Her heart skipped a beat. Oh my God, had he ever read hers?
“I have excellent hearing.”
Her heart raced. “So you didn’t read their minds?” When they had met at the diner a few weeks ago, she had had some pretty inappropriate thoughts. If he’d read those, she’d stake him herself.
“Where is the fun in that?” He mimicked Gillipsie’s posture though his hands were restrained. “How may I be of service, gentlemen?”
“We’ve heard rumors of the Nosferatu clan, but had only caught fleeting glimpses of your people. I’m honored to finally speak to one of you.”
“Flattery is unbecoming of a warrior.” Pallas watched the agent with dead eyes. It was unnerving.
Gillipsie’s fake smile faded a little. “How many of you are there?”
“I am the last survivor.”
“That’s a lie. We know Daedalus resides in the Chicago area and has ties to the Vanguard wolf pack.” The agent set his stake on the table top. “Let’s try this again. How many Nosferatu exist?”
Pallas stared ahead, ignoring everyone in the room.
Gillipsie exchanged looks with Thomas, neither of them moving.
Leona rocked back on her heels, trying not to break the awkward silence.
The vampire blinked. “Are you expecting me to answer?”
“What does this have to do with the murder?” She set her fist on the table between both man and vampire, drawing their attention. “I asked you here to assist me in finding out the truth. Not run your own personal inquisition.”
Pallas rolled his shoulders as if they were cramping. The heavy muscles under his T-shirt bulging. Only then did she realize he was wearing just a T-shirt and jeans in January like it was a summer’s day. No coat, mitts, or hat. This was upstate New York. The edge of the Arctic Circle. She really had to stop thinking and treating him as if he were human.
“These questions have everything to do with our investigation and more, Sheriff Lee. More than you have clearance for, so if you could excuse us.”
Agent Thomas cupped her elbow and tried to lead her out of her own interrogation room.
She yanked free. “I don’t think so. This is still my county and my station. I allowed you to question my suspect that I brought in.” She pointed to the exit of the station. “Out.”
Thomas loomed over her. “This is a Homeland case now.” He pulled out his cell phone. “My supervisor is just a call away, but you know you’re wasting time.” His gaze narrowed as he leaned forward. “Why are you so concerned about him? He’s a mass murderer.”
Over the agent’s shoulder, she glimpsed Pallas drop his head. That pit in her stomach? Yeah, it was a black hole now. “What do you mean mass murder?” What had she stumbled upon?
Gillipsie pulled out a note book similar to hers and read. “Pallas Cenric Aldwin Rudel Wolfe. Last known residence was Prussia, where he led a vast army during the vampire wars around three hundred years ago. Then last year he traveled to the United States on a student visa.”
“I have a permanent resident status now.” Pallas still wouldn’t look at her.
If he was really dangerous, why would Homeland Security send only two agents to apprehend him or were they just two idiots?
Or was she the idiot?
She massaged the bridge of her nose, trying to ease the growing headache. “And?”
“The Nosferatu clan is a secret society among vampires. We know very little about them except every vampire we ask is terrified of them.” Gillipsie tucked his note book back in his shirt pocket.
“Last I checked, being a Nosferatu vampire wasn’t against the law.” Secret society or not. If they brought up the Knights Templar or the Holy Grail, she was going to section three-thirty the agents for psychiatric evaluation.
Pallas raised his chin to give her an I-told-you-so roll of his eyes.
“They’ve been around for centuries, Leona.” Gillipsie uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, excitement flushing his cheeks. “Maybe eons. They have been in the shadows of our history with living memory of those times. Do you have any clue how powerful and dangerous some of them are? We’re talking mind control.”
“I don’t recall giving you permission to use my first name, Agent Gillipsie. Nor do I recall giving it to you.” Which meant they had done their research prior to their arrival. It wouldn’t be so alarming if they hadn’t arrived so flipping quickly. How long had they been monitoring her small town? “I actually don’t care about secret societies. I care about the one that exists around me right now. This town and its safety.”
