“Nathan, they’re my daughters.”
“They belong to the Pride and you don’t.” He couldn’t have said it with more sting if he’d tried. He turned on his heel and headed in the direction of the exit without another word or a backward glance.
“Is he always so charming?” Antoinette asked when he was gone.
“This is one of his better days.” Kitt watched him disappear with his men in tow.
“I promised Tones a drink,” Antoinette said. “Why don’t you join us?”
“Thanks for the offer, but I think I need to go see Raven. He was here, at the game.” She had to try to make him see sense; for the moment he was in danger and had to stay hidden.
“Okay, then,” the Aeternus said. “Maybe next time.”
Antoinette pulled up next to a dilapidated warehouse on the docks by the river. She’d left Tones at the bar in the care of a lovely young vegan donor and went off to take care of some important semi-personal business.
She climbed out of the car and scanned the area for her contact, an ex-con by the name of Tripper McKee.
The nearby building stank of rot and decay, and the stench from the river wafted in on the wind. Her brother Nici and Tripper had been pretty tight a few years back, before Tripper had been sent to prison on a five-year stint for reckless endangerment causing death.
She leaned through the open window to grab her cell phone to call him. A low whistle of appreciation came from a nearby warehouse and she looked over her shoulder to see him standing in the doorway. When she approached, she could smell the strong odor of a freshly smoked joint clinging to his clothes.
He flicked his long light brown hair and grinned. “Still a great car.”
“How’s it hanging, Tripper?”
“Not bad, fang-hottie.” His smile widened as his eyes traveled down her body and then back up to her face. “Come on in. I think I’ve got something for you.”
He crossed to the faded green van parked inside and hit the button. Motörhead blared out from the speakers sitting on the ground next to the van. An old large dog lifted his head from a fluffy blue rug and gave her a lazy, halfhearted woof.
“Yeah, yeah, Dog. A bit late to tell me we have visitors.” Tripper ruffled the old dog’s head as he went past. Antoinette followed him onto a large square of the moth-eaten Persian carpet. A faded fat, stuffed leather chair sat to one side under a giant open pink-and-green beach umbrella.
Dog sniffed her shoes and her trousers and gave a little growl at the scent of Cerberus. She squatted down and scratched behind his big ears. He lifted and dropped his tail three times, as close as he could get to actually wagging it these days.
“Hello, old boy,” she said.
“I think he’s going deaf, maybe blind too.” Tripper looked at the old animal and his expression filled with fond sadness. He looked away. “Stupid dog.”
“Can I get you anything—a smoke, a drink, a vein?” He turned his head to the side to offer his neck.
She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.
“Okay, just trying to be hospitable,” he said with a wink and pulled a joint from his pocket.
The pungent smoke filled the air and he placed his hand on the back of the leather chair.
“I ran into J.J.” She turned to gauge his reaction.
Tripper exhaled sharply and screwed up his nose. “What is that son of a bitch up to these days?”
“Hunting down innocent people and sucking them dry.”
Tripper’s eyebrows raised, the only sign of his surprise. “You’d better step into my office.”
He crawled into the back of the van and sat down on one of the two office chairs inside, she took the other. A corkboard attached to the wall above the computer station had newspaper clippings and notes pinned to it with little colored tacks—however, Antoinette’s gaze was drawn to the snapshot of three young men laughing with their arms around one another. She’d taken that photo of Tripper, his brother Cleb and her brother Nici. She remembered the day well; it’d been just before Tripper’s world fell apart.
He saw her looking at the picture and turned back to the computer screen. “I keep it as a reminder never to take anything for granted.”
Antoinette looked at her brother’s laughing boyish face. At least she could still talk to him, even if he was miles away in London. Tripper didn’t have that luxury. Cleb was dead. Killed in a hunt gone wrong, and Tripper charged with negligence for his death.
“Do you ever wonder what if?” he asked, still not looking at her.
“I try not to,” she said. “It only ends up making things worse.” She knew that from experience.
“Well, I do. Like what if we’d kept our mouths shut about that damned blood farm; what if I’d trusted my instincts and not taken that job?”
She placed her hand on his shoulder. “You weren’t to blame.”
“No, the Guild was . . .” He looked at her. “And one day they’ll pay.”
“We have to get enough evidence first,” she said.
He grinned, and there was no humor in it. “I’m working on it.”
“Yes, we both are.”
“So, J.J.’s gone bloodsucker, then?” He suddenly looked up in horror. “Sorry, no offense meant.”
“None taken.” How times had changed—not so long ago she’d had the same prejudices. “He’s with some bent Aeternus called Marvella.”
Tripper tapped the keys at the first console. “Would you mind grabbing me a soda?”
She scooted back a couple of feet to grab a soda from the small fridge under the microwave. He had a pretty good setup here really, several computers networked together down one side and a drop-down bunk on along the other.
“Where are you getting the power to run all this?” she asked.
He took a large puff on his joint and pointed at the cable running from the back of the van to the power pole outside.
