“No.” Would he ever be? “I left a killer to tear someone else’s life apart.”
Delicate fingers gripped his forearm. “You’re not responsible for that. And it’s killers, not only one killer. Remember the multiple blood traces?”
He disagreed on the responsibility part, but something else she’d said bothered him. He faced her, his brow furrowed. “That’s right.”
“Why do you sound surprised?”
“Just…can’t believe this comes down to an intercaste conflict.”
“Maybe. Were there problems between the castes during the old case?”
“Yes, but there always are.” The facts tumbled around like dice, but it made as little sense now as it had nearly fifty years ago. They’d never found any other blood on the scene of the Infancy killings but the victim’s. What he’d found in Hes’s journal had seemed damned clear on the steps of the ritual, and none of it involved other blood. He hated the idea of rehashing it with Declan, but his teammate was the only one likely to help him find the motive. If they could work that out, the rest was sure to follow. He had more footwork to do before he could feed tonight.
His eyes went instinctively to the pulse at Alice’s throat. Damned if he’d get a repeat of the other night, but he craved it. The memory of it would last an eternity, seared as it was into his very fabric. Feeding was routine, and though he’d often partaken of the physical need in the past while sating his hunger, he’d reached the point of not feeling any these days.
Until he met Alice.
“I’ll meet you later, hopefully with some answers.”
That cute crease appeared between her dainty eyebrows. “Where are you going? Do you need help?”
“No. I need to feed.”
Her lips formed a little O of surprise and a deep, rosy blush colored the apples of her cheeks. Damn her. She was interested whether she wanted to be or not. How dare she make him turn to some stranger for his needs when she was the one he wanted?
“Can I ask you something, Alice?”
“Of course.”
“Why do you hate cops so much?”
“Oh.” She fidgeted with a silver charm on her bracelet. “Uhm. They’re a bunch of crooked bastards.” She stared pointedly at him. “They do whatever they want and get away with it. Lie, cheat, steal, maim, murder. Twist things to make it seem like they’re innocent. You name it. And they act like they’re better than everyone else because they have a badge.”
He fingered his own Tracker medallion tucked behind his belt. “Something must have happened to make you feel that way. Not all cops are dirty.”
“In my world, they are, Ian.” She didn’t bother explaining, her mood changing with the speed of a flash flood. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that question. “I have to go. I need to check in with my detectives and search the casebooks. I’m not even sure we have records as far back as the Infancy murders.”
“You won’t, but I’ll get them to you.”
Ready to bolt, she pressed against the door with her grip on the handle. Maybe she was right. He was no better than what she’d described. Apparently, a murderer hiding behind his medallion. He’d saved more lives than he could count, but one mistake wiped it all away as if none of the good in him existed. And she deserved better.
“Good night, Alice.” He couldn’t watch her get out and walk away. His desire to feed left with her. As he pulled away from the curb, he reminded himself how difficult she was. Why would he even want someone who despised him and what he did?
Forcing himself to concentrate, he turned the car toward Declan’s place. The caustic vampire would see things he might have overlooked. Dec had to be one of the best Trackers the Legion had. He’d cracked the case in the Infancy killings when he’d come across a journal in his investigation. So what if the guy had skewed the rules in order to find the evidence? It had been enough to morally damn Hes, not that the evidence had mattered.
Hes had collected enough high-ranking Dominorum in his pocket to weasel out of the charges. In hindsight, and with the killings beginning anew, Hes couldn’t have been the murderer, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t known the killer’s identity, or maybe had disciples do the killing for him. Regardless, Ian couldn’t live in denial anymore, not after this. His sole motivation for taking Hes out had been revenge.
A quick call to Dec went to voice mail. He might have been at Ezra’s. Ian had missed the last two team meetings, but no one had called him on it. Ezra was the kind of guy who’d give him space, considering the case he was working. It didn’t take long to get from downtown to the Pioneer Square building that housed Ezra’s penthouse loft. His foot barely hit the first step when Dec came out the front gate.
“Just the fella I was looking for.”
