by L. J. Red
“Good,” Agent Morrell said. “I’ve got paperwork to submit, but if you can get the vampires in, I can get this greenlit on my end.”
“You’ve got my support,” the captain spoke up. “Lewis and McReeve are my best detectives. If anyone can pull this together, they can.”
Agent Morrell nodded. “You’ll be running it from here, the Bureau is keeping us at arm’s distance,” he said with a wry glance at the other two Feds who had been silent the whole time. “I’ll leave you to make the arrangements, You two with me,” he said, gesturing to the other two, and with that they left in a sudden flurry of movement, leaving a shell-shocked Brigit in their wake.
“So,” she said after a moment, since the captain and Dana weren’t saying anything. “Are we honorary Feds now or what? ‘Cause, to tell you the truth, I always wanted one of those fancy windbreakers they wear.” Captain Davis stared at her impassively. “You know,” she continued with a grin, “with FBI written on the—”
“Get out,” he said.
Brigit laughed, and she caught Dana cracking a smile out of the corner of her eye.
“Don’t make me regret recommending you, McReeve.”
“No, sir. Thank you, sir.” Brigit grinned.
“Take the back room,” Davis said, pointing. “You can clear out the boxes; it isn’t being used for meetings anymore. Should be some extension cords around somewhere… This could be a big deal, not just for the two of you, but for the city, hell, for the entire country.”
“We won’t let you down,” Dana said firmly, and Brigit nodded next to her. She might crack a joke to break the tension, but she knew how unusual this was. How important it was.
The captain eased back down behind his desk with a sigh. “I’ve got miles of paperwork to send through on this before we can get anywhere. You two are dismissed. I want you back here tomorrow and you can get started clearing the room and setting up.” He sent them out.
Brigit walked back to, she guessed, what was no longer her desk. Could she bring the coffee stains with her to the back room? They seemed kind of comforting now that she was going to lose them. She slowly pulled her coat on. She needed to say something to Dana, apologize for being weird about the whole vampire thing. It had gone on long enough. Brigit steeled herself. What could she say? She was sorry but she needed time to get used to the fact that her best friend was no longer human?
“Detective McReeve?” the uniform at the desk shouted out.
Thank God, Brigit thought silently to herself and looked up. “Yeah?”
“Someone for you,”
Brigit nodded. “Coming.” She turned back to Dana. “Um, see you tomorrow then?” she said awkwardly before walking away, feeling like a coward.
Outside, the uniform directed her to the front of the precinct. “She wouldn’t come inside.”
Brigit frowned. “Weird.” She walked outside. The streetlights lit up the street in yellow-orange, but shadows clung to the corners of the building and it took Brigit a moment to realize she recognized the diminutive form standing against the wall.
“Sparrow,” she said in shock. “Holy shit. You’re alive.” Sparrow, the homeless and unreliable informant that Brigit and Dana had given up for dead as one of the unnamed victims of the Monster of Chicago, stepped into the light. Her brown flyaway hair was in a cloud around her head and her light brown eyes extremely wide. “Brigit, you have to help me,” she said. “They want to kill me.”
Chapter 2
“Kill you?” Brigit asked. “What do you mean?” She took a step closer to Sparrow.
Sparrow hunched her shoulders, shrinking down inside her voluminous coat. From between the lapels, Brigit caught a glint, the streetlights reflecting off her amber necklace. Sparrow tugged her coat closed, her sleeves riding up to expose her bony wrists. Life on the streets had given her a wiry sort of strength but she was thin from lack of food, and her eyes held an edge of fear.
Brigit had worried for Sparrow over the years, but somehow the younger woman had always had an aura of strength around her. She knew how to survive on the streets, had grown up on them, ever since she was a teenager, but for the first time, that aura of strength was gone. Sparrow was seriously afraid.
“They’re taking us,” Sparrow said, leaning forward toward Brigit.
“Who is? Taking who? Taking you where?” Brigit asked. Sparrow just shook her head, her eyes darting around. “Look, Sparrow why don’t you come in—”
“No, no.” Sparrow danced backward. “I’m not… I’m not going in there.”
