More questions. New questions. No answers but definitely new possibilities. Things that made sense. Some of it. Not enough without proof.
I called Wisniewski. “It’s Bianca. You freeze Thrace’s assets? I mean, like completely?”
“He couldn’t even get a dollar from an ATM. Why? You find something?”
I told her my new idea.
“Holy shit, Savage! No one at the bureau thought to look for signs of a love-struck boy in that footage. We’ll follow up. Double-check as part of our failed due diligence. Once we confirm what you found, we can move on it.”
“What more can you do besides keeping his money tied up to prevent them running away on it. I take it Vincent’s money is still untouched?”
“Not even a balance inquiry.”
“I’m going to talk to Gibraltar’s attorney. See if he has any ideas on this new line of inquiry.”
“Would the werewolves be helping Anton though? Without money to pay them, a gay werewolf’s more likely to have his ass kicked than be united with young love.”
“That’s why I want to make sure the money’s going to stay frozen. I think if we passed that bit of information along to the pack, someone might just lead me to our lovebirds.”
“Or might kill them. That’s a big risk. I can’t authorize it. Not without clearing it through chain of command.”
“There’s no proof. You aren’t going to get permission.”
She was quiet for a few moments. “Sorry, Bianca. I want to help. I like a good sting operation. But not if it means endangering the boy.”
“I understand. I wouldn’t even ask if I thought he’d get hurt. But you’re right. He might. Fine. I’ll come up with another plan. But at least you can follow up by presenting the new hypothesis.”
“Can’t you say theory like all the rest of us ignorant folk?”
“Nope.” I grinned and hung up.
But my joy was just a flash. Burned up and gone like that.
“If Vincent left on his own and I don’t turn him in when I find them, I’m breaking the law. But if I do, I’m doing something much worse. Keeping him a prisoner. Sentencing Thrace to the prison, too. Shakespeare had something to say about situations like this. Everyone winds up dead. Well, fuck him.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
I decided to stop by the condo to check on Martini. And to shower. I showered twice a day on most cases. Lengthy stakeouts. Skulking in alleys. Chasing suspects. It wasn’t a tidy job.
This time I didn’t need to shower because I was dirty. I just felt unclean. Doing my job might mean destroying a young man’s life. Meant sending Anton Thrace to prison as a sex offender. Ridiculous as that was!
It wasn’t my call to make. So then why was I so determined to find a way around it? Find a happily-ever-after where murder had been involved? Maybe it was because I’d never have a happily-ever-after of my own.
The garage was full of cars. No people. All my tenants safely tucked away in their condos. It was dark out. Another day shot to hell. But the night was just starting.
Hardwicke and Wisniewski had dropped off the financials on Killian’s group with Janet. She’d left them on my desk before she’d gone home for the day. The sooner I went through that material, the better. And I had a meeting with Blake Mansfield in an hour. Also at my office. I was hoping he knew his cousin better than he’d let on. Knew about the boy’s attraction to Thrace.
I got out of the car. Debating the problems of biology and the arbitrary nature of human legal systems. Remembering first hand when thirteen was an adult. Girls were old maids by fourteen. Times were different on the frontier. People needed to have kids. To work the fields. Build a homestead. Protect each other.
I didn’t scan the building with my power. I wasn’t looking for danger. Stupid of me. Ask anyone. That’s usually when danger found them.
Someone struck me from behind. Knocked me onto my face against the chill cement. My Sig slipped out of the thigh holster. Skidded across the garage floor. Out of reach.
I rolled onto my back. Tried to grab the Glock in my shoulder holster while seeing who’d attacked me. I couldn’t look away from my attacker. The gun wouldn’t come loose.
A blonde man loomed over me. Cast in shadows. Big. Heavily muscled. He lunged forward, arms reaching for my throat. He was fast. But I bent my knees. Kicked with all my strength as he dropped toward me.
I was stronger than a human. A lot stronger, especially after feeding on Killian. This guy didn’t budge as my feet connected. I pushed myself backwards along the floor instead. Sliding away from him. He barely noticed.
