by Judy Teel
In my mind, the most alarming aspect was when Agent Miller pointed out that the thin triangle symbol on the wall was probably a representation of a vampire's fang, which meant the star symbol was probably for practitioners.
The fact that Marla had now killed a Were didn't sit well with me. After the blood of three powerful paranormals was spilled, what had she planned? Did it have to do with the ancient god? Had we stopped her in time?
I snapped out of my dark thoughts when Cooper broke away from the group and stalked across the gym in my direction. "Walk with me," he said in a low voice. He turned toward the doors that opened into the hallway, and I fell into step beside him.
"Initial tests show venom in her blood stream," he said as we moved out into the hall, "but not your usual flavor. It's been altered by mixing it with a small amount of vamp blood and infusing a little magic. It's called VR on the street and it's rare, expensive, and dangerous. We may have caught more than just a murderer."
"Is that why you first came to Charlotte?"
He gave me a quick glance as we headed for a small room that opened off the main hall. A colorful, beaded curtain hung from the open doorway to shield the entrance and give privacy. Inside was an old love seat and a small table cluttered with candles, rocks, a few scattered animal bones and a goblet. Blue and turquoise pillows were piled in one corner.
I stayed by the door, sensing a mood in Cooper that I didn't recognize. Tension sat across his shoulders as he walked over to the table and flicked the pile of bones with his forefinger. "With Marla in jail, our part in this case will wrap up in the next few days. I want you—" He took a deep breath. "I'd appreciate it if you'd consider working with me to track down whoever's making and distributing the VR."
He picked up a candle, looked at it and put it back. If this was anyone but Cooper, I'd say he was nervous.
"This is broader than a delusional user out for revenge," he continued. "Laiyla was working on the same problem for the covens when she was in New York and had continued to pursue it here."
"You think the vamp murders are part of it?"
He nodded and turned around. "Will you consider staying with...the department?"
"Can I trust you?" I asked. "You wanted to kill me earlier."
Emotions flared deep in his eyes, feelings I didn't even know how to name. "If I had, you'd be dead."
"If you'd tried, I wouldn't be the only one."
His fiery gaze held steady, and I thought for a moment that he was trying to tell me something. Then his shoulders relaxed and that quirky smile that was uniquely Cooper's tugged at his mouth. "At least we know what we're getting in each other as partners."
"If I accept your offer, I want full transparency. No pulling 'the FBI has secrets' card, no dodging when I want answers."
He hesitated, but then nodded.
"Prove it," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Addison—" he warned.
"Let me in on Marla's interrogation tonight."
His eyes narrowed. "I don't think—"
"Professionally equal or forget it. That's the deal."
"Fine." Pushing past me, he stalked out of the room.
I watched him go, unsettled by the hurt radiating off of him. I frowned, feeling that I'd missed something...some kind of important opportunity that might not come again. Shaking off the unaccountable sensation of loss, I told myself I should feel triumphant.
The convenient way we'd caught Marla had nagged at me more and more the longer I'd thought about it. Getting in on the interrogation would give me the perfect chance to find out why.
As for imagining Cooper had any interest in me beyond professional, I could only conclude that my long day was finally getting to me. He was a grown man, probably three times my age when it came right down to it. He wasn't pining away from sentimental longings of any kind. Certainly not for me.
The sense of loss intensified, but I ignored it. I was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them. Especially where Cooper was concerned.
* * *
The interrogation room I walked into with Cooper was just like the ones I'd seen on TV when I was a kid—beat-up Formica table, three uncomfortable looking chairs, two-way glass on one wall. The only changes were the kind of technology law enforcement used. And the re-enforced, magically enhanced silver-steel cage built into the ceiling, walls, door and glass.
The irony of being back where I'd started that morning wasn't lost on me. I estimated it was about one in the morning, nearly seventeen hours later, and I felt the strain and fatigue like a dead weight on my shoulders. I hoped I could stay sharp enough to make the most out of the interview before any court-appointed lawyers showed up.
