The Billionaire's Heir (Sucubus For Hire Book 1)

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The Billionaire's Heir (Sucubus For Hire Book 1) Page 15

by Michael Don Anderson


  “Pardon?”

  “The goats.”

  She glanced at my beret. Trying to use imaginary x-ray vision to see my horns again. A little pale at my confession. “That’s a pretty dangerous appetite.”

  “I don’t usually consume so much. My regular supplier has been having problems coming up with livestock. I was trying to make up for a short and unintentional fast.”

  It was as much as I was willing to admit to the woman. There had been a case in the early 1900s of a succubus being jailed for killing her fiancé. Somewhere in one of the few Canadian territories that had tolerated preternaturals back then. She’d claimed it was accidental. That she’d tried to stop feeding to prove she wasn’t a danger.

  I understood just how stupid that had been. Didn’t know if it was the truth or a lie. But the idiots who jailed her had extended her fast. Unintentionally. They’d given her regular food. Like the other prisoners, while awaiting arraignment. On the sixth day, they found the entire jail complex filled with corpses. Even the female employees. No one ever made that mistake again.

  That succubus had been executed by beheading. They’d burned the body just to be safe. Thankfully, laws weren’t so barbaric any more. But if Wisniewski thought that I was fasting on purpose, she’d take action. It wasn’t legal for anything preternatural to fast. That was the difference between involuntary manslaughter and first degree murder with the intent to do great bodily harm. There was talk in the legislation to give it its own special name. Intentional carnage. Willful frenzy. Something like that.

  “Five goats do the trick?” She watched me cautiously. I saw a strange defocusing of her eyes. She was trying to see if she could feel my power getting away from me.

  “Yep. And don’t worry, I found a new supplier for regular feedings. Mankind’s still safe from the evil, succubus private-eye.” I spoke in a mocking tone. Not mean. Playful. She didn’t take it that way.

  “Wisniewski!” Hardwicke called from Janet’s office. Stopped her partner from whatever scathing retort had been on her lips with news. “Gibraltar won’t give Miss Savage permission to talk to us. But he’ll answer our questions personally. Said we could meet him at his offices in twenty minutes. Otherwise he’s got appointments scheduled the rest of the day.”

  “Fine.” Wisniewski glared at me one last time. “Keep yourself available. We’ll have more questions. I can promise you that.”

  “Schedule an appointment with Janet. I’ll certainly do my best.” I smiled, glad my glasses hid my eyes. They were hard. Angry. I may have sympathy for the woman, but I definitely didn’t like her attitude.

  When the Feds were gone, Janet came into the room. “I heard most of that.”

  “Eavesdropping?” I frowned. “Or have you bugged my office again?”

  She didn’t answer, which was answer enough. “Damn it, Janet!”

  “Oh, please! No Rocky Horror references! This is serious Bee!”

  “Accidental reference.” I smirked and covered my mouth. “Doesn’t make it less funny.”

  Janet ignored me. “That poor woman.”

  “She’s a hard ass. Scars or no. Be careful of her. Just because we had a little talk doesn’t mean she won’t jump on any chance to lock me away.”

  “But you’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Janet, you’re a dear. But even an agnostic like you should understand the danger of religious zeal. I may go to church every week, but Wisniewski still sees the Devil in me. A demon. Guilty until proven innocent. And even then, the standard of proof is much higher.”

  “So she might frame you?”

  I didn’t answer right away. It was a good question. Finally, I shook my head. “No. I think she’s an honest cop. But I think she’ll take the littlest scrap of evidence and run with it.” I sighed. “Enough about her. We have a case to solve. And a kidnapping to thwart.”

  “What about her, though?”

  I was confused. “Wisniewski’s out of our hair for now. Just be careful.”

  “No. I mean the woman watching the building.”

  I ran my nails along the wooden surface of my desk. “Could be anyone. Preternatural groupie. Hate monger. Law enforcement keeping an eye on me, no matter Hardwicke’s denials. As long as no one threatens you or the office, I’m not interested. At least, not until Vincent Gibraltar is found one way or another.”

