Tess folded her arms over her chest. “I’m a werewolf, so I can’t cast well, and I had something like this installed at my place, too. These have to be magically recharged by my security company every seven years. Or so the warranty says. I assume cursed objects have similar properties as bespelled ones, so how is he powering the thing?”
If it was a cursed object this Normal had, then the answer seemed obvious to Jack. “The killings. How dark they are. That’s what charges it, gives power to the curse. It’s sucking the magic out of the Magickal victims.” He searched his memory. “The longest he’d gone between killings is seven years. The first gap from New Orleans to the next city. Every other gap has grown shorter.”
Grunting, Peyton glanced at the destruction around them. “He loses the object, he loses his power over magic-wielders.”
“Let’s see if we can talk to Darren. He might have seen something.” Rising to his feet, Jack brushed his hands off on his pants. “I’d like him to confirm this for us, so we’re not just taking shots in the dark like we have been for weeks.”
They were getting closer. The pieces were beginning to click into place. It was the most hopeful news Jack had had in a long time. Then he blinked at Tess. “There’s no dead body. What are you doing here?”
She lifted her chin. “I was with Peyton, and when we got the call that there’d been another one, we assumed I’d be needed.” Her shoulder dipped in a shrug. “I’ve just been helping collect evidence. One of the guys will give me a lift in to the lab. You go talk to your stepdad. Tell him he needs to get better and take over the pack before I kick the Alpha’s ass myself.”
Coughing into his fist, Peyton tried to cover a laugh.
“Nice.” Jack grinned. “Darren will love that.”
The ride back to the hospital was creepy, fog lacing its way through the streets, making the night appear ghostly. Peyton drove, since Jack didn’t have his car with him. Not having his car dragged his thoughts back to Selina. Jesus, what was he going to do about her? Uncovering a new clue had distracted him for a while, but this was like a slow-leaking wound he wasn’t sure would ever heal. She was planning to die. A shaft of agony pierced him. She’d given up on life, and he’d bet it was right around when her cousin was killed. It was obvious she’d blamed herself, had systematically isolated herself from being emotionally involved with anyone ever since, severing the ties that gave people reasons to live. Jack could see it so clearly because in the same situation, he might have done the same. If he hadn’t had his family when Heather had died, if he’d been as alone as Selina, he might have taken the steps she had to avoid that kind of pain ever again. Hell, he had to some extent. With women. Selina had done it with everyone.
Neither of them had planned it, but they were emotionally involved. It wouldn’t hurt this bad to think of her dying if she meant nothing to him. Instead it felt like the fires of hell were roasting him alive—he couldn’t even think, couldn’t breathe when it came to contemplating losing her. Not when he’d just found her. He couldn’t give this up. He would never again find a woman who fit him this perfectly. He would do whatever it took to save her.
“We’re here.” Peyton nudged his shoulder, and Jack jolted back to awareness.
They climbed out of the vehicle and walked into Harborview, heading for the Magickal ward. The trip seemed less endless than it had earlier, when all he could think about was getting to his stepfather. The guards were still at the door when they reached Darren’s room, but Luca had disappeared.
“Jack?” His mother half-rose from her seat beside Darren’s bed.
He pulled her in and hugged her tight. “Hey, Mom.”
“Angela.” Peyton nodded to her when Jack stepped back. “How are you holding up?”
Her lips trembled and she shook her head. “Not good.”
Tears welled in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. Jack put an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder. “He’s going to be okay, Mom. You know he’s a tough SOB. He’ll pull through this just fine.”
She nodded fiercely, swiping at the tears. “I know it. I know he’ll be fine. I already told him when he woke up that under no circumstances is he allowed to die on me. He always makes sure I get what I want.”
That made Jack chuckle, though a band of emotion tightened around his chest. His mother had already lost a husband, just as he’d already lost a father. It was too much to ask them to do it again. “Yeah, he does. You’re spoiled rotten.”
She sniffed. “Every woman should be.”
