by L. J. Red
“I take it you’re happy with this?”
“Happy? I’m…” Cleaver pulled himself together, straightening to attention instinctively. “I mean, yes, we can do a lot with this,” he said. Hell, they could finance the whole project twice over. He’d been thinking too small.
The man smiled thinly. “We too have a great many plans. I’m so glad we can work together. The money will be transferred into your account within the hour,” he finished abruptly, standing up. His bodyguards stepped forward without needing a gesture.
“You aren’t going to eat?” Cleaver asked.
“No.” The man glanced around, an expression of distaste appearing on his face for a second. “These places are so tiresome. But please”—he wiped his expression clean and once more wore that slight, kindly smile—“order whatever you like. Vitriol will take the tab.” He laid a business card on the table. “Should you need to reach us,” he said, laying his hand on Cleaver’s shoulder for a moment. “I am sure this partnership will help us achieve great things,” he said, the pressure on Cleaver’s shoulder increasing for a second. Cleaver swallowed nervously, but then the man had lifted his hand and quickly, quietly, walked away.
Cleaver loosened his tie and breathed out a shuddery breath. He picked up the card. On one side there was a phone number and on the other, no name, but the letters V.I.T.R.I.O.L. embossed in plain black type and beneath them the symbol, the one from the man’s ring: a circle cut in half vertically and then into quarters only on the right. Weird, must be some kind of logo. He dismissed it, tucking the card into his pocket along with the slip of paper. What did it matter? His spirits rose as he gestured broadly for the waiter to come back. They were backing his plans; they were going to make his dreams a reality. He didn’t need to worry about a damn thing. His future was secure. Brightbrook was going to become a reality, and when it did everything would change.
Chapter 20
Brigit stared at her computer screen. Thanks to the information given to them by Mr. Neilson, they were able to start tracking the vehicle the kidnappers had used. Finally having a lead, Brigit had thrown herself into the case. She owed it to Sparrow to find out who had taken her, and she desperately hoped she could find them before it was too late. The fact that working on the case gave her a distraction from thinking about Rune was just another advantage.
Not that he’d come near her the past few days. He’d been avoiding her ever since that day. Ever since the moment he’d told her she was his soulmate. He hadn’t said it again, had barely said anything to her at all. Brigit had been too afraid to ask Dana what it might mean. How it worked to be a soulmate to a vampire. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to be his soulmate. Whatever metaphysical bullshit was going on between them, it could damn well go back where it came from.
The only problem was, while Brigit’s mind might be on board with the whole ‘ignore Rune’ strategy, her body most definitely wasn’t.
Brigit glanced over the top of her laptop at Rune. He was back behind his desk on the opposite side of the room, scanning through hours and hours of video footage to try and catch sight of the van. His ridiculously broad shoulders were hunched over a laptop that looked like a child’s toy against his bulk.
Brigit had never been so attracted to a big guy before. She was petite and she always had been, so most guys were big compared to her. But there was something about the sheer breadth of Rune’s frame, the height and strength in his body, that set off a chain reaction in her body, down her spine and straight between her legs. She shifted her seat. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up again, exposing his thickly muscled forearms, his big hands on the keyboard, one moving to engulf the mouse. She couldn’t stop imagining the way it felt to have those hands on her. The sense-memory flashed through her mind, all heat and desire. The pencil in her hand snapped. Rune looked up. His eyes were dark with delicious knowledge. Fuck. She tore her eyes away. Stop, dammit. Stop thinking about him. She needed to get out of here.
“I’m getting some food,” she said, walking quickly to the door.
“Hey, wait up,” Agent Franklin said. “I’ll come with you. I mean, if you want?”
“Sure.” Brigit waited in the doorway impatiently. Half of her didn’t want to look at Rune, the other half wanted to do more than just look. “You know what, why don’t you meet me outside?” she said, walking out before Franklin could answer, feeling the tingling sensation of Rune’s eyes on her back the whole way out.
