by Leanne Leeds
The two of us sat in the Jeep facing the office building. Yes, there probably were papers in there that would help us. And yes, we did come here to ransack the place. But those papers were likely in the same room with the conflicted couple, and it wasn’t worth it to put three people to sleep.
One person having a paranormal experience will think they imagined it.
Three people can compare notes.
Besides, remember when I said vampires could be helpful?
Vampires are telepathic. Like, hugely telepathic. They can read minds. Everyone knows they can read minds. But far lesser-known in the general para-population? They can create illusions in someone’s mind to trick them.
Yeah, I know. Crazy, right?
Honestly, I’ve always suspected the fear of vampires was due more to their telepathic skills than the whole blood drinking thing. Sure, no one wants to be a carbon-based cocktail, but being controlled by something else? If I had to choose one or the other, I’d prefer to be a cocktail.
People know they’ve been controlled, and they know who directed them, though. So vampires tended to leave that power in their back pocket.
I’m digressing here. Where were we?
Right. Sitting outside the office building. So, the one drawback to the vampire mental eavesdropping? They need physical proximity to the person’s mind they’re reading. Being close to the target was necessary to get good information, but right outside a building?
That was close enough.
“Her mind isn’t filled with all sorts of plans,” Rex explained, concentrating. “So, I can’t tell you what role she has to play in this, or even whether she has an active role. At least, not yet. I can tell you that she’s been deceiving you. The interview that she did this morning?” He glanced over. “That interview was her idea. She used it to get near you and Emma. Her primary goal was to be introduced to you both, not the article itself.”
“That had to be when Emma got dusted,” I guessed. “But why? Meryl Hawkins isn’t connected to any of these people. She’s, like, twenty years younger than Paul Wakefield. How did they even meet, much less start an affair?”
“I can’t tell you that yet,” Rex said. He frowned. “She’s not in love with that man. From what I can sense, she doesn’t even particularly like him.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean she’s part of the conspiracy, you know. If there even is a conspiracy. Which we still don’t know. Anyway, I don’t need a psychic to tell me that she’s power and money hungry.” I pointed. “He’s got both. Maybe this is nothing more than a social climber targeting a man that she thinks is ripe for the picking because he’s having marital issues.”
Rex looked at me. “You’re rather cynical about human motivation.”
“I am not,” I retorted. “I’m rather cynical about everyone’s motivation. Humans, vampires, witches, pixies. My cynicism does not discriminate.”
He gazed at me with a contemplative eye. I could sense the telepathic bloodsucker wanted to say something else. Still, before he could decide whether to speak, another impression grabbed his attention. “He’s not…wise to her,” Rex continued. “In fact, the man thinks the woman truly loves him, and he is torn by the memory of love for his wife and the current love he feels for her.”
“I wouldn’t think the head of a company would be that naive.” Maybe some adulterous secret affairs between younger women and rich older men worked out in the end. In my experience, though, they didn’t.
Um, not my personal experience.
I wouldn’t touch another woman’s husband with a ten-foot pole.
Not all of my fellow soldiers felt the same way.
Rex lifted his chin, his eyes fixed on the third-floor window. “He is naive, though,” the vampire disagreed. “This man is not savvy. Just listening to his thoughts the past few minutes, I’ve gotten a sense of him as a person.” He turned. “You say this man has been arrested for embezzling from this company?”
I nodded. “He hasn’t been indicted yet, but Emma thinks it’s only a matter of time. She talked to some investigators in Orlando earlier today.” I looked at my watch. “Well, yesterday now.”
“Paul Wakefield believes himself to be an honorable man.”
“Lots of dishonorable people believe themselves to be honorable. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It’s more than that. It’s something he works at, prides himself on. I get no sense of greed, no cunning. No avarice that would prompt him to risk prison for the accumulation of money.” Rex tilted his head. “He is quite satisfied with his life from a material standpoint. The only point of pain is a disintegrated romantic relationship with his wife. And his commitment toward his marriage hasn’t wavered.”
