I stepped out of the car and glanced at him. “You said people leave during the tests. What tests?”
He lifted an incredulous brow. “The Games? The Trials, the turmoils, the agonies? Agoge as the Spartans would have put it? The prep takes a solid year, practically sequestered from the real world.”
Color rushed to my face, and I gazed down. “Oh, the Cup. I thought you meant… never mind. Yeah, I did the prep. We got sequestered at the end of college. I started, but didn’t get a chance to finish.” The raw feelings of that day came out of nowhere–the pain of the news of my parents’ deaths and the desperation to get to Will, even though I knew I was throwing everything away to do it. You never got a second chance once the Cup started. Doubled by the memories of Devon’s judgment earlier, my eyes stung with unshed tears. I took a deep breath, determined they wouldn’t fall.
“I know what the ring means to people. Trust me–I’m the only scion at the department who didn’t get my ring.” After a quick step, I added, “But my mom came in thirtieth, her year. Of course, she was much older after the Reclamation when they were still testing people of all ages.” I don’t know why I felt I had to justify my lack of a ring with my mom’s, but Devon’s words still stung.
Carson kept silent for several steps before responding. “I’d give you my ring if I felt that meant anything to you. Doesn’t matter, really. You’re doing more than any of the best scions I’ve met in the last few decades.” He paused a step, catching what he’d just said, and cleared his throat. “Never mind. We have work to do.”
I let him take the lead for a few steps. Words failed me. The praise of a practical stranger shouldn’t matter, but it did. At least someone kind of understood.
Scanning around, I returned to the strangely easier conversation of my potential stalker. “I don’t think he’d hurt Will. Curtis, I mean. He’s known him since Will was born, but I can’t take the chance. When we leave here, we’ll go to Devon’s until he and Nadia leave that damn conference room and can lend a hand. Right now, let’s see if we can sweet talk our way into some unwarranted confidential files.”
“You know where Nadia and Devon are?” Carson’s surprise was clear. I guess she didn’t let him peek on her like Devon allowed me. Maybe there was a chink in their relationship after all.
He recovered his calm quickly. “And talking isn’t the hard part,” Carson quipped. “Determining whether the information we find is actually germane? That’ll be a trick.”
Squaring my shoulders, I strolled beside Carson into the heart of the DEC and to the elevators. I tried to exude my normal “take no prisoners” attitude, but my heart was beating fast; I was sure any vampire we came into contact with would know something was up. Probably any shifter, too.
I had to slow my heart rate. Taking deep breaths, I changed my thoughts to now. Here and now, I was in charge. Here and now, I could work on the problem. Nothing else mattered. I continued to focus until a calm stole into my body, and my heart followed suit. At least the more day-to-day officers weren’t in the lower subbasements where most of the vamps worked.
As we exited the elevator on floor SB1 and entered the archives, I plastered on my usual smirk and made my way to the last desk on the left. The place was freezing and stank of computer exhaust, disinfectant, and old coffee. It was uncomfortable and gave the feeling of something unreal, but it all was set to keep the precious in-house, non-networked servers running at their peak.
Selma tapped away with incredible speed on her computer. Her lean build was made for much better tailored clothes than her off-the-rack skirt suit revealed. Her blonde hair was cropped short around her ears, but her eyes were what kept her social calendar packed. Elongated and sparkling green, they widened at seeing me. My green eyes would never be that big or alluring, no matter the amount of make-up I put around them.
A Cheshire grin spread along her full lips. “Hey there, Ro, what brings you down to my playground?” Pushing back from the desk, she languidly stretched her muscles from their typing position. Her eyes flicked to Carson and narrowed just a bit. “And what morsel is this?”
My smirk grew into a smile then returned as soon as I caught myself. I grabbed a couple of chairs from the wall and set them close to her desk. She bristled at the invasion of her space, but didn’t stop us.
Motioning to Carson as I took the close seat, I said, “This is Carson Holt on loan to us from Toronto. Carson, this is Selma Sangino.”