The sun had only gone down half an hour ago and the city was still shifting its gear from work life into nightlife. But the diner across from the precinct was doing bustling business and Brigit settled into her regular booth, Agent Franklin taking the opposite seat.
They ordered and Brigit finally breathed easy. She gave Franklin a measuring look. “So how did you end up a Fed?”
Agent Franklin shrugged. “I never wanted anything else,” she said. “I always wanted to work for the FBI and I guess I never considered anything different.”
Brigit recognized that single-minded intensity. It’s how she felt about being a cop.
The food arrived on the table, and the two of them set themselves to the serious business of eating.
“Wow, I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” Franklin said, finishing her fries.
“It’s easy to forget when you’re in the middle of the case.”
Of course, it was easier to forget nowadays because Dana didn’t always eat with her anymore. She didn’t need to eat as much, being a vampire, and Brigit imagined some of her meals were coming in the dark red liquid variety. But the thought of her friend drinking blood, even if it was from willing humans, freaked her out too much to focus on it.
“So, what’s the deal with Novak?” Brigit asked. “He doesn’t seem all that invested in this task force.”
Franklin shrugged. “I’m not sure…” She rubbed her fingers on her napkin nervously. “I shouldn’t have blown up at him before. He’s good at his job, I mean he must be, Morrell picked him…” She trailed off. “I haven’t worked with him before.”
Brigit relented; she knew what it was like being saddled with partners you didn’t like. Hell, she’d been stuck with Sanders for a whole week when Dana had injured herself in a takedown a couple of years ago. That had been the actual worst. She’d turned up at the precinct and within minutes she’d wanted to punch his face in, and that was before he opened his mouth.
Brigit turned the conversation to inconsequential things—how long she’d been in the city, if she had family nearby, what places she should visit on her days off, that kind of thing—before finishing up and heading back.
“My name’s Lily, by the way,” Agent Franklin said as they crossed the street back to the precinct. “I mean Franklin is fine here”—she gestured to the precinct—“but if you wanted…”
“Brigit,” Brigit said, offering her hand. Lily shook it with a quick grin.
Brigit felt a little more centered as they walked through the bullpen but, reaching their room, she was pissed to see Novak had Cleaver on his screen once more; the man was talking about anti-vampire weapons, some kind of development program he was running in south Illinois. Dana had headphones in, she must be listening to recordings. Rune was impassive as usual. Brigit glared at Novak. “You gotta watch this asshole here? Can’t you do that shit in your free time?”
“What’s your deal?” he asked. “I thought you cops would want anti-vampire weapons. That would’ve helped with the Monster of Chicago.”
“Sure, in the hands of trained professionals,” she said. “Not in the hands of whatever random steroided-up Rambos he pulls in.”
“Cleaver wants real change. He wants to develop weapons that will work against all vampires.” He glanced warily at Rune, seeming to remember who he was in the room with.
“Please,” Rune said, flashing his fangs, “go on.”
There was an awkward silence.
“What I want to know is, how is he developing these new weapons,”
Agent Franklin said, walking over to her desk. “I can’t see any vampires lining up to work with him, considering his anti-vampire principles. It seems weird to me. How does he even know they’ll work?” She sat down, looked at her computer, then shot up again. “Holy shit! I got a match.”
“For the van?” Brigit asked, hurrying over
“Oh, no,” Franklin said, glancing at her apologetically. “It’s for the black-market blood ring I was tracking. They’re running the shop out of here.” She pointed at the location on the map.
It wasn’t getting them any closer to finding Sparrow and the other missing people. But it was something. She waved to catch Dana’s attention and waited for her partner to pull off her headphones. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a raid.”
Chapter 21
Brigit checked the straps on her bulletproof vest one final time and traded looks with the others in the van. Dana was taking point and she silently gestured for Brigit and Rune to follow behind her as they made their way out. Franklin and Novak would stay behind in the van, tracking them and guiding them on the radio. They weren’t the only team. Three more were ranged around the building, covering the back and side entrances.
