By Blood Sworn

by Jones, Janice

  “I’ll try not to take up too much of your time,” Hart said as he held the door to the station house open for her. The desk sergeant nodded as he pressed the button under the desk to let them through the electronic door.

  “My desk is right down at the end there.” He nodded at the square space in the center of the large room.

  The “Bull Pen” held at least ten identical desks. Hart led the way to the messy one at the back. He pushed some papers into a drawer he opened with his foot and nodded toward a chair for her to sit in.

  Detective Hart eased his stocky body down on the brand new desk chair. Ergonomic and practical, it didn’t even squeak under his extra poundage.

  This station had only opened a few months ago. Alex could remember watching the ribbon cutting on her way for coffee one summer morning. Now, as she sat on a nicely cushioned chair in a police station across from a detective, she realized he probably wanted to pin the whole mess on her.

  Two questions formed in the frontal lobe of Hart’s brain: How do I know this woman? and Why do I think she knows more about that vic than she’s gonna tell me?

  She tried to release his thoughts gently, but the second she disconnected, he pulled the top drawer open, popped two pain relievers, and downed them with a swig from the bottle of warm water sitting next to the phone. With no clue as to why a sudden spike of pain came and went, Detective Hart turned his tired eyes on Alex.

  “So let’s start with the easy stuff first; what’s your full name?”

  His fat fingers poised over the flat black keyboard as he waited for her to answer. She gave him all the pertinent information and waited for his hunt-and-peck typing to catch up to her words. He cocked his head to the side with his eyes on the screen. He wasn’t squinting, which meant he had good eyesight for a guy who stared at a computer screen all day. His index fingers dropped stiffly on the keys a couple of more times before he stopped and looked at Alex again.

  “I’ve seen you somewhere before,” he stated. “News Anchor?”

  She shook her head, crossed her legs toward him. “I own a clothing company—underwear, actually—Bite, Inc. Maybe you’ve bought something from my men’s line?” Alex almost laughed out loud at the thought. If this guy owned anything that didn’t come ten to a pack for five bucks, she’d be very surprised.

  “Naw,” he frowned, “that ain’t it.”

  She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. From inside her other pocket, she slid a pristine white card over to him. He looked scared to touch it at first, then he tapped it on the fake wood desk with a grin.

  “I’ll be damned! Still, I can’t help but think I’ve seen you somewhere before today.”

  Before Alex could move him to a new topic, a voice cut through the office noise around them. A young woman, about Alex’s height and weight, strolled confidently down the narrow aisle toward them. She wore a standard issue Glock 9mm on her right hip and a badge clipped on the front of her belt on her left side.

  “That’s because you have seen her before, we all have,” she smiled as Alex stood and shook her hand. “Detective Fallon Andrade,” she said with a tight grip on Alex’s hand. When she released it, Alex knew what she was before they were seated again.

  This vampire lady cop with the raven hair and perfect green eyes wanted to intimidate Alex Stone. What she didn’t know was she wasn’t dealing with a witness; she was dealing with a hunter who knew a predator on sight.

  “She was mixed up with that casino guy whose car blew up a couple weeks ago, remember?” she said angling a stray chair next to Hart. “And she’s got a pretty hot company right now too!”

  “That was actually a little over a month ago,” Alex added with a smile.

  Detective Andrade’s loosely bound ponytail looked silky under the harsh office lighting. Green eyes provided the pop of color her gray V-neck sweater needed to enhance her overall appearance. A pair of gold earrings adorned her ears, each bearing a symbol that Alex didn’t recognize. With black slacks to complete the outfit, she crossed her legs and smiled.

  “Yeah,” Hart yelped, “that’s it! You’re right, Andrade.” He shook his head as he pecked on the keyboard again. “Hey, you’re dating that guy, right?”

  “Geez, Hart,” Andrade scolded. “Rude much?”

  Alex grinned at them. “It’s alright, detective, really.”