“We need to ask Darren a few questions.” Peyton stepped forward to look the big wolf over. “Do you think he’s up to it?”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Darren rasped, his eyes opening. They were bloodshot, but he appeared far more lucid than he had earlier. Some of the bruises had already begun to fade and his skin had more color. That more than anything made Jack sigh with relief.
Jack slid into the seat his mother had abandoned and took Darren’s hand. “We’re going to try to keep this to yes or no questions, so you can nod or shake your head instead of talk.”
One of his stepfather’s eyebrows arched, and his lips curved in the ghost of a smile, but he nodded.
Peyton came up and set his hand on the bed railing. “When you were attacked, did he have something in his hand?” He pointed to the dark mark on Darren’s collarbone. “Something he pressed to your skin there?”
A nod.
“Did you see what it was?”
He shook his head.
“It was blurry, right? Like something you couldn’t focus on?”
Another nod.
“But it was dark, wasn’t it? Black magic.” Peyton leaned forward, his voice lowering as he cast a glance back at Angela. She was going to overhear whether any of them wanted her to or not. She was a werewolf. “It felt evil and when it touched you, all the magic was ripped from you, and you felt like you’d been stripped and violated.”
Darren’s eyes squeezed closed and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His chin dipped down in a single, sharp nod.
“Fuck.” Jack tightened his grip on his stepfather’s hand. “A cursed object.”
“Yeah.” Peyton’s gaze met Jack’s. “That’s how the book described how it feels.”
Darren looked at them, a question in his gaze. “The elves destroyed them.”
His voice was thin and reedy, but it was there.
Nodding, Jack sighed. “We’ll have to contact the Elven Assembly to see if they have some kind of expert to test our theory, but apparently they missed one. And this Normal has it.”
Feeling weary and battered, Selina drove through the foggy night, heading back to Jack’s place to get Grim. She was fairly certain Jack wouldn’t want to have to deal with her for that handover, since he couldn’t even look at her right now. He saw suicidal Heather when he looked at her now, not someone who’d run out of luck and time, who’d had more than her fair share of years, and who needed to save innocent people from a killer, no matter what the personal cost. On the one hand, she understood his side of things, how his past colored how he saw her. It hurt, but she understood. On the other hand, she was pissed. He was just going to send her away without listening to her side? He couldn’t even look at her now? Fuck that. Fuck him.
It might not be rational, but she fed the anger because if she dwelled on the pain, she’d be in a fetal position, rocking and crying in her lonely bed for the rest of the day. Week. Month. She sucked in a deep breath and told herself to get on with it. Her responsibilities hadn’t changed just because Jack was done with her.
She had a killer to catch, and that was exactly what she was going to do.
Pulling to a stop at a red light, she flipped on her blinker to go right to Jack’s house. Then she flicked it off again and went straight when the light turned green. Her precognition vibrated to life, telling her that Grim had walked himself home instead of remaining at Jack’s.
A sigh of relief slipped out
of her. Gods bless her familiar. She really hadn’t wanted to deal with getting into Jack’s house, looking at the rumpled bed where they’d made love all day the day before, where he’d held her while she cried out her heartbreak at losing Bess, allowing the grief to escape for the first time.
She stuffed that memory away, so sweet and so bitter, and focused on the task before her. Her bag was on the floor behind her seat, and she needed to make a call. Instead of reaching behind her and maybe swerving her car all over the road like some idiot, she twitched her fingers and summoned her phone to her hand. She narrowed her eyes at it, and it flipped open and scrolled through the numbers until it came to Mildred Standish. “Dial.”
It did, and within two rings, she had an answer. The tart voice of the imperious head of the Standish family piped through the speakerphone. “Hello?”
Selina dropped the phone on the middle console, and kept her gaze glued to the road. “Hi, Millie. It’s Selina Grayson.”
A soft sigh came through the line. “I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you soon.”
“I need to get in touch with Gregor.” Silence answered that and Selina arched her eyebrows. “He’s made it clear that there’s no—how did he put it?—wet work involved in this job, and I’m assuming that whatever you have him doing is entirely aboveboard and legitimate. The city of Seattle thanks you for giving him honest work.”