Carson extended a hand to Selma. She stared at him less like a person and more like dinner.
“Pleasure,” Carson chimed, ignoring her glare.
After finally shaking hands, Selma sat back in her seat, her posture much taller than before. Her eyes ping-ponged back and forth between the two of us as she produced a tooth-filled smile.
“Where’s Birdie, your usual partner in crime?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes at her. “Lyle is working another angle on this murder case we’re tracking.” I shook my head and I squinted at her. “And my partner is not a snack.”
She laughed a deep throated chuckle, but relaxed as I hoped she would. “No promises, Ro. What can I do for you? You only venture here when you need something others don’t want you to have.”
With as subtle a glance around as I could muster, I leaned in closer. “I need a discrete favor from your awesome computer prowess without a requisition or warrant.”
She stayed very still and stared at me. I hated when she did that. It was like she was weighing something inside me that I couldn’t even feel. I shifted in my seat.
“And why, pray tell, can we not get a requisition?” she said.
“Because if I’m wrong, I’ll look stupid and could end up at the wrong end of the Basement’s attention.” I hadn’t wanted to bring in the higher ups, but if she did this favor, it was only fair to let her know where the danger was coming from.
The color drained from her face, and she leaned in closer. I could see the reasons to turn me down fighting with our friendship. “Rowan…”
I put my hand on her well-manicured one. I knew her history, and what I was about to pull wasn’t fair, but I didn’t know anyone else who worked as well as she did on this stuff. “Selma, girls are dying. Young girls. I need to follow any available lead before there are more.”
The complaints froze on her lips. Pain filled her eyes. I hated myself for pushing her.
“I know you can do it, and you’re the only one who can get me ahead of this creep fast enough.” There, a little tip for her ego.
She glanced away from me and stared at the stack of files making a home on her otherwise-immaculate desk. “I’m not saying I’ll do it, but tell me what you need.”
“I need you to search through the list of vampires who have applied for a scion and have been rejected in the last, um, five years. And I need you to cover your tracks and not tell anyone you’re doing it.”
Selma bore holes into Carson’s soul then turned her attention back to me. “Level with me, Ro. How bad is it?”
I sighed. Here and now, remember, Rowan? I bowed my head, but gazed up at her through my lashes. “It’s bad, Selma. Real bad. I wish I could unsee what I’ve seen. This guy needs to be ended.”
She put her hand on my forearm and squeezed. “Give me a bit. I’ll get it for you.”
“Thanks, Selma. We’ll wait. Come grab a bite when you’re done.”
After two hours and four cups of crap coffee, Carson and I left the DEC, an unread folder in hand. Selma may have thought she was God’s gift to us mere mortals, but sometimes she was as good as her ego.
hecking the clock, I cursed and peeled the car out of the lot to the blaring of horns from oncoming traffic. My tires and brakes were hating me at this point.
“Will gets out of school soon. If I hurry, I can drop you at Devon’s to start going over this stuff and get there in time to pick him up.”
Carson kept quiet, but grasped the handle again.
Shortly after three, I
pulled up to gate in front of Devon’s estate and punched in the code. Pulling into my usual spot, I grabbed my bag and the file and raced up the steps. To my surprise, Will rode around the pool on some kind of powered scooter. I checked my watch again. He shouldn’t be off school for another thirty minutes. Something had happened.
“Will!” I yelled as I headed toward him.
Shahid intercepted me before I could take three steps. “Ro, the school called. I got him myself.”
Fear sliced through me. “Why did he need to leave early?” I should have warned Shahid about Curtis. I’d kill Curtis if he had upset Will.
“Ro, did you see me riding?” Will’s excited voice pushed Shahid aside with a sigh better than my look had.