He jerked as if she had slapped him. “Of course.” He smoothed his shirt and straightened his tie. “Pallas Cenric Aldwin Rudel Wolfe, you’re under arrest for the murder of Bob Sanders. You have…” Gillipsie read Pallas his rights.
The vampire glared at her the whole time. Was he reading her mind? At this point, it didn’t matter. She had nothing to hide. Not even her shock at how quickly Homeland jumped on arresting him. The evidence was damning, but nothing was concrete. They hadn’t even looked at the examiner’s report.
“Do you understand your rights?” she asked him once the agents were done.
Pallas rose to his feet, causing both agents to grab their stakes. “I didn’t kill Bob Sanders. I think this is where I ask for my phone call.”
“Sheriff Lee is no longer involved in this case.” Thomas guided her toward the door.
She twisted around before being shoved out of the room. “I’ll make sure you get that call.”
The Homeland agents had secured Pallas’ ankles to his wrist with cuffs and chains made of a silver alloy. This would concern him if he was a regular vampire. The silver still made him itch, which was surprising after all these centuries. Nosferatu weren’t bothered by the touch of the precious metal, not like regular vampires or shifters. He wasn’t like any other Nosferatu, so he got a rash.
For hours upon boring hours, they questioned him about his clan, their history, whereabouts, numbers. He didn’t know the answers. It wasn’t like they Facebooked. When they crossed paths, it took everything they had not to kill each other. The relationship he had with Daedalus was unusual. But even then, they barely tolerated each other.
Him, because he needed a guide to this new age. Daedalus, because his pretty little vampire wife liked Pallas. Seriously, who wouldn’t?
For his amusement, he gave the agents false information, weaving tales of treasures, secret vaults and spies in the government. By the time he was done, Gillipsie seemed on the verge of having an orgasm.
Around four in the morning, he toyed with the idea of killing them and escaping the station. He had promised Sheriff Lee to follow her lead through the human process of their justice system, but it seemed she’d lost control of his fate. Not to mention, the rash was making him cranky. But if he went on a killing spree, his brother would drop his sponsorship, he would lose his little pack of wolves, and Sheriff Lee would shoot him on sight.
No doubt about it that woman had balls. She hadn’t batted an eyelash when putting Gillipsie in his place. Pallas had no doubt she had allowed the agent to push her out of the room. There was little she could do for him inside here, but he tired of waiting.
For interrogators, they weren’t very good at their job. Where was the torture? They hadn’t even clipped his nails, let alone pry one off his finger or toes. He missed the old days.
“That’s enough for tonight, Gillipsie.” Agent Thomas spoke from behind Pallas where he had spent most of the night quiet as a nightmare, listening to Pallas’ lies. “We’ll take this up again at headquarters tomorrow night. It’s almost dawn.”
Headquarters? That meant leaving Alberg and his lands. Not happening.
Gillipsie opened the door to the room and gestured for one of the deputies. “Do you have a vampire proof cell?”
“Does Alberg look like a place big enough to need one?” Deputy Joe responded.
Pallas hid his disappointment. The concept of a
vampire-proof anything piqued his curiosity at the challenge.
“We’ll keep him in the chains then.” Thomas gripped Pallas’ upper arm, dragging him from the chair where he had grown roots. “There needs to be a guard on his door at all times.”
“Sure.” Joe and Wesley followed Pallas as another deputy led him to the basement where they passed an empty holding cell. Alberg wasn’t a hotbed of crime. They locked him up in the cell at the end of the hall.
“What about my phone call?” he asked, eyeing the narrow bed with a thin mattress. He had grown soft now that he owned a lovely memory foam bed. If he’d gone to “sleep” on this bed all those centuries ago, instead of a stone slab, he might have been too comfortable and not have agreed to hunt Daedalus down.
“You will get your call from headquarters. Not before.” Thomas left with Gillipsie on his heels.
