Missy Spangler lay on the stainless steel table with only a sheet covering her body. It was policy for the hospital to do an autopsy if the death seemed suspicious or if the person happened to perish from an unforeseen illness. In Missy Spangler's case, the hospital had most likely become suspicious that three similar cases of women in their early to late twenties had died, or were dying, of heart failure. They would want to rule out some sort of virus that targeted females in their particular age bracket.
Most likely, murder would not enter their minds. Alexander didn't leave obvious evidence. The discoloration on the roof of the mouth could be explained away as bruising from the breathing tubes.
Isabella stood next to the table, staring at the body of Missy Spangler. Sadness etched her features, and she made no move to do… whatever she did to summon. He decided to move this along before Dr. Wilson or anyone else discovered them. "Miss Lucci, must I remind ye that time is of the essence?"
She threw him a disgruntled look, but it propelled her into motion.
They had stopped by Isabella's place on the way here so she could pick up what she needed to conjure a soul. She pulled out a diagram with symbols, a black mirror, and an out of date mobile, a flip-phone no less.
Curious, he stepped closer.
She placed the diagram and the mirror on the woman's chest. She placed the open phone on the table to reveal the screen. She then pulled out a dagger jeweled with an amethyst hilt. She pricked her finger and blood welled at the tip.
Her scent had already played havoc with his senses, and now the aroma of her blood, fresh and dripping onto the diagram for him to see—it took all he could do to rein in the urge to sample her. His fangs elongated and a deep growl escaped his lips.
Isabella looked at him, her brows drawing together sharply.
"Go on. Do no' mind me."
Her gaze shifted to his mouth and he knew she stared at his fangs.
"Ye're safe from me. It's… the blood." He nodded toward her finger. "I'm in control."
She looked as if she didn't believe him. Smart lass. A Grim Sith's word was only as good as his control, and that could change in a flash.
"I'm going to channel," she told him. "Please, don't talk or you might break the link to the other side."
He gave her a curt nod.
She chanted words and it took him a moment to realize the words were spoken in Latin, a prayer of protection he supposed, until she switched back to English, asking for Missy Spangler. She searched for a link to her spirit beyond the veil.
The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. The air around Isabella charged with electricity, making her dark hair stand on end as if tiny fingers held up each strand.
She repeated the words over and over again like a Gregorian chant. "Missy Spangler, a word with you, please. Missy Spangler, a word with you, please." Again and again she repeated the singsong phrase.
Just when he thought it wasn't going to work, the lights in the room flickered and the cell phone rang.
Chapter Thirty-Three
"Missy Spangler, is that you?" Isabella asked.
Garran had moved closer to the table and she showed him the screen on the cell with the 'yes' typed out.
"Missy, we need to know who hurt you?"
Hh…im
The longer the soul was separated from the body, the less coherent they became, and Missy's spirit had been fragmented on top of that.
"We need a name and where she met him." Garran said.
She threw him a disgruntled look and he lifted his hands and mouthed, 'Go on, ask'.
She had to stick with yes and no questions. "Did Alexander hurt you?"
Yes. Appeared on the screen, immediately followed by: Kissed me.
"He kissed you. We know."
Kissed me, was typed out again. Took… me.
This was nearly the same conversation she had with Missy in the hospital. She feared they weren't going to find out much more. The spirit was too damaged. "Where did you meet him? Missy, we need to know."
Dead… I'm dead…cold, so coooold.
"Where did you meet, Alexander?" she repeated with more force.
The lights overhead dimmed. Missy's death-glazed eyes stared at her. The shade was drawing energy from the lights. She would have to break the connection soon or Missy's body would become animated. If that happened, explaining why they were here would fall by the wayside. "Missy, where did you meet the man who killed you?"
Missy's body shook, rattling the table. The phone rang, then vibrated, then rang again, before the words typed on the screen. Siren's Call.
Then everything stilled as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and Missy Spangler's spirit with it.
"What happened?" Garran asked and moved toward the table. "Can ye bring her back?"
She frowned. "I wouldn't advise it. The shade was trying to latch onto Missy's body. If that happened, we would have a heck of a time trying to make it relinquish its hold on this plane of existence. Besides, I doubt we would find out anything more. Missy's essence was too wounded. We were only speaking to the echo, the last thoughts before her soul was taken. It was just an imprint."
He didn't look pleased, but he nodded. "We need to remove the evidence that we were here."
She agreed. The hour was almost up and Harrison and the M.E. would be returning soon. She reached for the paper with the diagram. "I need to burn this." She looked at Garran. "It has my blood on it and the symbols are a doorway."
He took it from her. "We wouldn't want this to fall into the wrong hands." He looked at the paper with curiosity."
"Exactly." She tossed him the throwaway lighter she picked up a few days ago at the mart. As he took care of the diagram, she grabbed the gloves and the cleaning solution she spotted on the counter to wipe the table edge. She didn't believe she touched anything, but she didn't want to chance it.
She glanced at Garran, a handsome man in a rugged way, who looked to be in his mid-to-late twenties. She had a hunch he was much older than his appearance dictated. His eyes gave him away, the windows to the soul…a very old soul. "If they were to find your fingerprints, would you be in a database somewhere?"