Dana and Brigit moved together, familiar with each other’s movement, not needing to speak, silently aware of what each other would do next. The surprising thing was, Rune fit easily into their duo, following Dana’s lead and protecting their backs as if it was natural for him, as if this was what he was made to do, which, Brigit realized, he kind of was on account of him being an ancient vampire warrior. Still, he let Dana, a woman, take the lead without any of the drama Brigit had been steeling herself for. Brigit and Dana had faced enough pushback when they were starting out as cops for Brigit to know that was a rare quality. It was kind of refreshing to see a hardened warrior like Rune not even blink as Dana gave the orders. Not that Brigit would want Dana’s responsibility. She knew her own strengths and they definitely lay in being Dana’s second.
They approached the door, crouching low. “Police,” Dana shouted and they rammed the door open, moving in a chain, hands on each other’s shoulders.
“Clear,” Brigit shouted, sweeping the room on her side.
“Clear,” Rune echoed behind them, his deep voice resonating through the radios as well as the air.
“Up the stairs, to your right,” Agent Franklin’s voice said in their ears, and Dana led them through the building.
At first, it seemed empty, just a derelict warehouse, graffiti on the walls, the stale smell of urine and trash. Old shopping carts were wedged on the staircase landing, and a tired, stained mattress sagged against one wall.
Then the shatter of gunfire split the air and they all dived for cover, Rune and Brigit on one side, Dana pinned on the wall opposite.
Brigit swore, ducking back. She couldn’t tell how many there were. “We’re taking fire,” she said. She heard gunshots echoing down the radio from the other teams. The black-market traders must be holed up in there.
“There’s a door to your right,” Franklin said. “Can you get to it?”
Brigit looked behind her. She could, but Dana couldn’t; she looked back at her partner.
“Go,” Dana motioned. She was ducked down on the staircase, fully protected from the gunfire. Brigit cut to the side, Rune following her footsteps. She swept the room quickly and moved through to the next. It was clear as well, and she stepped forward before halting. Rune almost went past her and she shot out her arm to stop him. “Look,” she said, pointing at the wire run across the doorway. “Booby trapped.”
“Well spotted,” he said.
Brigit grinned, sharp. Her adrenaline pumping. They stepped over the wire and continued carefully through the rooms. Finally, they picked their way around. Brigit saw the guys who had Dana pinned down.
“We’re in position,” she said.
“Beta team as well,” she heard through the radio.
“On my signal,” Dana said. “Three, two, one, now!”
As one they opened fire, the second team rushing the door, Brigit laying covering fire as they pinned the traders down. Half a minute of frantic, chaotic noise later, it was over. The traders were on the ground and the police had the room.
Brigit straightened up and walked in. She helped round up the traders, cuffing them and leading them out to the vans for questioning. A handful had wounds and the ambulances rolled up closer to deal with them. Three were dead, and Brigit watched them get rolled into the black bags with a heavy feeling in her stomach.
Finally, the traders were cleared out and the police began to sweep the room. She stood against the wall, looking over the crates they pulled out from the big metal cupboards the traders had installed. Behind her, uniformed officers were checking the exterior hallways, looking for hidden panels and further stores, and the forensics team, with their booties and masks, were carefully going through the items that had been found: Vials of vampire blood and other body parts. Clearly, they’d decided to get creative with their marketing. Apparently, there was a roaring trade in relics and fetishes.
More than that, Brigit saw stacks of stakes, wooden bullets and… “Hold up, what are those?”
The tech bagging them looked up at her. “Looks like some kind of powder grenade,” she said. “See here, the catch, and these are the canisters.” She pointed at the stacks of vials in straw-packed boxes.
