“Yes,” I said.
“Bullshit, bullfuckingshit.”
“Believe what you want, Sheriff. I’ve told you and your people the absolute truth. I could make stuff up, if it would make you happier.”
He looked past me to Micah. “I like to see a man’s eyes when I talk to him, take off the glasses.”
Shit. Micah looked at me, and I looked at him. I shrugged. “Patterson has never actually asked what Micah does for a living. He’s been too busy trying to get Micah to admit that he’s a stripper, or a homosexual, to worry much about the facts.”
“Fine, I’m askin’ what do you do for a living, Mr. Callahan?”
“I am the coordinator for the Coalition for Better Understanding between Lycanthrope and Human Communities.”
“You’re the what?” Patterson said.
“Shut up, Patterson,” Christopher said. “So you’re one of the bleeding heart liberals that think the animals deserve equal rights.”
“Something like that, Sheriff.”
Christopher was giving Micah all his attention suddenly. “Take off the glasses, Mr. Coordinator.”
Micah took off the glasses.
Patterson backed up, and his hand actually touched his gun butt. Not good. The sheriff just stared into Micah’s kitty-cat eyes and shook his head. “Beastiality and coffin-bait, that is pretty damn low for a white woman.”
And the “white woman” comment took care of any worries I might have had about what other prejudices the sheriff happened to be carrying around. He was an equal opportunity bigot. He hated everybody that wasn’t male and white and straight. What a terribly stark and empty worldview.
“My mother was Hispanic, from Mexico, does that help?”
“Half spic,” he said.
I smiled, and it went all the way to my eyes. “Perfect,” I said, “just perfect.”
“You look awfully happy for someone who’s about to have a really bad night.”
“And how is this night supposed to get any worse, Sheriff?”
“You knew the body would be here, because your boyfriend and his people did it. That’s how you found it.”
“And why did I bring my boyfriends, and how did I arrange for my friend to be here getting drunk?”
“You were going to move the body, hide it. That’s why you needed this many people. There’s something about this one that will lead to your fag vampire friends.”
I wondered how Jean-Claude and Asher would like being referred to as my fag vampire friends. Better not to know. I shook my head. “How many lawsuits do you have against your department?”
“None,” he said.
I laughed, but it wasn’t a happy laugh. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I get the job done, and that’s all people care about.”
It wasn’t my business, but I had to wonder how many of his arrests were people not white, not straight, not like him. I would have bet almost any amount of money, most of his arrests fell into those categories. I hoped I was wrong, but I doubted I was.
“You know the line that if all you have is a hammer, all your problems begin to look like nails?”
He frowned at me, not sure where I was going. “Yeah, I like Mr. Ayoob’s writings.”
“Yeah, so do I, but my point is this. If all you’re looking at is the monsters, then that’s all you’re going to see.”
He frowned harder. “I don’t follow.”
Why was I even trying? “You’re so busy hating me and everyone with me, that you’ve done almost no real police work, or don’t you care about this one? Is that it, sheriff? Is this just some little fag stripper that got himself killed, so it’s not as important as the white women earlier?”
Something flinched through his eyes, if I hadn’t been staring right at him, I’d have missed it. “You must really hate this club.”
His eyes were cool and unreadable when he said, “My experience has been that what goes around, comes around, Marshal. You engage in high-risk behavior, and it catches up with you, and payback’s a bitch.”
I shook my head. “No one so blind as those that will not see.”
“What?” he said.
“Nothing, Sheriff, just wasting my breath.”
The radios on the black and whites crackled to life, and what we heard was enough to stop the squabbling. “Officer down, officer down.”
Location was just down the road at the first strip bar that the vampires hit. Ambitious bastards. I yelled to Micah and Nathaniel, “Take Ronnie’s car and go home.” I was already opening the Jeep’s driver’s side door.
“Anita . . .” Micah started.
