by Jess Haines
Sara thought I should come clean to my parents about everything that had happened, including why I’d hidden from them that Chaz was Were. I thought that was crazy talk. My parents were no doubt both furious with and worried about me. I was not in the frame of mind to deal with my mom’s hysterics, and likely wouldn’t be for quite a while.
Finally, the two of us came to an uneasy peace; we’d figure it out later. We went back to packing.
A pounding on the door jerked me out of my funk. Sara shot me a look from across the room, hands paused over the books she’d been skimming on my shelf.
I got up from the table where I’d been sorting through some papers and peered through the peephole in the door. There were two men I didn’t recognize outside. When I pulled the door open, leaving the chain on, one of them held up a badge for inspection.
“Ms. Waynest? I’m Detective Terry Smith, and this is Detective Yarmouth.”
Police. The perfect end to a perfect day. I unlocked the chain and opened the door all the way, gesturing them inside. “Let me guess. You guys saw the morning paper.”
The officer smiled at me, his eyes a flinty gray that reminded me too much of Max Carlyle. I looked away and edged over to the kitchen table, settling into a seat. The officers remained standing, both of them eyeing their surroundings. Smith shared a look with the other detective once he spotted Sara across the room.
“Ah, Ms. Halloway is here, too? That’s good. Saves us a trip.” Detective Smith tucked his badge away and pulled out a pad and a pen, glancing between us. “We can keep this short and sweet, if you like. Is there anything you’d like to tell us about the evidence Mr. Pradiz presented in the paper today?”
“I think it speaks for itself,” I stated sourly, rubbing self-consciously at the cuts on my arm. “I’d like to press charges, too.”
“We’ll get to that. Can you identify the Other-citizen responsible?”
“His name is Dillon. Charles Hallbrook can tell you where to find him.”
“Thank you. We’ll follow up on that. In the meantime, we wanted to let you know that we’ll be examining the documentation and photographs that Mr. Pradiz collected and plan to proceed accordingly. We’d appreciate it if you would keep this out of the press as much as possible as the investigation is still pending. We don’t want to bias every potential juror in the county.”
“It’s a little late for that.”
“You can prevent any more details from being leaked.”
I nodded, fiddling nervously with a napkin. Though they hadn’t questioned me about it, I had no doubt they’d find out about the hissy fit I’d had, the property I’d technically stolen and destroyed, along with all the other stupid crap that had happened this weekend.
“Ms. Waynest, Ms. Halloway, we believe there may be some danger to your persons and wanted to suggest you find a safe place to stay until the worst of this blows over. We’ve had problems in the past with disappearing witnesses; we don’t want that to happen to you.”
“Great,” I said hollowly. Lovely. Arnold’s earlier words were now confirmed by an irrefutable source. Just another reason to feel inadequate as an investigator and wronged by my decidedly ex-lover. I didn’t have time for self-pity, and I forced myself to pay attention to the rest of the conversation.
“She’ll stay with me,” Sara said, her tone brooking no refusal.
“That may not be wise, ma’am. You may be called as a witness, too. We need both of you to stay somewhere safe until the trial is over.”
“Are you taking us into protective custody?” I asked, straightening in alarm. “A witness protection program or something?”
The officer rubbed the back of his neck. “Due to budget cuts and a lack of foundation in this aspect of the case, we haven’t been able to get the approval rushed through yet. For the time being, until we can, we strongly suggest you get out of here and find a place to stay where you won’t be found. A hotel might do the trick. Don’t tell any friends or family where you are. If you can afford it, take some time off from work. And stay in touch with us.” He offered a business card, which I barely glanced at before stuffing it in my pocket. “We can call you in when it’s time, or when the approval to put you under official protection goes through.”
“This isn’t an official visit, is it?” I asked.
Smith reddened, sharing a significant look with Yarmouth before answering me. “No. Can we trust you?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Can we trust you?” he repeated, darting a furtive look at Sara.
“We can keep a secret, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sara replied, puzzled.
Yarmouth kept his voice low and conspiratorial. We had to lean in to hear him properly, he spoke so quietly. “In his way, Jim did you a favor. Earlier today he sent us copies of all the material he had gathered, along with some extra info on your connections to the Sunstrikers. This is our case, but someone’s been doing their best to sabotage it. We’ve lost a few witnesses in this investigation already. We can’t afford to lose any more. All of this is completely off the record; we were never here. And since that’s the case, I can also tell you that you may want to hurry; there are a few other officers from a different bureau planning to speak with and possibly detain Ms. Waynest. Stay out of any places where your information might be traced. No hospitals, no credit cards, no cell phones. Get it?”
Sara and I shared a look. This wasn’t good news—not that I’d had much of that the last few days anyway, but this made things even more difficult and convoluted than they already were. Funny to think that the reporter had been looking out for me, in his way, even if it took destroying my personal life to do it.
“Thank you, officers,” Sara said. “We’ll get back to you as soon as we’ve found a place to stay.”
They nodded, heading for the door. “Don’t tell us where you are. Just let us know you got there safely and check in every few days.”
“Will do,” I promised.
