by Dannika Dark
Alcohol acts as a time machine. I knew all about how it lifted a person out of the present and into the past. And right now, Viktor was on a one-way trip to another century.
“Do you miss your home?” I asked.
“You never miss a where. You only miss a when. If I returned, it would not be the same. Home is not a place—it’s the people you love and the time that you inhabit.”
My glass clinked against his. “I’ll drink to that.”
Viktor became nostalgic when he drank aged wine. Mostly, we were subjected to humorous stories of his past—many of which might have been tall tales—but after a few more glasses, his mood would shift to a sullen one. Usually by then, he’d revert to his native tongue, and the rest of us would retire to our rooms.
Christian ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “Is there a reason you summoned us here?”
Viktor swept back his silver hair and grumbled. “I received a call shortly after dinner, and I spoke with my contact for a long time to assure him that you were not involved.”
“In what?” I asked. “The murder? What the hell gave them that crazy idea? They’re the ones who called us to check out the body.”
“Not that one. The woman.”
My breath caught.
Christian leaned forward. “You mean to say that Elaine Sanders is dead?”
“I didn’t do it,” I cut in, fearing our tumble down the stairs might implicate me. Not to mention the blood on her clothes from when I’d wrestled her to the ground. “Her arm broke during a fall, but that was the only damage done. We told you everything, Viktor. I swear it.”
“I believe you. But you must appreciate how it appears. The Regulators arrived to find her deceased, and you were the last people who saw her alive.”
“Suicide?” Christian offered. “Her murdered lover had banjaxed her career. The poor woman was an incapacitated, blubbering mess.”
“Let’s not exaggerate,” I said. “But Christian has a point. Her marriage was probably over—maybe her career. I can see how sending in Regulators would spark rumors. You can’t trust those guys with secrets. Maybe we shouldn’t have left her alone.”
Viktor held his glass. “Unless she cut off her own head, suicide is unlikely.”
I stared at my sweatpants, wondering where it all went wrong. “We told her to lock the door. How long did it take the Regulators to get there after we left?”
Viktor swayed his head from side to side, and his mouth turned down as he struggled to remember. “I’d say… maybe twenty minutes?”
“For feck’s sake.” Christian rubbed his face. “The killer was watching us the whole time.”
I put my elbows on the table and cupped one hand over the other. “So Elaine was their target to begin with. They probably saw her go up and realized she had company.”
“Why would you assume they weren’t both targets?” Viktor asked.
“Because Walter was a nobody. Elaine’s an official for the higher authority and had her reputation to protect. Walter probably got there early, put the strawberries and wine in the fridge, set the flowers on the table, and then answered a knock at the door.”
“And the window?” Christian asked.
“Maybe he opened it when setting out the flowers. Chitahs have a strong sense of smell, so he probably aired out the apartment because of the roses. Claude’s always mentioning how odors bother him after a long period of time.”
“Aye. That might explain why poor Walter didn’t flee or fight. Either his sense of smell was also defective, or the roses masked the intentions of his murderer.”
“Do you think the killer was hiding in the apartment while we were there?”
“No. I would have heard him.” Christian drank his wine and then set his empty glass on the end of the table. “Does her husband have an alibi?”
Viktor rubbed his cheek. “Da. My contact discreetly confirmed that he’s been at work all day, oblivious to the fate of his woman.”
“The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced it wasn’t the husband,” I said. “Would Walter have really opened the door for her husband? Someone would have thrown a punch and knocked shit over.”
Christian steered his gaze over to me in a deliberate way. “Maybe Walter wanted to play hero and tell Mr. Sanders once and for all how it’s going to be. Do you realize that the majority of victims know their killers? You have to rule out family and friends before you can conduct an investigation.”
“Even if Walter had opened the door by mistake, there would have been a struggle the moment he caught sight of the sword. Chitahs have the advantage over a Mage, remember? Walter could have taken him out with a single bite.”
“Perhaps he was afraid of nibbling on a member of the higher authority.”
“He could have claimed self-defense.”
Candlelight sparkled in Christian’s eyes, and he gave me a fiendish grin. Sometimes he gave me that look when we had quarrels.
Viktor cleared his throat. “My contact documents the private residences of his colleagues. The victim did nothing to conceal her name on the lease, and property purchased by officials is reported to specific channels. This is not common knowledge, but it helps their investigator track criminal activities. They assumed she was the one reported deceased, so we were called to confirm her identity and search for clues.”
“I still don’t understand why it’s not a job for the Regulators or even Mageri Enforcers. Why have a third party involved before anyone else conducts their investigation? We basically contaminated the crime scene.”
Viktor lowered his voice. “They believe someone is targeting the higher authority, but they are keeping it quiet. She is the fifth victim on the panel.”
My pulse jumped. “How many members are there?”
“I do not know the exact number as there are more members than the seats filled at their trials. They rotate.”
“Why not warn them?”
“It would instigate panic. Not just among officials but also everyone in the city. Just imagine.”
“Jaysus,” Christian breathed.
Though I knew the seriousness of the crime, I wasn’t certain I comprehended the full impact. “But the Regulators can protect them. They’d be on high alert.”