“They were with the other anti-vampire weapons?” Brigit asked, looking over the matte black surfaces of the grenades. The tech nodded. This was bad. There was only one group Brigit knew of developing anti-vampire weapons. Could HUNT have something to do with this? Even as she thought it, she knew it had to be true. They couldn’t be getting money from official avenues. Cleaver could, sure; she’d seen the headlines about his new ‘project,’ but HUNT? Not officially, no way. Black-market trading? That was a clever way to get the money they needed, and if they got to sell their weapons that way too? All the better for them.
“Mark these for Agent Franklin to look at, will you?” she asked the tech before turning away.
Figuring she may as well make herself useful, she grabbed a pair of plastic gloves and pulled them on before walking any closer.
“What have we got?” she asked Dana, who was carefully bagging up a sample of what looked like human hair. Brigit wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“A lot of weird stuff,” Dana said with a sigh. “Blood in the refrigerators over there, and then body parts that probably aren’t even from vampires. We have to start looking through records of grave desecration because there are bits of bones over there that look old.” She pointed to another straw-filled box with white and pale gray shards sticking out. Staring at it, Brigit realized it was probably part of a shoulder blade.
“That’s disgusting,” she said, standing to the side as one of the forensics people carried through a crate of bagged-up evidence. “It’s like we’ve gone back to the dark ages—grave robbing and wooden stakes.” She moved down from the table where Dana was working through body parts and began to bag and tag the amulets and pieces of jewelry the traders had been hawking as protective charms against vampires. She’d sorted through about half of them when she caught sight of a glinting amber stone in a very familiar star setting.
Apprehension trickled through her as she pushed the cheap bits and pieces of jewelry—glass beads, bone and ivory—to the side to expose the amber star necklace she had last seen around Sparrow’s neck.
“That was worn by the woman who was kidnapped on the night we met,” Rune said from behind her.
Brigit hadn’t heard him approach, and in shock she dropped the amber necklace. Rune’s hand shot out and grabbed it, the chain tangling between their fingers, pulling their hands close enough to touch.
Despite the gloves Brigit was wearing, the sensation rippled right through, across her skin like electricity. She looked up and met Rune’s eyes. The pale blue filled with a nameless emotion, quickly banked. He dropped his hand.
> Brigit swallowed roughly. “What the hell is Sparrow’s necklace doing in a black-market shop selling vampire parts? Could it be connected to HUNT? Could they have been involved in her kidnapping?” she mused aloud.
“Some of these body parts are human,” Rune murmured, stepping closer as a uniform pushed past him carrying a box of evidence.
“Shit. They could be using the humans they’ve kidnapped to fuel their trade.” That was sick. Brigit hated the thought of finding Sparrow’s DNA in one of these boxes. “But what about the vampire parts. That skull there has fangs. It’s not human. Or the blood.” She looked up at the refrigerators. It didn’t make any sense. They’d know if vampires were being attacked. It was the kind of crime the team was formed to look into. “Whatever HUNT is doing, we need to put an end to it.” She looked up at Rune, for once seeing total agreement in his eyes. She only hoped they weren’t too late to save Sparrow.
Chapter 22
Rune rubbed his gloved fingertips together. He would like to blame the powdered, plastic gloves for the unfamiliar sensation running through him but that would be a lie. It was Brigit. It was the lingering sensation from her fingertips. He turned away, grabbing one of the small bags from the side and passing it to her to drop the necklace into, trying to hide the tremor that still ran through him.
He was hyperaware of her, ever since they had begun the raid, since the moment he had stepped out of the van. He had not expected to find it so easy to fight beside her. He had expected the protective instincts from the bond to rise and choke him, but instead they lay quiet. If anything, the bond seemed to be stronger when they fought beside each other. Humming as if content.
Could he have made a mistake? Taken his protective instincts for the bond when in fact they were merely old habits, old remembered traditions?
Rune didn’t know; he didn’t want to consider it too deeply. Consider the fact that he might have been… wrong.
