“Red,” Lucas said with a nod to the opening back door of the Indian restaurant.
She stood and walked away toward the door to Quinn Investigations.
A stream of waiters, cooks, and dishwashers left the restaurant, chattering with varying degrees of excitement, worry, and annoyance as they pointed at the crime scene.
“That was useless. All the real clues are wherever she was drained, not where she was dropped.” Lucas opened the office door for her.
“Dropping her here was a clue.” Red walked into the darkened hallway shared with other offices. “Come on. Until Quinn gets back with the name of the victim, we don’t have much to do besides look over the old files. Whoever is building that little army in the Valley has to have been at it for a while. Those minions might be new, but not that new.”
“Don’t you think you should get some shut-eye?”
“I’d just toss and turn. Might as well get on with it. You two need another set of hands around here.” She needed to keep moving. It was the silence that made her thoughts race too loudly in her ears. This case had gotten to her. She wasn’t ready to psychoanalyze why she saw herself in Julia Crispin, mourned Olivia Greene, or felt guilt over gossipy Carrie Baldwin. Red stepped into Quinn Investigations as Lucas turned on the lights. It looked cleaner than before, but she knew the file cabinets hid chaos.
“Then let me at least make you coffee,” Lucas offered.
“I’d love one, but I gotta ask. Are we on the same page about where I stand on this team? I get that Delilah freaked you both out earlier, but you and Quinn can’t buddy cop your way out of this alone.” Red resisted rolling her eyes.
She knew his protectiveness didn’t come from a bad place. She could forgive it, but she couldn’t forget it when she had a job to do. Playing hot and cold, holding back intel, they couldn’t solve this case unless they worked together.
“I’m still a hunter. Well, like an apprentice, but still. Did you try to keep Vic out of the hunt when he was Quinn’s intern? I highly doubt you play rugged defender for all of your hunter buddies.” She bit her lip, realizing she was rambling. “I get that I look like her, but I’m still me.”
Lucas pulled his hand out of his pocket and ran his fingers through his dark hair as he shook his head tightly. His grey eyes filled with guilt. “I try not to see her when I look at you, but I do.”
“There’s a lot of baggage that comes with this face, but we have a case. You have to focus on what’s good for the case. It's not about me.”
“It is for me.” Lucas sighed and cocked his head at her. “With Kristoff in the picture, I can’t think. I hadn’t wanted to turn her. I kept kicking that can down the road for years. Then it all changed the night she died. I was given a choice: turn her and take her away or… well, it wasn’t much of a choice. It wasn’t me she’d been running from all those years. It was her past. Kept it close to the chest, but it was bad. In my own twisted way, I thought I could keep her safe, so I did what I did. I failed, and she died. Now you know the rest of the story. It’s my business to deal with the fallout. Not see you get consumed by it.” Lucas gritted his teeth and looked away. “That is my rutting problem. Me. It’s not you. I know what you can do.”
“Lucas…”
“How about that coffee?” Lucas put his hands in his pockets and shifted back on his heels. His voice rougher from emotion. “Sugar or no?”
“Sugar.” Watching him disappear into Quinn’s private office to go into the apartment below, she said to herself, “Thanks for being honest.”
Red found file boxes peeking out from behind the front desk. She sat down in the chair and reached into the file box, pulling up files to discover CD-ROMs and floppy disks. The modern computer at the desk didn’t have a floppy drive, naturally, but she popped the first disc into the drive.
Her phone vibrated, and she pulled it out to see a text message from Kristoff. She opened it open to see a short video. She unmuted it and turned the volume down low.
Kristoff grinned and panned the camera to show a part of Club Vltava she hadn’t seen before, revealing a stage. Michel and Delilah took the stage with smiles and waves. Kristoff panned back to himself. “Consider this another alibi for tonight.”
The video ended, and Red put the phone back in her pocket. She shook her head. This is what she got for giving a vampire her number. Vampires couldn’t appear in a mirror, but videos and photos were fair game. She’d heard a rumor that it was a vampire who took the first selfie.
Red put away her thoughts to keep sifting through the disks and CDs in the box. Most of the CDs were empty, but a few had files on them. Sipping at the coffee Lucas brought her, she set the non-empty CDs aside in a pile. She was putting another CD in the computer when the door opened.
“You blew up my phone, but you couldn’t wake me?” Vic called out as he stepped into the office. His black mullet lay tufted and tousled on his shoulders. His denim vest lay inside out on his shoulders.
Lucas chuckled. “You needed your beauty rest.”
“Shove it, Greg.” Vic stepped over to the desk and sat down next to the computer. “Is it just me, or has it been a long night?”
“You slept through most of it, but yeah.” Red filled him in on what he’d missed. “There wasn’t much in the parking lot to begin with, but the tech swept it clean, so I figured we might as well look for signs of the rogue master in their old files. You’re at the portion of the evening where I’ve found more of Lucas’s old playlists than evidence.”