Once he was past the security expert’s stocky form, I saw my brother. His pale, slightly underweight, ten-year-old body bounced with excitement. He put the left side of his face in my stomach for a full-forced hug. For a moment, I rested my hand on his perpetually messy, reddish hair, gazing down into his bright, hazel eyes that gazed up at me. A rush of love instantly warmed me, and my mouth curved into a smile. Even my shoulders relaxed, letting the stress go for just a moment.
But that’s all it lasted. When he turned his full face up to me, his left eye was swollen and black, and his right hand was wrapped in a bandage.
I hit my knees and reached for him, dropping the files to the ground. “Will”–I pulled him close to examine his injuries–“what happened?”
His excitement drained from him. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He tried to pull away, but I held him still.
“William Cole Brady, tell me what happened, or I’m calling your school right now.”
He wilted. “It’s not a big deal. I took care of it. Jackson and Daniel were saying stuff about you, and I told them to stop. They didn’t.”
I didn’t need the rest of the story. It wasn’t the first time in the last three years. I glanced at Shahid, who had the decency to look sheepish.
“Will, it doesn’t matter what they said. You can’t start fights,” I said.
He pulled away and stepped back onto his own two feet, standing tall. “They can’t call you those things. It’s not true. I’m glad Daniel lost a tooth. Serves him right.” His small face appeared older as his eyes grew hard, and he crossed his arms over his chest. My protector in action. Thoughts of lawsuits filled my head. I loved him, but I had to get him to understand he didn’t need to protect me.
Shahid stepped up. “I straightened everything out with the school and the parents. I informed them it would be in their best interest not to make an issue of this for you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I bet you did. God, Shahid, you can’t–”
Will cut her off. “And then he took me to get ice cream and to buy the new scooter. He said him and Devon were proud of how well I did against two bigger boys. Did you see me riding it? I’ve already learned some tricks. Come see.”
Straightening up, I forced a smile onto my face. He was excited, and it wasn’t his fault the two grown men were too stupid to realize a scooter was not the proper response to a fight. “I saw. I’ll watch you do some tricks later. Go practice now, so I can get some work done.”
“Okay. Who’s that, Ro?”
I turned to my fellow scion. “That’s Mr. Holt. He’s working with me. You’ll meet him more around dinner. Go on now.”
With a quick wave and smile to Carson, he raced back to his new toy.
I lifted my eyebrow to Shahid. “A new scooter for getting in trouble and starting a fight at school?”
He ducked and shrugged his shoulders. “He did well. Anyway, the scooter was Devon’s idea.”
“I bet it was. He can’t buy Will. He knows that, right? And why the hell did you call Devon about Will and not me?”
“Ro, I had to let him know what happened. He said you were on your way but were working on something important and were not to be interrupted. I had planned on briefing you when you got here, and now you’re here.”
Shahid was always caught between Devon and me, and it wasn’t fair. I leaned against the wall and put my head back. If I stayed in this position too long, I was going to fall asleep standing.
The big guy stood in front of me. “He’s all right. Fights happen. He did well.” He gave me a once over. “You, on the other hand, look like hell. I’ll get the kitchen to hurry dinner.”
“We have work to do. Will’s going to stay here for a bit, if you don’t mind.” I held my head in my fingertips. The long days and nights were catching up.
“Mind? This house is so much better when you’re here. I’ll go tell the staff the good news.” With one last squeeze, he gave Carson a nod and strode toward the kitchen.
I glanced at Carson. Without enthusiasm, I asked, “Ready to get to work?”
He stared at the doorway Will had disappeared into. “You’ve done an excellent job. Don’t let go of that.”
Worry filled my stomach. “I don’t plan to.” What the hell was wrong with scions up north? “Let’s start with the new reports and work backward.”
Moving off the wall, I wavered as the world spun. Carson put an arm out and caught me, though I’d found my footing again.
He shook his head. “We’re both dead on our feet. We need sleep, or we’ll never have the brainpower to put our nefarious plots together.”
