BloodlustBundle

by Margaret Carter, Crystal Green, Erica Orloff, Patricia Rosemor

  “What are you doing here, Jake? How do you even know where I live?”

  “I followed you. Unless you were trained to spot a tail—and you’re not, are you?—you wouldn’t have seen me.”

  Which was why he’d beat me to my door, right? I narrowed my gaze on him and thought maybe I ought to get my hand on my weapon.

  Mouth dry, I asked, “Okay, how did you know which apartment is mine?”

  “The number on your mailbox.”

  Right. My mailbox said S. Caldwell.

  Jake said, “Hung Chung is no one to mess with.”

  He’d followed me out of concern? “I wasn’t messing with him.”

  I hadn’t been. I’d seriously meant to discourage Chung from his aberrant behavior. But how had Jake known what had gone down between us? Remembering his knowing look earlier, I wondered if he could possibly have heard the altercation or if he’d put two and two together and come up with four simply by seeing a disheveled Raven, then me, then a furious Chung come into the bar.

  “You’ve made a dangerous enemy,” Jake said.

  “I can take care of myself.” I moved toward my door and him.

  “How badly did he hurt you? You cover pretty well, but you’re limping.”

  Hearing what sounded like real concern in his voice, I asked, “What’s it to you?”

  “I wouldn’t like to see anything happen to you.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Can you? Some people are so damn trusting they don’t recognize evil when they face it.”

  I started. He’d basically turned my own statement about fear back on me. But I was one of the least trusting people on earth. “What evil?”

  “It’s all around you. And if you’re not careful, it will eat you alive…whoever you are.”

  Whoever…

  He was challenging me on more than one level. My identity. My ability to see what was right in front of me. I felt my blood humming.

  “And you see this evil?”

  “Clearly.”

  “Then tell me about it.”

  Jake didn’t answer, but even in the dim light I could see that his features had gone taut. I had the crazy notion that he wanted to tell me…but wouldn’t. He kept those fathomless eyes glued to me. Did he know something I should know? The identity of a murderer, perhaps? Or was he conning me? One thing was for certain: he had his own agenda.

  Not knowing what to think, not sure I could trust him, I pushed by Jake and inserted my keys in the dead bolt.

  “Hung Chung,” he said. “You should have called for help.”

  I turned to face him. “You?”

  “Don’t underestimate me.”

  “Don’t underestimate me, either.”

  We were in the midst of a glaring match when a warning buzz assaulted me. With my senses sharpened, I immediately knew Silke was agitated. Though I was frustrated at her timing, I didn’t close her out. I concentrated on letting her feel my rising irritation. But once I opened that gate, Silke took full advantage. I felt her grab on with every psychic vibe she could muster, and I suddenly knew she was in my apartment.

  “I think we’d better call it a night,” I said, fearing Silke might open the door and then Jake would see us both.

  Jake’s gaze intensified, and for a moment I felt weird, almost as if he were trying to force his will on me. Strangely enough, for a moment I felt as if he could make me do anything he wanted if he tried hard enough. Then, with a sigh, he disconnected, leaving me irritated and wondering what that had been about.

  “I’ll go,” he agreed, “as long as you promise me to stay put.”

  “Where do you imagine I would go at this time of night?”

  “Don’t go anywhere.” He started down the hall. “I wouldn’t want yours to be the next body found drained of blood.”

  The statement was like a whack to my solar plexus. My heart kicked into overdrive, and it had nothing to do with attraction.

  “What the hell do you know about it?” I demanded.

  He whipped around to face me. “You first.”

  I realized he’d just tricked me into admitting I did know. But it was an even trade, because now I knew that he knew. Where exactly did that get us?

  “I’m not the one who brought it up, Jake.” My mind was whirling with questions about his stake in this. “And I can’t believe you’re being so protective because of a rumor.”

  “Then it’s time for some straight talk,” he said. “Heart of Darkness holds dangerous secrets—”

  I interrupted with a breathless “You’ve seen a body?”

  He hesitated just a second too long before saying, “Near the bar? No.”

  Something about that statement was off. “Then what makes you think the rumors aren’t just that?”

  “I have my sources.”

  Sources? As in an informant? Someone like Junior Diaz? If so, that would make his interest official.

  “So what are you doing about it, Jake?” I asked. “Running your own investigation?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Why?” I wanted to ask whom he worked for, but I thought the situation would be best handled with a little more finesse. “Is this a full-time preoccupation or a hobby?”

  “What is it for you?”

  We would have done well on that game show that makes the contestants come up with a question as answer.

  “Enough. Good night.”

  As much as I wanted to keep after Jake for the truth, I suspected I wouldn’t get a straight answer out of him. I suspected Silke had her ear pressed to the wood panel so she wouldn’t miss a word of our dialogue and worried that if we kept this up long enough, Jake would hear her move around.

  I unlocked the door, then made sure Jake wasn’t close enough to see inside before opening the door. The moment I closed it, Silke slid into view.

  “Shell, what were you thinking taking on Hung Chung? I wasn’t tuning in, but when your adrenaline surges it turns up the frequency. Chung is dangerous!”

