by Ann Denton
We ride the elevator in silence, and I’m suddenly aware of how bad I smell. I’m still in my ripped clothes from last night.
Bennett ushers me down a hallway, into a room I don’t recognize until I’m seated. Then I see the two-way glass. Shit. I’m in an interrogation room.
“Tell me about what happened last night.”
“You tell me why I’m here.”
Bennett just stares.
“I dunno. I stroked out or something. Woke up here.”
“Did you see the victim at all?”
“Victim? What victim?”
My heart rate picks up. I mean, I know I was tossed in jail. But for what? Best I could come up with was trespassing or violating some kind of construction safety code. What do they think I did?
“Georgina Knight was murdered.”
I stand, knocking my chair back. It falls to the floor with a dull thunk. “What?!”
The memories flood back. I saw her. My head hurt like a mother. That’s it. Shit. They think I killed her?
“I got knocked out.” My hand reaches toward the back of my head. Yeah, that’s got to be dried blood.
Bennett stands and rights my chair for me. He helps ease me back into it. Normally, I’d protest, but right now I’m so in shock. I can’t even …
“Why don’t you back up a bit. We got statements from others that you were at Saffron Watts’ campaign meeting.”
I give him the play by play of the night after he returns to his seat. When I get to choking on a jellybean, Bennett rubs a hand over his face and groans.
“That’s what happened? Why did you freak out if he was saving you?”
“Because I don’t let vampires touch me,” I snap.
“Damnit. I thought he was attacking you.”
“Why were you following me anyway?”
“I wasn’t.”
Oh, that pisses me off. First, he shows up my work. Then he follows me around like a crazy person. Now, he’s locked me up and is accusing me of murder?
“Yes. You are exhibiting stalker-like tendencies. You got a job at my office. Followed me down to a misdemeanor courtroom. Followed me to that campaign meeting. Then locked me up. You are acting way more like a murderer than I am.”
That pisses Bennett off. He leans forward and bares his teeth. “I wasn’t following you, idiot. I was following Luke Hawkins.”
My jaw drops. “Why?”
Bennett shakes his head and drops back into his seat. “You need to finish telling me about your night.”
“You need to prove you’re not a stalker and that you have some kind of grounds for this arrest.”
“You were the last person to see Georgina Knight alive.”
“So? I was the last person to see my grandma alive, too. Doesn’t make me a murderer.”
“Eighty-five percent of murderers are found next to the body.”
“Eighty-five percent of murders are committed by trolls,” I shoot back.
Bennett sighs. “I’m gonna get coffee. You want coffee?”
This sounds like a peace offering. Or maybe he’s giving me a minute to cool off because I’m worked up. I mean, me, a murderer? The thought makes me see red. Whew. I do need to calm down. Murderers get defensive, right? I shouldn’t get offended. It will make me look defensive. And I didn’t do anything.
“Coffee’s great. Thanks.”
“Four sugars and milk?”
He remembers how I take my coffee? We haven’t gone out for like two years. Any other day, I might be impressed. Today, I just wave him away.
Arnold slips into the interrogation room while Bennett’s getting coffee. He’s wearing pants at least. But he’s also wearing a shit-eating grin. “It’s my sad duty to inform you that you’ll be put on administrative leave for the duration of this investigation.”
My heart sinks. Another little piece of poo to add to the shit-storm. No, turd-tornado. No, stool tsunami. My mind has officially entered meltdown. This is real. I, Lyon Fox, have been arrested for murder. And I’m about to lose my job.
Arnold starts to walk out.
“Wait. Is that paid administrative leave?”
Arnold turns back, his grin even wider. “That all depends on the outcome of the investigation.”
Awesome.
Bennett returns with coffee as I’m fighting off tears.
“I didn’t do this,” I state flatly. I recite the rest of my night for him, ending with how I saw Georgina and then felt something split my head in two. Bennett comes around and inspects the back of my head. He sees the crusted blood and uses his phone to start taking pictures.