He looked at her with a raised brow. She wondered if lifting his brow was a habit or if he was truly surprised by her curiosity.
"Vampires like to stay off the radar, so to speak, but we also must blend in whenever possible. I have a driver's license, credit cards, and other such means a human must have to survive in this mundane world."
It was her turn to raise a brow. "You could have just said yes."
This won her a harrumph.
She'd like to ask him some questions, but the morgue didn't seem the appropriate place. "At least Missy gave us something worth checking out."
He leveled his gaze on her. "Did I miss somethin'?"
"Siren's Call…" When he still gave her a blank look, she added, "It's a karaoke bar."
His face lit up. "Ye've been there?" he asked.
"No, but Johanna mentioned the same bar. I forgot about it until Missy told us she met the Soul Taker there. That's where Johanna met her boyfriend."
"And we've concluded the Soul Taker and your friend's boyfriend are most likely one and the same…" Garran's voice trailed off and his eyes took on a faraway look. She had no doubt he plotted his next move to take down the Soul Taker. A cold expression entered his eyes, turning them grayer than usual, like a storm brewing on the horizon. His gaze then focused on her and his expression changed. She wouldn't exactly say he gave her a friendly look. Toleration was more like it. His hand slipped into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. Holding it up with the display screen toward her, he told her what she already had guessed. "Lunch is over. "
She glanced one more time at Missy with a pang of remorse. Some peopled doubted an afterlife existed, but she knew it did, and Missy had been cheated out of it. When she turned to look at Garran again, she found him studying her with his sharp and savvy eyes. If anyon
e could right the wrong done to Missy, Johanna and the other women, she had a strong hunch Garran would be the man…heck, vampire for the job.
"Are ye ready, Miss Lucci?"
Now wasn't that a loaded question?
Chapter Thirty-Four
Isabella stayed up half the night researching information about werewolves and vampires. She ended up reading a lot of superstitious nonsense, or so she believed. She supposed the preternatural beings didn't go about blogging about their existence, so people like her could learn all about them.
She had all of three hours of sleep before arriving for work. They'd been busy all afternoon and the espressos she'd been downing weren't helping her disposition. Nicholas was interviewing applicants for the waitress position. No one could replace Marcy's sweet smile, but they needed help.
"Mario, I told you I needed the linguini not ravioli," she snapped as she threw down the plate on the counter in front of him. Even with the central air they had installed last year, the kitchen remained uncomfortably warm today.
"Ah, no you didn't. You come back here and said you need two plates of ravioli. I may be old, but I'm no deaf." He waved his hands at her in good Italian flourish.
"Then your ears need a— Ouch!" she screeched as her brother grabbed her arm at the elbow and led her out of the kitchen.
"What's wrong with you?" he hissed.
Nicholas had arrived hours ago, interviewed four people, and still managed to look rested. Right now, she really hated him for that.
Isabella yanked her arm away. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?" She rubbed her arm.
"You're the one who messed up the order. I've heard from the staff that you've been snappy all morning. And don't think I haven't noticed you downing espressos like they're water. If you keep it up, I'll have to peel you off the ceiling. What gives?"
"I needed something to keep me awake." She covered her mouth to stifle a yawn that had crept up on her with perfect timing to prove her point.
"A good night's sleep would work better." His harsh expression softened. "Is this about Johanna? Is this why you're keeping vampire hours?"
"No!" she said, louder than she meant to, but his choice of metaphor set her nerves on edge.
"Then what is so important you can't keep normal hours?"
For half a second, she wanted to tell him the truth, but she feared he would do all he could to stop her helping Harrison and Garran. "What are you the sleep police? It's none of your business, anyway."
He lifted his hands in defense, her bad mood rubbing off on him. "Fine. Stay up late. Feel like crap and become a caffeine junkie. It's all your choice, but don't take it out on the rest of us sane people. Go home, Izzie. Come back to work tomorrow with a better attitude."
He strode back into the kitchen to help Mario with the orders, leaving her there, staring after him like a reprimanded child.
Her brother just kicked her out. She paced, fumed, then marched into the office and grabbed her purse. Fine, let him take care of the evening crowd. She glanced at the clock on the way out. She'd go home, shower, and catch a few hours of sleep before she met with the monster squad.
****
Siren's Call was not far from Tony's Pub. Harrison had been there a few times. Preternatural beings and humans alike frequented the place. Isabella shivered to think this place of fun was used as the Soul Taker's hunting ground.
Isabella met Harrison at the bar early so they could snag a seat with a view of the entire place. He chose a table near the stage, which was more like a platform. A floor monitor was on stage so the patrons could sing along with the words to the song as they flashed up on the screen. Three microphones were available with stands. Two men ran the equipment and another took charge of helping people up and down the stairs to the stage. Most likely to avoid lawsuits if some drunken fool tumbled down and broke a leg. The bar was at the opposite end of the room, lined with stools. Bottles of liquor decorated the wall behind it.
Garran arrived an hour later, after the sun had set, looking like his cheery self with a nice frown plastered to his face. "We're no' here to have fun," Garran grumbled as he pulled out a chair and sat down.
