She crinkled her nose, and her eyelids shrank to resentful slits. “I take back what I said about this gig being a cakewalk. It’s more like dying a slow, spinster death, made all the more unbearable by the volume of hunks you surround yourself with.”
“Collins is gay—and married.” I put my face in my hand and silently counted to ten.
“But Mathis isn’t,” Laura said in a sly voice. My head snapped up so fast I thought I heard my neck crack.
“I swear to God, if you put the moves on my boss, I will kill you with my bare hands.”
“Fine! Good grief.” She turned and stomped out of the kitchen, pausing at the threshold to squint at me over her shoulder. “What about your dreamboat doctor?”
“Laura!” I slugged the countertop with my fist.
“He’s here.” Mandy interrupted our squabble. She’d been so quiet, I had nearly forgotten she was in the kitchen with us. She stood and sidestepped around Laura. “I’m going to shift.”
Laura watched her head down the hallway toward my bedroom, then her eyes pulled back to mine. Her brow creased as she watched me adjust the Glock in my shoulder holster and zip up my hoodie. The Browning was in my waistband, too. Just in case I needed a little extra firepower. I’d considered grabbing the .380 out of the pantry, but I felt odd about leaving Laura completely defenseless, even if she hadn’t shot a gun in ten years.
“Please be careful,” she said softly.
“I always am.” I tried to smile at her, despite our recent disagreements, and she pulled me in for a quick hug.
“I’ll wear whatever you want tomorrow. Just please come home in one piece tonight. And take care of that girl. She’s too young to be dealing with all of this.”
“I know,” I agreed. But it was a little late to back out now. The doorbell rang. I pulled away from Laura and squeezed her shoulders. “Try to get some sleep. I have a big day tomorrow.”
She nodded, and her bottom lip trembled as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye before sulking down the hall toward our old bedroom.
Mandy slipped back into the living room as I reached the front door. She held Maggie’s vest in her mouth and dropped it at my feet. I knelt down to strap it around her torso, ignoring Agent Knight’s impatient buzzing.
“If I’d been thinking, I would have had Laura buy you a new vest today while she was out soliciting every man in my life,” I said under my breath.
Mandy sneezed and licked her muzzle in reply.
I patted her side as I finished adjusting the vest straps and realized that the money I’d given her was still in the buttoned pocket. I frowned. Did she not plan on coming back tonight? Her yellow wolf eyes were melancholy, and I wondered if this was goodbye. We hadn’t known each other long, so I tried not to be offended that she hadn’t said something before shifting. She was just a girl, and not an overly well-adjusted one at that. Who could blame her for not trusting me?
I gave her a sad smile and a nod before standing and opening the front door.
It was misty outside. A cool drizzle building up to a sprinkle coated everything with a sticky shine. It filled the air with the smell of damp grass and earth. Thunder rumbled in the distance. I hated that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the storm from the comfort of my bed. It was one of my favorite things about summer.
Agent Knight looked like a dandelion under my porch light. His wild, white hair absorbed the yellow glow, comically contrasting with the rest of his foreboding presence. His full-on black attire—turtleneck, tactical pants, and combat boots—was clearly meant to keep him hidden in the shadows, but with a mop like that, why bother?
His eyes narrowed as he realized I was staring at his hair. And here Laura was getting away with eyeballing my colleague’s hindquarters for a few miles. I should have asked for pointers instead of ripping on her.
As if in retaliation, Agent Knight lifted an eyebrow at my own hair. I’d sloppily French braided it and knotted the tail into a tight bun at the base of my neck. It wasn’t anything special, and though my tresses were a more subtle shade of blond, I was sure the porch light rendered them just as flowery when I stepped outside.