“I’m gonna part your hair okay?” His fingers dig into what’s become a nest of snarls. I don’t protest. I let him. Because I want to prove I’m not a murderer.
Bennett’s finger traces a line up and down my scalp. “There’s a fresh scar here. Healing quickly though. Can you hold your hair apart while I take pictures?”
I comply, pulling my hair tight.
Bennett finishes and taps my head to let me know he’s done. “Just a sec. I’ll be right back.”
He walks out and I’m left wondering if the scar on my head is enough proof to convince the powers that be that I’m just a victim here. Because I am. How could they even think it was me?
Bennett’s back in the room in under a minute. “Okay, I sent Bella out to nose around the crime scene. She’s gonna look for whatever was used to knock you out.”
“You didn’t see it last night?”
He shakes his head. “You’d lost a lot of blood. For all we knew, the injury to your head came from the struggle.”
“What struggle?”
“The murder.”
“Vamps are way stronger and faster than I am. Maybe I could trap a dumb one. But Georgina’s not dumb. Wasn’t dumb. How the hell am I supposed to have killed her?”
Bennett eyes me uncomfortably. “I’m not at liberty to say just yet.”
If there was a struggle, I should have more scars. I stand and start inspecting my body. My right sleeve is crusty. I peel it back. My forearm has a crisscross of jagged white lines. And then I see them. My entire body stiffens. At my wrist, are two tiny little holes. Two puncture wounds.
I look up at Bennett in horror. “Did she bite me?”
I pass out. Literally just fall over. I don’t know how long I’m out, Bennett cradling my head like some damn maiden in distress—but it must be awhile. When I come to, Bella’s back.
She strides right into the investigation room and up to Bennett, who helps me to my feet and then goes into a corner with her. They whisper discreetly. And by discreetly, I mean like five-year-olds who can’t keep a secret.
I’m too dazed to listen. This situation is my worst nightmare come to life.
Bennett walks over to me with a chunk of broken plaster in his hands. Metal mesh protrudes from the end. He holds the mesh next to my right arm. I pull my sleeve back to show the scars on my arm. It’s a match.
Bella takes photos while Bennett holds the plaster over my arm, next to it. Holds it up by the scar on the back of my head. Then he sends Bella off with instructions to bag the plaster and develop prints.
“So, does this mean you believe me?”
“It means there’s some evidence on your side.”
“Way to two-step around that one.” I rub a hand over my face and sink into my seat. I don’t want to ask my next question. But I have to.
“Bennett … did she turn human?”
He tenses. Stiff as a board. Yup. And now he’s back to thinking I did this. I hate that look in his eyes.
My eyes tear up. “There’s a reason I don’t let vamps touch me, Ben.”
“I’m listening.”
My throat starts to close but I force the words out. Tell the truth, dummy. "I dated her brother a long time ago. High school."
Bennett waits like a good interrogator, letting the silence build. Damn him! Don't use your stupid techniques on me! But they work. W
ords spill out before my brain catches up to my tongue.
"Alec left after he broke up with me. He's never come back."
Bennett writes in his little black notebook. "So that's why she attacked you? Because she blames you for her brother leaving?"
"What?"
"We have witnesses who say she attacked you at the meeting. Did she do it again outside? It's not murder if it self-defense, Ly-ly."
I stand. "No. You don't understand. I'm not the murderer. I'm not a killer. I didn't—"
Bennett stands too. He holds his hands out as if to pacify me.
"I don't need your patronizing. I'm not the murderer, I'm telling you. I'm the damn murder weapon."
Bennett just stares at me blankly.
“When I was fifteen, Alec bit me. And he turned human.” Shame washes over me as I relive the horror of that moment. The passion that lit Alec up in the aftermath of our first time. How he asked if he could bite me. ‘Just a sip. To make you even more mine.’ I had no idea back then.
“What?”
