by T. G. Ayer
“No need to abuse authority when I have the authority.”
I sighed and hitched the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder. “You have no reason to stalk me, to force me to stop helping people in need.” I took a step closer, ignoring the press of his stomach against mine. Stabbing a finger into his chest, I said, “Remember that it’s your job that I’m doing. You give up on people, send them away with a pat on the hand and a little sad face on their missing persons’ report. They come to me and I help. If it makes you look bad, then tough shit.”
Fulbright grunted. “I don’t have a problem with you finding the people we can’t find.”
I raised both eyebrows and let out a huff of disbelief.
“It’s just that it’s too convenient. You find them almost always. And that’s all good and well. But how is it you can find them and we can’t?”
I folded my arms. “Probably because you’re a bunch of incompetents.”
He shook his head calmly and smiled. “Even if we were, it’s a little too convenient that you’re always able to locate them.” He took a step closer, bending his head to look at my face. “How do you do it?”
I said nothing.
“You psychic or something?”
I shook my head sadly. “I feel sorry for you, Fulbright. Chasing old wives’ tales.” I felt sorry for me too, about having to lie to the man’s face, about having to hide that technically he was right, although humans would have to figure out how to handle the breadth and scope of what they thought ‘psychic’ meant.
He straightened, puffing out his shoulders. “I see what I see. And I see you.”
“How very efficient of you, Detective. At least you know your eyes work. Saves throwing your money at an optometrist.”
Fulbright’s cheeks bloomed pink, his neck following suit within seconds. He hated having his buttons pushed. Pity I loved pushing them. I’d had little success getting him off my back. He seemed stuck there, like a limpet. It felt good taking my frustrations out on the cause of them.
“You have a smart mouth.”
I nodded sagely. “Yeah. It’s my mom’s fault. She always encouraged me to speak my mind.”
Mention of my mom made Fulbright stiffen, but I ignored him. “It was great catching up. We should do this again sometime soon, but I’ve got errands to run.”
I moved to walk around him, already expecting the hand that flashed out to grip my forearm. “I’m not done yet.”
I gave his fingers a pointed glare but he ignored it.
“I bruise easily. Leave a mark and I’ll be happy to make a report. A restraining order would certainly make things more peaceful for me, wouldn’t it . . . Detective?” I’d reached the end of my tether with this conversation, that was going absolutely nowhere. Less than nowhere if my evil companion had its way. Fulbright would be happy when I finally died from possession.
My gut twisted. I was trying really hard not to think about death and its uncomfortable proximity.
Fulbright dropped my arm as if it had turned into a poisonous cobra. “No need to get your panties in a bunch, Morgan. I’m just here to give you a message. Det Camden from The Glades PD said to tell you that Carlo Santiani has been hospitalized.”
“What?” I frowned. “And it took you this long to tell me?”
He shrugged. “Not too serious. He’s been stabilized and is under observation at Centennial. Nothing to worry about.”
I groaned. “See? It’s attitudes like that which lead to all those unresolved cases I keep getting thrown my way.”
He grinned coldly, his skin a taut mask on the bones of his face. “Just passing on the message.”
And then he turned and disappeared off into the night, leaving me to wonder why the Glades precinct had not called me directly, and why Gina hadn’t bothered to let me know what had happened to her father. Perhaps she didn’t think I needed to know? Or was it something far more sinister than that?
I glared at Fulbright’s disappearing back, realizing that I hadn’t asked, or been told, what my client’s ailment was either.
Typical.
Chapter 19
Centennial Private Hospital was more secure than the Pentagon.
Or so I assumed.
Saleem dropped me off and said he’d be back in half an hour and would wait in the car. I’d had to sign in and surrender all my weapons, have my bag inspected as well as my credentials checked. After a ten minute wait the guard then made a call up to Santiani’s room, where I assumed he confirmed with my client that I was actually working for him.
Receipt for my weapons in hand, the guard guided me inside the facility and up three levels to the suites. Seemed a little over the top to me, what with all the solid oak furniture, plush pile carpets and gleaming objet d’arts. Nice to have a little peek into how the other half lived, even if I wasn’t sure this really was the reality of the lives of the wealthy.
In my limited imagination, I’d assumed they’d have added security, and maybe a room of their own, not a space that resembled a deluxe room at the Hilton. But then again, what did I know?
My guide dropped me off at Santiani’s door, knocking first and announcing my arrival before leaving me to enter alone.
Santiani lay on a queen bed, occupying the center of one large wood-paneled wall, his pale skin almost lifeless against the pearlescent white of the satin sheets. He offered me a weak smile in greeting, then waved a raised finger, pointing at a pair of black leather wing-back chairs beside the bed. The armchairs flanked a glass coffee table bearing two glasses and a gleaming silver water flask, beads of condensation dripping to a plate beneath. The sight of which reminded me of the parched condition of my tongue and throat.
I ignored it.
I dropped my bag on one of the armchairs and sat at the edge of the seat closest to Santiani and studied his features. Clammy pale skin, almost gray, it made me wonder if perhaps he’d been possessed by a vamp-demon, or even worse, the real thing.
