by Jasmine Walt
Ajitah cleared his throat. “We’ll cross-reference them as soon as we get back.”
The crackle in the air subsided, taking my goose bumps with it.
The high witch rose and stepped around her chair. “Please feel free to enjoy the tea. Penelope will show you out once you are done. I look forward to having this matter resolved.” She inclined her head and swept from the room.
I waited until I was sure she was out of earshot. “Well, that was tense.”
“She must be truly rattled for you to have felt that. Grandmother is an expert at containing her residual magic.”
So that’s what the strange energy in the air had been. I drained my cup. As delicious as the tea was, we hadn’t come here to socialize. We had a job to do, and the sooner we got on it, the sooner we could close the damn case.
“Let’s get back to the mansion and compare files.”
Drake nodded and downed his tea. Ajitah had already drained his cup.
Penelope appeared in the doorway as if summoned simply by our intention to leave. “I’ll show you out.”
She led us back the way we’d come, but didn’t leave us at the double doors. Instead, she walked with us to the back of the house where we’d parked. “If you need anything, let me know.” Her eyes were on Drake, earnest and sincere.
He nodded. “Thanks, Pen.”
“I compiled the reports. There is a recurrent element you may find useful. Out of the ten witch bloods who are missing, four of them were last sighted at the Moon and Star. The aberrations, we’re not too sure about as their families haven’t formally been interviewed. You know how the coven hates to associate with the mundane world.”
Drake nodded. “We’ll look into it.”
For a moment, I thought Penelope was going to lean in and peck him on the cheek, but she tucked in her chin and stepped away. The poor girl had it bad, and Drake was either too blind to see it or pretending not to.
We piled into the car.
I caught Drake’s eye in the rearview mirror. “She likes you, you know.”
Drake’s brows shot up. “What? Pen? No.”
“Even I could see that,” Ajitah said.
Drake’s brows came down over troubled eyes, but he didn’t respond. We drove down the driveway and turned onto the road. I was still holding the file, so I flipped it open to take a quick look and froze.
I knew the face looking back at me.
It was the ninja vamp.
7
“It can’t be,” Drake said.
“It is,” Ajitah and I said in unison.
We were back at the mansion, in the kitchen.
“This makes no sense.” Drake began to pace. “That can’t be our vamp. These are all witch bloods.”
“Maybe they got their information wrong?” Ajitah suggested.
Drake snorted. “This is the Mayfair Coven you’re talking about. They don’t make mistakes.”
“Then what?” Ajitah said. “A witch blood turned vamp?”
“That isn’t even possible.” Drake pulled out the photographs. Three were coven witch bloods: Jayda Housten, Gemma Carlisle, and Vanity DeClaire. The other four were aberrations—witch bloods born to human parents. Our vamp was the spitting image of one of the aberrations—a Wallace Edmonton.
I drummed my fingers on the kitchen table, my eyes tracking Drake as he paced back and forth while my brain tried to fit together the pieces that refused to cooperate.
Ajitah leaned across the table to catch Drake’s eye. “Until a couple of months ago, we didn’t believe that witch-yaksha hybrids were a possibility.”
Drake exhaled through his nose. “No, you don’t understand. This is different. A vampire is an entity who is born as . . . well, as a disembodied spirit fully grown and ready for a host. Only two vampire entities can create another of their kind because it isn’t the dead host body that procreates. It’s the actual demon inside.”
“So . . . you can’t have a witch procreate with a vampire and create a hybrid,” Ajitah concluded.
“Exactly.”
In this case, there was only one answer. “The witch blood must have died, and the vampire took him as a host.”
Once again, Drake shook his head. “Not possible. A witch’s magic protects its body from violation, even after death. There is no way a vampire would have been able to worm its way in.”
My heart sank. I was stumped. “What then?” There was no other explanation for what we’d seen unless Ajitah and I had misidentified the vamp. No. I was sure. “The guy in the file is definitely our vamp, which means our cases must be connected.”