  “If you say so.” Her expression said she didn’t agree. “What do we do about the dead goats?”

  “They’ll take them tomorrow when they bring the replacement.”

  Janet was horrified. “But the smell!”

  “Buy a fridge. One of those top-opening kind. Big enough to hold the bodies. We’ll keep the meat refrigerated. That way it won’t smell or spoil.”

  “People are going to eat that?” She shivered.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve never talked to anyone that’s eaten an animal I’ve drained. Actually, I haven’t fed from livestock since I was a child. People get less angry when all the rats and mice in an area die instead of a cow.”

  “What’s the budget on the fridge.”

  I looked at her long and hard. “Have we ever met?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Why are you asking me about things you usually handle? You know I don’t care about that stuff. Not where you’re good judgment is concerned.”

  “I—I don’t know. I’m suddenly afraid to make any decisions on my own.”

  I stared at her. She hadn’t been acting normal since the agents left. “You’ve dealt with the Feds before. Where’s my wildcat who backs down anything with two legs?”

  “I—I?” She took a step sideways and sagged. She hit her head against the doorjamb. Blood trickled into her hair.

  “Janet!” I rushed to her side. Felt a wave of power flow into me. Nothing I’d ever experienced before. Then memories flooded back. That sensation from the previous night. It hadn’t been a dream. Definitely the same soothing power. The way I made the goats feel even as I drained the life out of them.

  I dropped onto my knees. Unable to call upon my panic to fight it. Then I collapsed onto Janet, face first. Out before I finished falling.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I woke slowly. Weighed down by a tangible blackness. Like climbing up from a deep, dark cave. Thoughts didn’t come together in my head. Not in any logical fashion. All I knew is I needed to get higher. Toward a sense of light at the top of the darkness. I moaned and my lids fluttered. My senses kicking in as I tore through the last layers of shadows.

  “About time you woke.” Janet’s voice.

  I opened my eyes. My leather jacket was folded. Placed under my head like a pillow. Janet peered down at me. Sitting on one of the client chairs. She hadn’t moved my body other than placing the jacket beneath me.

  “What happened?” I saw the dab of blood on her temple. “Are you alright?”

  “Superficial.” She frowned unhappily. “I didn’t know who to call. You’re never sick. You don’t have a GP.”

  “This isn’t an illness. Someone did this to me. To us.”

  Janet glanced at my desk. Her eyes wide. Her lips pressed tightly together fretting. “They left a note.”

  I tried to lift my head. To sit up. There wasn’t any pain and the last of the darkness bled away. My muscles worked without effort, so I stood. “Who?”

  I asked the question as if Janet should know. She wouldn’t have a clue. I knew, though. More than just a guess. Some preternatural instinct or connection with the power that knocked us out. It had been the woman watching from across the street. The same person who’d hid her head and eyes like I did.

  My heart pounded. My first thought wasn’t that it was just another succubus. A stranger. Wishful thinking of something else, I thought it must be a closer connection. Personal.

  The possibility of family overwhelmed me. A sister or aunt. Cousin. Anything. Why else seek me out? Why else leave a note?

  Janet pointed at a whit
e pastry box and a piece of paper folded in two on the box. “I already read it. I don’t understand.”

  I reached for the note, ignoring the box. Unfolded it slowly. Almost reverently. Afraid of what I would discover. Hope was a powerful thing. Not always good.

  I scanned the strange writing. Done by a female hand. Not in any language I understood. Not even one I’d seen before. Pictographs. Unfamiliar shapes. It had the feel of great age. Unrefined in the way that modern languages had become.

  “Did the security cameras catch our visitor?”

  Janet shook her head. “They were off, remember? The FBI needed to see that earlier footage. It meant cancelling the live recording. It’s automatic. I never thought we’d need to do both at the same time. I’m sorry, Bee. I didn’t get an overlapping system.”

  “Stop fretting. Not your fault. We really shouldn’t have needed a camera in the middle of the day. Not along a crowded street.” I stared at the box. “Can you please step out of the room. Just in case.”