Rare. But possible.
“Thanks for letting me know you were here.” I filled the silence.
“Better than you calling the house to give me an update and having Marshall tell you.”
I nodded, deciding it was time to ask him the hard questions. “I have a few questions regarding Gina.”
Santiani stiffened and lifted his head from his pillow.
“No.”
The single word conveyed the extent of his distress; dilated pupils, blood-infused skin, wide eyes. Terror filled his eyes and even the most oblivious person could see that he was stricken with fear.
But he recovered quickly, as men of his station do when they realize they’ve slipped and revealed their true emotions.
He cleared his throat, then raised a hand to dismiss the topic. “Gina is . . . Gina. She’s a . . . free spirit.” His words slurred and his head sank back onto the pillow.
I moved closer to the bed and rested my hip against the mattress. “Tell me. I know something is wrong. All I want to do is help you.”
He stared at me, eyes filled with fear. Fear that dissolved and faded into a neutral lack of concern. “There’s nothing to worry about. I just need you to find Gia for me.”
I touched his shoulder. “Carlo, you have to help me. The only way I can help you is if you help me to do so.” When he shifted his gaze away I leaned closer, intent on getting him to respond.
He opened his mouth to speak, but then stiffened, the muscles in his neck tightening. His eyes widened, only the whites now revealed as he began to shudder. The seizure took control, lifting him off the bed, then slamming him back down repeatedly. Lights flashed, machines around the room began to beep. Seconds later, the door swung open and a flood of nurses, doctors and technicians flowed into the room, elbowing me aside. I was only too happy to comply.
Standing beside the window seat, I watched as doctors examined him, poking and prodding and drawing blood long after he’d already relaxed and all signs of the convulsions had dissipated. Befo
re I knew it, they were rolling him out of the room for further tests. As they disappeared out of the room I wondered if I should go with him. Or maybe I should leave altogether and return later.
I stood there in a quandary for a few moments before I decided there wasn’t much sense in staying. Then a dark-haired nurse walked into the room, golden bangles jingling at her wrists, and said, “I’m sorry you had to see Mr Santiani this way.” She gave me a small sad smile, white pearly teeth glinting against her golden skin. “It’s hard especially with how violent the seizures can get. The doctor will repeat the tests but it’s merely a precaution since he already suspects the cause of his condition.” Her strong accent placed her as Punjabi or something else North Indian. The nurse smiled again and shimmied her head in the way only an Indian could, something halfway between a bob and half a twist, with a hint of a jiggle.
The way my grandmother used to do.
I straightened, the sudden recollection setting me off balance. “How soon before it’s confirmed?”
“You don’t have to worry. He will be back soon.” She made a pushing motion with her hand; sit, sit. Then another head shake/bob; don’t worry. Even the one-quarter of my DNA recognized the code.
She turned on her heel, the single long plait hanging down her back making a wide swing as she moved. Then she was gone, and the room fell silent.
Okay.
So they suspected that they knew what was wrong with him.
I glanced at the chart sitting in a small file stand on the bedside table. I stared at the door. My luck usually went along the lines of the door opening while I stood there, caught with the file in my hot little hands.
Then I figured I had nothing to lose. What could they do to me besides kicking me out? Santiani needed me, so he’d just get them to let me back inside.
I strode to the table and grabbed the file, flipping it open and angling the adjustable desk lamp to focus on the tiny writing. Temperature and BP recordings, other unrecognizable details. And one word that sent a chill through my gut.
Suspected Prion’s disease — second test requested for final confirmation.
Prion’s Disease.
The man had mad cow disease?
Chapter 20
I was so confused.
Add that to the strange way he’d reacted to the mention of his daughter, and I had more than a puzzle on my hands.
With a sigh, I replaced the file and was about to head out of the room when a nurse shoved the door open, and rushed to grab the file. She was spinning on her heel, ready to dash out the door when I hurried toward her.
“What happened?”
She gave me an impatient glance. “Mr Santiani is in a coma.”
Crap on a stick.
Now what?
She began to walk off, so I grabbed my bag and kept pace with her. “When will he wake up?”
Her penciled eyebrows curved dangerously. “Your guess is as good as ours. We’ll send word when he does, but in his case, he’s likely to be out for a couple days. You’d better hope it isn’t longer.”
“Why’s that?” I asked, slowing my steps.
Over her shoulder she said, “Because if he doesn’t wake up in the next day or so, then he probably won’t ever regain consciousness.”
Then she took a corner and was gone, leaving me in the middle of the hall, staring after her in shock.
Another person on Death’s radar? My client and I certainly were a matched set.
I sighed, resigning myself to concentrating on tracking Gia down without her father’s help. Before I returned to the truck, I checked my phone for messages.
Scrolling through the list I spotted one that made my heart tighten.
Shit.
Kai Odel had messaged me around midday and I hadn’t seen it.
Mel. Sorry for short notice but I need your help urgently.
Ominous.
Considering its urgency, I responded straight away, telling her I’d meet her at O’Hagan’s in a couple hours.
