Of Scions and Men

by Courtney Sloan

  “Well, our guy is going more high class with each attempt,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  I put down the three reports so he could look on with me. “He started out with a girl in the Chicago CBD who worked the streets–Elisa. See, she is listed as having several priors for Blood Trafficking? Given her young age, that can only mean she was selling it off the markets. So, an easy mark with a reason to wander away with a sketchy vamp.”

  “Someone who wouldn’t be noticed other than a quick report soon forgotten.”

  “Exactly. We call those high risk victims in Blood Theft.”

  “Morbid classification system,” he quipped.

  I continued, “Also, when it didn’t work, she got to keep her head. They noted the bite marks, but probably figured it was a John’s touch. But he didn’t stick with easy targets. Next, he went a little bit higher on the food chain.”

  Carson nodded. “The next one was a medical assistant if I remember correctly.”

  “Yes, for a little clinic in South Side,” I agreed, focusing on her page.

  “Is that close to where we were today?”

  “Nope. Chicago is big, but as far as subdivisions go, Skokie and South Side are about as far apart as you get.”

  Carson scrunched his face. “I think they took more time with the second one–Linda, I believe her name was.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He leaned over me and pointed to the second report. “The medical examiner notes bruising on her wrists and neck made before death, but the crime scene displayed no signs of a real struggle, not even overturned furniture like we saw today.”

  I skimmed the examiner’s findings. “They roughed her up without touching anything else in the scene.”

  “Why did they suddenly become more vicious? What changed?”

  I marched over and studied the photos on the sidebar. “I don’t know. I guess she could have put up more of a fight, but it doesn’t seem that way unless they cleaned up afterwards.” I touched the picture of Linda’s severed head. “What did you do to piss them off?”

  “Then there was this last one, Reagan. She lived in a splendid home, and she didn’t work. She was a student.”

  I followed Carson to where he’d displayed her reports and crime scene photos. “Yes, at Northwestern. Ley Geology. Nothing connects her with the other two.”

  The doorbell rang. We froze. I gave Carson a look before stepping to the window. “It’s not Lyle’s car.”

  “Could be Nadia. She’s still blocking me out.” He peered down at the floor, worry etched into the stress lines on his jaw.

  Pulling just a bit, I concentrated until I could see through Devon’s eyes. “They’re still together, but out of the conference room. Going down some hallway. They must have slept and then had a meeting.”

  Pain seared through my senses as Devon realized I was watching.

  How the… Stop that, or someone will notice. We are about to get out of here. Don’t ruin it, he said.

  I withdrew from the pain, a hand on my head.

  “Are you all right?” Carson asked.

  “Fine. Devon just didn’t like me looking in. They will be coming back soon, so we should get an update.”

  “What, did you just–”

  Shahid opened the door to the office. “There’s a guy here, a shifter, searching for you. Said Lyle said to find you. He’s really agitated.”

  I exchanged wary looks with both boys before I left the room with a sigh. “What now?”

  tall, well-muscled man waited at the door, gazing around at the neighborhood, shifting from one foot to the other. His nerves were set to fight or flight. I just hoped he made the right decision between the two.

  I smiled my most friendly smile, but kept an even, fighting-ready balance in my stance and checked that Shahid was close by. As always, he was. “Can I help you?” I asked our guest.

  Upon seeing me, he planted both feet to add more height. “You’re Rowan?” He scanned me up and down. From his expression, I wasn’t sure I lived up to whatever Lyle had told him about me.

  “Yes. Lyle sent you?” I asked.

  “He said if they came to his place to leave and find you at your house or here. You weren’t at your home, so I’m here. Lyle said you’d help.”

  I wished Lyle would give me a heads up when I should be expecting furry company. I made a mental note to ream him later. Using my enhanced senses, I took a deep breath and pegged him as a wolf, though not too high on the pack pole. “Who is ‘they?’”

  Realization of his mistake crossed his face, and he held his tongue as if afraid to say more.

