“Good luck getting one to answer at this hour,” I say skeptically.
While he calls, I walk around the perimeter of the house. Thick, heavy drapes bar most of the windows, but the kitchen curtains are parted.
There are no appliances on the counter. The pantry is open, revealing a cupboard that would make Old Mother Hubbard feel like she found her soul mate.
Footsteps sound behind me, and I whirl around with my fists raised.
“Whoa, cool your jets, Karate Kid. It’s just me.” Angelo shrugs. “I left messages. Since we don’t have one, technically we should wait.”
“You called. I didn’t,” I say, not ashamed in the least. “Look. No food. Isn’t that curious?”
He glances over my shoulder. “Not curious enough,” he says, his lips curling with disapproval.
“Don’t worry. You won’t get in trouble,” I say disgusted that he’s more concerned about his career than Diego.
“It’s not that.”
Ignoring him, I walk around the back. By a small window close to the ground, the faint stench wafting in the air is stronger. It smells like urine.
“Do you smell that?” I ask eagerly.
Angelo makes a revolting face. “I should’ve known better than to inhale deeply when you say that.”
I almost laugh at that, but I’m too eager to get inside. With a burst of energy, I rush inside the house. The furniture is minimal and old. Hardly any dust. Most people think that dust accumulates when a room sits. Actually, dust is mostly composed of dead human skin, so without people around, dust won’t build up. Even the air feels isolated, stale.
The first few doors are to closets, and I end up in the kitchen. All of the cabinets are bare. There isn’t even a crumb. There isn’t a fridge.
No food for anyone. No blood for a vampire. Nothing for anyone.
Desperate now, I throw open every door on the first floor and finally find the door to the basement. The stench of urine is even stronger now as well as something else that is far more rank. Thankfully, it doesn’t smell like a decaying body, but that’s all the goodness I can say about this stink.
I move to head down the steps when I hesitate. Every room in this place has been unlocked. Why? Is this some kind of a trap?
“What are you waiting for?” Angelo calls out.
Startled, I whirl around to see him peeking through a slight opening in the curtain. The coward’s still outside. Doesn’t want to tarnish his reputation like the reckless cop I’ve become.
Why am I so reckless and gung-ho all of a sudden? Actually, there’s a clear tipping point in my mind. Once I first came across a vamp, I couldn’t stop myself from doing whatever it took to bring them down. Was that really so horrible? Was trying to protect people, which, by the way, is part of a cop’s job description, really that terrible?
“You’re not coming in?” I call out to Angelo, my voice low but echoing in the empty, nearly furniture-less house.
A slight groan sounds from the basement.
“Someone’s here,” I shout, “and he sounds injured. Make yourself useful and call an ambulance.”
Terrified, anxious, worried, I flip the light switch near the door. I rush down the stairs, hoping and also not hoping to find Diego waiting for me.
Chapter 37
My heart pounds in my chest. My ears feel heightened as if I can hear everything and nothing over my frantic breathing. My hand itches to hold my gun, but I don’t reach for it. Somehow, I’m certain I’m not the one in danger here.
The steps are steep and long, like a tunnel, without a means to see out into the basement on either side. Hardly any light floods the basement, despite my turning on the light.
“Hello?” I call cautiously.
The man groans again.
Finally, I reach the bottom. Huddled over in the far corner is a man, sitting on the ground.
A man who isn’t Diego.
I release a frustrated breath before wanting to slap myself for being so ridiculous. This man, whoever he is, needs my help as much as Diego does!
He’s shivering. In another corner is a bucket, the source of the smell. There’s no boxes, no blankets, nothing. Just the man and the bucket.
The man whimpers again. He glances up at me, looks down, and then up again, blinking several times as if shocked by my appearance. That he shies away from me, cowering, breaks my heart.
“It’s all right,” I whisper. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m a cop. Clarissa Tempest.”
The man swallows and winces.