Fear rose in me. Someone stronger than me. Something not human. My power unfurled instinctively then. Lashed out like a scream. Struck the blonde and lapped at his lifeforce. I tasted the feral nature of his energy. Lycanthrope. Someone I’d never see before. There were other shadows behind him. At least two more. Big men. Just as powerful.
“Who are you?” I demanded, cursing silently that the fall had dislodged the straps binding the holster. Leather meant to keep the Glock safely pressed against my body was now tangled in the weapon.
“Your death,” replied the lycanthrope. I wasn’t certain which kind. He tasted like wolf. My interaction with Killian’s group made it the best guess. Not that I’d ever met any other kind. There were two others with him. Hanging back.
He lunged at me again and I gave up on the gun. I rolled quickly to one side as his companions joined the attack. I didn’t call for help. I didn’t want one of my conscientious neighbors to come downstairs. They’d try to interfere. Even old Mrs. Welby. I couldn’t let them. They’d died faster than I would. Without serving any purpose.
I felt icy shards form in my stomach as my power sucked at his lifeforce. I concentrated. Pouring it into him. Then I pulled hard like I had with Killian. This time, without holding back.
The blonde dropped to his knees but the other two kept coming. I’d worked so hard at controlling my power that I didn’t know how to unleash it fully. Not against a group. My panic at his sudden attack settled. And I wasn’t hungry like I’d been before. Feeding on Killian had sated me more than I’d have hoped.
Taking down one of them was doable. The other two—I tried switching targets. A grey-haired older man. I felt another surge of heady energy. A rush of euphoria that slowed down my reaction-time like a drug.
My power made the man stagger. Woozy. But hitting them one at a time wasn’t going work. The blonde was already getting back to his feet.
“God damn you all!” I glanced at the Sig on the smooth cement floor. I’d rolled away from it. Not towards. I cursed again silently.
The third werewolf leapt forward. A lean Asian man with smoldering brown eyes. Nails like claws. A hint of transformation. Must be close to the full moon. I hadn’t checked the exact date it would hit. Dealing with werewolves, I should’ve.
I raised my arms to block the attack, unable to move out of the way fast enough. But the weight of him never struck me. No claws dug into my flesh.
I lowered my arms carefully. Saw the Asian wriggling with feet in the air, clawing at his back. Someone had the werewolf in a chokehold.
Movement distracted me. The blonde rushed forward. Past me. Toward the struggling Asian.
I tried to see who held the Asian. They had to be preternaturally strong. A momentary flash of hope burned in my chest. The mysterious woman. But I saw the arms. Masculine. A man.
I rolled onto my belly, a less vulnerable position. Desperate to see who’d saved me. I recognized the vampire in time to shout a warning. “Dusty!”
The blonde werewolf lashed out, aiming for the vampire’s kidney. Dusty spun, dragging the clawing Asian in front of him like a shield. The blonde drove his preternatural fist into the wrong target and his friend screamed in agony.
The older werewolf stood. He’d recovered. Circled Dusty and the other two werewolves. No way the vampire could stand against them all.
I scrabbled to my hands
and feet and dove for the Sig. Apparently the grey-haired werewolf decided to ignore Dusty. He’d continued around the fighting men until he was almost behind me. Close enough to grab my ankle. He threw me away from my weapon, into Mrs. Chavez’s white Ford Malibu. The alarm began sounding.
I heard doors open in the complex above me. Damn it! Innocent lives were about to be at risk.
“The police’ll be coming!” I shouted. Pouring my hunger into the grey-haired werewolf. Drinking deeply enough that the room swooned. I’d never overeaten before. It was almost as bad as being hungry. Painful. Overwhelming my control. Keeping me from soaking up more energy.
“He’s a freakin’ vampire!” shouted one of the werewolves. “One undead was dangerous. Two’s too much with the police on the way!”
“Grab Tony and go!”
My vision cleared and I saw Dusty knocked across the room. He smashed into a cement support column. The blonde and older man had the Asian’s arms. Dragging him out.