“I love you,” I said, and I slid behind the wheel. I backed up and had to wait for one of the other police cars to get out of my way. Nathaniel was still leaning against the car where the deputy had questioned him. I hit the button for my driver’s side window. I blew him a kiss. He smiled and blew one back. Then I was in line between two of the black and whites, and we were gone. Officer down, was it the vampires? Or had some drunk gotten lucky? No way to know until we got there. The only bright spot was that I wouldn’t be alone with just the sheriff and his men for long. Police would come from all over for this one. Officers that wouldn’t normally have any business or jurisdiction here would be driving up within minutes.
The ambulance was behind us, with its lights and sirens going. They could have been simply following the police’s lead, but I took it for a good sign. EMTs only do the full cherry, when they know there’s someone hurt but still alive. I said a quick prayer and concentrated on driving. The sheriff was a bigoted asshole, but he knew the roads, and I didn’t. Here’s hoping I didn’t end up in a ditch.
74
WE WERE THE first officers on the scene, because we’d been less than ten minutes away. The sound of sirens wailed off into the night. More help coming. There was an Illinois State Trooper car standing in the parking lot with one door open, and the officer slumped, sitting by the door. His face was just a white blur, one arm looked injured, and his gun was clasped awkwardly in his other hand. There was blood on the shoulder of his uniform.
The black and whites hit their doors, and they took cover behind the doors, or the engine block while they looked around. No one just ran straight at the injured trooper. We all took cover, we all had our weapons out, we all assessed the situation before we ran in. You never know about bad guys, sometimes they use bait. I hugged the front of my Jeep with my back, gun out, pointed skyward. I had the engine block at my back, so no matter what the bad guys were using I was okay, as long as I was on the right side of the Jeep. There were so many things to think about, and no time to think deep, you had to let training and experience do some of the thinking for you.
The sheriff did something with his arm, and suddenly all the sirens cut off. The silence was suddenly loud, just the strobing of the lights to let people know something was wrong.
We were all scanning the parking lot and the surrounding area. There was a privacy fence behind the dumpsters. There were other buildings within a few yards. The parking lot was packed. The bad guy could be hiding behind any of the cars, or they could have fled when they heard the sirens. No way to be sure.
Nothing moved, except the trooper who blinked at us. He was alive, and I wanted him to stay that way. We had to move up. As if Sheriff Christopher had read my mind, he moved up. He kept low, which with his stomach and his height was impressive. A lot more limber than he looked.
I pointed my gun not at anything in particular, but in the directions I could cover that might potentially have someone hiding who wanted to shoot at the sheriff. A white plastic bag rolled near the Dumpster, pushed by the wind. Nothing else moved.
Sheriff Christopher gave the all clear. His men all stood up, broke cover, and converged on him. I was more cautious, scanning the area as I moved to join them, my gun pointed at the ground, but held two-handed, ready to go back up. There was a crowd starting at the door to the club. Until I stood up, I couldn’t see the doo
rs over the hood of my Jeep, but I was betting the crowd had been there all along. People have no sense. Or they knew something we didn’t. Naw.
I heard, “Get the EMTs up here.”
Patterson trotted off to let the medics know it was safe to come up. Sheriff Christopher glared up at me. “It was one of your vampire friends.”
“Looks like a knife wound to me, how do you know it was a vampire?”
The trooper spoke in a voice that was strained low with pain and shock, “Bastards flew off with her. Flew up like fucking birds, straight up.”
Okay. “Alright, vampires. Who did they take?”
“One of the dancers,” the trooper said. “I was making a drive-through, like we’re supposed to. Saw her come out, and saw them just come out of the shadows, one on either side of her. She started screaming. I got out, pulled my gun. But there was another one, I didn’t see him. I don’t know why, but it was like he just appeared behind me. He put the knife to my throat, told me to watch. Then the others just flew away with the girl. They fucking flew away.” He closed his eyes and looked like he was struggling with the pain.
The EMTs were there, pushing us all back.