  Carson stepped up beside me. “Is everything all right?”

  Again the wolf appraised us, but his eyes raked much slower over Carson, and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. I glanced between the two. Hot dog, this guy played for Lyle’s team.

  I pushed Carson back with my arm and made a welcoming sweep. “Look, if you’re a friend of Lyle’s, you’re welcome here. We’re just about to have dinner. Would you like to join us?”

  Similar to humans, homosexual shifters were a much lower percentage in the population. In fact, Lyle was the only one I’d met in my lifetime. He had assured me there were more.

  The wolf lumbered in, his senses still firing in overtime. “Whatever,” he muttered as he passed me.

  Shahid strode up beside me, placing a protective hand on my shoulder. The wolf puffed up tall, staring the security officer down. Wolf dominance plays, sheesh. Unpredictable and unnecessary. Shahid wouldn’t eat him… unless he caused too much of a problem, at least.

  I took a step away from Shahid and stared up at the wolf–as much as my five foot seven frame would allow me. “I asked if you would like something to eat.” Adding a hint of power to make me the bigger predator in the room, I waited with an air of impatience.

  After a few seconds of staring into my eyes, the wolf took a half step back and dropped his eyes. “No, ma’am.”

  “Good.” I turned my back to him and stalked into the living room, taking the other gentlemen with me. I itched to ask him more about who showed up at Lyle’s. Was he in trouble and wasn’t telling me about it?

  I held my questions. This wolf seemed all right to me. If I pushed him, he’d just lie. Once you get someone lying to you, it’s so much harder to ever get the truth again.

  “What should we call you?” I hoped that would give him enough room not to lie. Maybe revealing something would lessen the pressure to hide whatever he obviously wasn’t ready for. I went to the mantle and crushed up some white sage, hoping it would heal his obvious unease and depression. Not to mention my own. I may not have graduated in ley workings, but I remembered some of my old college training.

  “Can I help?” Will crept up beside me, eyeing the man on the couch. He always loved being useful.

  “Sure. Use the holder on the coffee table and light the incense for the room.”

  “You got it.” He grinned.

  The effects were fast. The wolf took a seat and breathed deeply, and my muscles relaxed along with the tension around my eyes.

  Why is there a wolf on my couch?

  I jumped at Devon’s sudden reconnection. A quick gander over to Carson showed he had the faraway expression of someone else in his head, too. We were both back on the clock again.

  Friend of Lyle’s. Won’t be staying long.

  Devon’s intrigue spilled through our link. A friend of Lyle’s? Tell him he is welcome to stay if he needs to.

  At Devon’s thought, I inspected the wolf again while he spread further on the couch. Was he more than just a friend to Lyle? I hadn’t heard of any long term “friends,” but this guy had been staying at his place. Now he was much more interesting.

  A hand took my elbow. Carson pulled me over. “I believe we have more pressing matters.”

  “True, and the lords and masters are on their way back.” I turned to the wolf. “We will be in the study. Through th
ere.” I pointed. “Devon says you are more than welcome to stay, and Lyle should be here any time now.”

  The wolf didn’t budge. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. Had he fallen asleep? Guess that meant he was staying. After a shrug, I proceeded with Carson toward the study.

  “John,” the wolf muttered.

  “Excuse me?” I said over my shoulder.

  “You can call me John.”

  I smiled and kept moving. “Marie, we have another guest for a while.”

  ross-checking the names of the vampires rejected for scions didn’t lend the epiphany I’d hoped for. We grouped them by locations, by ethnicity, by age. Other than finding out more Hispanic vampires had been rejected for scions than any other race, we discovered nothing that led us to a direct answer.

  I took another piece of bread, ran it around the bottom of the bowl, and sopped up the last little bit of stew I could. Waste not, want not, especially when it was Marie’s good food.

  “How did those TV detectives always figure this out in forty minutes or less?” Carson held his head, staring at the papers before him.

