“Let me tel Chrysandra.” I hustled over to my waitress and tapped her on the arm. “Keep an eye on Derrick. Help him learn the ropes. Chase needs me.”
“No problem, Menol y. But are you sure? It’s his first night.” She looked a little worried. Normal y I’d chalk it up to nerves, but tonight I stopped and looked into her eyes, trying to get a feel for where her jitters were coming from.
“You have a bad feeling about him?” I cocked my head, waiting.
She glanced over at him, then slowly shook her head. “Not at al . . . but . . . there’s something about him. I can’t put my finger on it. He’s more than he appears to be, but I don’t sense . . . he’s not hostile, but I think he walks with danger.”
“Most Supes do, nowadays.” I frowned. “Fetch Tavah from the basement. Tel Riki to take over for her down there. If anything goes wrong, Tavah should be able to take care of matters.”
Tavah, another vampire, spent her nights in the basement of the Wayfarer, guarding the portal to Otherworld and keeping track of the guests who came through. She kept the creeps out and let the paying visitors in.
“Okay. Wil do.” She ran down the steps as I hightailed it over to Derrick. “Listen, Derrick, I’ve got to go out. Chrysandra wil help you out, and while I’m gone she and Tavah are in charge. I’l be back as soon as I can. Okay?”
He nodded, eyes on the drink he was mixing. “Not a problem. Got it.”
And with that, as soon as I saw Tavah appear at the top of the stairs, I fol owed Chase into the icy night.
Winter in Seattle vacil ates between mild and nasty, but the past couple of years had been pretty rough. Instead of the incessant rain, we’d actual y seen snow—enough to stop the city in its tracks for a few days. Last year it had been the god-giant Loki, with his Fenris wolf, making a run on the city because of my now-dead sire. This year, I had the feeling more natural factors were at play. La Niña had come to town. We were in a colder, wetter spel .
And now, two and a half weeks before Yule, it was cold enough to snow and I’d already considered putting snow tires on my Jag.
The chil didn’t bother me, but Chase buttoned his trench as we headed out. He held the door open for me—he was, at heart, a gentleman—and we hustled to his car. I could tel he was cold; the breath puffed out of his mouth like clouds from a steam engine.
The streets were packed with shoppers looking for Christmas bargains. As we edged through traffic, Chase flipped on the radio and Danny Elfman’s voice came out of the speakers, blaring
“Dead Man’s Party.”
“Man, I remember dancing to this at one of the local clubs almost fifteen years ago,” he said offhandedly. “I was in high school and dating a girl named Glenda. She had hair a mile high and was in ful retro mode. Al she wanted to wear was glittery spandex and she looked like one of the B-52 girls.”
I glanced at him. “Do you miss those days? The days when you didn’t know about us or the demons?”
He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as we waited for traffic to inch forward. “Trick question. No way to answer that truthful y.” Giving me a sideways smirk, he added, “Yes, I do, but only because life was much simpler then. Choices were black and white. But I have to say, since you three entered my life, I’ve never been bored. Scared shitless, yes. Bored? Never.”
Snorting, I leaned forward and turned up the music. “You ever want to, you’re welcome to come clubbing with Nerissa and me, as long as we aren’t hitting a vamp club. We’re damned good on the dance floor.”
Chase’s turn to snicker. “Right. While I’d be the envy of a thousand men, I don’t know if that would fit my style anymore. Then again . . . it might be fun. Hel , I have no clue as to what my style is now.” He sounded lost, and a little frightened. “Look—Santa.”
A sidewalk Santa was ringing his bel for the South Street Mission in front of a smal boutique.
The winter was chil and cold, and a lot of people were out of work. Gauging from his expression, Santa wasn’t gathering many coins for charity.
“Santa’s a freak-ass scary dude in reality. Camil e met him when she was young.” I stared at the pseudo-Santa through the window as we passed by and fel silent. Santa passing out presents.
The Tooth Fairy handing out coins for teeth. The Easter Bunny hiding eggs. Humans clung to their myths in the hopes that they’d ward off bad luck and evil, that they’d bring prosperity and security. How little they knew about the truth that hid behind their fairy tales, or what monsters were really sliding down their chimneys.