“Except . . .” Ajitah said, flicking through the papers. “The witch bloods went missing two weeks before the human women disappeared. I double-checked to make sure, but none of the witch bloods match the women in our missing person’s case. The only linking factor is our vamp, who is supposedly also a witch blood.”
Man, my head was spinning. “So we have a vamp who looks exactly like one of our missing witch bloods and who’s also the last entity to be seen with the missing persons on our other case.” It made no sense, but stressing about it wouldn’t help. Letting the question percolate was our best option. In the meantime . . . “We should interview the families of the aberrations.”
Drake nodded. “Five human families. I’ll give Penelope a call. See if she can get us temporary ID to investigate. We’ll need Grandma to intervene with the IEPEU anyway. Just in case our investigations do overlap.”
Ajitah’s brows shot up. “She really has that much clout?”
“You have no idea.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and headed out the room. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
We had the exemption, but having that extra security to investigate the case without interruptions couldn’t do us any harm. My tummy did its usual grumble, and I headed for the fridge to check for leftovers. I selected a bowl of fried chicken and shut the door to find Ajitah standing right behind it.
“Hey.” I grinned and held out the bowl.
He took a drumstick. “Thanks. So . . . about earlier.”
Earlier? “What happened earlier?”
He lowered his thick, dark lashes, a tendril of his hair slipping across his cheekbone. I reached up and tucked it behind his ear.
Ajitah looked up sharply. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
Shit, the holding-hands thing. How could I have forgotten? “No, I know what you’re talking about. Sorry. Look. I just think we should keep things professional when we’re out on a case.”
“Okay. I can do that.” He dropped his gaze. “For a moment out there, I thought you’d changed your mind.”
This was another side of him I hadn’t seen yet—the insecure potential lover. “One thing you need to know about me is I don’t play games. If I didn’t want to be with you, I’d tell you.”
His pale eyes crinkled. “Also good to know.”
He took a huge bite of the chicken leg, pulled out a seat, and parked his butt before continuing to chow down. We ate in companionable silence, other than the chewing and swallowing sounds.
“Okay, Penelope is talking to Grandmother now,” Drake said, entering the room. “Ooh, chicken.” He grabbed a thigh and joined us at the table. “As soon as Pen calls, we can pick up the ID and get these interviews underway.”
I wiped my hands on a paper towel and pulled the file toward me again. The vamp’s face stared back at me. Not a vamp in this picture, though. In this photo, he was an aberration. “I’ll take this one if you guys don’t mind.”
Drake made an assenting-type noise, but Ajitah sighed in exasperation. “I’m coming with you. The family may not be what we think. This whole thing is too strange.”
Seriously? How many times did we have to go through this? At first, it had been sweet, but surely I’d proven I could handle myself. I forced my jaw to relax. Flying solo was my thing. I’d been taking care of myself for years. He knew that, yet he insisted on making me feel like a damse
l in need of backup. The impulse to snap at him was almost too strong, the sharp retort balancing on my tongue. If he was going to be a part of my life, he needed to get used to the fact that I could hold my own.
I swallowed the words that would cut him and offered him a tight smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“But—”
“I think it’s best if we split up. We can stay on comms and keep connected that way. The sooner we get these interviews out of the way, the quicker we can convene to comb the data for clues.” My tone brooked no argument.
His expression shuttered. “Fine. Just call if you need backup.”
“Always do.”
“And we need to hit the Moon and Star,” Drake reminded us.
Ajitah sat up straighter. “Really, you’re going to take us with you?”
Drake grinned. “Never been, huh?”
“I don’t know anyone who has.”
“You?” Drake asked me.
“Carmella goes sometimes, but she’s never invited me.”
“Yeah, it can get pretty wild.”
I’d heard the tales, of course. Who hadn’t? They didn’t call it the Magic District for nothing. Camden Town was a favorite haunt of the witches who wanted to let loose, mingle with other covens, or just pick up a human to have a little fun with. Most of the clubs, bars, and eateries were exclusive to magic users. To get in, people had to be a witch, witch blood or the guest of a witch.