  “So is my job.”

  I made my way into the bedroom, planning on getting ready for bed. From the chest of drawers, I pulled a pair of soft cotton pajama bottoms and matching crop top. I turned around and practically ran over Silke. I threw the pjs on the bed and started stripping.

  “You’re not doing this for your job,” Silke said from the doorway. “You’re doing it because of me. I don’t want to be the cause of your getting hurt. You need backup. Other cops. You need to make this official.”

  “Not yet.”

  “When, then?”

  “When I have something tangible to bring to the table. Hopefully, Raven.” I pulled out her number from a pocket. “I’m going to call her right now.”

  But all I got was her voice mail. I left a message, asking her to call me. Rather, I asked her to call Silke, but I left my number.

  Silke looked as disappointed as I felt.

  “At least Raven gave me her real number,” I said. “I can work with that. But until I get her to agree to tell what she saw, what am I supposed to say—that there’s been another dead girl who then disappeared but again I have no proof?”

  I see dead people….

  Maybe this time the psych evaluation would be done in a rubber room.

  Silke didn’t say anything until I was climbing into my pajamas. “Hey, those are some bruises.”

  I glanced down at the back of my thigh and knew this was just the start of the pretty discolored pattern that would settle there. Icing it would help keep down the swelling and bruising, so I headed for the kitchen with Silke following.

  Silke was right behind me. “Shell, I want you to stop.”

  “No, you don’t,” I countered, grabbing a plastic bag and opening the freezer door.

  “I do. You can’t keep doing this alone. It’s my fault, and I’m admitting it. Take this to Mom, let her know what’s going on. She’ll know what to do.”

  “Mom? Not hardly. You just want
me to be safe. Believe me, Silke, I’m on my guard.”

  “That’s not good enough, Shell. I didn’t know you would go this far. I just wanted you to be the one to make the report on Thora, because I thought it might help you clear your name. I didn’t want you to put yourself in danger. Either you talk to Mom or—”

  “What?” I interrupted. “You’re going to tell on me? Like you said to me, we’re not kids anymore.”

  Silke didn’t continue the argument. Instead, she settled into a quiet mode I didn’t like. I filled the bag with ice and secured it.

  “Look, Silke, I’ve got to get some sleep. I have a training class to teach first thing in the morning. Don’t go, though. I’d rather you bunked in here for the night.”

  I didn’t want my twin running around taking chances any more than she did me. At least I was experienced in protecting myself. On the streets, anyway.

  But when it came to men…

  I couldn’t believe I was attracted to a man with an agenda. Was Jake DeAtley on some kind of citizen-vigilante quest? Was he a media type looking for a story? Or was he official, another cop?

  Now I would have to figure out how to take advantage of the connection with Jake. Whatever he knew, I wanted it. The problem was, how would I get him to give it to me?

  The creature of the night could sense the thump-thump of her heartbeat as she moved along the street. She wasn’t really necessary—no reason to hunt for several days, at least—but she was easy pickings.

  Besides, she smelled so good—not just her blood, but her heightened emotions as she threw a glance behind her as if she thought someone might be following.

  You’re looking in the wrong direction.

  But then, they usually did.

  The fear radiating from her was an aphrodisiac, tempting and promising an ecstasy that proved as potent as a drug.

  She scooted along, her short hair ruffling around her face like little wings. Too bad she didn’t have any. Then maybe she could fly away.

  Thump-thump…thump-thump…thump-thump…

  The sound of her racing heart was too tempting to ignore.

  Her instincts warned her, but there was nothing she could do to protect herself. So she ran.

  That’s it. Faster, faster.

  The blood lust surged with the chase.

  Too quickly the chase was over…and the little bird screeched for the last time.

  Chapter 8

  “Commander Aniceto asked me to give this to you,” one of the rookies in my second class of the morning said.

  “Thanks.”

  I checked my watch. Three minutes to class. Enough time to read the note that wasn’t from my commander but from my mother.

  Detective Shelley Caldwell:

  Report to me at the district office after your last class of the day.

  District Commander Rena Caldwell

  Considering the way she was pulling me in—an order—my antennae went up. What was going on? I stuffed the missive in my shorts pocket and tried not to worry.

  Something was up.

  I wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation after what I’d dealt with the day before. At least I’d had the sense to sleep with an ice pack all night—that and some ibuprofen had done wonders for my physical well-being. My nerves were on edge, though. I’d tried Raven’s number a couple more times. She hadn’t answered.

  Not good.

  I got through the class without thinking about why Mom wanted to see me, but by the time I got to the lunchroom, my brain was circling.

  “Hey, baby, late night?”

  “Really late,” I said, sitting across from Al.

  I was fully aware that I looked as if I’d been through the mill. I’d awakened too late for a decent breakfast, so I’d picked up a coffee and croissant on the way in to work. The smell of the gloppy, stewy stuff on my plate wafted to my nose, and my stomach growled in appreciation.

  “You look like hell. Can’t be because of a man. When you gonna find you a real one?”

  Swallowing a mouthful of stew, I got a brief flash of Jake. “I already found one. You.”