A rectangular narrow window with bars let Pallas view the sky. The cold iron bars of the door pressed against his back. Dark night had passed and predawn was upon them.
“I need a room without a view.” Pallas faced Deputy Joe. “I tend to get sunburned.”
“I bet.” He crossed his arms. “Bob had two baby girls with his wife. They’d been married for seven years.” He cleared his throat and Pallas could sense his rage. It boiled like an inferno in Joe’s blood. “I had to sit her down and explain he wouldn’t be ever coming home again.”
Pallas rested his forehead against the bar. “I didn’t kill him.” He didn’t understand why it mattered what the deputy thought of him. He knew his innocence, but he had been trying real hard to fit into the small town ever since he moved here. Hell, he’d gone to bagged blood so he wouldn’t hunt his neighbors. It did matter that they knew he was innocent.
Joe shook his head. “I don’t believe you and I hope you burn slow.” He closed and locked the door that led to the stairwell, leaving Pallas alone to the mercy of the sun.
Chapter Four
Even though the door to her office was closed, Leona could see out the glass casing. Across the small bullpen was the interrogation room where Homeland questioned Pallas.
That room was empty now and she was waiting for the agents to clear the building. At the moment, they chatted with Murray, who should’ve gone home hours ago. All of her deputies should be tucked in their beds, but murder was a rare occurrence in their neck of the woods. Her crew didn’t want to leave. She couldn’t blame them, but tomorrow would be long for those with no sleep, like herself.
She stretched, kicking her feet off her desk, and for once, wishing she’d placed a couch in her office.
Homeland had questioned the vampire late into the night—she glanced outside at the predawn sky—or early morning, depending on your point of view. She didn’t like the turn of events and how the agents seemed to have lost perspective.
This was a murder case yet they hadn’t examined any of the evidence or the body. What kind of investigators were they? Homeland seemed more interested in securing information from Pallas’ past than his present.
She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about him, but not at the cost of ignoring Bob’s death. In the dark, she waited and watched for her opportunity to speak to Pallas alone.
He claimed he was innocent. Her gut believed him. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty? She needed more info and to find the evidence to prove that innocence. He’d been right when he claimed their laws protected only humans. Without irrefutable proof that he hadn’t killed Bob, there was no way he’d walk away from this scot-free. Homeland’s behavior wasn’t what she’d been expecting.
She sighed and rubbed her temples, fighting her growing headache. Coffee… She needed more coffee. Leona reached for the ancient percolator next to her desk and found the pot empty. Nice. She drank enough of the stuff that she probably had pure coffee in her veins.
Agent Thomas and Gillipsie paused by her locked door and she froze like a kid staying up past her bedtime.
“The sheriff left an hour ago,” called Murray from his desk. “She’ll be in early if you want to wait.”
Murray was a good deputy. No delusions of grandeur. He just wanted to keep the town, where he’d raised his family, safe so others could do the same.
“Let’s go,” Gillipsie whispered loud enough that she could hear him through the thin walls.
She counted to thirty after they moved away before rising to her feet. About time, too. Her ass was growing numb. She twisted and cracked her lower back. That was better.
Exiting her office, she came face-to-face with Murray. He held a file under her nose. “I got to tell you something.”
She glanced at the halo of sunlight turning the night sky a deep blue. “It’s got to wait. I need to talk to the vampire before the sun rises and he goes comatose.” She pushed past him and hurried to the basement. The keys were kept with the guard on duty.
Joe sat at the desk, fast asleep.
She ground her teeth. That wasn’t like him. He was one of those guys who had a mission in life to get the bad guy. He should be working in a city instead of a quiet place like Alberg. “Joe!” She shook him.
His head lolled back but no response.
She checked for a pulse. It was strong and steady. She couldn’t say the same for her own. It was like Joe was unconscious but she didn’t see any visible injuries.
“Shit.” She searched his pockets and found the keys.