Brigit hesitated; Sparrow had never liked going to the precinct. She was very picky about who she trusted, and Dana and Brigit were the only cops she would talk to. Brigit glanced back and saw Dana exiting the building. Dana’s eyes acclimatized far quicker than Brigit’s had to the darkness. She picked Brigit out in the darkness. Brigit gestured for her to join them.
“Okay, okay,” Brigit said reassuringly, turning back to Sparrow. She pulled her notebook from her pocket. “Just tell me who they are and where they’re taking people.”
“They’re taking us,” Sparrow repeated frantically, glancing around herself.
“My God, Sparrow?” Dana said when she got close enough to see around Brigit’s shoulder. “You’re alive.”
Sparrow stared at Dana. “You’re not,” she said quietly, pressing back against the wall.
Dana pulled up short and Brigit saw a flicker of hurt run through her eyes. Brigit stepped between them, not liking the hurt on her friend’s face. “It’s all right,” she said. “I got this. I’ll take Sparrow to the shelter. Okay, Sparrow? You can spend the night inside.” She glanced at the sky. “It might not be snowing anymore, but it’s still cold at night and you’ll do better with a roof over you.” Sparrow curled her lip, but Brigit ignored her expression. She was taking Sparrow to the shelter. Maybe she could get some answers from her on the way. She turned to Dana. “You’ve got enough ahead of you convincing your, um…” She trailed off.
“Lucian,” Dana supplied.
“Right, convincing Lucian to send one of his Shadows into the precinct with you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Dana glanced at Sparrow one more time. “I’m glad you’re alive, Sparrow,” she said seriously. Sparrow nodded but said nothing. “I was worried about you. We both were,” she said, looking at Brigit, then back to Sparrow.
Sparrow stared at Dana for moment, then she grinned, sharp. “I heard you dealt with the Monster of Chicago,” she said.
Dana smiled back at her. “Oh yeah,” she said, “he’s dust.”
Brigit heard the satisfaction in Dana’s voice, and she was happy to see that Sparrow had lost some of her defensive body language.
“Alright,” Brigit said as Dana turned to leave. “Let’s go.” She shepherded Sparrow toward her car. She made sure Sparrow buckled in before peeling out into the Chicago night. “Okay, tell me what this is about.”
“They’re taking us,” Sparrow repeated.
“You’re gonna need to give me more than that,” Brigit said patiently. “Who’s us?”
“Us,” Sparrow said. “People like me.”
Brigit frowned. “Homeless?” she asked. “Is that what you mean? Other people sleeping rough in the city?” Had there been fewer homeless people on the streets lately? Could be, but then there were never that many at this time of year. Chicago winters were just too brutal.
“Is that what you mean?” she checked.
“Yeah,” Sparrow said. “Obviously.”
Brigit rolled her eyes. “Okay, so that’s the ‘us’. What about the ‘who’? Who’s taking you?”
“I don’t know,” Sparrow said. “It’s not like they give their names and addresses when they do it. They just turn up in their combat suits with the guns and handcuffs and they pull people into their vans. I saw it happen.”
“When and where?” Brigit said sharply. That sounded serious. Sparrow was silent. “Sparrow, I’m listening, alright? I’m hearing you
. But you gotta give me more than that. Give me locations, details, anything you can remember.” Sparrow was silent. Brigit glanced quickly at her before turning back to the road. Her shoulders were up around her ears again.
Brigit breathed slowly. “Okay.” She looked back at Sparrow. “When did you last eat?”
Sparrow shrugged. “Dunno.”
Brigit pointed to the dashboard. “Open that; see what you can find.”
Sparrow rummaged around, coming up with a snack bar and a bag of chips. She disappeared them into the voluminous folds of her coat. Brigit kept gently questioning her as they approached the shelter. Piece by piece, Sparrow told the disjointed tale. People were being kidnapped off the streets. The kind of people no one would notice disappearing: the unwanted, runaways, people who fell through the cracks. The ones taking them were organized, efficient. What were they doing with them? If they were killing them they weren’t dumping the bodies in Chicago. There hadn’t been any uptick in the number of dead bodies found, Brigit would know about it. After the Monster of Chicago, unexplained deaths out in the streets would not go by unnoticed.
