared an interest in the same person.
Rhea did not know how much Daphne understood about Cyrus’s rare-blood traits.
She did not know whether Daphne had ever seen his Frostborn transformation directly.
Daphne, in turn, clearly had no intention of revealing what she knew without understanding what Rhea wanted.
That was reasonable.
Information only had value when both sides were willing to trade.
Rhea had not approached Daphne tonight expecting a complete confession.
She only wanted to find out whether a future conversation was possible.
Daphne’s reaction had already given her part of the answer.
Rhea looked up at the apartment building with mild interest.
"So this is where you both live."
"Yes."
Daphne’s response was brief.
Rhea examined the building for another moment.
It was small.
Quiet.
Ordinary.
Exactly the kind of place Cyrus seemed to prefer.
Then she reached into a pocket and pulled out a small notebook and pen.
She wrote down a phone number, tore off the piece of paper, and handed it to Daphne.
"It’s late, so I won’t keep you."
Daphne accepted the note.
Rhea continued, "If you notice anything unusual later, or if you ever decide you want to compare information, you can contact me directly."
Daphne looked at the number but did not respond immediately.
Rhea turned her gaze toward the apartment building again.
"This place actually seems pretty comfortable."
Daphne looked back at her.
Rhea smiled.
"If a unit opens up sometime, would you let me know?"
That request was unexpected enough that Daphne paused.
She imagined Rhea living in the same building.
Cyrus would probably hate that.
The thought did not make the idea particularly appealing to Daphne either.
Still, she did not reject it outright.
"All right. If I hear about something, I’ll tell you."
"Thanks."
Rhea slipped the pen back into her pocket.
"I’ll buy you dinner sometime when we both have time."
Daphne nodded politely.
"That’s fine."
Rhea stepped away.
"Good night, Ms. Whitlock."
"Good night, Detective Maddox."
Daphne remained near the entrance while Rhea walked back toward the street.
For several seconds, Rhea’s uniform remained visible beneath the Halloween lights.
Then she turned the corner and disappeared.
Only after she was completely gone did Daphne lower her gaze.
The small piece of paper was still in her hand.
A phone number had been written across it in neat digits.
Daphne stared at the note without moving.