Griffin smiled slightly and lifted the basket. "Lissa's different," he said.
Chapter 10
We made our way west of the Mississippi, landing in Kansas City just after nightfall. Winkler was rubbing my neck when I woke on the jet and handing my unit of blood to me when my eyes unglued. Winkler has a great smile, no doubt about that. Weldon also informed us on the way to our hotel that he was changing plans a little—going to the west coast next which meant Oregon and California. Then he intended to swing back through Arizona and New Mexico, before doing Colorado last of all. He'd fly to North Dakota after Denver, and I'd be on the Council's jet back to England. The changes were fine with me. I'd never been to Oregon before and I was looking forward to it. Weldon had a confirmation and a wedding there.
Kansas City had to be taken care of first, however. The new Packmaster in the Kansas City area lived in Overland Park and we went to dinner not far from a Barnes and Noble in Leawood. Winkler knew I wanted to go; I'd given a little moan of desire when we'd passed it while driving to the restaurant. I also had a whopping huge gift card in my purse for Barnes and Noble—my Christmas gift from Winkler. Honestly, no disrespect to Gavin or anything, but the way to my heart might lie through a bookstore.
Weldon and Winkler had coffee in the café at the bookstore and Kelvin walked around outside while I shopped. That told me right then he hadn't been reading any of the books I'd loaned him. If you read and you're next to a bookstore, you're going to look. It can't be helped. Since I didn't want to donate any more to Kelvin than I could get away with, I only bought three books and Weldon and Winkler were happy to leave. Kelvin was snapping his cell phone shut when we walked out the door.
Weldon confirmed the Packmaster in Overland Park the following evening and then we flew to Wichita. This was where Lester Briggs' biggest supporter, Bart Orford, had been Packmaster. My skin itched the moment Winkler unzipped my body bag on the jet that night.
"Winkler," I grabbed his arm and practically hauled him off the jet. Desperate to find a spot where we could talk without being overheard, I walked as far away from the plane as I could, dragging him along. "There's something going on here, I just feel it," I whispered.
"Lissa, we know this was Bart's Pack," Winkler attempted to soothe me.
"I know that too, Winkler, but I have a really bad feeling about this." How else could I tell him? I just had a feeling. This was almost like standing in front of the Council, telling them how I felt when Weldon was walking into a trap. Well, running as a werewolf into a trap might be a better description.
"How are your pilot and co-pilot on protection?" I asked. They were werewolves too; I just didn't know what they could do as far as guarding or fighting went.
"You think we need them?" Winkler was running hands through his hair.
"Yeah. Feel free to make fun of me all you want if nothing happens, Winkler. But I'm telling you, my skin is crawling."
"Lissa, I don't think Weldon will pull these guys away from their job," Winkler sighed. "Just be on guard, all right? We'll get through this." He put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a lop-sided grin.
"Winkler, I sure as hell hope you're right," I said as we walked back to the jet.
We made it through dinner with the Packmaster. It was a little boring, to be honest. I was beginning to think Winkler was right and I was only jumping at shadows as I sat on the sofa in Weldon's suite later. The Grand Master snored softly in his bed only a few feet away. One of my new novels was in my hand and I was reading when I heard footsteps walking down the hallway outside. People come and go inside hotels all the time, but it was three in the morning so I set my book aside, just in case. Winkler's connecting door was open, too. He usually left it that way. Truthfully, I expected the footsteps to walk right past on their way to another room on the same floor. They didn't. What shocked me most was the knock on the door with the accompanying, "Police. Open up."
"Fuck," I muttered, tossing my book aside. Weldon was out of the bed like a shot as was Winkler next door. They were both pulling pants on while Weldon told me to answer the door and to be careful when I did it.
There were two officers standing outside, their guns drawn when I pulled the door open. "Is there a problem?" I asked, shivering a little. I had no idea what was going on. I'd been shot before and survived it, but had no idea how badly Winkler or Weldon might be wounded if they were hit. How did werewolves react to gunshot wounds? Were silver bullets required, like in the movies? I had no idea. Compulsion also came to mind, but if these guys had been sent to our room for a reason, then more would come.