“I’d call having your hand down someone’s blouse that’s not your wife a wavering commitment, Rex.” I pointed. “You’re telling me the guy upstairs in his office having an affair and cheating on his wife believes himself to be honorable.” I rolled my eyes. “Are you sure your telepathic radar isn’t on the fritz? Or maybe he’s the delusional one.”
“Don’t believe so. I sense no mental illness.”
Exhaling, I glared at him. “You’re a psychiatrist now?”
“The woman personally resents you.”
That quick refocus caught me off guard. “What do you mean, personally resents me?”
“I don’t know. I can only follow her thoughts as she has them, and her mind is rather scattered. I sense in the woman—”
“Meryl,” I said helpfully. “Her name is Meryl Hawkins.”
“Meryl. Meryl Hawkins seems to thrive on instant gratification. She is unable to tolerate any frustration of her desires. Her mind has a tendency to flare, briefly, to rage.” Rex’s forehead furrowed. “If you’d asked me whether these two people belong together, I would never believe they had any kind of relationship. They are incredibly different.”
I stared at him. “You got all that in ten minutes?”
“I’m efficient.” Rex inclined his head in the passenger seat as he returned my stare. I wasn’t telepathic, but it seemed there was a story behind his efficiency he didn’t want to tell. “Let’s narrow down hard facts. You suspect the man might be behind the threat on Alice’s life?”
“I do. In fact, he’s the most logical suspect. He’s already been arrested, and he has the most to gain if Alice dies,” I explained. “Maybe he wants her dead because he embezzled and is about to get caught. Maybe she makes it more likely the company will hand over the evidence. Maybe he wants to be in sole control to keep that evidence from being handed over.” I shrugged. “Maybe he just wants all the money and all the control. Maybe he initially killed her parents because he was playing a long game, and this is just the final phase.” I shrugged again. “But yeah, he’s the most obvious suspect.”
“Or he was until the pixies jumped into this,” Rex pointed out. “And the litany of maybes? Not hard facts.”
“Maybe he’s working with the pixies.” Rex’s expression turned doubtful as I tossed another maybe on the pile. “What? You said you can only follow what he’s actively thinking of. Maybe he’s not actively thinking of the plot while making out with a woman twenty years his junior. You don’t know.” I leaned forward and glanced up to the third floor. “What I know is we can’t sit here all night eavesdropping.” We needed to go talk to Pistachio Waterflash.
“You want to go confront the male pixie?” Rex asked.
My eyes narrowed. Another of my military-issued uniform benefits—aside from comfort, moisture-wicking, and making my waist look tiny—was certain innate defenses woven into the very fabric itself.
One defense was supposed to be blocking vampire telepathy.
“How did you know that?” I asked uneasily.
“I can’t read your mind. If that’s what you’re asking.”
“I didn’t ask you that, did I?” I snapped. “I asked how you knew that.” Way to go, Astra. You didn’t sound defensive when you said that at
all.
“I didn’t know it. I suspected it. Hence, I asked a question and didn’t make a statement,” the vampire responded, his face a mask of expressionless mystery. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
I nodded and reached for the keys to start the Jeep.
“That pixie chieftain on the other hand,” he murmured, gazing out the window, “enjoys no such immunity.”
Back at the swamp.
This time in the middle of the night.
You know what’s most active between dusk and dawn in the miasma of stinky, sticky heat in the swamps of Florida?
Alligators.
In fact, it’s estimated there’s one alligator for every ten to fifteen people living in this steamy state. This ratio makes it just about impossible for someone living in Florida not to encounter an alligator at some point. It’s like living in Jurassic Park with shopping malls.
Something you will never hear in Florida on a date?
Let’s walk along the water’s edge.
At night, the fresh waters of Florida come alive with sounds—and you don’t necessarily know what’s making those sounds. That splash could be a turtle slipping into the water or an alligator rising out of it. Maybe a snake swimming directly toward you. That tiny whoosh of the wind you felt on your cheek? It could be a fly, or it could be a bat.