  She stared at me, sheepishly pushing her glasses up her nose. “It’s not a bomb. I peeked inside already.”

  “Janet! That was very dangerous.”

  “I wasn’t going to leave you alone. And it’s not like I had anything else to do the last twenty minutes.”

  “Twenty?” I was unhappy with that news. I glanced at the clock. Three-fifteen. Still plenty of time before I met with Beverly for drinks. But that was a long time to be knocked unconscious. “So what’s inside then?”

  “See for yourself.”

  “Why the blazes doesn’t anyone ever answer my questions?” I laughed bitterly. Unamused by my question. Less happy with Janet’s flash of self-reproach.

  I was frustrated but I didn’t want to get angry at my friend. She’d been frightened by the attack. Hell, so was I, for that matter. I’d never met anyone who could whammy me like that.

  Maybe it had been a spell. No. That was unlikely. Witches usually left me alone. After all, I advocated for women’s rights.

  I thought about the attack. My assumptions. It was definitely the same energy that had put me to sleep the night before. I could remember the previous attack now. No harm done in either case. If the intent had been to kill me, they’d had two opportunities.

  Hope warred with my objective analysis of the two incidents. I wanted it to be someone like me. Someone related to me. Found after years of searching. But why not reveal themselves to me directly? Why a note in this strange language?

  And there was one more thing. Her power. I couldn’t do what she’d been done to me. Not without draining the person’s life. Killing them.

  Or could I? I blinked in annoyance. I didn’t know. It’s not like I’d gotten a manual. Orphaned before I could learn anything about my abilities.

  Reluctantly, I slid the box-top upward. Off the base. No explosion. No smell of blood. Or bodily functions. Just a cluster of tiny flowers. Some type of Jasmine. Fragrant. Small and white. Shaped like delicate stars.

  “Flowers aren’t usually threatening.” I glanced at Janet. “There wasn’t anything else inside?”

  “I didn’t touch the contents. Just peeked. And no, nothing flew out if that’s what you mean.” Janet’s eyes were haunted, gaze flickering toward the entrance to our offices. “Why knock us out to deliver a peace offering?”

  “Scan the note. Send it to anyone discrete we know that deals in archaic languages.” I secured the lid back over the flowers, just in case. “Include details about the Jasmine. In case it has ritual significance. Oh, and send it to Teresa Waldheim. Tell her it’s a hush hush case.”

  “That professor at UCLA with the cheating husband? I dunno, Bee. You may have helped her, but I think she still blames the bearer of that particular bad news.”

  “No. You’re right.” I thought about our conversation about vampires. I hadn’t helped us get closer. “She’s angry enough not to be professional. How about the gay couple in Santa Barbara?”

  “They were grad students.”

  “Wasn’t the dad of one a retired linguist? Had a lot of books on dead languages. He might know who to ask.”

  “Could post it on reddit,” suggested Janet.

  “And have everyone and their kitten know what it says once it’s translated?” I stared at her. The suggestion wasn’t all bad. “On the other hand—don’t scan the whole thing. Maybe pick a sequence of the writing that looks like a word and send that.”

  “But I don’t understand, Bee! Why would someone send something in a language you don’t know?”

  “Maybe I’m supposed to know it.” I didn’t want to scare Janet. Maybe if my mother had lived, I’d have been taught how to read the note. Maybe it was my family’s native tongue. Why shouldn’t an ancient preternatural race like succubi have their own writing system?

  “What are you going to be doing in the meanwhile? Shouldn’t we report this to the FBI?”

  “Hell no!” I laughed at the very thought. “This is personal. Until I know otherwise. She could’ve hurt us. Kidnapped us. Killed us for that matter. I don’t think we’re dealing with an enemy.”

  She eyeballed me like I was out of my mind. “I don’t like how they’re stacking up as a friend.”

  “Just do it, Janet.”

  “Bossy, bossy, bossy,” she muttered and went back to her desk.