“It’s bigger than that,” Christian said. “Some of the panel members might flee, and factions living within the city would see that as a sign the law is crumbling. The higher authority is the only thing keeping order in the major cities. The murders expose their vulnerabilities and could incite an uprising. Sometimes, all people need is a push.”
I gulped down my wine. “I think my head is about to explode.”
Viktor tugged at the collar of his pullover. “Because this is not our case, we must keep quiet about the assassinations.”
I shook my head. “It won’t stay a secret for long. Elaine was bonded to another official.”
“The Regulators will talk,” Christian added.
Viktor filled his glass. “Not if they’re using the same men to investigate each crime.”
Christian leaned back. “I wager they have a trusted team for just such occasions. How considerate.”
“The higher authority plans for every occasion, including their own demise.” Viktor’s expression grew dim, and he drank more wine. After a few moments, he began singing a Russian song—something old and melancholy.
Kira appeared in the doorway, as quiet as a ghost. Her long nightgown swished above her bare feet as she crossed the room and helped Viktor to stand. I didn’t interact with Kira beyond passing her in the hall and nodding. She made no effort to communicate with us and preferred keeping her distance. But despite her quiet demeanor and invisibility, she looked after Viktor whenever he got this way. Blue had always been the one to take the drink from Viktor’s hand when he’d fallen asleep in his chair, but she’d usually cover him with a blanket and let him sleep. Kira would walk him to bed—perhaps something she’d done a million times with her ow
n father.
Once they left, I emptied the bottle into my glass and enjoyed the full-bodied flavor dancing on my taste buds.
Christian brushed his hand against mine. “Have I ever mentioned that I love it when you’re feisty?”
“So that’s what that look was about. Sometimes I can’t tell if you want to kiss me or kill me.”
“Me neither.”
I leaned back. “Why would the killer go to Elaine’s secret-rendezvous apartment instead of her house? Her husband’s also a target, so he could have killed two birds with one stone.”
“Officials have personal bodyguards, men who protect them night and day. You can bet your sweet arse she left behind her guard when she met up with Walter. I don’t know the facts of the other cases, but I’d wager they were all slain when unguarded. The apartment made her vulnerable.”
“We should have stayed.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t turn back time.”
I reached up and touched my chest where my ruby necklace used to be. No, we couldn’t turn back time. But what if we knew what was coming? My mind drifted to something else that had been plaguing my thoughts for the past few weeks. “I can’t stop thinking about Crush. Fletcher’s out there somewhere, and it won’t take long before he goes after him. If he can’t get to me, he’ll go for the one thing I care about.”
“Your da can take care of himself.”
“Yeah, if he knows what’s coming. Maybe I can’t protect him, but the least I can do is warn him.”
“That a Mage is after him? That his daughter is still alive? Which part would you start with first?”
I gazed at the white candle, the wax melting down the sides and piling onto the silver holder. Not much time had passed since Fletcher’s escape. He was probably settling in to a new place and getting his bearings before plotting revenge. Fletcher knew who I worked for, and if that intimidated him, he might go after my father instead. I knew how his mind worked, and that knowledge kept me awake at night.
Christian put his arm around me. He had an uncanny knack for calming my nerves in the most unexpected ways. Sometimes it was a brush of his hand against mine, and other times it was a tender look. But he hadn’t made any moves since our assignment in Canada. My intimate memories of Christian before my abduction were gone, but not the ones that followed. I thought about that night often. Not just his passionate kisses and sexual moves that left me boneless, but other memories resided in my thoughts. Like the tender way he held me in his arms as we watched the fire, how he tucked my hair behind my ear when he thought I’d fallen asleep. As much as he professed to being incapable of love, I’d discovered his secret.
Christian had a tender heart.
But something held me back, kept me from reciprocating the desire to build a foundation together. My stolen memories left a lasting impact on my ability to develop our relationship any further. I didn’t deny him affection, but how was I supposed to get serious with a man after one night of passion? There were too many past conversations, too many shared moments that were now absent, thanks to my maker. What if I had asked Houdini to take away my feelings for Christian? Would I be going against my own wishes by pursuing this?
Without answers, I was left in the dark.
Regardless, I felt good in his arms. Safe. Listening to the steady beat of his heart. His body heat warming me. His strong arms holding me as gently as a dandelion in the wind.
Until he pushed me away.
Shepherd swaggered into the room and gave us a cursory glance before lighting up a cigarette. The black T-shirt and jeans weren’t his usual attire for working out, so I gathered he was seeking companionship. Shepherd and Christian clicked, and it wasn’t unusual to find them having a drink.
Sensing I was about to become a third wheel in the bromance, I stood up and grabbed my towel. “Well, time for me to wander the halls for a few hours and discover a new room. Sleep tight. Don’t let the Vampires bite.”
As I passed by Shepherd, I looked over my shoulder at Christian. Yeah, this situation created all kinds of complications. He couldn’t even respond since Shepherd might pick up on a rogue emotion. Instead of giving me a smile or a wink, Christian patted the table, inviting his friend to sit and talk.