  “Sorry,” Hart mumbled as he shot his partner a dirty look. “Pretty bad shit out there, huh? I mean, his car exploding and stuff.”

  “He was lucky he wasn’t seriously hurt,” Alex replied.

  “Yeah,” Andrade hummed as she watched Alex closely. “Too bad about the driver though.”

  Alex just nodded politely. The lady detective gave Alex the impression she knew more than she should have about what happened in Vegas. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she tried to appear.

  “So,” Hart moved on, “you were having lunch with the victim?”

  “Yes.”

  Detective Andrade leaned over and placed an elbow on her thigh. Her green eyes blinked twice, then Alex felt the attempt to intrude on her thoughts. Alex decided not to block her attempt and instead pushed a thought her way—just so she’d have something to report to whomever she worked for. She let Detective Andrade have the last contact she’d had with Kit—Alex’s phone conversation with her a couple days ago.

  It was fairly innocent. Just a quick exchange of where they would meet and what time. Satisfied with that, Fallon backed out slowly, leaving a dull and short-lived pain in her head. Fallon was not very good at this trick. Her sire wasn’t either, which would explain why she was never able to do it without giving herself a headache.

  “And where were you meeting?” Hart continued his questioning.

  “Brimstone Bar and Grill,” Alex replied.

  His confused expression as he typed made Fallon and Alex both grin. Fallon rolled her eyes and shook her head. “If there aren’t any golden arches out front,” she smirked and bumped him playfully, “it’s lost on him.”

  “It’s inside the Hotel Asylum,” Alex replied with a nod.

  At least he looked like he knew of the Hotel Asylum, Fallon mused as he pecked the keys again and she took over questioning Alex Stone.

  “Brimstone’s a pretty nice place,” Fallon said. “Special occasion?”

  “Business,” Alex replied, eyes locked on Fallon’s. It made Fallon uneasy but she figured she hid it pretty well, like any good cop would. “We were going to talk about building our Valentine’s Day campaign around her.”

  “She’s a model,” Hart hummed, tapped awkwardly on the keyboard, then tapped the monitor. “Some place called Desert Beauty, outta Las Vegas.”

  Fallon reached across his round belly, angled the keyboard in her direction and clicked on Kit Blaze’s headshot.

  Her eyes bounced from photo to photo of Kit in various outfits and some with not much more than a smile on the screen.

  “Wow,” Hart whispered next to her. “She doing anything else here besides modeling?” Hart directed the question to Alex after he cleared his throat.

  “Not for me,” she replied.

  Fallon stayed glued to the screen while their voices droned on in the background. Then she felt Hart nudge her, and a thought popped from his mind into Fallon’s: “God, fantasize on your own time, Andrade!”

  Fallon felt the blush begin as she tucked a loose strand of her wavy hair behind her ear.

  “Do you know if she was seeing anyone else after her meeting with you?” Hart asked.

  “No,” Alex shook her head.

  Fallon smirked, “No, you don’t know, or no, she wasn’t seeing anyone after you?”

  Alex grinned back. “No, I don’t know what she had planned after our meeting.”

  An icy chill filled the space around them. She tried to enter Alex’s mind again, but this time she
must have done something wrong because a sharp pain spiked behind her right eye. It watered and blurred her vision as she sat back in the chair and groaned.

  “You alright, Andrade?”

  “Stupid allergies,” she hissed and wiped a tear away.

  “The uniform says you think she was poisoned,” Hart continued as Fallon checked her face on her phone screen.

  “Just a guess from the condition of the body,” Alex replied nonchalantly.

  Fallon and Hart looked at each other then back at her.

  “Her lips were blue and she was sweating. There was a slight sweet smell on her breath when I leaned down to check her airway. There was nothing we could do for her. It acted fast.”

  They were silent, and Hart looked stunned. Fallon just leaned back in her chair and cocked her head to the side.

  “How do you know so much about poison?” Hart leaned over the desk and whispered.

  “My father’s a scientist.”