Cooper was back to his usual all-business self as he placed his iC on the table, touched it to start the recording and gestured for me to take a seat beside him. Across from us, Marla huddled in her chair, handcuffed and looking liked hell. Dark circles smudged her coffee-and-cream cheeks beneath troubled eyes, puffy from crying. She slouched over the table like the weight of the world was on her, which I'd say was an accurate assessment.
She was charged with four counts of murder, and when word got out about it, all the major paranormal factions would want their revenge. But despite all of that, the sharp pain clouding her eyes told me that what bothered her the most was the fact that her fiancé lay in the morgue. It made me wonder even more if she was really our killer.
With slow deliberation, Cooper slid the evidence bag with the dagger toward her. Sean's dried blood still coated the blade. "Tell us what happened, Marla."
I glanced at him, surprised at the gentle tone of his voice. Anger radiated out from him like a raging storm, I could feel it. In fact, with his connection to the latest victim, I was surprised the agency was letting him question the suspect at all. Unless he hadn't told them. Why he'd do that, I could only guess, so I turned my focus back to Marla. She stared at the knife like she'd never seen it before, her eyes wide.
"I...I don't know." She looked from me to Cooper. "My friend told me that Sean was getting off early and wanted to meet, that he had a romantic surprise for me. She gave me the address and I went."
"And?" Cooper prompted when her voice slid into silence.
"It was at the Athena coven's meeting house. The door was unlocked like she said it would be. I went inside. It was dark." She looked back at the knife. "That's all I remember," she whispered, misery clouding her features.
Cooper leaned back in his chair. "If you want our help, you have to tell us the truth."
I braced my arms on the table. "What friend? Kathy?"
A flicker of surprise passed over her face.
"Witnesses reported that you and Sean left the club together," Cooper said, his voice still surprisingly calm.
"No," Marla answered, shaking her head. "I wasn't there. The other bartender, Ax, he knows. I always sit in the same place while Sean works. He saves it for me. I wasn't there."
"He claims Sean said he wasn't feeling well and left early. That you offered to take him home," Cooper said.
Agitation tightened her shoulders. "No, that's not right. Sean was supposed to meet me."
From the way he had his fist clenched on his thigh, I could tell that Cooper didn't believe her, but my intuition had kicked up like a runaway chainsaw. Something didn't feel right about any of this. Marla had secrets, I was sure of that. I just wasn't convinced that she was lying about this. "Why did you pretend to be the distraught woman in love that day I interviewed you after your sponsor was killed?"
"I...thought Sean might have done it."
"And how do you know Kathy?" I asked.
Her gaze shifted away from me, and then back. "I don't."
"Tell me how you know her," I pressed, leaning toward her across the table. "Do you want to go to prison for the rest of your life, or worse?"
"I don't know who you're talking about."
"This isn't a game," I said sternly. "You're accused of murdering p
aranormals. Do you know how that goes down in real life? Humans murdering paranormals?"
She gave a choked sob. Wrapping her arms around her upper body, she hugged herself and seemed to shrink further into the chair.
"We like to pretend we're civilized and all get along, but dig below the surface and that isn't how it is," I continued. "They don't give a rat's tail about human laws. They have their own code, Marla. And unsanctioned killing is unforgivable. Do you understand?"
Her body trembled as she cried silently, rocking back and forth as her fear drowned her. Cooper's expression became an unemotional mask except for his mouth which had flattened into a hard line that might be a reflection of his anger, or mean he disapproved of my rough methods, or was just plain annoyed.
A part of me regretted having to ride her so hard, but I knew it was necessary. Everything I had said was true. If we didn't get to the bottom of this soon, she'd pay the price for the murders, guilty or innocent.
"Tell us everything," I said, softening my tone. "Anything could be important."
"I told you, I don't remember anything after I went into the meeting house," she sobbed.
"Did Sean know you were a user?" Cooper asked in a neutral voice.