I turned up the music as Ladytron replaced Oingo Boingo. A part of me felt sorry for Chase.
We’d thrown a monkey wrench into his life and he could never go back to what he’d been, to the life he’d expected to lead. Col ateral damage. We were leaving a nasty trail, and there’d be far more by the time this demonic war was over.
It took us another twenty minutes to reach the FH-CSI (Faerie Human Crime Scene Investigation) headquarters. I knew this building al too wel . It seemed like my sisters and I were here al the time, especial y since the war against Shadow Wing was escalating.
Most of the building was underground—the bottom level was the morgue, in-house laboratory, and archives. Third floor down held the jail cel s for the Otherworld magical and strength-enhanced Supes. Second floor down was the arsenal—containing a vast array of interesting weapons viable for use against anything from werewolves to giants. The main floor contained both police headquarters and the medic unit. Delilah had hinted that she thought there was another level below the morgue, but we didn’t know what it was or whether it real y existed.
Chase led me straight to his office, rather than the morgue. A good sign, I thought. Straight to the morgue was bad. Straight to the morgue meant immediate danger, and right now I wasn’t in the mood for trouble.
But as I took a seat opposite his desk, I happened to catch a glimpse of the photographs spil ing out of a file on his desk. Crap. Blood and more blood. Everything was always covered in blood these days.
“That’s your trouble, I take it?” I nodded to the pictures.
“Yes, and I wish you could take it as far away from me as possible.” He let out a sigh. “I don’t know what to make of it. If it looked like simple vampire kil ings, at least I’d know what I was dealing with, but there’s something else going on.” He motioned for me to scoot my chair closer and laid out the photos in a line for me to look at.
There were four women, each with obvious puncture wounds in her neck. Vampire activity, al right.
“Looks pretty straightforward to me,” I said.“Yeah, you would think so, wouldn’t you? But look again at the women. Look closely. Notice anything odd?” He frowned and leaned back in his chair, crossing his left leg over his right and interlacing his fingers. “I real y want your honest opinion because I want to make sure I’m not just barking up a tree that doesn’t exist.”
I studied the photographs. Women, al pretty, al somewhere in their thirties, looked to be. Al . . .
wait a minute. Pattern. There was a pattern.
“They al have long brown hair, layered. They al have brown eyes, and they al seem to be around 130 pounds. How tal were they?”
“Al between five six and five eight. So you see it, too?”
“Yeah. Was there any connection between them? Any other similarity to their deaths?” A nasty thought was forming in my head, and I had the feeling Chase had already come to the same conclusion.
“Obviously they were al exsanguinated, and they were al kil ed at night. Puncture wounds on the throat, though there’s no way to prove for sure that they were kil ed by a vampire. Al the women were murdered within a five-mile radius, in the Greenbelt Park District. Al four were hookers.” He frowned. “I’m thinking we have a vampire serial kil er. If it weren’t for the fact that al the girls look alike, I’d just chalk it up to a rogue vampire attack, but they look so much alike, they could be related.”
I stared at the pictures. Chase was right. They did look like sisters. And even though he couldn’t make the official cal , I knew in my gut that it was a vampire—most likely singular—attacking the women.
“Do you have their bodies, stil ? I can probably verify vamp attack, seeing that I am one, but I need to look at their wounds.”
Damn, damn, damn. If it was a vampire serial kil er, we had big trouble on our hands. Ever since Delilah decked him, Andy Gambit—star reporter for the Seattle Tattler, a yel ow tabloid that fed on the fears and titil ation of Seattle residents—had been on a tear, doing his best to smear Fae and Supes of al kinds. He’d been backing Taggart Jones for the City Council position.
Gambit had done such an effective smear job on Nerissa that she’d lost the race, even though she’d started out with a decent margin and al signs pointed to potential victory. Gambit had dragged her through the mud because of her association with me, and it had worked. The surprise, however, had been that Taggart Jones hadn’t won, either. A moderate had swept the election.
