"Tony, I didn't kill those people."
"I know you didn't, Lissa." He reached over and took my hand in his. "Unfortunately, the local authorities ran both sets of fingerprints through the nationwide databases. They got a hit on yours, Lissa. Care to tell me how you're here instead of in Oklahoma City where they reported you missing over a year ago? Also how you manage to look like you do now instead of like the photographs I was given?" He took his hand away and drew a copy of the photo they'd used for my ID badge at the courthouse from his jacket pocket. That's where they'd gotten my fingerprint records, too; the courthouse fingerprinted all the employees and the records were kept in a database by the Sheriff's department. Fuck.
My skin was quivering so badly, I didn't know what to do. I twisted my fingers together to keep Tony from seeing how much they were shaking. "Tony, all I'm asking is for you to get Winkler and Weldon out of this mess," I begged. "And then let me walk away from you tomorrow morning, right at daybreak. I promise you won't have to worry about me past that." My eyes met his and I was pleading silently with him to do this. I could have placed compulsion, but without a doubt, there was back-up for Tony somewhere. In fact there was probably a crowd of people there at the bookstore, waiting for big, bad Lissa to do something untoward and they'd come blasting their way in, guns blazing.
"And what will happen if you walk away from me at daybreak?" Tony asked softly, his eyes searching my face for information I couldn't give.
"Why don't you try it and see?" I asked, hugging myself and hunching my shoulders in fear. I kept telling myself that walking into the sun was the best thing, now. Doubtless, this was what Kelvin and whoever he was in league with were planning all along. Expose Lissa and Weldon. The only thing that we had in common was the successful defense against Lester Briggs, Bart Orford and their horde of henchwolves. Most likely, Tate Briggs and Kelvin Morgan, if that was his real name, had somehow planned this together. Too bad Tate had gotten his in London. I wondered if Kelvin would have included Winkler in his plot for revenge if he'd known that Winkler executed Tate. If Tony wanted, he could now uncover the vampires and the werewolves with very little effort. If Kelvin had been anywhere around at the moment, I would have killed him right in front of Tony and then allowed Tony to arrest me and haul me in. If they tried to move me anywhere in daylight, they wouldn't have anything except ash to show for their efforts.
Tony wasn't saying anything; he just kept staring at me, his fingers still on the photograph of me at my frumpiest best—overweight and graying slightly. "How many people are here in the store with you, Tony?" I asked. "How many have guns, ready to shoot me if I make a wrong move?"
"You told me to contact you at night for a reason, didn't you?" Tony's face was showing disbelief. "You always worked nights and slept days before, didn't you?" Christ. He was putting it together, right in front of my eyes. "And now," he went on, "you want me to let you walk into sunlight. What will happen, Lissa? Why won't I have to worry about you after that?" His gray blue eyes held a hint of steel as he questioned me.
"You'll just have to trust me, won't you?" I mumbled, dropping my eyes. "What are you going to do about Winkler and Weldon? Anything?"
"Winkler is very important to us. You know why—you suggested he come to me in the first place," Tony said. "He's the one who can upgrade the software. He knows all about it, Lissa. The man is a genius. We have the footage of the shooter; he looks young, about five-ten or so, dark hair."
"If it's who I think it is, he's been going by the name of Kelvin Morgan but I don't think that's his real name." I turned my head; I didn't want to look at this man any longer. He was trying to trap me. Sure, I could tell him everything. And the vampires would find me afterward. They wouldn't hold back from killing me a second time if I exposed the race. Better to walk into the sun. That would be my decision.
"If I hazarded a guess at what you are, Lissa, what would happen?"
Still not looking at him, I mumbled, "I'd be dead. Very, very dead."
Tony's cell phone buzzed; he had it on vibrate but I heard it clearly. He looked at the ID and answered. "Yes?" he said.
"We have the shooter," the voice on the other end replied.
"Good. Where did you find him?"
"One of the detainee's friends tracked him down and handed him over. Some guy named Davis Stone."
If I could have, I'd have given Davis a huge kiss. As it was, I wasn't likely to see him again.
"Where?" Tony asked. A location in Overland Park was given. I had no idea where that was. "We'll be there in a few," Tony said and ended the call. "Well, Lissa, I'd like to bring you with me for this. Am I going to have to handcuff you to do it?"
"No." My voice was sullen. Tony took my arm and led me out of the store. Three men detached themselves from whatever it was they were doing and followed us out. I kid you not; two of them wore sunglasses.
There was a van waiting outside and I was loaded into the back seat. One of the three men scooted in beside me. I sniffed him; he was human enough, as were the others. He also wore a gun in a shoulder holster—he'd opened his suit coat and pulled it back a little just so I could see the weapon. I wondered what he'd do if I told him I'd been shot in the back three times and lived over it, even after Gavin had dug around to get the bullets out without the benefit of anesthetic. Now I wondered if anesthesia would even have an effect on me. Alcohol didn't unless it was mixed with blood or my donor happened to be drunk.
We drove along for fifteen minutes before pulling into an underground garage beneath a red brick building. The agent or whatever he was that sat beside me opened the door and motioned for me to get out. Did he think I was going to jump him? So far, he hadn't done anything to warrant that.
Tony was already walking swiftly toward the bank of elevators located in a corner of the well-lit parking garage. There were two other vehicles parked there—another van and a dark sedan. The whole place was low ceilinged and claustrophobically concrete, interrupted by rows of thick columns holding everything up. There were no signs anywhere to tell me where I was and our footsteps echoed as we followed Tony toward the elevators. An elevator answered Tony's call after he inserted an ID card in a slot and we all loaded in. The doors closed, Tony hit the button for the third floor and up we went.
A long, carpeted hallway stretched out before us as Tony led the way again. One agent was behind him, two others were behind me. If they left me inside a room, I wondered if I'd have enough time to turn to mist before they saw it on a monitor somewhere. Tony pulled the card out of his pocket again, swiped it through a reader outside a door and we followed him inside an interrogation room.