"Back up, put your hands against the wall there and spread 'em," the officers still had their guns trained on me.
"What's the meaning of this?" Weldon was behind me now and Winkler was right behind him.
"You're all under arrest," the second officer said. "On suspicion of murder."
"You will tell me now just exactly why you think we murdered someone," I placed compulsion, then. No way was I going to stand there and let them put their hands all over us. We hadn't done anything. Not in the last couple of weeks, anyway, and these were Wichita cops. "And put those guns down, too."
Both cops lowered their weapons. "There are two dead hotel employees downstairs and somebody placed a phone call saying you three did it," one of the officers said.
"We didn't do it, we've been asleep," Winkler asserted. "Besides, what proof do you have?"
"We have the murder weapons," the other officer said.
"You'll not find our fingerprints on them," Weldon scoffed.
"Oh, lord," I muttered. "How quickly will somebody else be up here to check on you two?" I asked the officers, placing yet another compulsion for them to answer my questions only with the truth.
"About five minutes," one said. We had a dark haired officer and a nearly bald officer. Baldy was the one who spoke.
"Winkler, get on your cell phone," I ordered, thinking as fast as I could. "Call Tony Hancock. Now. If you don't have a direct number, I do." I still remembered the number he'd given me; it wasn't the one on his card. Somehow, I knew he'd answer the one I had when he might not answer anything else.
"Here," Winkler handed the cell phone over to me. I dialed as fast as I could.
"Winkler, what the hell do you want and how did you get this number?" It was an hour later on the east coast but still too early to be calling anyone. Tony's voice was rough from being wakened from a sound sleep.
"Tony, it's not Winkler." I knew he'd recognize my voice.
"Lissa? Lissa, where have you been?" Tony was wide-awake now.
"Tony, I don't have time to chat. We've got real trouble here. I'm in Wichita, Kansas right now and somebody is trying to frame me, Winkler and another man. Tony, I only figured out recently that they've been collecting our fingerprints and now the cops are here, telling us that somebody was murdered in our hotel and they have the murder weapons. I'm giving good odds right now on whose fingerprints will show up on whatever it was they used to kill those people."
"Lissa, which hotel?" Tony was up and getting dressed, I could hear that plainly.
"The Saint James," I told him. "I only have a minute or two before more cops show up. They'll arrest Winkler and someone named Weldon Harper, Tony."
"Is there some way I can get in touch with you?" Tony asked. I gave him my cell number. "Got it," he said.
"Call me during night hours only," I said and hung up.
"Weldon, your little shithead Kelvin has been collecting our fingerprints," I said, turning to mist. "I'm sorry but I can't go to jail with you guys. For obvious reasons. I'll take the blood and my phone charger with me." Weldon and Winkler both nodded so I waited until I was nearly mist to take my present compulsion off the cops and to place a new one: "You never saw me, I wasn't here," I said and disappeared.
Winkler and Weldon both growled but allowed the cops to search and handcuff them. I'd given Winkler's cell phone back to him before changing and they took that.
The cooler of blood was now with me, along with my purse and cell phone charger. At the last minute, I floated into Winkler's room and pulled out the envelope of cash I'd stuffed inside my suitcase, turning my laptop case to mist along with it. I waited until the werewolves were herded toward the elevator before I left as well; the forensics team had shown up, ready to take our hotel rooms apart. Misting inside Kelvin's room, I found that the little shit had left, taking his bags and other belongings with him. It was probably a good thing, too—the cops would've had a third murder on their hands if I'd found him.
Compulsion is a wonderful thing. It got me a room at a nearby hotel with cash, no credit card and an assumed name. Once inside the room I called Merrill in New York and brought him up to speed. It was too late to call Wlodek or Charles; it was day in Great Britain and they'd be sleeping. It was nearly daylight in New York, too, so I had to hurry and give Merrill the information I had. Charles got an email as well—a rather lengthy one, as I explained the current situation with Winkler, the Grand Master and me. I also called the hotel desk clerk, informed him that I was a day sleeper and hung the Do Not Disturb sign on my door. No sense in tempting fate any more than I had to. The last thing I did was call Davis. Thankfully, he kept his cell phone by his bed so I told him what was happening. He said he'd have Winkler's lawyers out in force in no time and he would be on the next flight up. I thanked him, told him to call if he needed something and barely ended the call before I conked out with the sunrise.
