“Connor Gregory,” he said simply.
The name didn’t mean a thing to her, but the Judge’s eyes widened and he paled. His gaze darted around the room as if searching for escape. After a long, tense moment, his shoulders slumped and he slid to a seat on the edge of the bed.
“What do you want to know? But for Christ’s sake, hurry up and ask what you want, then get out of here.”
“Tell me how the vampires have been murdered,” Eric asked slowly.
The Judge opened his mouth, snapped it shut. He glanced at her, then back to Eric, before staring at the door. “We’re not sure. There’s no reason for them to be dead. Nothing we’ve been able to find.”
Eric fisted his hands on his thighs. “Who, exactly, is we?”
“The city coroner. He’s an Arcaine, a gorgon I believe.”
Cat blinked. Really? She hadn’t known any gorgons lived in New Orleans. Not that she was surprised at the fact, just that she hadn’t known. Making sure he didn’t turn people to stone with his gaze must be a tricky thing to prevent.
“Where can I find him?” Eric asked.
Before Cat could reply, the Judge rattled off the address to the city’s main morgue.
Eric settled back in his chair. “And all the disappearances? We know vampires are going missing, what about other Arcaine?”
The Judge continued to look anywhere but at them. Still pale, his hands shook minutely. “We don’t know anything.”
“Not much use then, are you, for a Judge?” Eric sneered.
The man scowled at the floor. “If you have no other questions, you need to leave. Now.”
Cat took a step closer. “What about all the wolf shifters coming into town lately?”
The Judge’s face went blank, eyes wild, flashing a hint of wolfy ice blue. He jumped to his feet and stomped to the door, swinging it open. “Pack business has nothing to do with anyone else.” His voice, full of bravado, cracked on the last word and a terror far beyond mere fear leaked through.
Cat followed him. “Then why are they attacking me and mine? I have a coven member currently in a coma from a wolf attack.” She watched his expression closely. “He was bitten by your kind in both wolf, and human forms. Tell me about that.”
The Judge swayed, turning so white she feared he was about to pass out. “There’s no way that could happen.” But his voice didn’t ring true.
“What makes a wolf attack in human form?” she demanded.
Hastily working to recover, the Judge stared stonily at her. “I said get out.”
Eric rose and took her arm, leading her from the room. Behind them, the door slammed with a loud bang.
She studied Eric for a long moment, refusing to allow her temper to take control. High-handed male. “I wasn’t done.”
“He’s not going to tell us one damn thing more.” He dropped her arm and moved down the hall toward the elevator. “Between loyalty to the pack and whatever is scaring the hell out of him, he’s useless.”
“What could make him so afraid?” She followed, anger bubbling. “He’s a Judge, for crying out loud.”
“Dunno,” Eric absently replied. He reached to hit the elevator call button, but she grabbed his hand and stopped him.
Eric stared at her, jerking his hand away. The urge to step back was clear in his blue eyes.
She barely stopped herself from poking a finger at his chest. “You expect me to accept all this? We didn’t find out anything new. Nothing to help.”
Eric clenched and unclenched the hand she’d touched. “Not true. I’ll talk to the coroner. He’s bound to know more.”
She wedged herself between him and the elevator buttons. Not that it would prevent him leaving if he truly wanted to. Take the stairs, jump out a window. Either would be an easy way out for a vampire.
Finally, he sighed, as if resigned. “Fine. We will go talk to the coroner.”
Cat smiled and pushed the call button herself, then willed the elevator to hurry before he changed his stubborn mind.
* * *
Sitting in the warm SUV as Eric drove, the world turned into a mystical snow globe around them, Cat tried to calm her worry and fear. Settle the thoughts uselessly circling the same questions, like a dog trying to capture the reflection of a bone.
Nothing would come of it without answers that it seemed they’d never find.
Sure, go see the gorgon coroner. Even if he knew anything, why would he talk to them?