Agent Knight didn’t stop there. His dispassionate eyes took in my thin black hoodie and jeans. As an officer, I’d worn a traditional uniform. Since my first week of vice had been spent staking out a creepy old warehouse, there’d been no need to dress up. I owned a couple of semi-caj pantsuits for the office, but nothing that screamed secret agent the way Mr. Sunny Side Up’s outfit did.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
He snorted at my sneakers and then glanced behind me to where Mandy cowered in my shadow. It wasn’t like her to play shy. She nudged past me and headed into the yard, waiting just beyond the porch light’s reach.
I pulled the door closed behind me and cleared my throat. “Where to, Agent Knight?”
“Call me Roman.” The corners of his eyes pinched as if he hated the idea of being so familiar with me. “Scarlett employs wolves. They overhear everything, so we don’t want to tip them off.”
“Roman,” I said, trying the name out. It felt strange in my mouth. “Then I guess you can call me Jenna.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded once, just enough acknowledgement to pass for receipt, but not so much that I’d mistake him for polite. We couldn’t have that. I gave him a bored scowl and pulled up the hood of my shirt, tucking my hair out of sight.
Roman retrieved a black stocking cap from his back pocket and pulled it down over his head. It did a fair job of hiding his bright mane, but now he looked like he was ready to rob a bank. I kept my opinion to myself and followed him down the driveway to a black SUV parked at the curb.
“Shotgun,” I said.
Agent Knight—Roman—froze and glanced across the yard. “Where?”
I stopped too and blinked at him. “It’s an expression. For the front passenger seat. You know, calling shotgun?”
“Right.” His brow furrowed over his annoyed eyes and he stalked around to the driver’s side. When he opened the back door and glanced across the yard to seek out Mandy, she didn’t budge.
I opened the back door on my side and nodded my head at the vehicle. Roman didn’t seem to care one way or the other—at least, there was no change in his stony expression. He closed the back door on his side and climbed into the driver’s seat, while Mandy crept through the grass toward me. She paused and glanced up, as if to say thanks, and then jumped inside. Her wet paws dotted the leather bench seat before she lay down with a wolfy sigh.
I closed the door and then hopped in next to Roman. “So, this new lead we’re chasing, where’s the trail begin?”
He pushed a button to start the SUV’s engine and pulled away from the curb while I did a double take at the dash. It was outfitted with a state of the art radio and surveillance system. I wasn’t even sure what half of the buttons and screens were for, and I’d driven one of the department’s newer cruisers when I’d worked patrol.
“Arnie Moreau, who I’m assuming you know is a werewolf”—he paused to shoot a look over his shoulder at Mandy—“gave up a few of the inn’s regulars who have connections in the city. We’ve been monitoring activities around their businesses, and we found a cluster of abductions near one of them.”
“You think the inn has set up shop somewhere else in St. Louis and they’re still snatching girls off the street?” Man. Scarlett had to have balls big enough to fit in a dump truck. “Why would they stick around if they know you’re on to them?”
Roman lifted an eyebrow. “They have loyal clients. And being royalty tends to make them think they’re untouchable.”
“But they’re not. Right?” I was having a hard time understanding why they were still in business at all. Was Special Agent Roman Knight all for show, or did he actually do anything productive for the fancy pants vamps he worked for?
“No,” he said, an uncertain crease cutting across his brow. “They will have to answer to House Lilith like
anyone else who breaks the rules.”
“And this Arnie creep, who was clearly a customer and breaking the oh-so-sacred rules, what was his punishment? Did he make bail like he thought he would?”
Roman’s jaw flexed. “He was pardoned in exchange for his cooperation.”
“Super.” I rolled my eyes. “But I’d get a decade of toilet scrubbing for nipping a gangster.”
He didn’t have anything to say to that, but Mandy made an affronted chuff from the backseat.
* * * * *
The business in question was a pawnshop near Fountain Park. There was a liquor store on the corner and rundown apartment complexes across the street. One of the reports Roman had filled me in on mentioned a hooker—or rather a young girl dressed like a hooker—being chased down and dogpiled in front of the liquor store.