“You go there often?”
“Nah. Went once or twice back in the day when I was a party boy.”
“Is there a dress code?”
“From memory, the more skin, the better.”
I’d been expecting him to say ball gowns or smart casual, but skin? “Really?”
Drake snorted. “Yeah. The coven witches may come across as high-class divas, but deep down, the desire to strip it all away and get basic runs within them all.”
I tried to visualize the high witch stripping it down and getting basic.
I shuddered.
Drake’s phone buzzed. He checked the text and pushed back his stool. “It’s a go, people.”
Wallace Edmonton was a fancy name for a guy who came from the shitty side of Finchley—with parents who looked and smelled like they only bathed on special occasions. I sat in the grimy living room that reeked of cat piss and mildew, trying to breathe through my mouth while worrying about what the hell I was inhaling. The net curtains were covered in brown patches, and the carpet was so thin I could feel the floorboards underneath.
At times like this, super senses sucked.
I crossed my legs and pulled my jacket tighter around me to hide Vindra—police officers didn’t carry daggers, and I didn’t want to give Mrs. Edmonton too much to remember me by. I’d covered my irises with brown contacts and pulled my hair into a French braid. My overall appearance was plain, unremarkable, and hopefully unmemorable.
“So, you got any news?” Mrs. Edmonton asked. She stubbed out her cigarette in an overflowing ashtray on a table riddled with coffee rings. “Been almost six fucking weeks since he walked outta here and nuffin. You bloody officers don’t give a shite about us humans, do ya? If ‘e were a hairy or one of ‘em fangers, you’d be busting your arse to find ‘im.”
I cleared my throat. “I assure you, Mrs. Edmonton, we are doing our best to locate your son. And if you answer my questions, it would really help to get a picture of the day he disappeared.”
“I did all that for the other bird, red ‘aired snooty cow she was, an all. Parker . . . nosy Parker, if you ask me.”
Melody Parker had been here, which meant she’d made the connection between Wallace and our vamp. Drake had checked with the regular enforcement offices local to our aberrations. Missing person reports had been filed for them all. Wallace must have flagged for Melody when the recent spate of missing persons began. Cameras had caught our vamp, and facial recognition had pulled up Wallace Edmonton. She hadn’t thought to share that with me . . . bitch.
“Oi, you still there?”
Shit. “Yes. Sorry. I saw the report, but I felt it would be helpful for me to hear what you had to say firsthand.” I leaned in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, she didn’t take very good notes.”
Mrs. Edmonton tucked in her chin and pursed her lips. “I told ya, didn’t I, Roy? I said she were looking down ‘er nose at us. Bloody cow.”
He’d been so quiet, sitting in the corner of the room under a hairy feline. I’d almost forgotten Roy was there. Mr. Edmonton raised his head now, his untrimmed brows twitching in agreement.
“So . . .” I flipped my notepad open. “What can you tell me about the day Wallace disappeared?”
She lit another cigarette and took a long drag. “Well, let’s see. He said ‘e had a date. Was excited about it. Got all dolled up with that smelly stuff young lads wear, ya know. Hair all done up and smart like. Then he went out around eight o’clock.”
I waited for her to continue.
She took another drag of her cigarette and caught me staring. “What?”
“That’s it?”
She rolled her eyes. “What the fuck else would it be? I’m ‘is muvver, not his bleedin’ keeper. He said ‘e was going out and ‘e did.”
“Cept Gary came ‘round later, din’t he, luv?” her husband said.
She paused, cigarette hovering by her lips. “Oh, yeah, he did an’ all. I remember now. He were upset Wallace had gone out without ‘im.” She took a drag before leaning in. “I tell ya, I was fucking glad my boy was out on a date with a nice girl. I told ‘im to watch that Gary with his moony eyes and fag tendencies. He had a thing for my Wallace.”