* * *
"Lissa?" It was Merrill's voice on my cell. He'd been trying to get me to wake for several minutes already.
"Merrill?" My voice and my head were still thick with sleep.
"Lissa, sweetheart, we have a safe house set up for you. There are two vampires on their way to escort you there," he said. "Get your things together. Is there any incriminating evidence inside the other hotel room? Anything that might raise suspicions?" He was asking if anything would point to my being vampire.
"No, I don't think so. I got the blood and my laptop out."
"Thank goodness." Merrill heaved a sigh of relief.
"I don't have any clothes, though, other than what I'm wearing," I said.
"I understand. The two who are coming will help with that."
"Do you know who they are?"
"No. This is someone that Charles and Wlodek were able to get. They just happened to be in the area. They're not local."
"All right," I said. It didn't matter, I'd know by their scent they were vampires.
"Lissa, Wlodek notified Gavin. He may be calling."
"Merrill, you know he's only going to yell," I muttered. Of course, Merrill heard.
"I know." Merrill didn't sound happy about it either.
"Tell Franklin I'm okay for now," I said. I didn't want him worrying.
"I may have to lay compulsion on my human child and I don't like doing that," Merrill said.
"Don't let him fret," I said. "Tell him I love him."
"I will." Merrill hung up.
I had to break the lock on the cooler, since Winkler still had the key. I had just drunk my blood and placed the portion I couldn't finish back inside when the knock came on my hotel room door. Answering cautiously, I was relieved to find two vampires standing there. One was at least six-six with white-blond hair cut short; the other was around six feet or so with darker hair.
"Dalroy," the white-haired one introduced himself. He had a slight Texas accent. "This is Rhett," he nodded at the other vampire. I shook hands with both of them; they didn't seem to mind. Rhett took the cooler while Dalroy grabbed my laptop. All I had to carry was my purse; the envelope of cash was now inside my laptop case.
They had a rental waiting outside for us and I caught up with them after checking out of my room. More compulsion was necessary, of course. I crawled into the back seat of the Cadillac they had, breathing out a relieved sigh. "We hear this could turn into a right mess," Dalroy said over the back of the passenger seat. Rhett was driving and nodding his agreement to Dalroy's words.
"You don't know the half of it," I muttered angrily. "Any word on Winkler and the Grand Master?"
"We've only been up a little while ourselves. We were intending to check the newscasts and the online stuff when we get back to the safe house. Don't worry; we'll get you out of here safely if we have to." Dalroy gave me an encouraging smile.
"I don't intend to leave until Winkler and Weldon are free and cleared of charges," I said.
"The Council might disagree with you on that," Dalroy pointed out. "Personally, I'm with you. Somebody is behind this, I think, and they want to take werewolves and vampires down. Or at least expose all of us," he added grimly.
"Yeah," I said. "I get that idea, too." Dalroy had a ruggedly handsome face but looked as if he'd seen a lot of life, both human and vampire. He smelled about the same age as Charles, though. Rhett was a little younger than Dalroy and I knew by the scent that Dalroy had made him. There was enough of a difference in their ages, though, that I knew Dalroy hadn't broken any rules to make his vampire child.
We pulled up to the safe house after half an hour of driving, and Rhett and Dalroy carried my things inside. Rhett offered to go out and buy clothing for me so I handed over a list. "Are you sure this isn't going to embarrass you?" I asked. There were bras and underwear on the list.
"I'll be okay," he grinned and took off. He'd been gone an hour and a half when my phone rang.
"Lissa, this is Tony," he said. At first, I thought it might be Gavin calling but the number was unfamiliar and the ID was blocked.
"Tony, how are you?" I asked brightly. It was nice to hear his voice.
"Lissa, I'm fine. Actually, I'm on a plane headed your way," he said. "We'll be landing in about half an hour. Is there someplace I can meet with you?"