The trooper opened his eyes, and he looked at the sheriff. “He had the knife at my throat, why didn’t he kill me? He swtiched the blade, drove it into my shoulder. Why? Why didn’t he kill me?”
I answered, while the medics went to work on him. “He wanted you alive, so you could tell us what you saw.”
“Why?” he asked, and he looked at me.
“It’s a message.”
“What message?”
I shook my head. “They want us to come and save her. They want to force us to move tonight, while they’re strong, not wait until dawn when the advantage is ours.”
Sheriff Christopher stood up and reached out for me, but seemed to think better of it, and just motioned for me to follow him. I followed him. “Last I knew we didn’t know where these bastards are hiding. You sound like you know.”
I blinked up at him and thought, What can I tell him that won’t get us all in trouble? “I’ve got a date with Mobile Reserve for just after dawn, but if they’ve got a hostage, we can’t wait until dawn.” I dug my cell phone out of my jacket pocket and dialed Zerbrowski’s cell. “Give me Captain Parker’s number, Zerbrowski.”
“Why?”
“The vamps took a stripper, alive. They even made sure we had a wounded but living state trooper to tell us about it.”
“Jesus, Anita, it’s a trap.”
“Probably, but give me the number anyway.”
He gave me the number, and I punched it in. Captain Parker came on the line with Sheriff Christopher watching me. I gave Parker the rundown.
“Is it a trap?” he asked.
“Maybe, or maybe they know we’re coming, and they’re just trying to rush us, so we will come in at night when they’ve got the upper hand. But yeah, it’s probably a trap.”
“I don’t want to send my men in to die, Blake.”
“I’m not wild about it either, but she was alive when they took her, and if we wait for dawn, she won’t be. Of course, she may already be dead, I don’t know.”
“It’s a trap, and the woman is bait,” Parker said.
“I know,” I said.
“You still demanding to go in with us?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
He gave a small dry chuckle. “You argued your way into this operation, I hope you don’t regret that.”
“I regret it now, but if you’re really going in at night, then you’re going to need me more than ever.”
“Are you really that much better with vamps than we are?”
“Yes, Captain, yes I am.”
“I hope you’re as good as advertised, Marshal Blake.”
“Better,” I said.
“Then get over here, we’re going to hit the target in less than thirty minutes, if you’re late, we go without you.” He hung up.
I cursed as I folded the phone shut. I started walking for my Jeep. “Where the hell are you going?”
“To take the bait,” I said.
He frowned. “The stripper.”
I nodded, and was still walking with him dogging me.
“Mobile Reserve is really taking you in with them.”
“If you don’t believe me, call Captain Parker yourself.” I was at the door to the Jeep.
He caught the door edge before I could close it. “Isn’t this a conflict of interest for you, shooting up your boyfriend’s vampires?”
“These are bad guys, Sheriff, they don’t belong to anybody.” I shut the door, and he let me. I didn’t exactly peel out, but close. I knew Parker, and I knew how Mobile Reserve operated, if I didn’t make the time schedule, they would leave without me. The vampires wanted us to go in tonight. They knew we had the address. They knew we were planning on hitting them. They assumed that we meant to hit them after sunrise, and they were forcing our hand. They wanted us in there on their terms. That meant tonight. But why not run? If they knew we had their location, why not just vacate it? Why not just run, and find another daytime retreat? Why take a hostage and go to such elaborate lengths to make sure we knew about it? It was a trap, but even knowing that’s what it was, we still had to go.