“Are you hurt? Thirsty?” I approach him slowly, not wanting to startle him.
“Hungry,” he moans.
Heavy footsteps pound down the staircase.
The man jerks back as if shot.
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “That’s just my partner.”
Angelo walks over. “We’re sorry we just barged in. We’re detectives. We—”
“Hungry,” he moans again, hugging his stomach.
“Can you go get him something?” I ask Angelo.
“Seriously?” He gapes at me, astonished.
“Yeah. I found him. You didn’t even want to come down here in the first place.”
“But—“
“He’s a victim,” I hiss, getting in Angelo’s face. “He’s not a threat. By the looks of it, he hasn’t had anything to eat in almost a week. He’s wasting away. Go get him some from McDonald’s.”
Angelo nods, nostrils flaring. He clearly resents my demand, but he leaves.
I return my attention to the man. His cheekbones aren’t gaunt, but he does have that haven’t eaten in days look about him. His eyes are especially haunting, all sunken in.
“What’s your name?” I ask him.
“Hungry,” he whispers.
“Angelo went to get you food.” The closer I get to him, the more potent the smell. I do my best to hide my discomfort and disgust. “Can you tell me if you’re hurt?”
He stares at the stairs over my shoulder and rocks in place.
“Do you want to come upstairs?” I offer my hand to help him up.
The man recoils in fear.
“It’s okay,” I assure him. “No one is going to hurt you.”
Sirens sound, near and loud.
I smile. “Help is coming. Would you rather wait for them down here?”
“H…”
There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s been kept a prisoner down here, unlocked doors or not. Frustrated and worried that he’s been psychological damaged, I lower my arm.
“Hank,” he says softly. “Hank Frankfurt.”
I almost clap I’m that happy. “Hank, did you know the doors were unlocked? You could have left at any time.”
He shakes his head and stops abruptly, touching his cheeks as if he has to steady himself.
Hank never tried to escape? Or had he been too frightened to check the doors?
“You were kept here by someone, weren’t you?” I ask.
The man nods.
“By who?” I ask eagerly. “Was it a man who—”
Someone barrels down the stairs. Angelo tosses me a McDonald’s bag. “Cops and the ambulance are here.”
“He can eat first.”
Angelo nods and leaves to deal with the others.
Hank moves to stand but can’t, and I walk over and hand him the bag. His hands shake so badly that I have to open the bag and unwrap his sandwich. He eats like a starving man. It’s painful to watch.
As much as I want to ask him more questions, I reject the idea of interrogating him further. He needs to get up his strength and be examined medically. The time for questions will come soon enough.
My partner must’ve pulled some strings because we’re the ones that head to the hospital following the ambulance. Doctor Dean isn’t the one to examine him, unfortunately. From this doc, we learn that he’s severely dehydrated and suffering from a slight case of malnutrition. Other than a few bruises, he’s not too badly off,
all things considered.
Once the doctor gives us the go ahead, we enter Hank’s room. He’s eating again, just as furious and eagerly as his first meal. That he’s hooked up to IV fluids doesn’t slow him down any.
“Hi, Hank. Do you feel any better?” I ask.
He pauses long enough to glower at me before resuming his quest to fill his belly.
I can take a hint. Amused, I sit in the chair. Angelo opts to stand by the foot of the bed.
When he finishes eating, Hank says, “I want him out.”
“Me? Why?” Angelo protests. “I went and got you food.”
“I heard you two. You didn’t want to come in. So I don’t want you to come in my room. Go.”
Muttering playful, colorful threats under his breath, Angelo exits to the hallway but lingers near the door.
Hank nods, pleased. “You asked about the guy who kidnapped me.”
“Yes,” I say eagerly.
“I don’t remember much about him. He took me off the streets one night. I was drunk,” he confessed guiltily. “I just lost my job, and I took it hard. From an alley, this guy just came up and grabbed me.”