“Okay,” Brigit said. “Here’s what we’ll do.” She pulled up by the shelter. “I’m gonna get you in for the night. You’re gonna stay and get a proper night’s sleep and eat some hot food, and then tomorrow I’ll come back and get a full statement from you, okay?” She was hoping a night safely inside would put to rest some of Sparrow’s fear, and maybe she could get something more coherent out of her.
Sparrow looked out the window nervously, looking young for once. “I know you don’t like being inside all that much but it’s important and you care about this, right? You care about finding these people?” Sparrow nodded grudgingly. “Then you can stick it out one night.”
“Okay,” Sparrow said.
“They’re good people in here,” she said. “You’ve stayed here before; you know them. I remember you telling me about their mac and cheese Fridays”
Sparrow looked up at her from under her brown bangs. “But it’s Tuesday today.”
Brigit sighed. “Well maybe they do it on Tuesdays too. Come on, let’s go.”
Sparrow tucked her necklace under her shirt. She caught Brigit’s eye. “People like to take things.” Brigit shared a commiserating smile and they climbed out. She walked Sparrow right into the building, not trusting her to go there without an escort, and she watched as Sparrow joined the queue for food. Half an eye on her, Brigit made her way over to the volunteer in charge. “Hey, Cassie,” she said.
“Brigit,” the woman behind the counter greeted her, passing her ladle to one of the other volunteers and wiping her hands on a tea towel. “Been a while,” she said, tucking a stray strand of hair back behind the red scarf she had tied to keep it back. She looked beyond Brigit, over her shoulder. “Ah, I see Sparrow turned up again. How long is she staying this time?”
“Hopefully until tomorrow morning; I’m coming back to talk to her.”
Cassie glanced at her watch. “You know that’s only, like, six hours away, right?”
Brigit sighed. “These night shifts are killing me.”
Cassie laughed. “Tell me about it,” she said.
“You need something?” Cassie asked, glancing at the line that was forming behind Brigit, and Brigit cut straight to the chase,
“Sparrow mentioned something about people going missing. You heard anything about that?”
Cassie frowned. “We’ve only just come out of winter,” she said. “The unfortunate fact is, people die over the winter months, and it’s always the most vulnerable to go first. The cold is just too much for people to take when they don’t have somewhere to stay. But the shelters are always full up with anyone who can spend the night here instead of risking it out on the streets, so…” She sighed. “It’s been as busy as ever.” She frowned, “No, maybe there might be a few regulars gone missing.” She glanced at the line of volunteers. “I can ask around. People might have different faces they recognize.”
“Yeah,” Brigit said. “Please, that’d be a big help.”
Someone shouted Cassie’s name from in the kitchen.
“I’ve got to go,” she said, turning away.
Brigit scanned over the tops of people’s heads and caught sight of Sparrow settling down with a bowl in front of her. She smiled, glad to see at least one thing was going right, and walked back out to her car. She hesitated before getting in, tapping her keys on the roof. She had a hunch, and she hadn’t lasted this long as a cop without learning when to trust her gut.
Looking around, she saw an all-night diner on the corner. She walked over to it, tucking her hands deep into her coat pockets against the night chill. She wished she’d remembered to grab her gloves before rushing out of her apartment earlier.
In the diner, she ordered a coffee, wrapping her hands around the paper cup and adding what Dana always called a ridiculous amount of cream and sugar before walking slowly back over to the car. She climbed in and set the cup on the dashboard to cool enough that it wouldn’t scald the inside of her mouth when she drank it.
The coffee slowly cooled and Brigit slowly sipped as the minutes ticked by. She was down to the dregs when she saw Sparrow slipping out the side door of the shelter and disappearing into the alleyway. “God damn it, Sparrow,” Brigit muttered angrily, climbing out of the car and accidentally knocking the coffee cup over, spilling drips of cold coffee all over her knees. Swearing, she shook off the droplets and kicked the cup back into the dirty mess of the footwell to deal with later, before slamming the door and jogging toward the alleyway Sparrow had disappeared into.