I tried to stand. Wanted to give chase. It was a stupid idea. But it didn’t matter. My legs gave out and I collapsed onto all fours. I stayed there. Breathing heavily. Waiting for my muscles to stop trembling.
Cool gentle hands touched my shoulder. Helped me to stand. “Lucky that I decided to stop by.”
I stared at Dusty. Grateful that he’d been there. Then pissed off, too. “Why the hell are you stalking me, Dusty? I don’t date vampires.”
He pulled away but I sagged and he braced me again. “I don’t mean to bother you. I just can’t stop thinking about you. About our kiss.”
“Yeah, well what about Rhoda? Isn’t she your intended or whatever?”
“We flirted. She wanted more. I felt something. But nothing like this. She’s like a shadow on a foggy evening. You’re like fire in the middle of a thunderstorm. Warm. Exciting. Undeniable.”
“I’m sorry, Dusty. This isn’t you. My power must’ve affected you.”
“Why does everyone say that? I felt your power when we kissed. I knew it briefly sparked something inside me. Something that made me want to grab you. Press you against me.” He laughed nervously. “Hell, even tear your clothes off. I’m never that way with a woman. Never have been. But your power left me. I felt it go. I knew when I was thinking on my own.”
I shook my head, staring into his earnest, steel-grey eyes. “I doubt it. No offense, Kid, but even once the charm is past its bloom, there are echoes of desire. Not usually with one whammy. But still.”
“You’re wrong.” He folded his arms across his broad chest. More petulant than masculine. “An’ I want a better reason than I’m a vampire not to want to get to know me.”
“You’re a kid?” I tried not to smile. Let’s just say I wasn’t too successful.
He grew angry. “I saved your life just now. How much of a kid am I?”
“Fine.” I tested standing on my own. Nodded when my legs held. Standing on my own, I gave him a better answer. “You’re a virgin.”
“And you aren’t so that makes you better? That’s a double standard.”
I hesitated.. “Actually, I am. I plan on keeping it that way.”
I’d piqued his interest. His frown grew wistful. “Because you’re religious?”
I opened my mouth to give him a flippant retort. Then stopped. I didn’t believe sex outside of marriage was a sin. Not the way it was portrayed in the Bible. One of my regular and frequent arguments with my pastor. We each knew the other would never concede. Didn’t stop us from trying.
Historically, it made sense. There’d been all sorts of social complexities about men not abandoning their duties to a woman and her unborn child. Men were warriors. Fighters. Killers. Women were submissive and meek. Stayed home and built a family. Because that was what was expected of them.
Those were the old rules. Women didn’t need men to have or raise children. Well, they needed sperm. Just not the men themselves. Men didn’t need women either to be a decent parent. A two parent family was only stronger than a single parent some of the time. When it was built out of love and mutual respect. Otherwise, I’d seen it in the past and in the present. A couple that fought all the time was worse than a mediocre single parent.
I might never know firsthand about raising a child. But having someone supportive to help make better choices was a good thing. Didn’t have to be a romantic partner. Just someone that could keep things balanced. A trustworthy friend. A loyal sibling.
“Yeah. Maybe it’s part of my religious background. Maybe I’ve spent so many years knowing I can’t enjoy unfettered sex with a man without killing him, that I’ve shut that part of myself off.”
He held my gaze. “You can’t kill me.”
“That’s even worse, Dusty. I can’t even consider the idea of sex with a corpse. Sorry. That’s what you are. Really.”
He let go of me then. One hand ready to catch me if I swooned. Chivalrous despite his resentment. He realized that I didn’t need his help anymore and walked away. I’d hurt him. Badly. But it was the truth. Nothing I said to make him feel better would change it. So I watched him walk away.
“Bianca!”
Sandra Tiptree-James, one of my youngest neighbors with pale skin, blue eyes and Nordic blonde hair came rushing into the parking garage. She held a baseball bat in a tight, two-fisted grip. Mrs. Chavez was with her, cellphone at the ready. They saw the blood and studied me. Trying to find out if it was mine.