Dec sighed but jogged down the steps toward him. “So you found time to join us.”
“I missed you, too.” Ian’s grin died a slow death when Dec didn’t respond. Declan had always been a temperamental creature, but he’d also always been a squared-away militant, alert and neatly trimmed all around. But his dark hair was disheveled, his cheeks leaner than before, his jaw rough with day-old growth, his eyes dull with fatigue. A tear in the sleeve of his ivory dress shirt was a sure indication Ian had missed something big. “What’s up with you, partner?”
“Everything.” Dec never beat around a bush when it was so much more violent and therapeutic to beat the bush directly. The man had to have some avenue to vent that cynical wrath he kept bottled up. “There was a riot at Ptolomy’s gates early tonight. Nearly a hundred Legion demanding a division of state, tired of being treated like subservient peons.”
“At Ptolomy’s?”
Now that was surprising. After the recent deaths of the ruling couple, Olen Rex and Domina Evangeline, they thought the world would go to war, but Kade, too young to take his father’s throne as the new Rex, had come up with the brilliant idea of making Ptolomy his Regent until Kade was old enough to satisfy Immortalis protocol.
Though freakishly trapped in a teenage surfer-boy body with gauged ears and a porn-star-bunny entourage, Ptolomy was an extremely powerful Dominus. His appointment should have satisfied the Immortalis as a whole, Legion and Dominorum alike. Ian would have been fine with Kade, but he wasn’t so sure Dec would be satisfied no matter who ruled the Immortalis. His friend’s discontent ran deeper, enough to spur him to attend a few clandestine Legion meetings intent on an uprising. Damn him to hell.
“Yeah,” Dec said. “They say he’s a meatpuppet, that he’s going to cut transformations in half and require blood-donor registration. The rumor is he’s going to require Immortalis registration at the demand of the humans. That’s only a step away from putting us into camps. Segregation.”
Ian winced at the idea. “What does Ptolomy say?”
“Threw the bullshit flag. Said that would be a leap backward in human relations. He doesn’t know where these rumors are coming from, but they’re enough to stir things up again.”
“Guess it doesn’t help Kade’s going to mate the Vice Director of the VLO.” He shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “Where are you in this?” As if he didn’t know that answer.
Dec glanced around the empty street and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Where I’m supposed to be. Keeping the peace. If, and that’s a big if, the Legion secedes from the Dominorum, I’ll still be where I’m supposed to be.”
“And that is…”
Dec made eye contact this time. “With the Legion.”
“The Dominorum won’t let us go easily. It’ll be a fight.”
“Yes, I’m well aware.”
“It would be a bad idea to secede.” Many of the Dominorum were friends he considered extended family. “I don’t agree with it, and I don’t like it. It would weaken all vampires against the humans. We should be united.”
That familiar darkness entered Dec’s eyes. “We’re not united now. Never have been.”
Those words, more than anyth
ing, showed Ian the root cause of his friend’s bitterness.
“On some levels, perhaps,” he said. He held Dec’s gaze. “I’ll be beside you, wherever you belong.”
“No kissing on the mouth.” A smile didn’t accompany the declaration of brotherhood, but Ian knew it was inside somewhere.
He flashed a grin. “Wouldn’t be the first time a man has caught my eye.”
“Yeah?” Dec headed toward Ian’s ride. “Do they dry-hump you like the women do?”
“What? You’ve never fed from a man before?”
Dec snorted but declined to answer.
“You’re missing out. Forceful. So damned hot. All that power driven by lust. You should try it naked.”
“I’ll live vicariously through you.”
Ian climbed in the Bentley with a laugh. “What can I say? I’m open-minded.” He fought against the memories, but the wounds from the past went deep.
Dec didn’t need an explanation for his sudden silence. “You miss Sean.”
“Always.”
“But this case you’re working with Alice, it’s shoving it in your face again.” At Ian’s nod, Dec turned to face the windshield. “I’ll help however I can.”
“Yep, and it happens that it’s why I’m here. Are we going to my place or yours for our hot date?”