  “Really,” Fallon frowned. “What kind of science?”

  “Infectious diseases, viruses,” she replied. “Genetics.”

  “Poisons,” Fallon added with a blink of her green eyes again.

  “Poisons.”

  Hart and Fallon looked at each other again, then Hart pecked that note on the screen. He tapped the mouse then his small printer came to life. The pages popped out, one after another. As Fallon looked them over, Hart filled the silence.

  “Does your father work here somewhere?”

  “Washington,” Alex replied. “DC.”

  Hart let out a low whistle as he nodded at her. “Big time, huh? What’s he do for them exactly?”

  Alex grinned when Fallon handed her the paper to review. She scanned it quickly then signed the last page. Handing it back, she looked at Hart who was still waiting for an answer to his question. “It’s complicated. He heads a research group.”

  “What are they researching?” Fallon jumped in.

  “Why?” Alex said.

  “Just wondering since it sounds so ominous,” she replied.

  “It’s not. Pretty boring stuff, really.”

  “Military?” Fallon asked.

  “Classified,” Alex replied, “and unless you have a line direct to the Oval Office, I can’t really tell you more than that.”

  “Well, Ms. Stone,” Hart said as he stood and extended his hand to her. Shaking it rather weakly, she smiled at him. Fallon found it easy to compel Hart to dismiss Alex and any thought of her having anything to do with Kit’s death. “Thank you for your cooperation. If we need anything else, we’ll contact you.”

  “No problem,” Alex replied. “I just wish I’d been more help.”

  “We appreciate what you have done,” Fallon stated, shaking her hand too. “Thank you, it’s been very interesting.”

  Hart frowned and shook his head as he sat back down to finish the report. She would make sure he officially stated Alex Stone was no longer a person of interest. She had given her full cooperation and no further investigation of her would be necessary. Fallon escorted her to the exit. In fact, she walked Alex all the way outside before she said anything.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  “For what?”

  “Hart,” Fallon shrugged. “He’s not very tactful, sorry.”

  “You mean about Jason Stavros? Don’t worry about it. The media puts a slant on everything.”

  “Yeah,” Fallon continued to smile. “Like I read somewhere that the Tracker team’s still in town—staying with you. Why is that?”

  Alex turned to her, moving to the side so as not to block the entrance before she answered Fallon’s question. “They’re the focal point for the new Spring line. We’re looking for a wider demographic.”

  Fallon didn’t really care about demographics. She wanted something interesting to report to her boss. “But how come they’re staying with you?”

  Alex kept her expression and body language easy and loose. Whatever this woman was after, she wouldn’t get much from this conversation. Once she was back at the office, Alex was going to make it a point to have Erin crawl all over her life and find out what the symbol on her earrings meant.

  “They hate hotels,” Alex giggled. “I have a house in the ‘burbs. It’s far enough out that we don’t have to deal with noisy neighbors, you know?”

  “I guess since they’re pretty hot right now, that was a good move,” Detective Andrade smiled. “I mean, with their connection to ‘Mr. Popularity’ and all.”

  “Just a weird coincidence,” Alex replied. “Bite is looking for a fresh face, and Stavros is looking for a solid investment. Having the Trackers on as muscle for the trip,” she sighed, “is what we like to call a bonus.”

  “Yeah, lucky you,” Detective Andrade stated.

  “Lucky me,” Alex grinned.

  The lady detective nodded and extended her hand to Alex. “Obrigado pelo seu tempo (Thank you for your time).”

  Alex took her cool hand and matched the firmness of the detective’s grip.

  “O prazer e meu (My pleasure).”

  Detective Andrade went back inside, and Alex descended the stone steps to the sidewalk and walked back to her office. She sent a text to Ivy that she was on her way back. She asked about the meeting, but Alex didn’t answer.