During the day, swamps were challenging to navigate.
At night, they were treacherous. Everything was wet, slippery. Muddy or wrapped in algae. It was difficult to see five feet in front of you, impossible to feel your way through when everything felt the same.
Damp. Wet. Gross. Threatening.
Dangerous.
“I’d be happy to carry you,” Rex offered quietly, a tinge of amusement on the edge of his words.
“That is so not gonna happen, vamp,” I told him and then grunted as I slipped. “I can make it through here just fine.” I wanted to kick myself for not grabbing a bottle of Althea’s “Cat’s Eye” potion before leaving the house.
How hard would it have been just to ask for the vial?
Not hard. Not hard at all.
More manageable than pulling my boot out of five inches of sucking mud.
I got my boot loose and picked my way forward, cursing my own foolishness. Aunt Gwennie was right. I did not, by default, think of my sisters for assistance or preparation. Thanks to that, I was quite literally groping through the darkness in an alligator-filled swamp.
How’s that for a metaphor?
I slipped again and cursed loudly.
“Astra, I can see in the dark. You, clearly, cannot. I’d like to claim the offer to carry you is meant to simply be charming and chivalrous, but it’s really out of concern for you,” the vampire told me evenly. “That uneven rock you’re stepping on?”
I froze. “Yes?”
“It’s an alligator snapping turtle. A rather large one, I might add. And he seems a bit annoyed at present.”
“Well, Rex, is it an alligator or a freaking snapping turtle?” I wiped the sweat from my brow. Reaching behind me, I hoped to find a tree to steady myself on so I could remove my foot from whatever life form I was unintentionally attacking. As my hand flailed, a cold hand grasped mine.
“It’s a turtle. Alligator snapping turtle, a species of freshwater turtle,” Rex said as if he were a middle school teacher leading a science field trip. “Lean on me and go backward,” Rex breathed. “That’s it. Use my hand for support to pull and just push back with your leg. I’ve got you.”
I didn’t really have a choice.
I couldn’t see a thing.
I followed his directions, pushed, and slammed into Rex with a dull thud. His arms wrapped around me quickly and lifted me up. “Yeah, I don’t need to be carried like some princess in a fairytale,” I protested, pushing against him. “Put me down. I can do this.”
“I’m not carrying you to protect you,” Rex responded. He took wide strides north quickly enough that the wind blew through my short hair. “I’m protecting all the alligator snapping turtles. They were over-harvested in the seventies, you know, so now they’re protected in Florida. I don’t want you splitting their shells with your boot as you stomp through.”
“I was not stomping.” I sniffed. “How do you know so much about Florida wildlife?”
“I grew up here. So did you. The better question might be how you don’t know.”
Insulting.
“Go that direction.” I pointed. “That’s where Emma and I—” Remembering that first encounter with Pistachio, his words played once again in my mind. “He mentioned Ebony. Pistachio Waterflash mentioned Ebony, but Ebony was with the rebel pixies.” I frowned. “Whose side is she on?”
“Who’s Ebony?”
I frowned. “You know, this was all a lot easier when we could just imprison people for interacting with humans as an out paranormal. I could’ve had this guy in a cell in Impy in a day. Since he’s seven inches tall, it wouldn’t have taken up much room. I could’ve transported him in an enchanted shoe box.”
“Miss the old authoritarian regime, do we?” Rex asked, sounding amused.
“Come on, you have to admit acting with impunity is certainly easier. I could have had you arrested for carrying me like a sack of oatmeal.” I snapped. “Just like that.”
“You’re heavier than a sack of oatmeal,” Rex informed me.
“Rude.”
Suddenly we slammed into a tree. Or what felt like a tree. I flew out of Rex’s arms and rolled into the sticky mud. The vampire must’ve gone flying, but he reoriented himself so quickly that I was back in his arms before the fading momentum brought me to a halt.