Isabella couldn't help but notice every woman turned to stare at Garran as he strolled in with an air of confidence. Talk about turning heads. It was as if he were a delicious treat and they all wanted a taste.
She gave Garran a sidelong glance. Strong and formidable were the words which came to mind first for her. She'd bet he intimidated men before he became a Grim Sith, but she supposed he was a head-turner, if one liked tall, muscular, brooding vampires with attitude.
She rolled her eyes. She'd pass. Not that he was biting. She almost laughed at the pun, but somehow managed to stop her lips from curling. Yeah, relationships were difficult enough without adding 'not human' into the mix.
"We have to blend in," Harrison said as he waved down a waitress. "Name your poison." He looked at Isabella.
"Chenin blanc." She didn't really drink, other than wine occasionally. She had an apple martini on her twenty-first birthday, but it was too sweet for her taste.
"Garran?" Harrison asked.
"Rum and Coke."
Isabella lifted a brow. "You can drink other things? You know, other than… blood," she whispered the last.
"Don't believe everythin' ye've heard about vampires, Miss Lucci."
"I take that as a yes." She sat back and glanced at who frequented Siren's Call. "If I'm getting this aura thing down, there are two werewolves at the back table near the bar, and the rest look like they're human."
Harrison confirmed her suspicions. "The werewolves are Todd Banning and Marissa Tanner."
"Friends of yours?" Isabella asked.
"Not really, but we've been introduced. They're from a different clan."
A different clan? She never thought werewolves and vampires had differences where they warranted different septs and packs. Her knowledge consisted of werewolves were hideous monsters, and vampires seduced and drank human blood. She obviously had a lot to learn.
The drinks arrived and they waited until the waitress moved on to another table before they spoke again.
"So what do we do now?" Isabella sipped her wine. It wasn't bad. At least it hadn't been watered down.
"We wait," Garran reached for his glass.
"Can you eat food, too?" Isabella asked Garran.
His glass paused at his lips before he took a generous swallow. He placed the drink down and threw her a withering glare. She supposed this was to shut her up.
Isabella ignored it. She didn't care if she pushed his buttons. The guy… vampire had a huge chip on his shoulder and she refused to be bullied by him. "Well?" She wanted an answer. Two could play the game of staring down the other. She had an older brother. She knew how to hold her own.
Garran's eyes narrowed. "I enjoy a rare steak now and again." He lifted his glass. "Does this satisfy yer curiosity?" He brought his glass to his lips again.
"When do you drink blood?"
He choked on his drink, but quickly recovered. He put the glass back down and leveled his gaze on her. One, she was sure should make her quake in her seat, but she didn't scare so easily.
Harrison chuckled. "She's curious, Garran."
"When I first awake," Garran's voice was a low hum of control, "along with my coffee and newspaper."
"You eat newspapers?"
He was about to give her a nasty retort when she grinned at him.
"Gotcha." Her chuckle only made his scowl deepen, but she ignored the warning signals to back down. "Is it human blood?
"Miss Lucci—"
"What? I believe I have the right to know if you'll be sniffing around my neck."
His nostrils flared and his eyes glowed red, making his gray eyes look almost violet. "Strictly pig's blood now, but…" For his next words, he leaned closer to her. His breath was warm against her cheek, sending a thrill down her spine to only run cold with his next response. "I occa
sionally give into the demon and suck annoyin' humans dry."
She gulped and sat back in her seat. Maybe teasing a vampire wasn't such a good idea.
Garran turned his attention toward the stage where a man sang a horrible rendition of the Beatles' song, Yesterday.
Garran's sour attitude pretty much put a damper on the evening's conversation. As the night wore on, the place became packed with people out to have a good time. No one seemed to care if someone sang off tune, as long as they were having fun.
Sure, it could be the alcohol consumption talking, but she didn't care. As pathetic as it may be, she hadn't been out on the town for a long time. Work, then home, then back to work again. She really did lead a boring life.
"Are you payin' attention?" Garran's voice implied he didn't think she was.
His attitude rubbed her all kinds of wrong. So, he didn't like humans. If he was the example of vampire behavior, she didn't care for his kind either. "Yes, Mr. Son of Dracula, but it's becoming difficult to see everyone. It's crowded now, if you haven't noticed."
Garran scanned the room as if looking for a better position. Without a word, he stood and strode over to the man who took requests for the karaoke machine.
"What is he doing?" Isabella leaned over to ask Harrison.
"Uh… I hope you can sing."
"Oh, no. I'm not going up on stage." She rose from her seat with the intent to hide out in the bathroom until Garran came to his senses, but it was already too late.
They announced her name, giving her no choice since the spotlight landed on her.
"It'll be all right," Harrison assured her. "Half the people are too drunk to even notice you sing."
"Yeah, right," she grumbled and headed toward the stage. As she passed by Garran, she decided on just the right cure to wipe the smug look off his face. She took the mike out of the holder. "I need my partner up here."
Garran whipped around to glare at her. He held up his hand and shook his head, giving his best I'll-kill-you stare.
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