Now, Gambit would be al over this story. If word of a vampire serial kil er got out, we’d be pouring gasoline on the fire.
Chase led me to the elevator. “So, are you guys ready for Yule yet?”
I grinned. “More or less. Delilah hasn’t tipped over the tree yet, but then, we anchored it to the ceiling first thing. Camil e and Iris have the house looking like a winter wonderland. Al we need is snow for it to feel like the holidays.”
“Does Otherworld get much snow?” he asked, holding the door open for me.
I swung in behind him. “Depends on where you’re at. Y’Elestrial—yes, we get quite a bit of snow there . . . I fel silent, biting my lip. Our home city was now sacrosanct and off limits to Camil e, although she could stil go to other parts of Otherworld. And to us, too. “I miss it. The city is beautiful, but now, I wonder if we’l ever see it again.”
“Queen Tanaquar and your father stil won’t relent?” He looked uncertain, like he thought he should pat me on the shoulder or something.
Shrugging, I shook my head. “When Delilah and I demanded they al ow Camil e to return to her ful status, they told us we had two choices: Abide by their decree or suffer the same fate ourselves. So we al went to work for Queen Asteria instead, and the Otherworld Intel igence Agency is history. At least for us. At least for now.”
“They aren’t talking to me, either,” he said. “Ever since your civil war, it’s like they’ve decided that the FH-CSI doesn’t need to be kept in the loop.”
“Join the club. Father tried to guilt-trip us like crazy, but Delilah and I shut him out. We hated to do so, but he hasn’t been by our sides, up to his elbows in demon blood, wondering if Shadow Wing is coming through next. He doesn’t know how fucking hard Camil e’s worked, nor does he understand the decisions she’s had to make. How could Delilah and I stand by and just watch them throw her away?”
Chase nodded. “I get it. I real y do. And I admire the choice you made. You three—no matter what, no one wil ever come between you.”
He looked wistful, and I wondered if he missed Delilah. He was actual y at our house more often now that they’d broken up, and he seemed far more relaxed and happy. So did Delilah, even though she was stil finding her way with Shade, the half dragon, half Stradolan. A part of the Autumn Lord’s world, Shade had strode into her life and they were slowly building what looked like it could be the love match of the century. I’d never seen Delilah’s heart so free and easy.
“You okay, Johnson?” I tapped him on the arm.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “And just in case you’re wondering, no—I’m not pining over Delilah. I’m the one who decided I couldn’t handle a relationship. And frankly, it’s a good thing. My moods are swinging like crazy now that my powers are opening up. I’m happy one moment, pissed the next.
Not good boyfriend material. Sharah’s found someone in town who’s going to help me learn how to channel the energy.”
“Good, because unbridled psychic energy is dangerous for al concerned.” I stopped him as we stepped out of the elevator. “Truth time.”
“What?” His dark eyes glistened, and I resisted the impulse to reach up and brush back an unruly cowlick—it was so out of place on his meticulously groomed body that it distracted me.
“Are you sure you’re okay with my sister seeing someone else? Because if you have any thoughts of a reunion later, you’d better say something now. She’s fal ing, Chase. She’s fal ing for Shade like I’ve never seen her fal before.” I had no intention of letting him put her on the spot later, forcing her to make a choice she thought she’d already made.
He gazed at me, his eyes limpid, his expression torn. Then, slowly, he asked, “She real y loves this guy?”
“I think he’s the one, Chase.”
“Then I’l remain her blood brother, and I won’t interfere. Because I honestly don’t know what the hel ’s going to happen in my life.” He paused. “Can I ask you something, now?”
So relieved by his reply that I would have granted almost any favor, I nodded. “Ask away.”
“Do you think someone like Sharah might ever see me in anything but an official capacity?” He sounded hesitant, almost embarrassed to be asking.
I knew ful wel that Sharah was in love with the detective, but that was her place to answer, not mine. I gave Chase a soft smile. “Listen, you’re a catch. You’ve had your share of screwups, but, Johnson, you’re okay, and I think you’re going to make somebody happy someday. Could someone like Sharah be interested in you? I don’t see why not.”