  I glanced at the clock again. Habit. I couldn’t track the sun like vampires or werewolves. The day was slipping away. And I still had no idea who had taken Anton Thrace. No time for hope. Not for me anyway. Better to save it all for Vincent.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Blake’s office was on the fourth floor. Dark woods. Polished chrome. A view of the ocean. It looked expensive. But felt soulless.

  He looked up as I barged past his secretary. “I’m busy.” My expression got his attention. Even with the sunglasses hiding my eyes. He dropped his pen. “What happened?”

  “Anton Thrace was kidnapped.”

  “From Mr. Gibraltar’s office? Not possible.” He glanced past me to his secretary, fuming at my back. “It’s all right, Dana. This is important.”

  I waited for the door to close before I spoke. “From my office. When your grandfather showed up instead of you.”

  “He said he’d handle it. Why didn’t he call me?” A troubled expression crossed his face. “How’d you get past my security?”

  “I’ve been given full access by the old man. I guess that means leaving me alone with you.”

  “Fine. What do you want? Why was the werewolf taken?”

  I studied Blake’s expression. He wasn’t a very good liar. Unless he was so good he could pretend to be bad. “I was hoping you might have an idea.”

  “Grandfather would never pay ransom for him. It’s part of the contract. Professional risk.”

  “So it’s either about screwing the search for Vincent or someone’s trying to scare your grandfather.” I paced back and forth. Trying not to gaze out at the ocean-blue horizon. Better to ignore the sun slowly dropping towards it. Time running out. “Was Vincent’s kidnapping about money? Or has this whole thing been about power? Your gut.”

  “Power? No one gains any power if Vincent is killed.” I saw the look in his eyes. The loathing.

  “Or if something worse happens to him? If he’s made into something preternatural?”

  “Something undead. I have no problem with you, Miss Savage. You’re a living, breathing woman. Maybe not completely human. But you’re more human than those bloodsuckers.”

  “Your grandfather spends a lot of money on security. I’ve been told that a bad job could cost Amperdyne billions.” An idea flashed into my head. “What if this isn’t really about Vincent at all? Are you sure this isn’t about hurting Amperdyne? That your family’s only incidental?”

  “If they’d killed Vincent, dropped his body someplace public, that’d hurt the company more than his disappearance. Even Grandfather thinks Vinnie went along willingly.”

  “Maybe taking an
innocent life’s too much for whoever took him. Maybe they only want to hurt Amperdyne. Not any one else. Not permanently at least.”

  “Only the Company would know the answer to that question.”

  “And they aren’t going to share that with me.”

  “Besides, Miss Savage, motive isn’t the real problem. Knowing why someone took Vinnie won’t get him back.”

  “Vinnie? That’s twice you’ve slipped into a nickname. You said you hardly know your cousin.”

  “Maureen’s called me several times. Worried sick about him. She’s tried to find ways to spend time with him over the past few years. Says family’s too important. She calls him ‘Vinnie’ when we’re alone.”

  “I suppose she’s the one family member, besides Vincent, I haven’t gotten to talk to.”

  I only had two more hours before I was supposed to meet Beverly. For some reason, keeping my word to her and showing up on time was more important than this case. Teresa had already made me feel like a jerk for not calling her in months. I needed to prove to myself that I could be a good friend to someone. That there was more to my life than just work.

  My mind drifted back to the mysterious note and Jasmine. Maybe I did have something more. Or would. The possibility that I had family watching me. Reaching out. It excited and terrified me both.

  “You can’t be seen meeting with Grandfather, then me and then going to see Maureen. If you’re being tracked. Watched. They’ll put us all together.”

  “I’m not stupid. You met with me once already. It would be odd if I weren’t consulting you about the case from a legal standpoint. In fact, I should be dealing with you more than Gibraltar himself. Arrange it. Schedule a meeting for me with your sister for tomorrow. Not too early. I’ve a feeling I’m going to have a late night.”

  “Vampires?”

  Not who I had in mind. But I suspected it wasn’t going to be all pleasure before the night was done. “Yeah, them, too.”

 

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