“You’re laying it on quite thick, Detective Grayson. How droll.” Millie’s tone was both dry and resigned.
“Why, thank you. It’s nice to have people notice when you put in a little effort.” She couldn’t help a grin. She was fairly certain she was older than Millie, but the woman’s speech patterns hadn’t left the Victorian era.
“Very well. Gregor is making some inquiries for me,” Millie muttered, “at the Vampire Conclave.”
Spying on the other Magickal leaders, was she? Now that was ballsy. Selina chuckled. “I hope you’ve gotten the answers you wanted, because I’m not sure how long my interrogation is going to take.”
“That will be very inconvenient for me.”
“He has information about the man who murdered my cousin.” If there was anything a Standish understood, it was family loyalty, so Selina played her trump card. The last thing she needed was the powerful witch interfering.
There was a long pause, then a small sigh. “He should be at the Conclave headquarters now, doing some surveillance on who is coming and who is going. Until dawn at least—he is a vampire, after all. Good luck catching him. I am afraid that is beyond my control.”
“I appreciate your help. Enjoy the rest of your night.” She hung up and checked the clock on the dashboard. Not quite four in the morning. There were still a couple of hours until dawn. Good. She floated her phone up to eye level. “Call Delta Dubois.”
She really should get one of those fancy phones that would auto-dial by voice command so she didn’t have to use her magic, but she’d just never gotten around to it. Too late now, right?
“This better be a booty call from a hot man, or I’m hangin’ up on you.” Delta’s accent was even thicker than normal and groggy with sleep.
Selina chuckled. “Don’t you bloodsuckers stay up all night and sleep during the day?”
“Grayson.” Delta groaned, and the line rustled as she moved around. “What can I do for you?”
“I need to bring Gregor in for questioning again. Care to help me catch him?”
There was a long pause. “Peyton and Laramie and you seemed to do just fine last time.”
“Jack’s father was attacked a few hours ago. He’s alive but in rough shape.” She sent another prayer up to any deity who’d listen that the big wolf pulled through.
“He survived? Well, thank goodness for small miracles.” A whoosh of relief crackled through the phone.
“Your profile’s going to need a tweak.” She braked for a stop sign. “He says our guy is a Normal, not a vamp.”
“A Normal? Then how in hell is he managing to—”
“I don’t know,” Selina interrupted. “But I’d like to ask him that myself.”
Delta sighed. “How’s Jack holdin’ up?”
“About as well as anyone could expect. He’s not going to be available to give me a hand with Gregor, and Peyton’s dealing with the crime scene. So I called you.” Partial truths, at best, but she needed help. She wasn’t dumb enough to go after the vamp alone. Someone with vampiric speed and who freaked Gregor out would be a good choice. “Our favorite mercenary is spying on his own over at the Conclave headquarters. A good street to meet—”
“I’ll find you. I know your smell. You so owe me for this.” The line went dead.
Selina pushed the END button on the phone and turned onto her street. She parked in the driveway, not bothering with the garage. She wasn’t staying. Crawling out, she jogged toward the front door.
Grim launched himself out of the bushes beside the porch, barking madly. He spun in a circle, snapping at shadows and drifts of fog. She stumbled back, her arms pinwheeling before she fell on her ass. Hard. All the air whooshed from her lungs, and her back bowed as her tailbone made impact with the ground. She wrapped an arm around her ribs and wheezed while Grim continued to spaz out, snarling at nothing.
She narrowed her eyes, widening her senses to see if she could pick up on any Magickal beings around. Some people could cast invisibility spells. Her pistol was in the car, so she revved up her magic, felt it sluice through her in a warm rush, ready to be directed. She cupped her palm and shined a beam of light over the house and yard as if it were a flashlight. Nothing.
A creeping sense of dread filled her as Grim ran in circles around her, barked and howled, whimpered and cowered. She shook her head. There was nothing there. She couldn’t sense anything. Not with her physical senses, not with her magic. She cut off the light spell and reached for her familiar’s collar to tug him toward her vehicle. “Come on, Grim. I need to go talk to someone. I was going to have you hunt with me, but I think you can just guard the car.”