She risked a surreptitious glance at Eric from beneath her eyelashes. Yes, he was intimidating. He probably couldn’t even help it. He was so big. Not just his height, but the rippling muscles on his arms and across his chest.
Slowly following her directions—though to give him credit, New Orleans natives weren’t exactly used to driving in snow, as evidenced by the many accidents they passed—Eric finally reached the city morgue.
The building towered darkly over the parking lot. Made of gray stone weathered by age, it was three stories tall. The top two floors were dark this time of night. A few streetlights cast scattered, fragmented light onto the lot.
Eric grabbed his huge axe as he left the car, strapping it over his shoulder and patting the handle once as if for assurance.
She followed him to the front door. By the time they made it inside, her heels and stockings to mid calf were soaked. Her hair had passed beyond wet, into the realm of frozen.
Eric reached back and grabbed his braid, drawing it from beneath his shirt. Like his immense size, his hair kept coming and coming. The silvery-blond plait was thick and long. But not nearly as impressive as when it had hung loose around him the other night. She must have made some noise, because he pinned her with an intense glare.
As if he could read her mind, the heat of a blush crawled up his neck. He licked his lips as his gaze flickered down to her chest. Her nipples stiffened as she imagined him seeing her naked. Her libido—crazy around him—sent her thoughts down a distracting path.
Without a word, he turned and continued down the hall to the head coroner’s office.
With a shrug, she followed. She was getting to him and didn’t bother to hide her smile at that knowledge. Maybe he’d stop giving her the brooding, silent treatment.
At the office door, Eric didn’t bother to knock, just pushed inside. It was empty.
“Great,” he muttered.
They headed down the hall, Eric opening every door until they found someone. “Doctor Argus?” he barked.
The man inside quivered in his seat, then pointed to the right. “Autopsy.”
Eric continued on.
“Thank you,” Cat said to the man as she passed his office.
The autopsy room smelled like a hospital, making her stomach churn at the overpowering odor of alcohol and stale blood. And death.
An older man, he looked to be in his sixties, hovered over a body he was currently cutting into. He didn’t look up when they entered, but a moment later, he sniffed the air. Slowly turning to face them, he asked, “Friend or foe?”
Cat averted her gaze, not daring to stare a gorgon in the eyes.
“Depends,” Eric replied.
At the same time, she stated, “Friend.”
Argus grinned, his lined, weathered face wrinkling. “Be with you in a moment. You can have a seat over there.” He pointed to a row of chairs.
Cat took a seat. Eric stood on the other side of the door, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
The doctor smiled kindly and Cat realized what he reminded her of. She’d once seen a cute basset hound, its face droopy and wrinkled.
Doctor Argus resembled that pup a great deal.
After a quiet ten minutes or so, he spoke up without looking their way. “Glaring isn’t going to make me work faster.”
“Humph,” was Eric’s reply.
“I’m going to wait outside,” she said, unable to bear the overpowering stench of death and decay any longer without a break. It brought back too many memories. Too many d
eaths she’d witnessed over the centuries.
Sure, it was a part of life. But losing those she’d come to know or love during their short life spans still hurt.
Slipping back out into the hall, she realized the antiseptic odor clung to her now, as if trying to claim her—cleanse her.
Chapter Ten
Eric watched Cat leave. Her face was pale, sweat beading at her temples as if she was fevered. He hurried out into the hall after her, gritting his teeth. He felt... worried about her. Something was wrong. “What is it?”
She moved further down the hall to a wooden bench and sank onto it. “Nothing. Doesn’t everyone hate hospitals?”
He followed slowly, catching the hint of pain in her voice. “Only when they have a reason to,” he replied cautiously.
“Well, I don’t. Guess it’s just common superstition.” She stared at him, her chin raised, as if daring him to argue.
He stepped closer, damn well taking her dare. “Look—”
The door opened and the doctor came out. “It’s not often vampires visit me. I’m Hippochras Argus. You can call me Parker. How can I help you?”
Eric stared at the doctor’s forehead.