“My blood turns vamps human. Someone smacked me with that plaster last night. Scraped up my arm. What vamp can resist easy blood? Someone used me to lure Georgina closer. My blood made Georgina human. That would make her an easy mark.”
Bennett runs his hands through his hair. “I’ve never heard of anything like this.”
“I know.”
“You never told anyone.”
I shake my head. “I was fifteen. A kid.”
“If he turned human, was his memory wiped?”
The law says someone who loses his or her powers has to be wiped. Because once you’re ‘humanized,’ your alliances change. You’re more likely to out your former pack or share your coven’s secrets.
I nod, tears starting despite myself. “His family sent him away. Thought a new start would be easier for him, since they were all vamp.”
“So, the parents can verify your story.”
“Yeah.”
“Wouldn’t Georgina have known?”
I shrug. “She’s older. Didn’t live in the house at the time. I dunno.”
“So, she might not have known your blood does this?”
“You’d have to talk to her parents.”
Bennett sighs. “How many part-fae are in this town?”
“Four? Maybe. Most of them get brought beyond the Veil.” This is so not the moment to reflect on my mother’s below-average parenting skills.
“This isn’t a common vamp-fae reaction?”
I shrug. “I’ve never heard of it. But I’m a mixed bag. My fae family are kinda liberal in their marriages.” This is the phrase my grandmother taught me to use instead of saying my mother and an aunt were tramps.
“Okay. I’ll see what I can find out. If anyone else has a record of something like this. Has it ever happened to you again?”
“You mean did I ever intentionally violate Statute 1.38? Theft of Power? No. God. I was horrified. Am horrified. I haven’t touched a vamp in nine years.” Even though I’m drawn to vamps, I’m their worst nightmare. I know that.
“I just had to ask.”
“I know.”
Bella comes back in, hauling a practice dummy on her back and box in her hands. She ignores the fact that she interrupted us as she proceeds to take my fingerprints. Bennett lets her, watching me silently. She gets my prints on a card, then she hauls the dummy up onto the table.
“Place your fingers around the neck please.”
What? This is not protocol. I raise my eyebrows at her, then look at Bennett. He gives a slight nod.
“Why?”
Bella sighs as though explaining things to me is the biggest inconvenience in the world. “Because we need prints on multiple surfaces. Okay?”
I just covered for her last night. And this is how she’s gonna act? I squint and deliberately stick my fingers on the stomach of the practice dummy. “There.”
“The neck, not the torso.”
“You have prints on multiple surfaces.”
Bennett interjects. “Just cooperate, Lyon.”
“I’ve been cooperating. This looks like some kind of bull-spit set up.”
“It’s not.”
“Why do you need it?”
Bella tries to grab my hands and force them onto the dummy. I pull back, but I’m no match for a werewolf. She pushes my hands into the dummy’s neck, positioning them so my fingers wrap around the back. Shit. Wait. Is this what I think it is? I glance up at Bennett, my eyes wide. “She was strangled?”
Of course, I get no answer. I’m a suspect. Even my co-worker’s cool with treating me like dirt. She packs up and leaves without a second glance at me. I’m about to throw a massive pity party when Bennett reminds me about our prior conversation.
“So, your blood turns vampires human? Does anyone know about this? Outside his parents?”
I nod, wearily. “JR—Juniper Ruth, I mean. Jacob and Saffron Watts. That’s it.”
“No one else. Not your parents?”
I shake my head.
“So, whoever hit you didn’t know that you’d turn Georgina human?”
“Nope.”
“Unless Jacob or Saffron came outside after you…”
“Don’t. They wouldn’t.”
His eyes are sad. “I’ll look into all this.”
And I didn’t think I could feel any worse. I sink to a new low. I think I just ruined the lives of my stand-in parents. Shit. I open my mouth to make up some kind of confession. But the door swings open.
Chapter 6
Sheila barges into the room carrying more coffee and oh-so-stereotypical-but-delicious donuts. She's an angel of caffeine and mercy.
"Do you accept me as your appointed lawyer?" She gets straight to the point.