“Now you brought a vampire into my swamp?” a stern male voice, incensed, shouted at me. My eyes scanned the darkness, but I could see nothing. “Are you completely out of your mind? First, you bring a murderous owl, and now a vampire. What’s next? Did you bury a kraken egg somewhere?”
Rex held me tight in his arms as Pistachio Waterflash ranted and raved.
“Is he alone?” I whispered, frustrated I couldn’t see.
“He appears to be,” Rex whispered back.
I reached into my tool belt and pulled out a light stone.
Yes, I know what you’re thinking. Why did I fumble my way through the swamp if I had a light stone tucked in my belt?
Well, first, I didn’t want to announce our exact location even if the pixies were likely aware of our presence in their territory. Second, alligators have sharp above-water vision, and I didn’t feel like giving them a bull’s-eye.
I like my hand, thanks.
Pistachio could encourage the alligators to converge on our position and attack Rex and me if he felt like it. Whatever else was going on, this swamp was still pixie territory, and he was still the chieftain. My inability to see was now more of a hindrance than the target I would give the gators.
Just to be safe, though, I tossed it a body length away between Waterflash and me.
I’m not stupid.
The rock glowed white-pink, and the pixie’s red hair flared brightly in the darkness. “Are you trying to challenge my authority here? I told you once. You’re not welcome here. You’re certainly not welcome here dragging a vampire behind you.” Pistachio roared. I noted that his full-size body had expanded. Hence, he was slightly taller than Rex—even though he hadn’t been in our previous encounter.
“I don’t care about your authority, the pixies, or anything other than Emma and Alice right now.” Rex gently lowered my feet to the ground so I could stand and deliver whatever speech was about to come while on my feet. He stayed so close. I could feel his body pressed against my back.
I didn’t mind.
Alligators were fast.
Vampires were faster.
“Emma and Alice are fine. They’re under my protection,” Pistachio said, pulling his shoulders back like a king. “No harm will come to them.”
“That’s such bull. Emma and Alice are in my house, and you coul
dn’t even get past the curb if you tried. So, chieftain, let’s cut the crap.” I crossed my arms. “Why have you drugged them? And why are they asleep?”
“They sleep during the night, obviously, because that’s when female power is heightened.” The pixie sighed with such pent-up frustration it was like my questions were the most he’d ever been put upon for anything in his entire life. “They follow me, a male pixie. Not the female pixies. It keeps them isolated from the extra female energy.”
“So, what you’re saying is that for women to continue to like you, you have to put them in a coma and isolate them from their women’s intuition?” I asked him. His face cracked into a furious mask. “To tell you the truth, I could see that.”
“I am Chieftain here!”
“You keep saying that,” I nodded. I pointed to Rex. “Well, he’s not chieftain. But he is Emma’s brother, and Emma didn’t choose to follow you. So, out with it, pixie. Why did you forcefully drug a Forkbridge detective against her will?”
His face lost some of its lofty scorn. “But I didn’t,” he said, stepping back. For the first time, the arrogant pixie looked unsure of himself.
“I was here. I saw you touch her, and then she suddenly started thinking you were the best thing since sliced bread.” I stepped forward. “Are you telling me you didn’t sprinkle your stupid pixie dust crap on her?”
The harsh light of the rock painted the pixie’s face in brightness and shadow. Pistachio suddenly looked fearful. “But I’m telling you the truth. I did nothing to Emma. You were here the entire time! I would never give anyone the dust without their consent,” he told me, his eyes widening. “I couldn’t!”
Rex leaned down. “He’s telling the truth. Alice wanted the dust. He doesn’t know what you’re talking about with regards to Emma.”
I stared at the pixie, breathing in the wet, heavy air. Unless Rex was part of this whole conspiracy, I had to trust what he said. But that…that made no sense.
Unless the rebel pixies were lying.
“And what about Meryl Hawkins?” I asked.
“She’s simply a follower, Arden,” Pistachio responded. “A recent one, to be sure, but she, too, wanted to join the group.”