She and the perpetrators were long gone before police arrived on the scene, and no one could say for certain where they’d disappeared to. Considering four other girls had gone missing in the neighborhood recently, it wasn’t much of a stretch to assume that they were being held somewhere nearby.
Roman parked almost a mile away from our target. He ordered Mandy to take the lead. She pressed her nose to the pavement and whimpered as she sniffed a trail down the street. I was offended on her behalf. He should have mentioned that he would be testing her.
I expected the rain to give her some trouble, but she stopped a building shy of the pawnshop and made eye contact with me, her yellow pupils silently confirming Roman’s suspicions.
“You’re sure?” he asked, drawing her attention away from me.
She dipped her head in a sharp nod and started for the building.
“Wait,” Roman said. “We can’t barge in without probable cause. Blood Vice operates by a code of conduct the same as the human police, and a random mutt smelling something familiar isn’t enough evidence to build an acceptable case for House Lilith.”
Mandy whimpered and scuffed her paw on the sidewalk.
“Mutt?” I glared at Roman and folded my arms. “Don’t forget that you asked us to come along tonight.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s a recognized term for a werewolf without a pack.”
Mandy had used the term before, but I’d thought it was just slang. “And what are vampires without a…a pack? A tribe?”
“A house,” he corrected. “You would be considered a recluse or rogue, depending on your standing with the house over the territory you reside in.”
I harrumphed and followed him across the street and into the shadowy alley between two apartment complexes. It was a better vantage point to scope out the pawnshop. The windows on the second floor of the building had been bricked over. The owner had probably grown tired of replacing glass. The windows on the buildings in worse repair down the block were in bad shape, half of them either broken or missing altogether. The few active businesses that could afford to take care of their facilities had bricked or boarded up everything but the ground floor.
“This position is not ideal,” Roman whispered as a car rolled by. I tucked my hands into my pockets and gave him a tight smile. We were just a boring couple hanging out in an alley. Nothing suspicious going on here.
“These apartments look occupied,” I said, watching a middle-aged man hobble by with a sack of groceries. “Where do you suggest we find a better view?”
He glanced up at the building behind me. “The roof. We’ll surveil until we have photographic evidence of at least two of the inn’s confirmed clientele. Then we’ll have just cause to call in the cavalry.”
“What about—” I bit my tongue, remembering that he didn’t know Mandy’s name. “Star,” I said, borrowing the first half of her last name instead.
“Stay in the alley and out of sight.” Those blue of his eyes darkened, and he gave her a hard look. “Don’t do anything stupid. Wait until we have what we need, and then let Blood Vice take them down.”
Mandy licked her muzzle and sat back on her haunches. The motion seemed obedient, but the glint in her golden eyes was rebellious and determined. If she caught sight of a girl, she would bolt. I just knew it.
“Maybe I should stay here with her.” I chewed my bottom lip and tapped the toe of one sneaker on the ground.
Roman sighed, reading my mind easily enough. “You’re too obvious. You’ll spook our suspects.”
“Me?” I gawked at him. “A few white stripes, and you could pass for the Hamburglar.”
He ignored my jab. “Which is why I’m not staying here either.”
Mandy pushed her muzzle into the bend of my knee and snorted. Then she hopped up and trotted around behind a dumpster as if to prove she would stay out of sight and behave. I didn’t like it, but I’d been outvoted.
“Fine.”
Roman didn’t wait for any more concurrence. He turned on his combat boots and marched down the alley toward the back of the apartment buildings. I gave Mandy a pleading look over my shoulder as I followed him.
My nerves tingled anxiously, and it was hard telling how long we’d have to wait. I decided to use the opportunity to find out more fun facts about my new kin.
“How many vampires are in the St. Louis area?” I asked as I caught up with Roman.
He didn’t look at me, but I could see his bored expression plain as day. “I don’t work for the census department.”
“If you had to take a guess.”
“Two thousand.”