“Shhh, it’s a secret,” he said in that half-talk, half-sucking way potheads use as a way to keep as much of the aromatic smoke in their lungs for as long as possible.
He blew out a stream of bluish white smoke. “I’ll have a week, two tops before they become suspicious of the power drain and I have to move on so they don’t catch me.” He pulled a yellow folder from beside his computer. “Here, a present.”
There were several emails from a Guild insider with whom Tripper had made contact. It turned out there were a number of people with the same suspicions and stories of secret goings-on. He was beginning to build quite a little network of contacts.
“There is nothing substantial here we can use,” she said. The emails showed large amounts of money being siphoned off to a secret account and little else.
“No, but it shows my contact has access to some highly classified files. We don’t have anything yet, but soon.”
He was right. This did show a potential good source of intelligence.
“Okay, fine—keep digging.”
“Is this her?” He brought up several photographs on the screen.
Shit, the picture.
She pulled out a piece of folded paper from her pocket and opened it. The Aeternus Marvella with long, teased dark hair matched the ones on the screen.
“Yep, that’s her,” she said. “We encountered her a couple of nights ago, but she’s gone to ground with J.J.”
He took another puff on the joint. “Okay—I’ll put out a bulletin.”
“Excellent,” she said. “Let me know as soon as you hear anything, night or day.”
When Kitt got downstairs, she found Oberon in his office reading through reams of research Tones had produced. As she leaned against the doorframe watching him, he looked up.
“Game over already?” he asked. “Did we win?”
“Yes and yes. Where’s Raven?”
“Down in the rec room, I think. Why?”
“He was at the game,” she said. “And so was Nathan. You shouldn’t let him just wander around.”
“I can’t really stop him.” Oberon laid the papers on the table. “He’s not a prisoner.”
“I know,” she said. “It’d be better if he’d just return to where he came from.”
“Better for him?” Oberon asked. “Or better for you?”
“I really don’t know.” She sighed and pushed herself away from the door. “I’d better go find Raven.”
She found him half sitting, half lounging on the sofa with his feet up on the coffee table. He’d removed the jacket but kept the hat on. He was flicking through the channels on the big screen TV and glanced over as she came into the room, dragging his feet to the ground as he sat up.
“Great game,” he said, flicking off the TV.
“Yes, it was. Too bad my brother had to ruin it.”
“Wanna tell me about it?” he asked.
“Not really.” She leaned against the doorframe, almost afraid to take that final step.
Unshed tears burned behind her eyes and made her temples throb. He patted the cushion beside him and held out his hand. She knew the moment she sat down, those tears would come. It had been building for days really. New job, meeting the girls, him; Nathan was the last straw.
And she was right. The moment her ass hit the cushion the dam of tears didn’t just break, it shattered apart with an explosive force. The sobs tore through her body, the unfairness of it all ripping her insides with grief and anger. Once the tears started, she couldn’t get them to stop.
Raven wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. He held her against his warmth, his strong hand soft against her hair. He’d done this long ago, and she felt as safe as she had back then. Curled against him, Kitt clutched his shirt and soaked his chest as she poured out all her hurt.
Chapter 14 - Prime Time
Gideon hid in the shadows, watching long after the fans had left. The team hadn’t come out yet. He dropped his chin to his chest, his eyes feeling heavy. If he waited too much longer, he would run out of time.
“WAKE UP,” Ealund shouted in his ear, jolting him.
Gideon looked at his watch. Dawn would be in a few hours. Where were they?
Laughter burst out of the opening back-door entrance to the stadium. The three people emerged, jostling each other, high on their victory. They looked so young, so healthy, so alive.
A car door opened not far from Gideon and he shrank back further into the shadow of the nearby building. A girl climbed out wearing tiny denim shorts, a tank top, and cowboy boots. She sat on the car hood and tucked a piece of honey blond hair behind her ear. Her large silver hoop earrings glinted under the streetlight.
“Hey, baby,” she called and waved. The boy’s head shot up and he grinned as he waved back.
He leaned in and gave each of the women he was with a kiss on the cheek, lingering a little longer to whisper something in both of their ears. Then he jogged over to the girl on the car and buried his hands in her hair while kissing her deeply.
“FOCUS,” Ealund hissed. “STAY ON TARGET.”
Ealund was right. Desires of the flesh were just a distraction. They were so close, he could almost reach out and touch them.
Ealund floated toward the couple. “CAN YOU TASTE THAT POWER?”
“Hey, baby,” the boy whispered when he came up for air. “Wanna fool around?”
“Sure, what do ya fancy?” She wrapped her legs around his waist. “A quickie in the back of the car. I gotta be home by dawn.”
“I got a surprise for you,” he said. “Come with me.”
He took her hand and pulled her off the hood.
“Where?” she said, laughing.
“You’ll see.” He pulled her toward the back door to the NYAPS arena.
“Hey, we could get in trouble.”