“They’re gone.” I smiled, a bittersweet sad twist of my mouth. “Thank you for coming to my aid. You chased them away.”
“I called the police,” shouted Mrs. Welby from the top of the stairs leading into the garage. As if I couldn’t hear her from twenty feet away. Or maybe the way she peered into the corners of the garage, she feared they might be watching. Waiting. The elderly black woman clutched her cane with both hands, ready to swing at the first sign of trouble.
“I would miss you guys.”
Mrs. Chavez smiled uncertainly. “You’re fine, Bianca. Safe now. We’d miss you, too. Best not let anything happen.”
Mr. Huong and his niece Mei stepped around Mrs. Welby. They each had kitchen knives in their hands. Looking fierce and afraid both. Bits of food stained Mr. Huong’s apron. I’d interrupted their dinner preparation. Such loyalty among these everyday people. Tears threatened to form.
“Thank you, Mrs. Chavez. Everyone.”
She thought that I’d meant, I’d miss them if I’d died. I’d meant, that if I chose to move away to protect them. I’d break their hearts and mine. At least they’d be alive to feel that pain. Tonight had been another close call. And it was going to be the last.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Janet showed up just as I finished giving my slightly abridged statement to the incident commander. Someone had called her. She waited until the cops and the EMTs finished giving me the once over before approaching me.
“Bee! What happened? Another hate crime?”
“Oh, these guys hated me alright.” I put an arm across her thin shoulders and led her to the far side of the garage. Away from the police talking to my neighbors. “But not the way you’re thinking.”
“The case?”
I nodded. “Werewolves.” I saw her horror and bumped her temple with my head. A gentle rebuke. “No! Stop stressing out. This is what I need you to do, since you’re here. Call Amperdyne. Tell them I need to hire a security detail for my condo complex. Tell them werewolves are one of the more serious threats to me right now. Not a big detail. Just enough men to handle four or five unarmed lycanthropes.”
“Five men attacked you?”
“No. Three.” I paused and she saw something in my expression.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just, the reason I’m okay is that one of the vampires happened to stop by.”
“He just happened to stop by? On the off chance?”
I tried not to squirm with embarrassment. “He fancies me. Alright? There, you know.”
She looked asto
nished. “You said you’d never date a corpse.”
“And that’s what I told him. Afterwards. It didn’t go over big.”
“So the next time he comes back, he might be in the danger category?”
I wrinkled my brows, rubbing my chin. “Honestly, I’d say ‘no.’ I think he’s too innocent for that. Too green. He’s upset. But not the way that would make him want to hurt me.”
“Small favors,” she muttered. “Fine, I’m on it. Anything else?”
“Yeah. Tell me who ratted me out?” I studied my neighbors. They had gathered together in a corner. Talking to the police all at the same time with their anxious renditions of what they saw. Or rather, didn’t see.
“Sorry. I’m having a senior moment. It was someone in the complex. That’s all I can remember.” She gave me a smug grin and I let it go.
“This attack was on me. You’re safe. I touched a raw nerve with Killian, it seems. Once the police run the DNA on the blood splattered all over the garage floor, the Feds’ll take over.”
“That’s why the expensive security.” Janet nodded unhappily. “Oh! And it’s why I had the office locked up. I checked with the tenants. None of them are doing any evening work this week. They didn’t complain. What’s the next move, Boss?”
“I still have a meeting with Blake Mansfield and some reports to go over.” I dangled my housekeys in front of her. “Could you go up and make sure Martini’s okay? The attack pretty much put me behind schedule again. I need a shower more than ever, but it’ll have to wait.”
She patted her purse. “I know I never use it, but you gave me a spare when you bought the place.”
“Wasn’t sure you had it on you.”
I pulled out my phone. Used the Uber app and went to the garage entrance. Two minutes later I was on my way to the office. I didn’t wear a watch and glanced at my phone. I was five minutes late. Hopefully Mansfield wouldn’t use it as an excuse to take off.
The Billionaire's Heir (Sucubus For Hire Book 1) Page 25