“Good God.” I tripped over my own feet, and Roman’s hand shot out to grab my wrist. He waited for me to regain my footing before letting go of me with a frown. “What do they do with all the bodies? Or is that part of your job description, too?”
“And you’re a cop.” He shook his head in disbelief. “How many exsanguinated bodies have you come across in your short career?”
“I was on patrol for seven years before making detective, Roman,” I snapped, not caring for his snide tone.
“Answer the question.”
“None. What’s your point?”
“My point, Jenna, is that I’m good at my job. So is everyone in Blood Vice. We keep the supernatural community from being outed to the general human public, and that can’t be accomplished if we allow vampires to go on killing sprees.”
“The one that got me must have missed the memo.”
He made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat. It was probably as close to agreement as I would get. “Most of them stay in line, but when they don’t, it’s up to us to put them down.”
That was comforting. “And how many of these big, bad vamps have you put down?”
He stopped in the middle of the alley and turned to face me, stepping right into my personal space with an indignant scowl. “Why do you care?”
“Jesus. I don’t.” I leaned away from him. “I’m just making small talk.”
“Small talk?” He scoffed. “Half the things you’re asking I wouldn’t tell my own mother.”
“Does your mother know what you are?” The question hadn’t sounded so insensitive in my head. Or so personal.
“My mother’s dead.” Roman’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “She died fifty-three years ago.”
“How is that even…” My brain struggled to make sense of what he was saying. “Because you’re half-sired? That’s why you look as good as you do? How old are you anyway?”
A shadow of a smile touched his mouth. “I think that’s enough questions for one night. We have work to do.” He nodded behind me, and I turned to find a rusty stairwell leading up the side of the apartment building. “After you,” Roman said.
The stairs were definitely not to code. Some of the steps were rusted so thoroughly that I felt them flex under my weight as we began our ascent. Layers of black paint flaked off the railing, revealing rust-eaten bars beneath. I didn’t dare touch anything. I opened my mouth before I could think better of it.
“Can vampires get tetanus?”
“Do I look like an undead encyclop
edia?”
“Do those exist? Where can I get my hands on one?” My foot slipped on a dewy step, and I almost went down, but Roman’s hands clamped around my waist.
“You can’t get tetanus. Use the fucking railing,” he hissed in my ear.
Well. Now I definitely couldn’t use the handhold. Luckily, we’d reached the end of the crusty stairwell.
“It doesn’t go to the top,” I said, frowning at the crumbling brickwork that spanned at least four feet over my head.
“Stand on the railing. You should be able to reach the roof from there.” He crossed one arm over his chest in a warm-up stretch.
“Uh… That sounds like an ER visit to me.”
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that human hospitals are off limits.” He stretched his arms behind his back next and followed it up by popping his neck. “Let’s go.”
“Wait a minute.” I held my hands up as he ushered me toward the corner where the railing ended. The bolts were rusty and loose, and the frame sagged a few inches from the building itself. The stairwell platform wasn’t even level anymore. “I can’t do this,” I said, my palms inches from his chest.
If he took another step closer, I’d fall over the railing and likely to my death. Would a fall from this height kill a vampire? I couldn’t bring myself to ask. He’d already proven himself useless in that regard.
“Of course, you can do this.” Roman gave me an expectant look and refused to move out of my way.
I swallowed and turned around, pulling one shaky leg up to rest my sneaker on the railing. It groaned under my weight as I pressed my hands against the brick wall and climbed up.
The alley below was dark. It looked more and more like a bottomless pit the longer I stared. I remembered some rule about not looking down. Too late for that. The railing groaned, and then Roman was beside me, perfectly balanced like a cat without anything to hold on to.
“If you jump, you’ll be able to reach the lip of the roof,” he said.
“What?” I gasped and pressed my face against the brick wall. My legs were trembling so hard that I could hear something rattle in the stairwell below us.
Blood Vice Page 15