I bent and retrieved the files, hiking their weight further up into my arms. I had to be honest: I wasn’t sure I’d be able to think, let alone read any more. “Okay. Catnaps, then we nail this bastard.”
he smell of Marie’s brown stew woke me. Every part of me was still sore, but it was hard to be in a bad mood with such heavenly scents going through the house. There were some benefits to Devon’s household, his cook being the biggest one.
After fixing the bed and freshening up with the extra toothbrush kept in the guest bedroom, I followed the sounds of the household and ended up in the kitchen. Shahid and Will were sitting in the round breakfast nook playing cards on the polished wood table while Marie scurried around, fussing over the different bits for dinner. My mouth watered as the smell of homemade bread joined the stew.
As I strolled in, Marie turned from the refrigerator with a glass of milk and an understanding smile. “Here you go, dear.” Her round cheeks softened the smile lines around her eyes and mouth. She and her husband had worked for Devon all their lives, taking over for her parents when they’d passed. I had worried they were enthralled or some crap like that, but she’d seemed content to remain exactly where she was.
A glance at the clock gave me pause as I realized I’d missed my two hour wakeup mark by three hours. “Why didn’t you wake me?” I downed the cold drink and moved to the fridge to get a bottle of water to follow it with. My mouth still felt like I’d eaten a cotton ball.
Shahid didn’t even glance up from his cards. “Because you needed the sleep, and none of us wanted to face you cranky.”
Will giggled.
I raced over and grabbed him from behind into a tight hug. “And you were in on this?”
He grinned and kissed my chin with a giggle.
“Well, I’d better go get the Mounty up, so we can get to work,” I said.
“Mr. Holt has been up and in the study for an hour and a half,” Shahid informed me.
Embarrassed, I turned on my heel and left the room with Marie’s, “I’ll bring your trays in about fifteen minutes,” following me out.
The pencil-pusher was up before me. I wasn’t sure my ego could take a blow like that.
Entering Devon’s public study (his private one was downstairs, attached to his room), I found Carson had taken over the space and spread papers out everywhere. He was leaned over the ones on the coffee table, though he stood up when I entered the room.
“Good evening, Rowan. Sleep well?”
“Too well,” I muttered as I joined him and sighed. Our papers had multiplied.
“A courier arrived with the files from L
ieutenant Keller while we were down. I’ve been trying to search for any patterns among the victims.”
I noted his organization and the frustration level he exuded. “Not as easy as it seems, is it?”
A sheepish grin crossed his face while he ran his hand over his hair. “I used to watch a lot of the crime shows before the Reclamation. They always made it seem that if you arranged the evidence just right, the answer would pop out at you.”
“I wish. So, what have you found?”
He led me around his handiwork. “I’ve laid them out with the three victims’ files on separate, big tables. The first on the coffee table, the second on the sidebar, and the last, the one we went to, on the desk.”
As we paced past, I noticed that reports, as well as pictures, had been organized into informational themes. One group was dedicated to information and photos of the murder weapon, the athame. Another focused on the body placement and separate head where applicable. The last on each table had maps of locations and victim bios. I tried not to examine them too hard. There would be plenty of time for things I couldn’t unsee.
“And did you notice anything?” I asked.
“I’ve taken the list your records keeper–the feline one, I think–gave us.”
It took me a second to realize he was talking about Selma. “Yeah, she’s a feline shifter. Good eye.”
“She made it hard to miss. I looked at the addresses of the vampires who applied for scions and were rejected. It was too long; there’s such a demand. So, I separated them by male and female and have been concentrating on the male section of the list.”
“Good idea. By the odds, male vampires tend to prefer female scions.”
“On the whole, yes, but so far, I can’t find any connections between all the victims.”
I traveled to each of the different tables. Taking them in turn, I picked up the one-sheets for each report. It wasn’t much, but it was the only way I could learn about these different women. None of them lived in the same subdivision or general area. They were from all over Chicago, and taking into account their professions and schooling, they were even more diverse.
Of Scions and Men Page 11