Chapter 21
The door to O’Hagan’s had a bell not too different from the one Tara had in her shop, loud, abrasive and completely impossible to hear over the din O’Hagan’s customers made. Still, I wasn’t surprised when Kai looked up the moment I’d entered.
Probably her panther senses.
I stepped toward her, hesitating when I saw her expression; tense, angry. Either way, she didn’t give me time to decide what to do. Below table level, and out of sight of her companion, she waved me away. Whoever the man was, shrouded in shadows, his face well hidden, Kai wanted me to stay away.
I chose the seat nearest to me, a narrow two-person booth beside the door and watched her, worried now. Who was the guy and why did he make Kai so uncomfortable?
A few minutes passed, during which I’d shredded one of O’Hagan’s shamrock printed napkins, and had begun on a second. When I looked again, Kai’s companion had disappeared, and she was sitting there, her face pale.
I headed over, determined to find out what was wrong, but when I moved to sit opposite her, she stood up. “Let’s sit somewhere else.”
I sent her a questioning glance. “Sure. The booth by the window?”
She nodded, reaching for her satchel, and following me back to my table by the window. We’d barely seated ourselves before I bent closer. “Kailin, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Kai snorted. “I have, in a manner of speaking.”
“Who was that guy? He looked a little creepy.” I shuddered, hoping he wasn’t planning on returning. I dropped my bag on the seat beside me.
Kai sighed. “That creepy guy wasn’t a guy at all.” She massaged her forehead for a few moments before saying, “Chicago is in the midst of a wraith infestation. That was one of them.”
My eyes widened. “What the hell was he doing talking to you?”
“Giving me an ultimatum.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that so we fell into a taut silence. Thankfully, Beth came over and offered me a menu. With a wink at Kai, Beth said, “I don’t think you’re ready to order again, are you?”
“Not by a long shot. I’ll just have an iced tea, Beth.” She scribbled the order on her little notepad, then did the same for me as I requested one of O’Hagan’s amazing burgers, and a soda.
With Beth gone, Kai sat back, looking only slightly less tense. “I’m sorry for the spy-subterfuge thing. I just didn’t want you to run into him. The less he has against me the better.”
“So what did he want?” I demanded.
“He was threatening my mother. Said I needed to stay away from him and his kind or they will kill her.” Kai said the words, a little too emotionless, and the color drained from my face. Kai leaned forward and shook her head. “I think it’s bluster. Mostly. They assumed she’s the Hunter they’re looking for, but they’re wrong. And I told them as much. I will slaughter every single one of them if they hurt her in any way.”
“How can you be sure they won’t hurt her?” I asked, worried.
Kai looked just as worried. “That’s the kicker. I can’t be sure. I’m just hoping they won’t. And that’s what I need you for.”
I nodded. “To track your mom?” Kai nodded. “You have something I can track her with?” I asked.
“Yeah, but I forgot to put it into some sort of protective case.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a portal key. It’s got her blood in the crevices of the carvings. It was the only thing I had on hand in the apartment. If you need something else, I’ll have to go home for it.”
I shook my head. “That’s totally fine. It should work. I don’t see any reason why it won’t.”
“Good.” Kai sighed. Shadows beneath her eyes emphasized her exhaustion. Which was typical of the shifter. She kept going until she couldn’t go anymore. “I really want to get this done as soon as possible.”
“Right, then. As soon as I’m done shoveling food down my throat, we can go back
to your place and I will track her for you.”
Kai looked surprised. “No appointment, then?”
“None at all. I have a little time, so what better moment than right now?”
The look of relief on Kai’s face was enough to assure me I’d made the right decision, even though I knew Drake would probably skin me alive for my insistence on multi-tasking.
“And about your fee?” she asked.
I waved her off firmly, glad she didn’t fight me. “No fee. Except, I may call in a favor sometime in the future.”
“Sure,” Kai said, her brow furrowed with curiosity. “Anything you can talk about right now?”
I shook my head, wondering what Saleem would think if I brought his best friend’s main squeeze on board with his search for his mother. “Well, yes and no. I don’t have all the information. It’s just a suspicion at this point. When we have something more to go on, then I’ll call you.”
“No problem. Just text me. And if I don’t answer, call Logan. He’ll know if I’m alive or dead,” said Kai with a twist of her lips.
I laughed mid-bite. “Very optimistic of you.”
“Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it. wraiths are unpredictable. And the more powerful they are, the more my life is at risk.” Suddenly she looked exhausted again.
I hesitated again before I took another bite and chewed. Then I asked, “So can you tell me something?”
“Sure. Shoot.”
I opened my mouth to ask her if she knew anything about evil spirits or knew anyone with dark magic that would want to curse me this way, but I chickened out. I’d be selfish to place the burden on another person’s shoulders. Not yet. Not until I knew what I was going to do about it.
I changed my topic on the fly, grasping at her mention of wraiths. “Okay, so when you track the wraiths, what is it you look for?” I asked.
Kai sipped her tea, then put the glass down. “One of my skills is the ability to see the tracks they leave. Everything they touch is colored by a fine dust. To me, it appears as a glowing coral powder. I can see it anywhere, on people, on furniture, anywhere a wraith touches.”