“Ah,” the old man said. “Don’t worry. Between my glasses,” he tapped the frames, “and the special contacts I wear, you’ll be safe. I give you my word.”
Eric wasn’t one much to trust anyone, even if this man’s words rang with truth. He continued to stare at the doctor’s forehead.
On the bench, Cat gasped. “Your eyes are beautiful,” she whispered.
Unconsciously, Eric’s gaze met the doctor’s. His eyes were silver, as if circular mirrors ringed the irises.
Argus was still smiling. “Technology is wonderful these days. Makes me safe to be around others. Come, let’s retire to my office where we can speak in privacy.”
As he led them down the hall, Argus linked his arm with Cat’s.
Eric’s stomach churned at seeing the doctor touch her. He assured himself he was only concerned for her safety. He was her sitter after all.
“You wouldn’t believe the many years I spent alone, for fear of sending more poor creatures to their graves,” Argus said. “Now, I’m helping to save lives.”
Eric glanced sharply at the back of the man’s graying head. “You work in a morgue. They’re already dead.”
Argus craned his head in an eerie, inhumanly way. “I don’t sleep, boy. My second job is as a scientist. Do you know how close we are to finding cures for some of the deadliest diseases? My work here only enhances my understanding of how mortal bodies can become ravaged by those plagues.”
“Humph,” Eric replied.
Cat looked up at the doctor with admiration, making the roiling in the pit of Eric’s stomach flare even more. He ignored it, instead concentrating on the man in front of him.
Argus could act the kindly old grandfather, looking out for mortals, all he wanted. But the man was a monster, not even human.
And Eric didn’t trust him one bit.
In the office, Argus pulled out a seat for Cat, then rounded his desk and took a throne-like chair. “So, how can I help you?”
Cat started to speak, but Eric grasped her shoulder, squeezing lightly to urge caution.
She glanced up at him, mouth still open in surprise.
Eric said, “The werewolf Judge sent us regarding the recent murders. The Judge stated the two of you couldn’t figure out how they died.”
That should make Argus pause if he thought about harming them. All Arcaine knew the power of the Judges.
Not that the wolf would lift a hand to help them, but the doctor wouldn’t know that.
Except the sparkle in the man’s eyes and his sly grin said he did know. “Well, now,” Argus began. “I assume you’d like to see for yourself.”
Cat shuddered beneath his hand and Eric realized he was still touching her. And he realized it calmed him, helped him focus. That shouldn’t be. He dropped his hand, though when she shivered again, he immediately wanted to comfort her.
Trying harder to ignore the soft feelings stirring, Eric glanced back to the doctor.
The man was assessing them both, as if trying to decide how good a meal they’d make.
Eric almost reached for his axe for comfort, but restrained himself. “I would, yes. Cat can stay here.”
She jumped to her feet, flashing him an impervious, irritated look. “I’m coming too.”
Eric shrugged.
Argus grinned wider as he stood. “Well, then. The bodies are kept in a hidden basement room. Posterity, you understand. Allow me to lead the way.”
On the opposite side of his office, he tugged a hidden lever behind a set of filing cabinets. As if they were connected, they swung out, revealing a narrow opening leading to a descending staircase. The doctor flipped a switch, and light dimly illuminated the steps.
“Ready?” Argus asked, his tone challenging.
This time, Eric did reach up to rub the handle of his axe.
Oh, yeah. He was ready. He’d be ready for anything.
* * *
Cat stared into the shadows, a dark premonition creeping ghostly fingers up her spine. She didn’t want to go down there.
Dreaded going down there, though she didn’t know why.
But she wasn’t staying behind. These were her coven members. At the very least, she owed it to them to make this final trek, honor them with her presence, figure out how they had been murdered.
She stood, wobbling on her still chilled feet.
Eric grabbed her arm to keep her upright. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.
“Fine.” She grabbed his arm and held herself steady as she pulled off her heels, then left them on the chair. “Let’s go.”