As soon as they were out the door, I leapt into action.
“Damn it, Shia, where are we going to go?” Sara asked, following me into my room. She slammed her palm against the wall, gritting her teeth as she spotted the picture of Chaz I’d been glaring daggers at earlier. “I can’t believe he’d stoop so low. We can’t go to my house, or my sister Janine’s, Arnold’s, or your parents’ place. I’m not camping out at the office, and I can’t leave the dogs behind. Where the hell are we going to go? How are we going to get any work done?”
“Let me think a minute,” I replied, though a hazy idea was already forming in my mind.
I didn’t have enough cash to pull off a disappearing act until this blew over. Sara might, but most likely she kept the bulk of her money in the bank, which meant any transaction could be traced and lead authorities—or the Sunstrikers, if any of them were savvy or connected enough—right to us.
If the cops were that sure there would be retaliation for being a victim or a witness or whatever the Sunstrikers thought of me, I wasn’t going to sit around and wait to be found. Undoubtedly, they’d eventually come across me if I stayed in the city. No matter what, I’d make it as tough on them as I could. If they came looking for a helpless human, then I’d do my best to pull together all the firepower I could muster. Since we couldn’t go to my family or Sara’s for help, and had little money, our options for running were extremely limited.
That left us with only one place to go that might be (relatively) safe.
Sara watched in confusion as I tore through my closet, shoving things around—until I found the body armor made to ward off vampire and werewolf attacks buried in the back. I tossed it on the bed, soon followed by my combat boots, trench coat, matched guns, extra ammo, and the hunter’s belt. Next came the Amber Kiss perfume I’d hidden under the sink in the bathroom, designed to make me smell less like food to Others. I wrapped the fragile vials in a towel and placed them carefully on top of everything else.
Sara eyed the pil
es curiously but said nothing. All of it was shoved unceremoniously into a duffel bag slung over my shoulder. She followed as I grabbed my purse off the table and, as an afterthought, plucked my rolodex off my desk and tossed that in my duffel as well.
She gave me a look when I tucked the mostly empty whiskey bottle into my duffel, too.
We trekked down to my car, tossing everything in the back. Sara got into the driver’s seat without asking, and I didn’t question it. Jingling the keys, she glanced at me. “Any ideas yet?”
“Yeah. Let’s go pick up some stuff for you. I think I know where to go from there.”
It didn’t take long to get to Sara’s cute little brick number tucked away in one of New York’s most excellent examples of upper-middle-class suburbia. Her dogs, Buster and Roxie, had their paws up between the slats of the white picket fence, tails going a mile a minute as they barked a furious storm in greeting.
Sara threw together a suitcase with enough clothes and necessities to keep her going for a week or two. She made a few calls, including one to Jen telling her to take a couple of paid days off, which made me cringe. I’d pulled in a lot of dough doing that job for The Circle last year, but reserves were running low, and there was no guarantee we’d be able to pull off working any jobs until the worst of this mess was over. Aside from which, I wasn’t sure how I’d be able to operate now that my face had been plastered on a leading newspaper, no doubt to follow soon on the Internet. That was sure to hamper my undercover work, just as the media coverage after the incident with Royce and Max Carlyle had resulted in a couple of jobs where my cover had been unwittingly blown by curious bystanders and, in one memorable instance, the mark himself recognizing me.
That was a problem for later. For now, I had Sara at my back. Depending on her was something I’d normally rail against, but for now I was willing to make an exception. There were too many variables and too many immediate troubles to let my pride get in the way of our safety.
The dogs were a bit of a problem. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but we put the backseats down and let the dogs ride in the bed of my SUV. They kept shoving their heads between the seats and slobbering on me until I opened the back windows so they could stick their heads out instead.
Sara let me take the wheel this time. As I headed toward 495, she cleared her throat, breaking what I came to realize had become an increasingly tense silence between us.
“I take it you’ve got an idea of where to go now?”
I noted the angle of the sun before answering her, tightening my grip on the wheel. “Yes. You’re not going to like it.”
She snorted, waving at the traffic around us. “This isn’t exactly how I envisioned spending my day, Shia. I suppose it beats doing more surveillance on the Riker case, but we’re going to have a lot of pissed off clients and demands for refunds soon if we don’t come up with a plan. Hiding somewhere for months or years until this trial is over doesn’t strike me as a great way to keep the business going. Plus, I’m not sure how we’re going to pull off staying hidden while keeping the company’s doors open.”
“I have an idea,” I said, keeping focused on the traffic ahead. “We just need to last a month outside of the office. Until I know for sure what will happen to me.”
When I glanced over, her skin had taken on a touch of that sickly pallor she’d had earlier. She audibly swallowed before answering me. “Okay. Until then?”
“Until then, we stay with Alec Royce.”
Chapter 29
Sara spluttered, something that I’d never seen her do before. It was comical enough to make me laugh, even given how shitty my mood had become.
“Are you joking? What the fuck are you thinking?”