Shepherd waited patiently for Raven to leave before strolling over to Viktor’s alcohol cabinet. “How does whiskey sound?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Christian said.
Shepherd held the cigarette between his lips as he returned to the table with glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other. After filling each one halfway, he took a seat. His eyes skated over to the dining table and the candles burning in the chandelier. Kira usually put them out in case wax dripped onto the table, but sometimes, she forgot.
“Something on your mind?” Christian asked.
Shepherd reached for the square ashtray by the wall and flicked his ashes. “I’m thinking about leaving Keystone.”
“We’ve all had those days, you morose bastard.” Christian sipped his whiskey. He always told it like it was. “But we don’t exactly have anything waiting for us on the outside.”
“I’m dead serious.”
Shepherd thought back to a few weeks before when he’d gone out walking in the snow. Blue found him sitting on top of a frozen pond, in a stupor. She brought him back inside by the fire and said, “Don’t let your love for her be the thing that destroys you.”
Maggie had once been the center of his universe. He still remembered her infectious laugh and the way she’d make fish lips in a futile attempt to kiss her own pregnant belly. Blue didn’t know that as torturous as it was to lose Maggie, Shepherd had put away that pain the day he buried her killer. It was his baby who haunted his dreams and consumed his thoughts. With each passing day, his boy would grow, and Shepherd would never get to see it. The idea of kidnapping him was starting to nestle in his thoughts like a thorn. It would be the worst possible scenario. They would live as rogues, and Shepherd would have no source of income. Both his scars and the boy’s would make it easy for bounty hunters to track them down. It wouldn’t be long before the boy grew to resent him. The fact that Shepherd would never have shared memories with his own son stole what little contentment he’d found with Keystone.
“Don’t be daft,” Christian said, drink in hand. “Viktor threw us each a lifeline, and that’s what’s keeping us from turning into one of the shitebags we’re hunting. Get langered and get it out of your system, but keep away those thoughts before they fester.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll make my own decisions.” Shepherd knocked back his drink and set the empty glass on the table.
“And have you informed your partner?”
Shepherd ran a hand over his buzz cut and felt a spot on his nape that needed trimming. “All Wyatt needs is that damn vending machine and a computer.”
“I beg to differ. Who’s the one who saved his life that time when those street thugs came at us with guns? And what about the time someone followed Wyatt home from one of his surveillance jobs? The rest of us told him to drive in circles and lose the guy, but you’re the one who ran out of the pub after him.”
Shepherd remembered that night. Wyatt had been in panic mode, so Shepherd jogged what must have been twelve blocks before they met up at an intersection. He jumped in the driver’s seat, took over that little car, and drove like Jason Bourne to lose the fucker who’d been tailing Wyatt after he’d been caught setting up hidden cameras outside a gangster’s meeting spot. Shepherd remembered how shaken Wyatt was by the whole thing, being unarmed, as usual. It wasn’t the first time Shepherd had saved his ass. That was one reason Viktor had paired them up. Wyatt was the brains and Shepherd the brawn.
Shepherd took a long drag from his cigarette. “Viktor can find a replacement. A guy like me ain’t hard to replace.”
Christian stroked his beard, his black eyes trying hard to read Shepherd. “If it were that easy to find replacements, don
’t you think we’d have a bigger team? It takes the man a long time to find whatever it is he’s looking for—a person he can trust who’ll be loyal to the organization. You should thank the heavenly angels he took you in.”
“You’ve never thought of leaving? I mean for real.”
“Aye, but I came to my senses.” Christian swirled his drink. “We’ve all got a million reasons to leave, but maybe all we really need is one to stay.”
Shepherd was a man of routine and order, and lately, those two things had parted ways. The stable ground he’d once walked on was shaking again, and if he wasn’t careful, he might slip through one of the cracks.
“If you leave, there won’t be any coming back,” Christian reminded him. “Take a vacation for a fortnight. Viktor has no qualms with any of us taking a break to get our head together. But if you commit to leaving Keystone, you won’t get a second chance.”
Shepherd refilled their glasses. The slow burn of whiskey steadied his nerves.
“Maybe you should talk to someone about what troubles you,” Christian suggested. “Get it off your chest. If you don’t think Wyatt’ll take you seriously, I’m always here. Just don’t think you can cry on my shoulder and hug it out. I’ll not be your gal. It’s probably not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be.”
Shepherd cut him a sharp glare. “It’s a big fucking deal. I just don’t know if talking about it will dig my own grave.”
Christian’s eyes slanted away as if he understood. He lifted his glass in a toast. “Sláinte.”
“Cheers.”
They each took a drink. Alcohol gave Shepherd permission to forget his problems. It blurred his thoughts between past and present. It made sleeping at night a hell of a lot easier.
“I can’t make your decisions for you,” Christian finally said, resting his arms on the table. “But ask yourself if leaving will fix your problem. Will it truly? Because if the answer is no, you’ll be in the exact same position with nothing to give you purpose in life. What’ll stop you from crossing the line? Each one of us is a weapon of some sort, and Viktor knows how dangerous we are in the wrong hands.”
