“I always assumed you were desperate and you bought something on the black market,” said Felicity. “I never asked, because I thought it was probably too painful for you to talk about.”
“I would never do that,” I said. “You can’t have honestly believed—”
“I guess not,” said Felicity. “It bugged me.”
“So, how’d you get the talisman?” said Connor.
“When dragons die, we shift into our dragon form for the very end. And then there’s a ceremony by which all the parts of our bodies are carefully preserved and put in the family vault for our offspring to use in the coming years.”
“You loot your own corpses?” Felicity looked shocked.
“It’s not like that,” I said. “It’s something we give freely to help out those that come after us.” Although I realized that I wasn’t sure who I was going to leave my body to.
Felicity made a face.
“I don’t think it sounds any worse than organ donation,” said Connor. “I think it’s kind of cool. So, your talisman is made from pieces of your family, then? That’s awesome. It’s like they’re looking after you from the afterlife.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s comforting.”
He smiled.
Felicity wrinkled up her nose. “I guess if you look at it that way…”
“Anyway,” I said, “tomorrow night, we’re going to sneak into my family’s vault and get what we need to make all of us powerful enough to stop the vampires.”
“Cool,” said Connor. “So, the next time they show up, I’ll be ready.”
I shook my head. “No, we’re taking the fight to them. After we’re through with them, they’ll never come back. They’ll never bother us again.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I, um, brought you some coffee,” I said to Flint, setting the cardboard cup down on his desk. “But I didn’t know how you liked it, so I brought… stuff.” I pulled a handful of sugars, three plain creamers, three French Vanilla creamers, three Irish Creme creamers, and three Hazelnut creamers out of my purse and dumped them on his desk.
He sat back in his chair. “Thank you.” He picked up the coffee and took a drink of it black.
“So, this was unnecessary?” I said, pointing to the sugar and creamers.
“It was very nice of you,” he said.
I reached for them. “I’ll get these out of your way.”
“No, leave them,” he said. “I might get in the mood for sugar.” He opened a desk drawer and swept them all inside. The desk drawer looked empty.
I pulled it back open, just to be sure. “Don’t you have anything in your desk?”
He shut the drawer. “Why would I? All our files are digital these days. I try to be efficient.”
I guessed that was true.
But his desk was so… bare. Other desks had pictures on them, had little knick knacks. Flint didn’t even have a pen holder.
“I was actually a little worried that I was going to be here so early that you wouldn’t be here,” I said. It was a little after seven in the morning. “I don’t usually get up this early, but I woke up around five, and I couldn’t get back to sleep.”
He sipped the coffee. “Sorry about that.”
“Do you always come in this early?”
“Not that it isn’t good to see you, Ms. Caspian, but is there a reason you’re here?”
I took a drink of my own coffee, which had plenty of sugar and a mix of Hazelnut and French Vanilla creamers in it. “I just… well, the last time I saw you, you had this list of people that you were looking into, because you thought maybe that one of them might be the killer, and I was just wondering where you were with that?”
“Ah,” he said. “Curious about the case?”
“I…” It wasn’t as if I didn’t have enough to think about. What with Alastair coming over and the vampires and fighting with Felicity, I was definitely busy. But I was curious. I thought about the case all the time. “Yeah, I guess so. You said that stuff about me being a sounding board, but then you didn’t call me again.”
“Well, most of what I’ve been doing has been very boring elimination work. Going through names and finding out that they weren’t even in the area during the time of the crimes, that sort of thing. And then there were a few I went to interview, but I eliminated them. None of them were magical creatures, so I figured I wouldn’t take up your time with that.”
“Oh, you could have, though,” I said. “I mean, I’m available most of the time, and if you give me a little notice, I can usually come along.”
“You’re eager to catch the killer.”
“Yeah.”
“Because it might be your ex, and you’d like to see him behind bars.”
“Well, that would be nice,” I said. “I guess that’s part of it.”
“There’s more?” He raised his eyebrows.
“I just want to help,” I said.
“Do you.” It didn’t sound like a question.
I took a drink of my coffee. “I didn’t think you suspected me anymore.”
“Did I say I suspected you?”
I twisted my hands together.
His gaze bored into me, and his eyes seemed particularly penetrative.
I was seized with the desire to unburden myself, to start spilling all my darkest secrets to him. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt that around him. I fidgeted, feeling nervous.
“Ms. Caspian?” he said in a soft, soothing voice.
Suddenly, words were coming out of my mouth. “I, uh, I was pregnant a few times. That happens with dragons a lot. Not carrying to full term. I… lost them, the babies.”
His hand tightened on his coffee cup and the lid came loose. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice, readjusting the lid.
“Yeah.” I was washed away by the memory of it for a minute. The knowledge of having been pregnant, and then the life inside me being gone. My chest felt tight.