“No, I’m serious. He owes me for saving his life. He’s no more dangerous than waiting around my apartment for one of the Sunstrikers to come finish what they started, and more likely to be able to protect you if I start changing.” Sara sobered, but she still looked ill, and she fidgeted nervously with her lap belt. “You’re not contracted, and as long as you hold your ground, never will be. His place is practically a fortress, and every vampire in it is prepared to defend it. With John and Max gone, it’s probably the safest place for us to hide without having to leave the state.”
“But what about you? You’re contracted to him. He might not want you around if you’re … if you …”
“No,” I said shortly. “He might not. I already talked to him early this morning, though. He’s also got some ideas on how to handle this mess.” Ideas I wouldn’t share with Sara until I’d made my choice.
She nodded, fiddling with the strap of her purse now. I was tempted to slap at her hands to make her stop, but her worry was understandable. She was rarely this nervous; I was more used to seeing this kind of behavior out of her neurotic sister, Janine.
“He lives by Central Park, too, which is Moonwalker territory. The Sunstrikers don’t come by here often, so as long as we don’t stray too far we should be fairly safe.”
“Has Royce agreed to this?”
“I haven’t asked him yet.”
She quieted again, and the tension in the air crept up a notch. I was too on edge not to react; the words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop myself. “For fuck’s sake, Sara, he’s not the Antichrist. He’s been the most decent man—creature—whatever, that I’ve dealt with since the shit hit the fan. I’m sure he won’t mind helping us out here.”
“That’s funny, coming from you,” she said, too flatly for me to take offense. “A couple months ago, you would’ve cut off your own hands before driving to see him. What changed?”
“Fuck if I know,” I snarled, fingers tightening on the wheel until the rubber Tinkerbell cover slipped off. I scrabbled at it until it snapped back into place, cursing under my breath. Then slammed on the brakes when I realized the guy in front of me had come to a sudden stop, prompting more cursing and a one-finger salute from me.
“Do you need me to drive?”
“No!” I shouted. After a few deep breaths, I managed a much calmer reply. “No. Sorry. It’s been an incredibly shitty day. Why am I telling you this? You already know.”
“Getting in an accident won’t make it better.”
“I’ll be careful,” I said, settling back and rolling my shoulders to help ease out the tension. “Sara, really, I’m sorry. I’m not thrilled about this either, but it’s the best idea I can come up with on short notice. Maybe we can find someone else to stay with later. At least for now, he’s someone who can provide us shelter and protection.”
“Never thought I’d hear those words used in conjunction with a vampire.”
“Pulling out the fancy lawyer-talk on me, eh?”
A short laugh escaped her, though I could tell she hadn’t meant to let it slip. Some of her nervousness was easing off. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t make me go all devil’s advocate on you.”
If she knew the real reason I thought staying with Royce was a good idea, she’d have been wrestling me for control of the wheel. For now, I relaxed and followed the path burned into my memory from the day I’d first visited Royce’s home.
He owned a small apartment building half a block from Central Park that housed the closest and most trusted or valuable members of his “family,” plus the humans he’d once offhandedly mentioned were closest to being turned by him or one of the other vampires in the building. I’d met most of them during my stay while the bond between us wore off, though I’d made no special effort to get to know them. I wasn’t even sure I remembered all of their names; unless they were guarding me, they were the least of my concerns at the time.
If I was lucky, there would be space for Sara and me to stay for a while. A couch to crash on, at the very least. Royce had often extended the offer to me to return to his side, though I’d made efforts to ignore it—until now. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind my dropping in and wouldn’t have a problem with Sara, or her dogs, tagging along.
I was lucky enough to find parki
ng directly across the street from Royce’s home. We left the dogs and the bags in the car while we went to test the waters and find out if we were welcome to stay.
The apartment building didn’t look anything like you’d expect from a vampire den. With the white shutters and brick façade, not to mention the roses entwined through the iron-and-brick fencing surrounding the property, it looked more like a bunch of families with kids should be calling the place home. That it housed over a dozen vampires, and another dozen human servants, was enough to make me shiver once we passed into the shadow of the building.
Though the sun was still high in the sky when we arrived, I wasn’t surprised a vampire was pulling guard duty, seated in the shadows at the back of the windowless foyer. He looked up from the paperback he was reading, puzzlement reflecting in his gaze before he rose from his seat at the table covered with in-baskets for tenant mail. I recognized his angular, handsome features, and took his offered hand.
“Shiarra, I remember you. Good to see you again.”
“Hi, Wes. This is my business partner, Sara Halloway.”
The vampire took her hand as well, and she did an admirable job of hiding her uncomfortable flinch at his touch. Wes’s pale blue eyes locked onto her throat, and I was sure he’d detected her heart rate speeding up out of what I hoped was fear.
Like most of the vampires in the building, Wes was (pardon the pun) drop-dead gorgeous. With his killer physique, short blond hair, and neatly trimmed goatee, he looked like he would’ve made a handsome and dashing hero for the latest Hollywood summer blockbuster. Or maybe he would’ve played the part of a pillaging Viking warrior who left mayhem and murder in his wake. I cleared my throat to pull his attention off Sara and held my ground despite the fact that his pupils had taken on a reddish tint.