“Is that what you have in there?” Vic leaned over to click on a folder. “I wonder if we’ll just find a bunch of Billy Idol and the Sex Pistols, or if he’ll have some real punk like Bad Brains.”
“Just a video.” Red clicked a file. “The last one was of Quinn blinking and dropping the camera.”
The video opened on a familiar curb in the Fashion District downtown. Olivia Greene lay sprawled on the sidewalk. A blonde in a cocktail dress stepped into view. She looked around, showing her classic profile—Delilah. Stepping over to the body, she picked up the dead weight easily before she disappeared with vampire speed. The video ended.
“What the hell?” Vic’s face went through the stages of grief, stopping at confusion. “That was Delilah moving one of our victims. Why does Quinn have this?”
Red looked at Lucas. “Did you know about this?”
“I don’t even know what you’re seeing.” Lucas appeared behind them and leaned over Red’s shoulder to play the video again. “Bugger.”
Vic stepped away, confused horror turning to anger on his face. “He didn’t offer me his couch… Goddamnit!”
Red twirled around in the office chair. “Easy, Vic.”
The office door opened, and Quinn stepped in. His face showed that he had overheard. He raised his hands. “Vic, I can explain.”
“Do tell. I’d like to hear how you’ve been using me to help cover up for your ex-wife. Add some legitimacy by bringing a Bard in, huh? Throw us at some rogue minions and have something to distract Cora with.” Vic paced in front of the desk. “I’m seeing it all clear now. Fucking crystal.”
Lucas stepped behind Vic. “Come on, lads.”
“Delilah didn’t do it. The body was planted on her building’s doorstep. She brought me in to find out who was targeting her. There have been murders of old members of the Alaric Order for years. She was scared.” Quinn sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “She didn’t want anyone to know, but I knew you might see something I couldn’t.”
Red crossed her arms and looked away. Right now, Vic’s aura radiated with enough betrayal that even her busted third eye could see it. She didn’t want to add fuel to Vic’s fire by sharing a skeptical glance.
She had given Vic the cliff notes version of her interrogation with Kristoff Novak in a text message. Her mind echoed with one of his answers. When Kristoff found Julia Crispin dead behind his club, he informed his master in Portland, the Supreme Master of Los Angeles, and the LAPD, in
that order. Why didn’t Delilah call Cora, if they were yoga buddies?
“Don’t flatter me, Quinn. And don’t lie to me.” Vic shook his head and folded his arms. “I came when you called, and this is what I get? A fuck it bucket of lies. You’re hiding evidence! How much of this case have you been manipulating? You didn’t tell us about the Alaric symbols on the victims, and now you’re hiding surveillance footage.”
“I didn’t hide any tapes. I didn’t even know there was a tape.”
“A tape? What is this 1995?” Vic barked out a dry laugh. “I can’t believe anything you say. Not when it comes to Delilah.”
“You don’t know her.”
“Never wanted too, Quinn.” Vic gestured around. “I don’t need to know her to guess what she’s up to. She’s playing both sides. She’s building up her street cred with her new boyfriend and the other Bloodliners with a killing spree. Dealing with uppity models trying to leave their contracts was a bonus. She never could go to long without twisting your head up, so why not bring you into the game?” He pointed at Quinn. “Delilah is playing you.”
“Maybe she thinks she’s protecting you.” Red furrowed her brow, trying to keep her voice light to balance out Vic’s booming indignation.
The evidence was there. If Vic wanted to walk out with it, then he needed to play it cool despite the bromance broken heart. She ejected the CD and put it in a sleeve before putting it under her shirt and standing.
“Quinn is her progeny, and Lucas and Kristoff are part of her line. By leaving bodies at each of your lairs, maybe she’s trying to show that you guys are on their side too.”
Vic snapped his fingers. “Exactly. She is showing that the Alaric Order is still around. You’re dancing to her tune.”
“You’re talking about things you don’t know anything about,” Quinn said, clenching his fists before catching himself and crossing his arms.
Vic’s eyes bored into his friend, his voice rising. “I’ve read what the Brotherhood has on you two. Spain, 1700s, you two liked to carve up villagers leaving an ouroboros behind like fucked up graffiti. Delilah’s at it again!”
Red stood up to step between Quinn and Vic. “Everyone relax. Shouting at each other isn’t helping.”
“We won’t find any help here, Red.” Vic shook his head. “Let’s go.”
Red looked at Lucas. “Can you swear to me that you didn’t suspect it was Delilah or that Quinn might cover for her?”
Lucas looked away, hands in his pockets. “I—” He licked his lips and stilled. “I didn’t know.”
“But you’re not surprised.” Red shook her head and followed Vic to the door.
“You were my Batman.” Vic hunched his shoulders and stomped out into the hallway.
The night hadn’t just been long, it had turned the case upside down. If someone had told her that Kristoff would be the only vampire to be honest with her tonight, she would have laughed. She kept thinking that the soulmancer’s spell to give a vampire back its empathy, conscience, and all those elements that made up a human soul made them completely good.