"Tony, why are you using your cell phone when the common herd gets slapped on the head if we even look at our cell phones on a commercial flight?"
That made him laugh. "I'm special," he replied.
"Honey, we all think we're special. That doesn't mean we get to use our phones on airplanes." I know, I was teasing him and I was smiling while I did it.
"Now Lissa, stop beating around the bush and tell me where I can find you."
"There's a Barnes and Noble on Rock Road," I said. I'd scoped it out on my computer the night before. One of the books I bought in Overland Park was the first in a series and now I wanted the others.
"That's good enough," he said. "Don't keep me waiting." He hung up.
"Who was that?" Dalroy asked.
"Dalroy, it's better if you don't know," I said. "I need to meet this guy alone. He doesn't need to see me with you or Rhett. I'm just trying to get Winkler and the Grand Master out of this the best way I can. If you have to report this to Wlodek, go ahead. He may lift my head from my shoulders as a result but this is what I know to do."
"You don't know much about how the Council looks at the American vamps, do you?" Dalroy asked softly. "We're upstarts to them. None of us old enough to know anything. I'm surprised they thought to contact Rhett and me, instead of flying their own bunch in here. If you don't have a foreign accent, you're too young to have any sense at all. There's not a single American on the Council and no American Enforcers."
"Yeah, I get that too," I grumbled. That's exactly how Gavin treated me most of the time.
"So, how long have you been vampire?" he asked.
"Just a little over a year," I said.
"And they're sending you out to do this?" Dalroy didn't know what to think.
"I'm a mister," I said. "And I can mindspeak." That caught Dalroy's attention.
"That how you got out of the hotel without anybody seeing you?" There was a light in his eyes.
"Yeah. That's how I got out." Rhett walked in carrying bags of clothing. I could have kissed him. I took the fastest shower I could, dressed in jeans that had been pre-washed while I silently thanked Rhett, a top that wasn't too bad, my athletic shoes (I had
n't asked him to buy shoes), and borrowed the keys to the Cadillac. Dalroy said they'd see about getting a second car when I walked out the door.
The Barnes and Noble wasn't far from the safe house and I was only ten minutes late to meet Tony. He was sitting in the café, having a latte and flipping through a magazine.
"Lissa," his eyes and his kiss were both warm when he stood and greeted me. We sat down. "Winkler's lawyers are as busy as ants, right now," he said, first thing. "I spoke with Winkler this afternoon and the FBI is talking to the local authorities. We know neither he nor the other man are involved in this, Lissa. We have camera footage, showing who actually did commit the murders. What we're trying to figure out now is how they got the fingerprints all over the guns."
"They used more than one? Why?" I couldn't believe this.
"No idea; both employees were killed in the same room. But one set of fingerprints was on each weapon—one belonging to the Harper man, the other to you, Lissa."
"Tony, I didn't kill those people."
"I know you didn't, Lissa." He reached over and took my hand in his. "Unfortunately, the local authorities ran both sets of fingerprints through the nationwide databases. They got a hit on yours, Lissa. Care to tell me how you're here instead of in Oklahoma City where they reported you missing over a year ago? Also how you manage to look like you do now instead of like the photographs I was given?" He took his hand away and drew a copy of the photo they'd used for my ID badge at the courthouse from his jacket pocket. That's where they'd gotten my fingerprint records, too; the courthouse fingerprinted all the employees and the records were kept in a database by the Sheriff's department. Fuck.
My skin was quivering so badly, I didn't know what to do. I twisted my fingers together to keep Tony from seeing how much they were shaking. "Tony, all I'm asking is for you to get Winkler and Weldon out of this mess," I begged. "And then let me walk away from you tomorrow morning, right at daybreak. I promise you won't have to worry about me past that." My eyes met his and I was pleading silently with him to do this. I could have placed compulsion, but without a doubt, there was back-up for Tony somewhere. In fact there was probably a crowd of people there at the bookstore, waiting for big, bad Lissa to do something untoward and they'd come blasting their way in, guns blazing.
Blood Passage (Blood Destiny #2) Page 18