Hm. Alleys seem to be the handiwork of vamps. Then again, Amarok with his golden eyes would need to keep a low profile. A man with that description would stick out too much.
“The next thing I knew, I was in that basement with the bucket and nothing else. The man said that the doors would be unlocked but that if I left, he would kill everyone I ever knew.”
Disgust and revulsion churn my stomach. As much as I want to ask a question, I hesitate, letting him tell it at his own pace.
“He… He listed my family. My extended family. My friends, coworkers, even acquaintances. He knew them all. I knew the door was unlocked, but I couldn’t leave. I just couldn’t.” He shuddered. A tear of pure terror rolls down his cheek.
“Did you catch a glimpse of him?” I ask gently.
“His eyes, the one time.”
I hold my breath in detestable hope.
“Gold,” he says finally. “A terrible, awful gold. So strange and disgusting. So… unnatural.”
Amarok. My jaw clenches so tightly that pain shots up to my ear.
“Can I… Can I call them?” Hank whispers. “My family. To see if…”
“Of course.” I pull out my cell and toss it to him.
He catches it but stares at it with fear. “You want to know what’s worse?”
I shake my head. I’m not sure I want to know what’s coming next.
“I wasn’t the only one to be kidnapped. Others just like me are hidden all over town. He told me, and I believe him.”
Chapter 38
This news does not go over well with the lieutenant.
While I’m happy Hank’s family is alive and well, it’s dismaying to realize that his family never reported him missing. Hank’s confusion as he talks to them is visible from where I stand in the hallway. I wave to catch his attention. He motions me to come in and puts the call on speaker.
In no time, I discover the reason for his despair.
His family never realized he was gone.
Immediately, I’m reminded of Travis and how the vamps did something to his mind. Travis tried to force feed me poisoned stew.
Can Amarok do the same thing?
If others really are kidnapped but no one can realize they’re missing, how are we supposed to find them?
A half hour later, I’m in the lieutenant’s office. We’re debating this point.
Reynolds’s face is redder than an overly ripe tomato. “We can’t get a warrant to check the entire city!”
I haven’t said much. Rex, Angelo, and a few others have, though. Given my demotion, I do not want to incur the lieutenant’s fury any more than I already have.
“Clear out, the lot of you. Do what you can to find any threats or uncover any missing people,” he barks. “Legally!”
Angelo winks at me before leaving. Rex huffs and cuts me off.
“Tempest,” the lieutenant calls.
Busted.
Trying not to be intimidated, I turn back around. “Yes, sir?”
“We’ll do all we can find to Diego and the other missing people. If we can trust that Amarok really did kidnap more. He scowls.
“Did Hank positively ID him?” I ask eagerly.
That would go a long way to making Amarok’s prison long-term. It’ll give us the time we need to find enough evidence to arrest him for a crime. The District Attorney isn’t willing to press charges just yet.
“He’s too afraid to come and take a look. The guy’s been through enough. We can give him a few days with his family first.” The lieutenant eyes me critically.
Here it comes. Another lecture.
I brace myself for the onslaught.
“I’m glad you found him,” he states quietly, surprising me. “Consider this your warning though. If you do one more stunt like this, I will put you on notice. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes. Of course. I understand. I was just too impulsive. I know that.”
“You have a nose for crime. You do. No one can deny that.”
I smirk. Mercedes tries, the tramp.
“But you used to do things legally. Now, you just do what you want. The proper channels must be used or else I will permanently take your badge.”
Without hesitating, my fingers caress my badge. The thought of losing it sobers me right up.
“I’ll stay in line,” I swear.
“You better.” He juts his chin toward the door.
“No sign of Diego yet?” My chest aches.
“No.” The lieutenant rubs his forehead. “Nothing’s going right,” he mumbles.
Head down, I duck out of there. After a few fruitless hours of searching for Diego, Zeke the vamp, and any other signs of missing people, I opt to head home.