"What?" she said, looking up. "I don't—"
I threw a quick frown at Cooper for interrupting me just when I was about to zero in on something that might be of some use.
"Did he want you to stop?" he continued. "Was that what started the fight?"
"Who was the practitioner you were meeting tonight?" I interjected.
Marla shook her head, making her short hair swing around her ears. "No, you don't understand. We don't fight. We love each other." Her mouth trembled. "We...loved each other. And I was only meeting Sean."
"Tests show you shot up just after you left the club. Did your sponsor get you hooked on VR?" Cooper pressed. "How'd he take the news when you told him you'd found someone else?"
"We—"
"Did Sean help you kill him?" he growled and her face paled.
"He didn't know anything about it, I swear!"
"How do you know Kathy?" I asked.
"We worked together in New York. Zone eight, you can look it up!"
"What happened tonight, Marla?" Cooper asked.
"I told you!" She started sobbing again. "I didn't see anything. Just images. Dreams. It wasn't real." She covered her face with her hands. "It wasn't real!"
I turned away from her and leaned closer to Cooper. "Can this VR of yours cause hallucinations?"
He shook his head and reached for his iC.
A short, impatient knock hit the door just before it burst open. Two men in immaculately tailored dark suits barged in. The younger one, a tall guy who looked more like a bouncer than a lawyer went immediately to Marla. I thought he was going to grab her arm and haul her out of the chair, but he all he did was plant himself next to her and look ominous.
The other one, a powerfully built older man with a sharp nose and hard, intelligent eyes, stared coldly at Cooper and me. "This interview is now over."
"Harlow," Cooper said through clenched teeth. "This isn't vamp business."
An icy shock ricocheted around my stomach.
"No?" the vamp lawyer purred.
"A practitioner and a Were have also died. This is beyond the Church now."
"Nothing is beyond the Church. Lord Bellmonte's protégé was the first to be assaulted. That gives us prior claim." Harlow quirked one brow as he smirked at Cooper.
Cooper pushed slowly to his feet and braced his fists on the table. "This crosses race jurisdiction. It stays with the FBI."
Marla cowered down and cast me a pleading look. On some level, she must have understood what it would mean if she were turned over to the Church.
"I have a court order that says otherwise." Harlow sauntered up to the table and laid his briefcase down. Snapping the expensive, Italian leather open, he pulled out a packet of papers and handed them to Cooper. Vamp policy discouraged keeping important documents in digital form. Too easy to alter.
Cooper glanced through the papers. After a moment, he smiled. "Tsk, tsk, Mr. Harlow. Someone on your staff didn't do their due diligence." Dropping the court order onto the table, he shoved it toward the lawyer. "Don't take it too hard. Even the best inside sources don't know everything."
Harlow narrowed his eyes at Cooper. "Mr. O'Donnel," he said to the other man without taking his eyes off of Coop. "The girl."
Cooper reached behind him and rapped on the two-way glass. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
From the open doorway, the sound of a weapon being cocked filled the tense silence. Stillman stood in the hall, her legs braced, her arm at her side with her Glock pointed at the floor. She looked even more exhausted than she had at the murder scene. A woman on the edge. Even the haughty, over-confident Harlow tensed up a bit at the sight.
"I hate to disappoint you," Cooper continued, "but our initial evaluation showed the suspect as suffering from paranoia, hallucinations, and severe memory loss. Current policy requires us to do a full psyche eval before she can be released into your custody. I'm sure you understand."
Hatred burned in Harlow's eyes as Cooper smirked at him in turn and a dark flush crept up over his face. "You tread on dangerous ground, Daine," he hissed.
"Don't worry. We'll keep her safe for you."
The two vamp minions exchanged a look, and then Harlow snapped his briefcase closed. "We'll be in touch. Soon."
"I look forward to it."
Stillman stepped back as the lawyers passed her, but I saw her finger twitch on the trigger. Apparently she wasn't the only one disappointed that things hadn't worked out differently.