“Janine, please,” Mr. Edmonton said without much heat.
“What? It’s true. Look, I ain’t got anyfink against them homos, but my boy ain’t like that. Gary needed to leave ‘im alone.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, Roy, you don’t fink Gary ‘ad anyfink to do wiv it, do ya?”
Roy sighed.
Well, this visit hadn’t been a total bust. I’d found out Wallace had a close friend who’d been there that night, and I had a hunch he’d be a lot more helpful than Mrs. Edmonton.
“Thank you so much for your time, Mrs. Edmonton. Now, you wouldn’t happen to have an address for this Gary? A phone number, perhaps?”
Forty minutes later, I was sitting in a dingy pub across from a wiry, nervous-looking guy with a mop of dark hair and eyes that were slightly too close together.
It was pretty dead this time of day, just a couple of old geezers sitting at the bar and a loner by the window nursing a pint of Guinness and reading a book. The air smelled of citrus, beer, and sweat, as if the scents had seeped into the fabric of the place.
“Gary, thanks for meeting me.”
“Do you have news? Is he okay?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. The investigation is still ongoing.”
His bottom lip trembled, and his eyes filled up. He swiped at them with his sleeve. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I just have this horrible feeling he’s . . . that he’s not coming back.”
Yeah, you and me both, mate. “Listen, it would really help if you could tell me what happened leading up to the night he disappeared. Was he acting strangely? Had his habits changed?”
Gary nodded earnestly. “Oh God, yes. He was so not himself. I tried to speak to his mum about it, but she got real mad and called me . . . Well, she doesn’t like that I’m gay.” He sighed. “She doesn’t know that Wallace is, too. We were in love. At least, I thought we were. Then about a week before he disappeared, he missed one of our dates. He turned up late that night but left again when he got a call. I phoned him the next day, but it went to voicemail. I was worried. It wasn’t like Wallace to treat me like that. He’s a sweet guy, really thoughtful, so I went to meet him outside of work. He’s a floor manager at our local supermarket. Anyway, that’s when I saw him with this other guy. Tall bloke, dark, brooding type. They walked off together. I called him ten minutes later, and he said he w
as working late. He did come around later that evening, though, and I confronted him about it. Wallace told me the guy was an old friend and they’d met up for a drink. He hadn’t told me because he knew I’d be jealous. I love him, you know, so I let it slide, and then he disappeared.”
I shifted in my seat, the material of my jacket squeaking against the cheap fabric of the faux-leather seats. “You went over to his house that night?”
“Yeah, we were supposed to meet for a drink. He didn’t show, so I went over, and his mum said he’d gone on a date.” He dropped his head into his hands. “I was so angry. I thought some horrific things, and then . . . then he just never came back.”
I reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. This is not your fault.”
“First, I thought he’d just run away with this other guy, but now . . . now I think it’s something worse, that he may be . . . dead.”
Crap, I hated I couldn’t give him any information. Everything we knew for sure was so confusing it would probably just send him off the deep end. Instead, I patted his arm again and said, “I promise you I’m going to do my best to find out what happened to Wallace.”
He nodded, wiping at his eyes again. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
I left him nursing his pint and made my way to the nearest aerial tramway. I had a bunch of intel, and I needed to sit down with the guys and try to make sense of it all. My gut told me Wallace, one of the first to go missing, was the crucial part of the puzzle.
Now to find out how all the other pieces fit together.
8
We lounged in the sitting room, comparing interview notes. Aria had set us up with drinks and snacks. The triplets were outside playing in their tree house. Eamon was out on a case, so we had the place pretty much to ourselves.
Ajitah and Drake had covered two interviews each, while my one had turned into two, due to my stop-off to see Gary. The aberrations we’d interviewed all had two things in common: They were between the age of eighteen and twenty-one, and either lived alone or with families who didn’t seem to have a clue there was anything different about their offspring.