The alley was dark, and Sparrow was nowhere to be seen. Brigit jogged to the end. Then, hoping she was right, she picked a direction. She chose the one that looked a little darker, heading away from the main street, guessing Sparrow would stick to the shadows.
The road was quiet, empty, and Brigit picked up her pace. She wished she’d just driven down instead of going after Sparrow on foot. She just hadn’t wanted to spook the woman a second time by turning up in the cop car. Brigit glanced from side to side. She couldn’t see any sign of Sparrow; she was going to have to give it up as lost. At least she could go back and speak to Cassie tomorrow. She was about to turn away when she heard a shout from the mouth of the next alley, and a clang, as if someone had been thrown into something metal.
Brigit tensed, her hand going to her waist. She gripped her gun, pulling it out and holding it by her side as she walked quickly forward. Flattening herself against the brickwork, she peeked around the corner.
Sparrow was on the far side of the alleyway, scrambling on the ground. A large man in black combat gear was on top of her, another man rocking backward against a dumpster. He must’ve made the noise she’d heard. His hand was gripping his nose.
“Hey,” Brigit shouted, stepping forward. “Stop, police.” She raised her gun but someone jumped out of the shadows at her, smacking her against the wall. Her hand struck the brickwork hard, and her gun went flying. Shit. She spun and came up kicking. The third man, the one who had hit her, was caught unawares and she struck out at his knee hard enough to break something. He cried out in pain and stumbled sideways.
“Get her,” the man Sparrow had thrown against the dumpster said, his voice muffled and thick. Sparrow must have broken his nose in the fight, Brigit thought with vicious satisfaction. “Get her in the fucking van,” he shouted to the one who had been grappling with Sparrow on the ground and was now dragging her up. As Brigit watched, Sparrow strained against his grip but her thin, wiry strength was nothing against his solid hold.
Brigit tried to see where her gun had gone, but in the shadows of the alleyway it was impossible to see. The one she’d kicked in the knee was up again, circling her warily. Damn. She’d really hoped she’d brought him down. She needed to do something now, while they were separated, but what? Sparrow was too far away, and she didn’t have her weapon.
“She’s a fucking cop,” Broken
Nose said, moving his hand away from his face. “She’s seen too much; we have to deal with her.”
That didn’t sound good.
Broken Nose reached round toward his back and Brigit’s blood ran cold as he pulled out a gun.
“Brigit, run,” Sparrow shouted. But Brigit had nowhere to go. As she watched, two more men climbed out of the van and helped load a struggling Sparrow in. The other man turned back toward Brigit.
“You sure about this?” he asked Broken Nose. “She’s a cop.”
Broken Nose stood with his gun trained solidly on her chest. “We don’t have a choice,” he said. “Nobody can know about this. We have to get rid of her,”
“You’ll pull down half the city on top of us.”
“So, we’ll make it look like a gang shooting,” Broken Nose said. “Plant the body somewhere. Nobody knows about us.” He stared at Brigit, his eyes full of cold, emotionless intent. “She has to die.”
Chapter 3
Rune was determined to get to the bottom of the strange feeling that had been winding throughout his dreams and waking days for the past few weeks; it had grown step-by-step, moment by moment, until he felt it every waking second.
He hoped he knew what it meant. Three of his fellow Shadows had found their soulmates here in Chicago. After hearing them talk of the strange sensation that drew them toward their fated partners, he had an idea what his dreams could be about. And yet such a thing seemed so impossible. So unbelievable. He couldn’t believe it was for him, that he could truly have a soulmate out there in this modern, unfamiliar world.
Rune was tired of dreaming, of longing. He needed to find this possible soulmate. This time, he was determined to pin the strange sensation down. He left the Sanctuary as the sun’s rays turned red-gold and night flooded in. Drifting through shadows, he followed the alluring scent that lingered, dreamlike, across the city. The aching void that had sat within Rune’s chest so long that he’d stopped noticing it was shifting, yearning for something, or someone. Rune had accepted his lack of heartbeat, the icy cold of his flesh, and the muting of his emotions as the price to pay when he became a vampire, but now it was as if his body was reawakening, his heart aching for something real and alive and vibrant to bring him back to life.