She urged Grim into the passenger’s seat and closed the door behind him. She did one last scan of the area and checked the shield spells on her property. Nothing out of place. Still, a shiver ran over her skin and a headache bloomed between her eyes as Grim barked. She strode around the car and climbed in the driver’s side. She had a date with Gregor. It was unlikely he stayed in one place very long once a job was done. She’d been hoping Grim could help her and Delta, but she doubted it now. Ah, well, they’d figure it out.
The Vampire Conclave wasn’t far from Millie Standish’s place, in one of the posh old mansions in Upper Queen Anne, so Selina wove through the deserted streets to get there, hoping Gregor was still doing surveillance when she arrived.
The drive seemed to settle Grim, and he relaxed in his seat, calming down. She reached over and scratched him under the chin. “How you doing over there?”
He gave a small woof and turned in the seat, pressing his nose to the passenger window and smearing the glass. Wonderful. She sighed and took the hint to roll it down for him. He hung his head out, tongue lolling in the breeze.
Parking a few blocks from the Conclave’s headquarters, she reached into the back for her bag. She’d stuffed her badge and gun in there before she’d run out of Jack’s house with him earlier. She checked the clip to make sure it was full—she doubted she’d need to shoot Gregor, but she would if she had to. One bullet wouldn’t kill a vampire, but it might slow him down enough to capture him. She’d do what was necessary.
“All right, Grim. I’ll leave the window down for you. Stay in the car.”
He gave a little growl and pawed at the door handle.
“What, you want to come with me now?” She strapped her spare pistol to her ankle. “A few minutes ago, you were freaking out over shadows.”
A small whine was his reply, and he scratched the door again.
She sighed, leaning forward to tuck her cuffs in the holder at the small of h
er back. “You’re not going to stay in the car if I leave you here, are you? Even if I roll up the window and lock the door.”
He barked, and she took that for an affirmation.
“All right, but if you spaz out on me again, you’re in trouble.”
Covering his nose with his paw, he made a shamed rumble.
Punching the button to slide up his window, she opened her door and Grim hopped over the seats to follow her out.
“We’re hunting a vampire named Gregor. He’s very dangerous. Even more dangerous than most vamps. He’s spying on the Conclave for the witches. I need him in one piece to answer questions. No ripping out anyone’s throat.” She gave Grim a very pointed look. “No craziness. Got it?”
The dog issued an offended snort as if his antics twenty minutes before hadn’t happened and he’d never had a nutty moment in his life. She rolled her eyes. Familiars.
“Nice night for a stroll, isn’t it?” Delta appeared out of the mist. She held a heavy Beretta in one hand.
“Yep. All this fog is refreshing.” Selina throttled down on her magic, stuffing it deep down inside her. The less she emanated, the less likely she was to be noticed. With any luck, the Conclave vampires would take her for a Normal.
She glanced around, but Grim had disappeared. “Grim?”
A growl sounded at her knee, and she felt him lean into her, but she couldn’t see him. Invisibility wasn’t her strong suit, so she didn’t even try. She stroked her familiar’s invisible body and nodded to Delta.
“Let’s go hunting.”
She heard his nails click against the cement as he took off at a run, leaving her behind. Hopefully, he’d give them an advantage. Delta motioned that she was going to break right on the next block, and Selina nodded. She continued trotting down the street at a swift clip, holding her pistol against her thigh.
It was still a couple of blocks from the Conclave when she spotted a bright shock of red hair sticking out from the bottom of a black beanie cap. The distinct ginger shade gleamed under a streetlight. He had his car door halfway open, and he froze when he saw her. She brought her weapon up and leveled it on him. Battle fever sharpened her senses, and she stopped bothering to hide her magic. Her awareness expanded, heat humming through her muscles. “Going somewhere so early, Gregor? I didn’t know you lived around here.”
Night Games Page 25