It didn’t. It just gave them the choice to be good.
Humans had souls and could still be tempted into evil by money, greed, revenge, and love. Vampires were no different.
Quinn had been pulled in by love. What about Delilah?
Chapter Sixteen
October 30th, Afternoon, Le Retro Diner, Hollywood, Los Angeles, California
Red poured maple syrup in the shape of a smiley face on the pancakes, then set down the syrup and turned the plate around to face Vic. “Look I’m a brunch zombie, I’m going to eat this face.”
She turned the plate pretending to speak for the pancakes in a squeaky voice. “Save me!”
Red took a bite dramatically.
Staring into the distance, forehead wrinkled in forlorn contemplation, Vic Constantine was head to the world.
Red shot him a deadpan stare. “There is a life on the line, Vic.”
Stirred from zoning out the window, Vic glanced at the ravaged pancakes. “Welcome to the real world, kid.”
She waved at him. “Good morning, sunshine. Thanks for joining me at brunch.”
Loud chatter filtered in around them from the other booths at the diner as quiet pop hits played in the background. The happiness of a late brunch crowded surrounded them. He had been quiet after they left Quinn’s office and catatonic when he woke up. It had taken all her charm to get him out to the diner after noon.
She tried to smile. “Your pancakes are going to get cold.”
“Pancakes.” Vic shoved a forkful from his own plate into his mouth. “Should have gotten waffles.”
“Ugh, say it again, Vic, with less food in your mouth.”
“I’m just questioning all my decisions. I should have gotten waffles. I should have gotten an Impala instead of a van. What if I had decided to take more comp sci classes instead of ditching to play sidekick to Quinn? I could’ve invented Snapchat.”
“That’s a leap.” Red raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, you’re right. It would have been a shady cryptocurrency startup.” Vic chewed on his dry pancake sadly.
“At least put some more syrup on it. This is how I know you’re not okay.” Red picked up the syrup and flooded the plate like he usually took his pancakes. “Alright. It's not good, I know. You’ve got serious trust issues with your shadowy mentor. We’re on our own with this case now, but the good news is I think Quinn is doing this out of love. Not malice. I don’t think he’s turned bad.”
“He is a professional Captain Save-A-Ho, and she is the original Ho.” Vic grumbled.
“So? We have proof she had direct contact with the body, that she felt like it was targeted at her, and that she wanted to keep it quiet. Maybe she didn’t kill Olivia.” Red said it with a straight face, pushing her own doubts away.
Vic swallowed his mouthful of pancake in a pained gulp. “Or she got some chump to do it.”
“Obviously, she knows something. We have to make sure we get the right vampire. Remember, the Brotherhood has a truce with Cora so her souled vampires are off limits. Delilah is still one of those.” Red shrugged. “If this is deep state stuff, then Cora will want first crack at Delilah.”
“That Jezebel still has Quinn’s balls in a jar.”
“Ew. Let’s not fixate on Quinn’s balls.” Red looked down at her breakfast sausage and grimaced with distaste, pushing it away with her fork before looking at Vic again. “You’re really hurting over this.”
“Don’t go pop psychologist on me and ask me about my Dad or Henry.”
Red looked away at the mention of Vic’s adopted father. Freud would have had a field day with Vic’s daddy issues, but it wasn’t her place to point out the obvious. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know. The facts are that I trusted Quinn, then I got my arm broken and had my intern claimed by a vampire for my troubles. All while he knows more about the fucking case than I do.”
“Fat Crispin wants to kill the vampire who murdered his daughter. Himself. You have a lot of good reasons to be mad at Quinn, but are you mad enough to stake the love of his unlife without being one hundred percent certain?”
“She not the love of his unlife, Nora Roberts.” Vic mumbled around a mouthful of pancakes. “This isn’t Twilight.”
Red rolled her eyes. “I’m going to ignore the fact that you think Nora Roberts wrote Twilight. I’m just saying, she’s been the love of most of his unlife. We need to be careful.”
“We need to bring her in.”
“We need to see what’s on the rest of the video. Or find out what happened that night. Before we call in the Brotherhood, we need to know more. Our only real ally here is Cora, and we won’t win any favors from her by ruining her big party or killing her bestie.” She pointed her fork at him. “Delilah is a 400-year-old vampire, remember?”
“She is probably the rogue master. We could call in Cora and have a vampire SWAT team to help us collect t
he bounty.”
“Come on. Stop acting like you’re Paul McCartney and she’s Yoko. You’re eating pancakes. You can’t talk about offing your buddy’s ex-wife over pancakes.”
“Still a free country.” Vic pouted. It looked ridiculous on a man who hunted werewolves and other monsters for a living.
“Not for that,” Red said. “The Halloween Ball is tomorrow. We know Delilah might hide out, but she has to go. Cora is making it mandatory for the LA vampires. I can pull her aside and question her, try to get something out of her. Put a camera on me or something, I don’t know, but give it a day.”
A Witch Called Red: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 1) Page 20