“I really am sorry,” he murmured. “You don’t have to—”
“When the doctor told me, all three times, I just remember being sad, of course, but there was also… this rage.” I couldn’t stop talking now. I turned the coffee cup in my hands. “But, of course, there was no one to blame. It just… happened. And I thought if… when the parents of these girls heard the news, they’d probably feel that rage too, but there would be someone to blame. But they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Because they don’t know who did it. So…” Belatedly, tears were filling my eyes, even though the most painful part of the recollection had passed. “I want to know who did it. For the parents. Or maybe for me. I don’t know. I just… I want to find out.”
Flint wouldn’t look at me. He took the lid off his coffee, and then he put it back on.
We were quiet.
Finally, he raised his gaze to mine. His eyes looked shiny. “I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said quietly.
“It was a long time ago,” I said. “And it’s better, maybe, not to have had a child with Alastair.” That was what I tried to tell myself, anyway, although I couldn’t quite believe it. The world could only have been better with my babies in it. And when I found the courage to leave him, because I would have, no matter what, I would have rescued them too.
“Sometimes you have to tell yourself things like that.” His voice wasn’t strong.
I cocked my head. Something had happened to him, hadn’t it? Had he lost someone?
He cleared his throat. “Well, anyway, I’m down to two suspects, and I’ve saved the magical creatures for last, so that you could accompany me to interview them. Well, one of them is human, but he runs a strip club that specializes in drakes and gargoyles.”
I made a face. “Drake strippers?”
He shrugged. “Takes all kinds to make the world go round. The other one is a drake, apparently reformed and off the dragon meat. He runs a halfway house for magical teenagers and young people.”
“And you suspect these guys just b
ecause they fit the profile?”
“Well, the stripper owner may have some kind of fetish for magic. Maybe he has violent sexual fantasies, and he wanted to act them out on the dragon girls. And the drake, I don’t know, he seems like a nice guy, pillar of the community and all that, but a lot of times, these killers, they hide who they truly are. So, the drake works with young people, and all the victims are young women. Maybe that’s how he has access to his victims.”
“Okay,” I said. “That makes sense.”
“It’s a little early for interviews, though,” he said, taking a swig of his coffee. “You had breakfast yet?”
“We should head over to the Pink Flamingo Cafe,” I said. “My friend owns it.”
“Sounds good,” he said.
*
Breakfast was uneventful, but as we were leaving, Felicity came into the restaurant. I introduced her to Flint.
“So,” she said, “you’re the detective I keep hearing so much about.”
“I guess so,” he said. “I, on the other hand, haven’t heard anything about you.”
Felicity turned to me, lips pressed together.
“I don’t talk to him about my personal life,” I said. “We just talk about the suspects and things.”
Flint shook her hand. “Anyway, it’s very nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” she said.
After we left the restaurant and got into Flint’s car, he put on his sunglasses and said, “Why didn’t you tell me your best friend was a drake?”
“It never came up,” I said, feeling defensive. Sure, Felicity was a drake, but she wasn’t like the crazy addicts that were always stealing car stereos to sell and make money for dragon meat.
“You pick up strays, hmm?” he said.
“Strays?”
“Like the gargoyle.”
“They aren’t pets,” I said. “Just because you’re human, doesn’t mean that you can treat those of us who are magical like animals.”
“Whoa.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Poor choice of words on my part. I definitely don’t think of magical creatures that way, I promise.”
I let out a breath. “I’m very protective of her.”
“She’s able to keep her addiction to dragon at bay, I suppose?” he said.
“She eats a lot of other meat,” I said. “And she’s never really had it, except for the first time. The time that changed her. She says it’s easier to resist something she doesn’t remember much about.”
“Well, so it’s possible, then,” said Flint. “For a drake to go straight and narrow. Because if this drake we’re going to see were the killer, maybe he’d be doing it for the meat.”
“But he kills in human form,” I said. “And why would he ditch the bodies? Wouldn’t he keep the dragon for later?” I felt my stomach churn.
“Yeah, probably,” said Flint. “Let’s go see the stripper owner first, then.” He stuck his keys into the ignition.
We were off.
On the ride there, I kept trying to think of something to say to Flint, but I couldn’t think of anything. I felt odd after having exposed my emotions so baldly earlier with my story about my miscarriages. The truth was, I had hardly even been aware of how much the past was motivating me until I found myself saying it out loud. I knew that I was struck deeply by the thoughts of the girl’s parents hearing about the death of their child, but I hadn’t put it together, not really.
It was because I didn’t like to think about the miscarriages.
People say things about loss. They say that you get over it.
It isn’t true.
What you do is find ways to stop thinking about it.
It happened when my parents died too. At first, right after they were gone, every thing in the world reminded me of them. But slowly, over time, I managed to keep myself from thinking of them when I came through the front door or when I went to bed at night. I rewired my brain so that I could function, and I avoided the pain. That was what I had done with the loss of my babies too. I just didn’t think about it. If I didn’t think about it, it couldn’t hurt.
And so, I had “gotten over it.” But not really. Because if I did allow myself to think about it, the pain all came rushing back, just as fresh and as bright as if it had all happened yesterday.