  “They had a script,” I offered.

  “I’m home!” Devon’s voice rang clear through the house. Carson wasted no time racing out of the study. I got up and stretched, then followed down the wood-paneled hall to the last opening on the right.

  In the living room, Carson had Nadia in his arms. The soft, electrical lighting highlighted her hair and made her appear younger. Or maybe that was just him. Their reunion was public viewing rated, but only just. Their closeness was weird, but it worked somehow.

  “Devon!” Will’s squeal only came seconds before his motorized scooter brought him into the living room. He raced on the Spanish tile before jumping off and tackling Devon into a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  Devon enveloped him, a big, stupid smile painted on his face. Devon was judgmental and elitist, but seeing him relax into Will’s hug, my chest loosened too. Observing them, I had to admit: he really cared for Will, gifts and manipulation aside. A flutter built in my stomach. I hadn’t realized how nervous I’d been about Devon being taken by Romaric until right now.

  His bright eyes met mine over Will’s head. Damn this bond. At least he didn’t say anything.

  He knelt by my brother. “You earned it. Standing against bullies separates us heroes from the bad guys. But don’t do it too often, or your sister might skin both of us.”

  “You can count on it,” I said, still leaning on the wood paneling across the room and unable to wipe the smile off my lips. The images I’d gotten all day from him tickled my thoughts. My grin fell. “Devon, are we all right? You’ve been giving me the heebie-jeebies all day.”

  Nadia glared at Devon. “You’ve been keeping contact this whole time? If they knew…”

  Devon’s eye twitched, but that was the only tell to give away his stress. He recovered and winked at her. “But they didn’t.” Shifting his gaze to me, he asked, “How much did you pick up on?”

  “Not much. Conference room. People yelling. You have to solve this, which means I have to solve this.”

  He shook his head. “No, we have to solve it.” He eyed my brother. “Will, can you and Rowan stay here a while? We have lots of boring work to do, but you can have the run of your sections of the house, and Marie will make you anything you want.”

  His ten year old frame buzzed with excitement, but intelligence in his eyes showed his skepticism. “Are we in trouble?”

  I paced the distance between us, no longer able to take Will’s worry at grown up problems. He’d had enough of that. “No, buddy,” I said, “I just have to work a lot right now, and it will be a big favor to me if I don’t have to commute so much. You still have to follow our rules, not Devon’s, including bedtime and eating.” I shifted my gaze to Devon.

  “Yes, yes, yes. I got it,” Will replied. “Thank you, Ro. I can’t wait for my friends to see Shahid bring me in the limo again. Daniel will barf with envy.”

  He continued to gush with excitement, but Marie stepped in from the doorway. “Come now, William. Let’s do dessert and TV while these guys do boring stuff.”

  I watched them leave, and Devon turned to me with the biggest victory smile. He took a step toward me.

  I crossed my arms. “This is temporary until the danger has passed. You can’t get to me through him.”

  Devon stopped on a dime and took a step back as if I’d hit him. His shoulders tightened as his eyes widened. “I’m not trying to,” he said with tight lips.

  “Sure, whatever, fine. Just so long as we’re clear.” He’d spoiled Will before when he’d wanted us to move in with him three years ago. It had ended with me missing several scheduled feedings and him nearly ripping my throat out. He’d stopped, and I had thought he’d learned his lesson. Maybe not.

  A laugh from the couch turned both our heads in John’s direction. The wolf laid on it like he owned it. A false confidence showed through his stretched out, relaxed posture, but his eyes were darting around at all of us. Shifters–especially predator species shifters–and vampires didn’t mix well. I’m sure it had something to do with competing food chains or some crap, but at least John didn’t appear like the whipped pup he’d been when he arrived.

  “You must be Lyle’s friend?” Devon squared his shoulders.

  “We’re calling him John,” I provided.

  “Well, John, I’m glad to give you sanctuary until the coast is clear. Then I expect you to make yourself scarce with all haste.”