  “Yeah, but Rosalee would kill me if I so much as looked at another woman.”

  “See—all the good ones are taken.”

  Joking with Al put me in a better mood, and I began to wolf down my lunch. We ate in companionable silence for a moment before I said, “My mother sent me an order to appear in her office when I leave the academy this afternoon. Why couldn’t she just call me like a daughter and say she wanted to talk?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “Because she likes to give orders.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Hey, you’re not saying it’s my fault?”

  “It takes two to tango…and two to fight.”

  Rather than answering, I practically inhaled the rest of my lunch. But for the rest of the afternoon, I couldn’t help thinking about the intimation that I might be partly responsible for the uneasy relations between Mom and me.

  Fearing that might be true, I decided I would do my best to assuage whatever gripe she had this time. I would be the model daughter.

  That vow didn’t last very long.

  The moment I stepped into her office—a cold regulation CPD space warmed by a few personal touches like an area rug and a couple of framed prints on the walls—she gave me a look that could freeze a runner in her tracks. I pushed through the negative and gave her what passed for a smile.

  “Reporting as ordered.”

  No answering smile softened her expression. “Please sit, Shelley.”

  Shelley. She called me by name rather than by title, so this was a mother-daughter thing, after all. I sat and wisely kept my mouth shut. Let her take the initiative.

  But when she leaned forward, elbows on her neatly organized desk, and asked, “Are you out of your mind?” all that tension I’d released earlier came flooding back. “I always gave you credit for being smarter than most of the population.”

  I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t say anything.

  Mom went on. “But what you’re doing…I just don’t understand it. What were you thinking, putting yourself at risk?”

  My mouth dropped open. She couldn’t possibly know.

  But I realized she could know, did know, when she said, “It’s against CPD policy to act alone without calling for backup.”

  “Silke told you?”

  “Don’t sound so horrified. I’m the one who has a right to be horrified. Pretending to be Silke, going undercover to seek out a potential murderer—”

  “Do you know about the connection to LaTonya Sanford, too?” When Mom didn’t even blink, I shook my head. “Silke’s been a regular Chatty Cathy.”

  “Your sister is worried about you, Shelley. She says she’s sorry she involved you. She wanted you to make an official report or at least to come to me yourself, but apparently you wouldn’t listen to her.”

  I didn’t care that Silke had tried to stop me and then to warn me. I hadn’t believed she would actually go behind my back to let Mom know what I was up to.

  “I didn’t have anything to come to you with. Not anything you would believe any more than you did the last time.”

  “I did believe you, Shelley. I just couldn’t do anything to change what happened.”

  “They said I was crazy! You didn’t stand up for me.” And, currently, that was the crux of the problem between us.

  “How would that have looked? I respect procedure. And in the end, the system worked the way it should. You were okayed for duty.”

  “No thanks to you. And I didn’t get reinstated as a detective. The powers that be don’t trust me on the streets with a black mark on my record. It’s nice that you respect procedure. I only wish you would respect me.”

  “Of course I respect you.”

  “I asked you directly about cult activity at lunch.” This wasn’t me the daughter talking, but me the cop. “You told me nothing, and there’s no department regulation saying yo
u can’t discuss a crime being investigated with another officer. That was your choice. I figured whatever information you were getting from Commander Aniceto was related to what happened to Silke’s friend Thora. Maybe he saw this kind of thing on his watch when he was heading up that gang unit. Will you please tell me now?”

  Mom sighed and her shoulders lost their sharpness as she sagged back against her chair. “No, it wasn’t exactly the same,” she said, switching from Mom to cop. “I went to him the other day because we have a homeless man a couple of quarts low stashed in the morgue.”

  I blinked at her, trying to take in the implication. “How much blood loss?”

  “Enough to do the job.”

  “And you still have the body?”

  “We have two, actually,” Mom said, watching me closely, as if for my reaction. “Late last night three jocks partying a couple of blocks from Heart of Darkness were on the way to their car when they found a young woman unconscious. Unfortunately, she died before the paramedics got there. They couldn’t revive her because of the severe blood loss. One of the young men said he thought he saw her attacker slinking away in the shadows. He took chase, but unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough to get a good look at the person.”

  “What does the victim look like?”

  “Early twenties, short spiked dark hair, Goth makeup and clothing, three earrings in her eyebrow, tattoo of a black bird on her upper arm.”

  The description took away my breath, and I choked out, “Raven!”

  “You know her?”

  “She’s the one who told Silke about Thora’s body.”

  I had saved Raven from sexual assault only to have her fall to a much worse fate. My stomach knotted and my chest felt hollow, and though cops weren’t supposed to cry, I wanted to. This victim wasn’t some unknown person to me. I should have broken cover and had Chung arrested. Then Raven would have been questioned, maybe escorted home in a patrol car. She wouldn’t have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And if Chung was the murderer, he would have been locked up.

  “Can you tell me more about this Raven?”

  Stunned, I shook my head. “I didn’t even know her real name.” I hadn’t asked her. “Raven was her Goth name. Maybe Silke…”