Murray leaned around her. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know. Call an ambulance while I check on the vampire.” Mind control my ass. This had Pallas’ name written all over it.
“Yes, boss.” Murray hurried back upstairs.
The cells were divided into general population, female, and isolation for violent criminals. She passed the empty gen-pop cell to the isolation room where they would house a paranormal being. The walls were made of a thick concrete, no windows, and a steel reinforced door.
The lock clicked as Leona twisted the key and pulled the door open. She stood there, on the threshold and blinked. Empty?
She glanced over her shoulder. Where the hell would Joe put Pallas if not here?
Her eyes went wide as realization dawned on her. Sunlight spilled out of the women’s cell area at the other end of the hall.
She growled obscenities under her breath as she ran the short distance. Time seemed to slow and her legs felt made of lead. What would she find inside that cell? A burnt husk of an ancient vampire who liked to drink coffee at the local diner so the townspeople could get used to the way he looked? The vampire who watched over the pack of young werewolves and kept them out of trouble like a sadistic mother hen?
A sob hiccupped in her throat as she paused outside the cell. She’d watched him heal in minutes after a car crash that would have killed a human. There was no healing from the amount of sunlight flooding the room.
The sunrise shone directly through the window just over the horizon. She shielded her gaze and searched the room. She must be losing her mind. How could it be empty, too? Her vision adjusted and she noticed the window no longer had bars.
Unlocking the cell, she listened to the distant sound of the ambulance approaching. She crossed the room and ran her fingers over the rough edge of the hole.
He’d not only broken the barred window—Pallas had smashed the foundation so he could squeeze through.
The tight knot of fear loosened in her chest and she could breathe again.
“Sheriff?”
She spun around. “Joe? You all right?” She supported his elbow to steady his stance.
He rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I think so. Where’s the vampire?”
“Escaped.” She pointed with her thumb over her shoulder. “Joe, how did he end up in the cell with a window close to sunrise instead of in the isolation room?”
He couldn’t meet her glare.
“I see.” The law concerning killing vampires was still undecided in Congress. Was it murder when they technically did
n’t have a heartbeat? She couldn’t book Joe on criminal intent. “Go home, Joe. I can’t look at you today.” She shoved past him and met Murray with the EMTs on the stairs.
“Sheriff, I still need to show you something,” Murray whispered as he pulled her against the wall to make room for the EMTs to reach Joe.
“Not now. We’ve got bigger fish to fry. Pallas escaped.” She waited until the stairs were clear before finishing her climb. Inside the small bullpen were two fresh deputies coming on shift. “We’ve got an escaped convict. Call in reinforcements and notify Agent Gillipsie from Homeland Security.”
She pulled on her jacket. No matter what her personal feelings were for Pallas, she couldn’t ignore that her only suspect was no longer in her custody and that Homeland Security would blame her office.
She had to find the vampire before someone else did. Convince him to turn himself in again. Running from the law only made him appear guiltier.
Shit. She punched the wall in her office. If he hadn’t run, he would be a pile of ash. Fucking Joe. Pallas hadn’t a choice in the matter, but no one would care.
A timid knock on her office door cleared her head. She brushed off the drywall dust from her knuckles and checked her bun for loose hair.
Murray cracked the door open. “Sheriff, I insist you look at this before you go on this man…vampire-hunt.” He set the file on her desk and opened it.
Pictures of the bite mark on Bob’s neck in the autopsy report laid in front of her. “What am I looking for?”
He pointed at the puncture marks. “Something is off with these marks. I compared them with other files on record and the coloring isn’t right.”
She gave him the side eye. “We have vampire bites on record?”
“National databank.” He pulled out printed photos. “See, these have bruising.”
She looked closer. “And Bob doesn’t. What is this supposed to mean?”
“The bite was done after the body was drained of blood. I—I think Pallas didn’t kill him.”
Pallas: Vampire Romance (Vanguard Elite Book 5) Page 3