On the drive, my thoughts wander. Where is Diego? Given what we learned from Hank, there’s no way Amarok took him. Unless maybe he did and allowed us to realize he’s gone just to mess with us.
The lieutenant has barred me from talking to the spirit of the wolf. I disagree, but I’m not about to go behind his back. I’ll try to convince him in the morning to let me interrogate him.
Fighting through despair and resentment, I park and unlock my back door.
My house is completely ransacked.
My disillusionment threatens to overwhelm me. I almost walk inside to check on things before I remember my vow.
Quickly, I dart back to my car and report the crime. Then I call Angelo and ask him to provide backup. I do not want to wait for others to come before walking through my place.
From my car, I have a clear line of vision at the back and one side of the house. No one leaves out the front, and I don’t see any lights turn on or off. There doesn’t seem to be anyone inside yet.
Angelo arrives five minutes later, and we go inside, guns raised. No one’s here. Every room is trashed. Furniture overturned. Books off the shelves. Food boxes on the floor. Bread smashed. There is nothing worse than squashed bread.
My clothes are all over the floor in my room. I slam the door shut so Angelo doesn’t catch a glimpse of my one sexy lace bra. Talk about awkward.
Officers arrive, and we talk to them, they take their pictures. I’ll check through everything to make sure nothing is missing. I’ll have to see about calling my homeowner’s insurance, but I don’t think it’ll be necessary.
Angelo offers to help clean up once everyone leaves, but I tell him not to worry about it. He nods, cracks a joke, and leaves. I almost feel awful about turning him away. The guy seems so forlorn and lonely.
It’ll take me hours to clean this up. Do I get to work immediately? Hell to the no! Instead, I check out my security footage.
And see precisely nothing. After the whole incident with the vamp intruder, I splurged on new hi-tech security cameras. Seriously, there’s nothing to see. One second, my house is clean. Clean-ish. The next, it’s a ter
rible, ransacked mess.
Like magic.
Like vamps.
Some of the officers went to ask my neighbors if they saw anything. I walk over and butt into the conversation.
“It’s nothing. False alarm.” I laugh as if I’m amused.
Or high. Take your pick. I’ve never done drugs. Never even puffed a cigarette. I just never saw the allure
“A cat broke in,” I add. “Completely trashed the place. Can you believe it? A stray cat. I’ll take it to the shelter now.”
The officers roll their eyes. They realize this means it’s vamp-related.
My neighbors, though, have no idea. They start talking about the strays they’ve seen nearby. The officers manage to leave, and I almost want to grab onto one of their legs, screaming, “Take me with you!”
Yeah, I don’t really get along with my neighbors. It’s not that they aren’t nice people. They are. Kinda. When they want to be.
It’s just that they’re worried about their hair, their clothes, their supposedly perfect lives. They have a book club, but it’s really just an excuse to drink wine and gossip. One time, I got called over. Not because they invited me. Oh, no. One of the ladies was screwing another’s husband, and it was found out. The two got into it. One gave the other a black eye. The other broke the first’s jaw.
Instead of calling the cops and getting someone well-versed in the art of domestic disputes, a neighbor called me. I came out, diffused the situation, and managed to talk them into not pressing charges. Ever since they’ll leave me goodies on my front porch and invite me over. I almost think they don’t really want me to come. Maybe one day, I’ll surprise them and say yes.
When one of them mentions that she has a recently divorced brother who I might like, I cut my losses. Without a word, I just turn around and leave. I don’t have time for this nonsense. The city around them is devastated, crumbling and hurting. Can’t they see that? Or are their heads too far up their asses that they can’t realize how terrifying the world can be?
“Well,” she calls after me, dismayed, “not divorced just yet. Just waiting on the tramp to sign the papers. She’s fighting him tooth and nail. Can you believe it? She cheated on him, but she won’t divorce him. Wants her cake and pie, can you believe it?”
When Wolves Howl: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 2) Page 20