  Taking in a big breath, Alex pushed it out and focused on the vibration behind her. Andrade was tailing her. She smiled as she slowed to an easy pace so the detective could keep up. Obviously, she was planted in the PD to spy on the department or her. Alex didn’t know which yet. But she would find out who the pretty lady cop worked for, and then she’d use that information the way a good assassin would—against them.

  Chapter 8

  Detective Fallon Andrade fell back a few paces when she realized she might be too close to her target. During her training on mixing in with the human population, she had learned how to read people and situations so as not to be discovered. Fallon took shit for being a turned human with a thick skin. But she worked hard and pushed through the ranks of a program for potential protectors of the vampire elite. Then she made one dumb mistake and landed here.

  There was nothing wrong with being a police officer in a metropolitan city, but for Fallon Andrade, it seemed like punishment. Her crime? Losing herself to love—or, rather, really mind-blowing lust.

  Fallon had done well right up to the point where she was ordered to take this crap job. Fast cars. Lots of money, access to the most beautiful women in the world—all of that came to a crashing halt one night five years ago. All she had to do was keep her charge safe. But that wasn’t the reason she was exiled to the Lone Star State punitively. She kept the lovey and quite talented Romani princess safe during her first visit to an American and mostly human city. What she failed to do was focus on the job, instead of her charge’s tight bod and beautiful smile.

  In retrospect, she should have checked her libido at the door, but where was the fun in that? As great as that whole experience was, Fallon vowed to never again let a beautiful woman interfere with her duty to her clan. So here she was in Texas, trailing another pretty woman, but she wouldn’t let her new sire down on this one. If she messed this up, Michael would have her head—literally. Pull this off and Fallon was on his security team at Gale Enterprises. And she wanted that spot more than anything she had ever wanted before—next to the Romani princess.

  It was clear that the shifter’s death was intentional. Someone must have tied up a big loose end with her demise.

  According to everything she knew about Alex Stone, the word quit was not in her vocabulary. When she picked up Alex’s scent again, Fallon was confident in her ability to keep this situation contained and Alex Stone out of the line of fire.

  Fallon stopped at a safe distance when she saw Alex enter a sandwich shop. Just then, her stomach growled, and she realized
she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. As her mind pondered lunch, Alex came out with a big bag and a bounce in her step. Down two more blocks, she entered the glass and steel monument to her own success and Fallon grinned as she dialed Michael Gale.

  “Fallon,” Michael hummed as he enjoyed a pre-lunch pick me up. He mixed a bit of fresh blood in with his black coffee. As soon as the smell crawled up his nose, he grinned and started their conversation the way he always did: “What’s wrong?”

  Her sigh amused him as it always did. This was their little game. Even if she was reporting something mundane, he’d always ask what was wrong. Mostly because she always chased the good with the bad.

  “Why is that always the first thing out of your mouth?” she sighed again. “I mean, that hurts, Michael.” When she laughed, he sat back and took another sip of coffee with a grin on his lips.

  “Sorry,” he replied. “How are you Fallon? Having a nice day so far?”

  “I’m good, Michael,” she giggled. “Thanks for asking.”

  “My pleasure. Now that we’ve established the repair of your feelings, what’s wrong?”

  The whole minute of silence between them took away Michael’s grin. When she whispered, he was sure no human would be able to hear it, but she came in loud and clear to his ears.

  “The shifter is dead.”

  As he placed the hot coffee down, he waved the waitress over for the check. “How?”

  “Alex Stone says poison,” she answered. “ME confirmed.”

  “What kind?”

  “The kind that kills,” she answered with a slight hint of humor in her whisper.

  “Fallon.”

  “I don’t know yet. He’ll have something by the end of the week.”

  Michael cleared his throat. “That’s too long,” he said then emptied the mug. “Speed that up.”

  “Sure,” Fallon laughed. “Would you like me to wave my magic wand or flash my boobs at him?”

  Michael moved briskly across the parking lot to his loaner and jumped inside. After the phone paired with the speaker device, he pulled out into Vegas Strip traffic. “I don’t care how you do it, just get me the name of the poison.”