Cooper nodded to her to escort Marla back to her holding cell. "Put together a team to keep watch," he said. "Twenty-four seven. Weres only, and of those, only the ones you personally know can be trusted. I'll hold you responsible if anything happens to her."
She nodded and helped Marla to her feet. The girl sagged against the Were. The last encounter had taken everything out of her and Stillman had to practically carry her from the room.
"You think she was telling the truth?" I asked him. "That she really doesn't know what happened?"
"She was lying. Unfortunately, at the moment we have bigger problems."
We exchanged a look and I nodded. Someone had leaked information to Lord Bellmonte, and the Regent needed to be convinced to back off.
Looked like I had one more social call to make before I could finally call it a day.
* * *
The hoverbuses ran all night in the city, so I had no problem catching one to South King and Baxton. I sat down next to a woman dressed in hospital scrubs and tapped out a message to Falcon on my loaner iC. Marla's reluctance to out Kathy as her friend didn't make sense to me. Why protect her if she hadn't done anything? She'd mentioned the zone they'd worked in New York, and I hoped Falcon could manage a little research and snooping mojo to find out more about her.
As an afterthought, I mentioned the extra symbols that were popping up around the main one, plus a few other details that were bugging me. Since Falcon liked to keep late hours, I wasn't entirely surprised when he messaged back that he'd get right on it. I asked him to send me his latest gadget wish list and that I'd see what I could do. When I was finished, I pocketed the iC.
Leaning my head against the seat, I closed my eyes and tried to figure out what I was missing in this case. The next thing I knew, the nurse next to me was asking if this wasn't my stop. Sitting up, I rubbed the grit out of my eyes, thanked her and blearily got to my feet. She gave me a sympathetic look and went back to her book.
Despite being nearly two in the morning, business was booming at V.A.M.P. headquarters. I repeated the routine of my last visit, enduring the corporate shill stares while I got a background check, had my hunting knife and both throwing knives retrieved from my boots and was treated to a thorough pat-down. Finally, I was whisking skyward in the plush and sil
ent penthouse elevator.
Ms. Fairview greeted me at the top, her fifty-something face seeming more care worn than before and her brown eyes more wary. "Lord Bellmonte is currently unavailable. If you'll please have a—"
"It's an emergency." I came around her desk, took advantage of her momentary shock and jammed my palm against the shiny chrome button that opened the door. As the door swung outward, I made a dash for it.
She beat at the button frantically, clearly alarmed. "You can't go in there!" Giving up, she went for one of the drawers in her desk. I didn't wait around to see what kind of deterrent she planned to pull from it.
"I'm sorry I had to force you!" I called over my shoulder as I slipped through the narrowing space of the closing door.
Unfortunately for me, Lord Bellmonte was having his dinner.
He looked up from the young, toffee-skinned woman sprawled across his lap in the throws of profound bliss, his sharp, curved fangs extended and his mouth red with blood. His face was as far from the handsome, debonair businessman as a rat was from a butterfly, and I wanted desperately to look away.
Survival skill number one since the paranormals revealed themselves? Never look away.
I nervously tugged at the hem of my skirt and palmed one of the special hard plastic needles from the narrow pocket I'd sewn into the hem. "Sorry to interrupt," I said. "Matter of life and death."
The dilated pupils of his blood-engorged eyes expanded until they were pitch black, a horrifying contrast to the red surrounding them. I felt his sudden hunger for me ripple off of him in a wave of power. My knees almost buckled from it.
I'd decided before that his interest in me was nothing but a kind of curiosity. I'd been fatally wrong.
The need to escape overwhelmed me, and I reflexively grabbed for the door handle. I could have shot myself for it.
The show of fear sent his blood lust into overdrive and the bubbling cackle of a vamp about to charge rattled deep in his throat. His corpse-like face hardened into a feral mask as he struggled to control himself. I held my breath, knowing that a single twitch of movement could set him off, and stared as he wrestled down his instinctive drive to hunt and feed.