  The wolf narrowed his eyes, but nodded.

  “Isn’t Devon just a dear?”

  Lyle’s voice behind us caught me by surprise. I hadn’t heard him come in. The apex-predator pissing contest had seen to that. “Norman, should we let them continue to claw at each other, or should we bring some class to this show?”

  A dumpy man of about sixty years stood next to Lyle. His balding hair was covered under his ball cap, and stubble dotted his face. His flannel shirt stood out from a slight pot belly, making his jeans ride at his hips more from necessity than fashion. Robert “Norman” Christie may not have appeared impressive, but he was the only medium I trusted enough to put on speed dial. That he’d lived so long as a medium and was still sane–well, sane for a medium–was impressive.

  He regarded the room with wide eyes. I wasn’t sure if he was awed by the décor, or if Devon had an infestation. Maybe I should have lit a different incense to run any spirits off. That wasn’t likely, given how much ghosts despised being around vampires. You’d think all the undead would get along, but no.

  Before Devon could take insult at Lyle’s words or the wolf’s posture, I marched over and hugged Norman. “Thanks for coming. I owe you one.”

  He focused on me, then blinked rapidly as if surprised I was there. What had he been seeing a minute ago?

  He smiled. “You owe me a burger, too.”

  “How about I do you one better? How does stew and fresh baked bread sound?”

  His smile grew. “I suppose that will do.”

  I turned to the gathered audience. “All right, then. All those working on the case, into the study.” I gestured for Carson and Nadia to take the lead, and noticed Devon and Lyle stalling in the back, whispering, their heads close together and their expressions tight. I slowed and extended my hearing.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game. Keep her out of it,” Devon all but hissed at Lyle.

  “I know what I’m doing. They’ll destroy them all if I don’t.”

  As they noticed I was paying attention, Devon shifted away from Lyle and ended the conversation.

  Marie followed us to the study with bowls of stew for those of us who ate food, and glasses of blood for the vampires who didn’t. Everyone milled around, reviewing Carson’s organizational handiwork of crime material. Once Marie was done, she left, shutting the door behind her.

  “Where are we?” Devon asked. He gave a slight head shake and a quickly flashed his
gaze toward Lyle and Norman, who were eating in the wingbacks by the coffee table. A clear warning.

  I rolled my eyes at him. As if I was stupid enough to mention the ceremony scion stuff in front of them. The vampires guarded the details of how scions were made like Scrooge guarded his bank account. I hated keeping secrets from Lyle, but since telling him would only put him in danger even after the case was done… no, I still didn’t like it.

  I filled everyone in on what we had seen at the crime scene, just not my speculation of the connections to scions. I also told them I’d asked Norman to speak to any ghosts who’d witnessed the homicide, but couldn’t be questioned by the human police. Lyle and Norman picked it up from there after a slight, questioning eyebrow raise from Lyle. He knew I was leaving observations out. I made a hand motion to drop it, and he continued.

  “When Rowan called me to find Norman, that was easy. But Keller was wound tighter than a virgin on prom night. He puffed up big when we came in and said Norman had to get off his crime scene. I told Keller that Norman was our consultant, but he tried to broom us out because he wasn’t actually DEC or police. When I called to his attention all of the disembodied witnesses he was missing and how bad such a prejudicial oversight would appear on an official report, he let us through.”

  Norman nodded and continued. “First off, the neighborhood: lots of activity. The spirits were stirred up pretty bad. Not unusual for a murder area. Death always gets their interest, especially a violent death. Makes lots of them remember. My bodyguards had to work something awful to keep them off me just driving in.”

  “Bodyguards?” Carson questioned.

  “Spiritual bodyguards. Ghosts that work and protect just him.” I answered for Norman while the medium scrutinized empty space around him. “Successful mediums have to develop good relationships with protectors, or the strain of the ghostly paparazzi always trying to get their attention can get to be too much.”