“Yours,” Dec said a little too quickly. “If I have to stare at my walls another minute, the vesania will get me, forget my age.”
“Dec, I think you need to get a life. Find a nice mate. That always staves off the vesania. But good luck finding a woman who’d put up with your pissy arse.”
Another snort was his answer. Dec was like Sean in many ways, with a well of darkness Ian was inexorably drawn to. The power to shine the light into that well filled him until he grew twenty feet tall. He needed it like he needed blood. Which explained Alice. But unlike with Sean, Ian wanted to ride between her legs until the woman couldn’t walk straight. Jokes aside, he’d been as close to Sean as a man could get without sex. Losing his maker had crippled him, but getting intimate with Alice invited utter annihilation. Her unspoken need for what he had to offer was going to suck him so far in, he’d never find a way out.
Once they’d arrived and settled into the business of reviewing the casebooks, the rest of the night flew by until the tug of dawn forced them to break for the night.
“The blood’s significant.”
Ian glanced up from his laptop. “Yes, but what are you thinking?”
“It’s a big difference between the serials. The Infancy Killer was meticulous. Made each ritual identical. The new murders use different candles, and the placement is off. Whoever’s killing now weren’t involved with those old murders. There had to have been only one Infancy Killer or the scenes would be the same.” Dec leaned on the desk in front of Ian. “You got the right guy, Ian. Don’t doubt yourself.”
Ian sat back in his seat. “Why would I do that? My blood’s as cold as yours.”
“I’ve known you much too long to play games. I can feel your guilt like it’s under my skin.”
Ian eyed his friend for a long moment. “You’re a good man, Dec.”
And there it was, the yearly laugh from Dec. It could be a while before he heard another. “And you’re a fucking angel, white wings and all. Angels don’t drool over men, by the way. Just thought you’d like to know.”
“Hey, men can be as beautiful as women. Don’t knock it till you try it.” Ian stretched and folded his hands behind his head. “So if these are disciples of Hes, why the long wait in between murders?”
“Why do they have to be disciples? Maybe he didn’t know them, and they came across the same ritual Hes used.”
“No one has that information. It died with Hes. And it’s in the journal, of course, safely stowed away in a dusty corner with the Trackers.”
Dec paced in front of the desk before leaning on it again. “Are we sure about that?”
“No fucking way, Dec. Only Trackers have access.”
“Maybe we’re probing the wrong ass, Ian. We’ve been pegging the Dominorum, but with all this crap going on with the Legion…Let’s just leave it at that.”
Well then. Ian made a quick call to headquarters. After an extended wait on the phone, their answer came back, one that shook him to the marrow.
“Goddamn, Dec. You were right. The journal’s missing.”
“Fucking-A, I’m a genius.”
“Now it’s a matter of finding out who nabbed it.”
“And then we’ll have our killers.”
Chapter Eleven
Having Ian drop her off at the VLO might have been a bad idea. Alice couldn’t concentrate on work. After struggling through yet another dry addendum, she finally tossed the file aside. She should have forced herself to read them all, but it was a lost cause when she had to reread each page over and over again. Graham’s time was running out.
If he’d been turned as a Dominus, she’d have more leeway. But no such luck. He was Legion, and that gave him absolutely no protection. The dual-caste system wasn’t very kind in some ways.
Ian was a Legion, and he didn’t seem to mind the way things were. Then again, she’d never brought up the issue. How did he feel about being a second-class citizen in his world? Maybe being a Tracker put him on a different level. It certainly appeared that way. Once he’d popped into her mind, she couldn’t shake him.
What was he doing now in his last hour before dawn? If he’d found something, he would have called her.
Most likely. Okay, maybe not. She’d been rather abrupt with him after shooting him down. Condescending even, lumping him in with all of the other cops she’d ever met. He wasn’t exactly like them, though. On one level, she understood that. When he did things his way, made his own rules, it wasn’t for his personal gain, but for justice, and that alone set him apart.