“I paid the tech guy to leave early and turn off the CCTV to give us little privacy.” He grinned as he tugged her closer into an embrace, his hands kneading her ass as he nibbled at her neck. “I want to do you in the ring.”
“Eww, gross.”
“No,” he said, “in the arena.” Then he gave her rear end a sharp slap. “On second thought, the other could be kinda kinky.”
“Don’t even think about it, mister.” She stepped away from him and ran his hands down the front of her scantily clad body. “Not if you ever wanna tap these again.” She cupped her breasts and squeezed.
The boy growled and stepped toward her. She squealed in delight and ran; he was hot on her heels, obviously letting her stay ahead. He caught her around the waist just as she reached the door and yanked it open. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck. They continued to kiss as he carried her through the door.
“THIS IS GOING TO BE QUITE A SHOW.” Ealund chuckled and cupped the bulge at the front of his robe. “AND ISN’T THAT A LUCKY BREAK. THE CAMERA’S ALREADY TAKEN CARE OF.”
Yes, it is. Gideon’s own cock hung flaccid in his pants. There was only one thing that would get it hard.
“What will I do about the girl?” he asked Ealund.
“OF COURSE.”
“But she is an innocent.”
Ealund’s form darkened with what Gideon had come to know as anger. “YOU DISAPPOINT ME.”
Gideon picked up his bag and crossed to the door after he checked that no one was near. With one last look around, he slipped inside after the lovers.
Chapter 15 - Blood
Kitt woke in the dark. The narrow bed wasn’t hers. The smells in the room weren’t hers. Feeling the wall beside the bed, she found a switch, hoping it was for the light.
Bingo.
The soft glow revealed a spartan room with a single cot, a chair, and very little else. It must be one of the unused guest rooms. Her shoes were off, but apart from that, she was still fully dressed. Raven or Oberon must have put her here after she’d cried herself to sleep. She stretched and yawned, feeling better rested than she had in quite a while.
There was a tentative knock at the door.
“Come in,” she answered, sitting up on the bed.
Antoinette entered. “How are you feeling?”
“Really good, actually.”
“Just as well, because you’re going to get very busy tonight,” the Aeternus said, passing her a large mug of steaming coffee. “I thought you could do with this.”
Kitt took a sip and it warmed her right down to her toes. “Thanks.”
“And you probably should take a look at this.” Antoinette handed her the paper she had tucked under her arm.
third student found at the academy of death, screamed the headline.
Kitt glanced up at Antoinette’s worried face and read on out loud.
“ ‘In the early hours of this morning another student was brutally mutilated on NYAPS campus grounds. The current reigning all-state champion, NYAPS student Mark Ambrosia . . .’ ”
Kitt stopped reading. “The boy from last night? He’s dead?” she asked in disbelief.
The Aeternus nodded.
If Antoinette was here, then she must have slept through the entire day. “What time is it?”
“About nine thirty,” Antoinette said. “The paper just came in, but Oberon called us all before sunset to get here as soon as possible.”
Kitt got up and slipped on her shoes. “So what’s happening?”
“Tez has just sent over some pictures; Oberon wants you to take a look.”
“She sent them? What about VCU?” Kitt asked as she pulled on her shoes.
“The CHaPR chairman has pulled rank and given Oberon special dispensation as the former head of personal security and current chief of security at the Academy. They want him brought in on this operation.”
The office was abuzz with everyone answering phones, yelling, or bustling about. Oberon had even brought in Cody and Bianca from the day shift. The ursian was standing and writing on a white board covered with pictures of the victims taped to it. He turned and smiled at her as she came up behind him. No—more than
smiled. Oberon beamed.
“Antoinette’s told you the news? You’re now an official member of the team and we have lots of work to do.”
“Hang on a sec, don’t I get a say?” How dare he assume.
Oberon stopped and turned to her, frowning. “What?”
“I agreed to help you out once, not join the team. I came here to teach.”
It was obvious he hadn’t even contemplated her saying no. “Kitt, please, I need you.”
“I will help you out for now, but as far as joining the team is concerned, I will have to think about it.” And if the last couple of days were anything to go by, then it’s not bloody likely.
Oberon nodded. “Okay; for now, then. Tones is updating the data since this victim is human and not Animalian. We need you to analyze the photos; Tez is waiting at the medical examiner’s office for you to assist on the postmortem.”
“I don’t want to step on Tez’s toes, or put OCPME offside.” Kitt stood before the case board looking over Oberon’s scrawled notes. “You know, Oberon, we have more high-tech equipment you can use for this.”
“I like the old-fashioned method.” He turned and smiled at her. “We’ve been asked to consult on this case because of the special circumstances; Tez is more than happy to work with you again.”
“Okay, when do I have to be there?” she asked.
“That’s why I sent Antoinette to wake you,” he said with some measure of excitement. “We’re meeting VCU at the medical examiner’s office.” He was like a kid who’d won the playground turf war.
“Oberon, a boy is dead,” she said. “Can you be a bit less happy about this?”
The smile slid from his face.
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