Heading for the doctor, she waited for him to go first, then followed onto the stone steps.
The stairway seemed to only go down about two stories. But by the time they reached the brightly lit room at the bottom, she was chilled inside and out.
Not just from the cold, but from the dark wrongness she’d been feeling lately.
It was stronger down here.
Overpowering, undeniable.
And suddenly she was no longer getting warm, kindly feelings from the doctor, but something much colder. Predatory.
She was grateful for the warmth of Eric’s presence at her back.
The room was about twenty feet wide where the stairs ended, and stretched on about forty feet long. On the far wall, there was a closed door, with five silvery padlocks glinting along the frame, keeping it secured.
She didn’t ask.
To the far right, gurneys lined up against overlarge cabinets bolted to the walls. At the foot of each metal death bed lay smaller tables, covered in numerous medical instruments—syringes filled with different colored liquids, rope, wire, tubing, and bowls of various substances including one which looked like salt, and another with some sparkling blue powder.
“What is all this?” Eric asked from behind her, his voice breaking the silence and making her jump.
His hand brushed her back, as if in comfort. She forced herself not to visibly react as his warmth spread through her, making her feel safer.
If something untoward happened down here, she had plenty of her own weapons to deal with it. She’d probably be able to get out alive. With Eric along, not only did her odds go up, so did her confidence.
Which was strange. She wasn’t used to relying on other people. Hadn’t done so in a very long time.
Argus grinned again, sending ant-like chills prickling over her neck.
Beneath the mirrored contacts, his eyes narrowed as he stared at them. “The morgue beneath the morgue. This is where we bring those who humanity wishes to deny exist. Human fear is... adorable.”
“Adorable?” she repeated.
Argus continued to grin enigmatically.
“And the bodies? Are all of them vampires?” Eric asked brusquely.
Cat couldn’t bel
ieve so. Thirteen of the gurneys held body bags. But she only knew of six murders. The beating of her heart thumped in her ears. The constant ache grew as she was faced with those under her protection. Those she’d failed.
Argus didn’t answer, but headed for the bodies. He stopped at the first one, unzipped the bag to reveal the face and head. “Vampire.”
He moved around the metal table to the second body and did the same thing. Then the next. The first six were vampires from her coven. With each revelation, the pain of their deaths hit harder, fiercer. The guilt burned the back of her throat and turned her stomach.
Eric shot her a questioning glance and she nodded, blinking back the heat of tears.
With trepidation, her stomach sinking and roiling with nausea, she watched as Argus unzipped the seventh corpse, praying she wouldn’t see Abby’s or Jacques’ face beneath any of the remaining bags.
The seventh was another vampire, but no one she recognized. “Where did you find him?”
Argus didn’t glance up as he moved to the next table. “Swamp. You don’t want to see the rest of him.”
She glanced over the body bag, his words forcing her to realize the shape was irregular. Incomplete.
Her arm brushed Eric’s. She’d unconsciously moved closer to him. Thankfully, he didn’t back away. He stared at the newly revealed face on the eighth table.
“I believe this woman was a banshee-fey crossbreed,” Argus stated.
The woman’s hair and lips were tinged green, rather than the bloodless blue of the vampires. The tips of her ears ended in almost imperceptible points.
The next four bodies were shifters. Two wolves, a bear and a lion.
When Argus revealed the thirteenth face, Cat’s knees went weak. With a cry, she ran to the table, uncontrollably sinking to her knees.
Strong, warm arms wrapped around her, holding her up. Eric’s voice broke through her devastation, “I’m sorry, Cat.”
“Nina,” she said, her voice breaking. “You were supposed to have left town.”
Laying her cheek against Eric’s chest, she squeezed her eyes tight, but tears fell anyway. Her heart burned.
Eric rubbed her back awkwardly, but it helped.
She breathed in his scent, using it to force herself to calm. She could cry later. Right now wasn’t the time.
Firestorm: Heart of a Vampire #5 Page 7