Even with that motivation, it didn’t make his methods right, only reckless. Eventually, he’d make a mistake that would cost a life or harm an innocent. If only he would go after his cases within the realm of the law. That night at Ander’s, he hadn’t even made an attempt. He’d jumped in the deep end and dragged her along with him without thinking of the consequences.
Murders happened, and bad guys got away with it all the time. It was the way the world worked. Some people never found justice. People like Zach. And she’d tried. Oh, she’d tried.
After locking her office, she headed to the lobby. She hadn’t been able to catch Campbell, but Denton had given her a ring. Again, no witnesses. There’d been no sign of any bites, only a clean slash across the throat. No signs of struggle. Either the kill had been quick, or the victims had known the murderers.
There had to be some connection with Ander. It was more than coincidence he was tied to the victims. She was dying to get her hands on the records from the Infancy cases. There had to be links there, too. She pulled out her cell phone to call Ian, but hesitated.
He wouldn’t have forgotten. If he hadn’t sent the files over, it was because he was occupied. Maybe feeding.
Holy cow, that didn’t feel good, knowing another woman might be writhing against him in ecstasy. He could be thrusting inside the donor with something other than his fingers.
Arggg. She’d rejected him. Even for a hot, meaningless fling.
Idiot.
But it was the right thing to do. An Immortalis of his age wouldn’t blink an eye at the rejection anyway. He could have countless women at his feet with that barely there Irish lilt, boyish grin, and sex-on-speed body.
What was he doing hitting on someone like her, a mousy, reclusive, glorified secretary who suffered from depression and a meager bank account?
She reached her shabby little apartment. Alone. Again. Throwing her purse on the chipped, leaning-tower of a coffee table, she ambled toward the bedroom. The cold, silent stillness sank into her, making her shiver. A hot shower might be in order. Or some comfort food.
Damn. She never did get to eat that lus
cious cheesecake in her fridge.
Outside the spare room, she rested her hand against the closed door. Zach was in there. She could feel his presence like a living thing. Not his body, of course. That was resting comfortably at the care home, but he was with her in spirit. The football trophies, Hot Wheels, his collection of NFL sweatshirts—all waiting for him.
Football had been his life, and he could have gone pro. Had his full-ride scholarship to Washington State already in the bag when his dreams had cut short with a careless shot from a gun.
God, why did she torture herself like this? Keeping the signs of his life bordered on creepy hoarding. Even with the temporary pay increase, she couldn’t afford a two-bedroom apartment much longer. Eventually, she’d have to go through his things, but clearing it all out meant Zach wouldn’t return. It meant giving up.
Ditching the shower idea, she blew out a sigh and headed to bed. She was exhuming things again that she didn’t want dug up. All right, she’d clear the room out. Tomorrow. Maybe she could get a Valium or three from Piper later to get her through that wringer.
Only, she couldn’t sleep once she’d slid under the covers. Every time she closed her eyes, Ian’s face hovered. His eyes had blazed a hot red when he’d hungered for her.
Was that fire for her? Did he touch the other women he bit the way he had her?
She’d had a few regular boyfriends and some amazing sex, but none lit her up the way he had. Sizzling. Might have been about his fangs, the aphrodisiac emitted from the pores at the back of them.
Who was she kidding? Before he’d even grazed her neck, she’d wanted him. The lust was sharper because of her attraction to him. No matter how strong it tugged at her, ignoring the attraction was a necessity for survival. From how he viewed the world, to his actions, he was too different.
Not to mention he was a centuries-old vampire. She could apply for transformation, but there were no guarantees of approval.
If she turned, someone would have to bite her, someone decidedly not Ian since he wasn’t an adjuvant. That held not one bit of appeal to her. Would she drink from him or would she have to feed from a donor? Would she miss the sunlight? She rarely enjoyed the sun as it was. Between working and taking care of her parents’ house, she rarely went into it anyway. She’d never been antivampire like Val, and had even considered working for a donor service when she’d been particularly desperate with the finances. In the end, it had felt too much like whoring herself out. Now that she’d experienced a feeding…
Bad Cop (Entangled Covet) Page 8