"Yeah sure," I respond. That’s right. I get an attorney. Idiot. Why have I been sitting here talking to Bennett? Because I’m sleep-deprived. Blood-deprived. Possibly missing some brain matter from that gash in my head.
"Bennett you are no longer allowed to question my client. She and I need the room." Bam.
Bennett tries to give me a reassuring smile but I can't look him in the eyes. He knew I should ask for a lawyer. But he didn’t help me. Didn’t remind me. He's investigating me. Me!
It makes me feel dirty and angry and offended all over again. I don't care that he is just doing his job. I don't care that I'm being unfair. Right now I just want to kick him. Possibly in the junk. Yeah, I think I'm that mad.
Bennett heads for the door.
“Oh and Bennett?” Sheila adds.
“Yes?” He turns back.
Suddenly one of her snakes pops free of its coil and hisses. Bennett freezes and falls over backward.
“Oh dear,” Sheila does not sound at all disturbed. She steps over Bennett and calls into the hall. “Man down. Can we get a little help?” Alfred, a were investigator, pops his head into the room.
“Dang it, Sheila. You know you’re supposed to keep those things sedated.”
“I know. I know. So sorry. Just got these guys tamed, too.” She pats the rogue snake’s head as she tucks him back into a braid.
Alfred rolls his eyes and drags Bennett out, bonking the guy’s head on the door jamb in the process.
“He shouldn’t be out more than five minutes,” she calls after Alfred. “I really did get them done yesterday.”
I hold in a laugh, but a snort escapes.
Sheila drags a finger across her throat. She eyes the two-way mirror. “Gonna have to talk to my hairdresser. And by the way guys,” she taps on the two-way glass, “my client does not consent to any recording devices or spells of any kind from this point forward.”
I imagine I hear a groan from the other side of the glass. Sheila blows the glass a kiss and checks her snakes in the reflection before she closes the door to the room. Then she tosses the bag of donuts to me. "Dig in."
She sits across from me at the table as I down three chocolate donuts and half my coffee in
rapid succession.
“So, let's just get started. I've been thinking through arguments for your defense. Technically, we could try to argue double jeopardy. Since she was undead, she was already dead. And the idiot human the Knights hired to kill them so they could transform was caught. He served his time seventy years back. It’s risky. Since technically, it wasn’t you who killed her the first time.”
“I didn’t kill her the second time.” I’m frickin’ indignant. No. Livid. I mean, all I did was pass out. “Apparently it’s illegal now to get clubbed and pass out.”
“Can you prove that?”
I jut out my lower lip. “What about Bennett’s self-defense theory? She attacked me and I fought back.”
Sheila stares me straight in the eye. I’m not human, not completely, but her gorgon stare does make my limbs tighten up.
“If you want to argue that, you can. But, then you’re a fairy who fights to the death. You know what that means.”
The Veil. If I argue that I killed Georgina in self-defense, they won’t ever let me cross. Not that seeing my mother is a huge incentive. But, the world beyond the Veil is breathtaking. They don’t let darkened souls across. Can I give that up?
“You hesitated,” Sheila notices my turmoil. “That’s why we don’t want to go there unless we absolutely have to. What they have now is circumstantial at best. You were there. She had some of your blood in her system. It's pretty weak evidence. Plus, there are a lotta people out there who have stronger motives than you.”
I perk up at that. “Like who?”
Sheila shrugs, her head wrap bobbing as the snakes struggle for balance. “Like her ex.”
I use my clueless face to tip her off that more info is necessary.
“Luke Hawkins. That vamp fighting Bennett at the time of the murder.”
Hot Vamp?! Hot Vamp was dating that vicious vein-eating bitch? I shake my head as my opinion of him drops a notch or two.
“Bennett’s thinking about Jacob or Saffron too.” I pitch in. “We have to protect them too.”
Sheila sighs. “A seat on the City Council is pretty good motive. A lotta power in this town.”