So, suddenly, I felt raw.
And I wasn’t even sure why I’d shared that with Flint. I couldn’t figure him out. He was so closed off, but it seemed like there was more to him. He just wasn’t about to let me see what that was. He was armored and cool, and I didn’t know who he was. Not really.
So, why had I trusted him with one of my most painful secrets?
I knew better than that.
Never show weakness.
Damn it.
At any rate, I couldn’t think of anything to say to him.
He didn’t say anything either.
We drove in silence.
The strip club was located on the outskirts of town, because Sea City was supposed to have a family atmosphere—not that it really did with the roving gangs of vampires and crazy drakes, but that was the ideal, anyway.
It was a squat little building, unremarkable except for the neon sign that said, Exotic Magical Girls!
The sign, however, was not lit up, because it was morning time.
“Is anyone even here?” I said.
“We’ll see,” said Flint. “If he’s not, we’ll go to his home.”
We went around back and Flint knocked on a door marked, Employees Only.
A man opened it right away. He was short and balding with a handlebar mustache. “Who are you? You’re not my beer shipment.”
“Afraid not,” said Flint. He showed his badge. “Are you Killian Henderson?”
“Yeah. So?”
“I’m Detective Lachlan Flint. This is my associate Penny Caspian. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
Killian got a wary look in his eyes. “About what?”
“It’s regarding some murders,” said Lachlan. “The reporters are calling them the Dragon Slasher killings.”
Killian drew back. “What would I know about that?”
“Do you know anything about that?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Can we come in?”
Killian stepped outside. “Can’t we just talk out here?”
“Suit yourself,” said Flint. “You went to help out with the search party for Dahlia Brooks?”
“Yeah,” said Killian. “So?”
“Are you acquainted with Miss Brooks?”
“No, I was just there to be a concerned citizen.”
“You find the plight of a girl like her to be of specific interest to you?”
“Well, a little bit,” said Killian. “I mean, she’s a dragon, and my girls who work here are all magical, you know? They’re drakes and gargoyles, and what if this psycho starts going after them? That would be really bad for them. So, I want to help out.”
“I see,” said Flint. He waited.
As if galvanized by the silence, Killian kept talking. “I think it might be a hate crime, see? You know that group, the Brotherhood? What do they call themselves? Uh… Humans for a Wholesome Tomorrow. HWT. Those guys? They hate dragons. They hate them the worst, ‘cause they started all this magic business. So, it seems to me that they might be doing this. You should really be looking into them. Not me. There’s no reason to look into me.”
“Did we say we were looking into you?” said Flint mildly.
“You are, aren’t you?” Killian’s eye twitched.
“You seem to be a bit defensive about all of this,” Flint noted.
Killian’s nostrils flared. “Defensive? Who wouldn’t be? You walk up here, ambush me in the early morning and start making accusations. But there’s no reason for you to think that I did this. No reason at all.”
“I haven’t made one single accusation,” said Flint.
“You haven’t?”
Both
Flint and I shook our heads.
Killian took a deep breath, let it out, and put his hands into his pockets.
Flint tried a smile. “Do you ever have interactions with the girls in your club? Interactions of a… sexual nature?”
“I’m married. Happily. So no. Anyway, I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“How did you meet your wife?” said Flint.
Killian coughed. “Well, she used to be a dancer here, but what does that matter?”
“Your wife is human?”
“She’s a drake. Are we going somewhere with this? Because if anyone’s saying that I been buying dragon meat on the black market for her, then they are lying, because I would never do something like that.”
“Do you know Othello?”
“He someone I should know?”
“It’s a play,” said Flint. “By William Shakespeare.”
Killian looked as confused by this turn in conversation as I was.
“It’s a play about a black man in the fifteenth century, who goes against society, and at great personal risk to himself marries a white noblewoman. She is ostracized from her family, and she has no one but Othello. But they haven’t been married for very long before someone convinces Othello that she’s being unfaithful to him. And Othello, though it isn’t true, proves remarkably easy to convince. He goes from being devoted to the woman to strangling her to death in a very short span of time.”
We were all quiet.
Killan furrowed his brow. “Uh, okay.”
“The point,” said Flint, “is that there is often a very thin line between love and hate. If you love exotic women, then maybe you also hate them. And that is why you’re a person of interest in this case. Don’t leave town.”
*
“No, I never did meet her,” said Anthony Barnes. He was a drake, but his mutation seemed to be minimal. His face looked human except for his eyes, which had a subtle ring of red around the iris. His hands were covered in red scales, but he didn’t have any claws or spikes. “We have had a few dragons come through our shelter, but not many. They would be welcome, of course, but I think there are less troubled dragon youth than other magical creatures. It’s the same with gargoyles. They have strong family units and we rarely see them here. We serve young people who find themselves transformed into drakes or vampires and young people who have been caught using dragon artifacts and talismans to do magic and subsequently kicked out of their homes. That’s the kind of work we do.”
Fire Song (City of Dragons) Page 9