75
THE DRY ERASE board was covered with diagrams. Sergeants Hudson and Melbourne had done a recon of the area before the rest of us got set up in our nice, safe, block-away location. They’d covered the whiteboard with entries and exits, lights, windows, and all the minutiae that I would never have noticed, or rather I’d have seen it, but I wouldn’t have been able to make use of it. I could have reported what I’d seen, but one of them would have had to interpret it for everybody else. I simply hadn’t had the training. My way of doing it would have been to do a front entry and kill everything that moved. It wouldn’t have occurred to me to get a diagram of the condo’s interior, or have the landlord of the building there tell us what he knew of the woman who owned the apartment. They’d already evacuated the condos adjoining ours, and they had the nearest neighbor, again, give us information about the interior and the owner. It was useful to know that there was almost no furniture in the condo, because the owner, Jill Conroy, was waiting for a shipment that had been delayed twice. That she worked as a lawyer in a large downtown firm and had just made partner. Fascinating, but I didn’t see that it was useful. They were still trying to find someone who would answer the phone at her job, to find out when she was last at work. No one at work at nearly two in the morning, fucking slackers. It was all interesting, but our victim was in there, alone with vampires who had murdered at least ten people in three states. I wanted to get her out, and I was having trouble concentrating on the trivia. It must have shown, because Sergeant Hudson said, “We boring you, Blake?”
I blinked up at him, from where I’d finally curled up on the street. I was tired and didn’t see a reason not to sit down, some of the Mobile Reserve guys were kneeling. “A little,” I said.
The two men closest to me, Killian of the white, buzz cut, and Jung, who was the only green-eyed Asian American I’d ever met, both moved away from me, as if they didn’t want to be too close when the blood started to fly. I noticed that Melbourne stayed where he was next to Hudson, as if he expected the blood flow to be one-sided.
“There’s the street, Blake, start walking.”
“You asked the question, Sergeant. If you didn’t want an honest answer, you should have warned me.”
Someone laughed, low enough that I wasn’t sure who’d done it, and neither, apparently, was Hudson, because he didn’t try to find out who’d laughed, he just used it as an excuse to be more pissed at me.
Hudson took a step toward me. I stood up.
“If we’re boring you, Blake, then go home. We don’t need your attitude, we got enough of our own.” His voice was low and even, and every word was very carefully enunciated. I knew that oh-so-careful tone. It was the voice
you used instead of screaming or hitting something.
“Dawn Morgan may still be alive in there,” I said. “But every minute we wait cuts her chances of survival. You can hate that your captain let me come, you can fucking hate me, I don’t care, but let’s get this done. I’d like to get to Dawn before it’s too late, Sergeant Hudson. Just once, I’d like not to be the cleanup crew and be there early enough to have something left to rescue.”
He blinked solid brown eyes at me that matched the mustache and close-cropped hair. My own hair was back in a ponytail. They had handed me a helmet, and hair nearly to your waist just didn’t fit in helmets without being pulled back in some fashion. I’d have cut my hair months ago, but Micah said if I cut mine, he’d cut his, the threat had left me with the longest hair of my life. I looked like a short, curvy hippie among the militaryesque haircuts and very masculine figures around me. Even stuffing me into one of their vests couldn’t hide that I so didn’t match everyone else. There are moments when I suddenly feel awkward again, not a cop, not a man, not part of this great brotherhood. Just a girl, just a voodoo dabbler, who no one trusts at their back. It had been years since I’d felt this bad about it. Maybe it was the borrowed equipment, which didn’t really fit, or maybe it was Arnet and Dolph being mad at me, or maybe it was just that I believed what was in Hudson’s eyes. I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t a tactical anything. I didn’t know how they did business. I wasn’t part of their team, and part of me understood that no matter how many friends I had that were cops, and no matter that I had a badge, that there would always be more cops that thought I didn’t belong than ones who did. I would always and forever be the outsider, no matter what I did. Part of it was gender, part of it was my day job, part of it was fucking the monsters, and part of it was just simply that I didn’t belong. I didn’t follow orders, or keep my mouth shut, or play the political game. I would have never survived as a real policeperson, I just couldn’t play the game by anyone else’s rules. Police, real police, understand and live by the rules. I spent most of my life going, rules, what rules? I stood there and looked at Hudson, held his gaze, his anger, and I just wasn’t angry. Too much of me agreed with his anger for me to get angry back.
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