“Exactly,” Artie said. “Trauma is a wound that needs to heal. Your killer was bitten and infected. That’s the worst wound, the kind that never goes away because his blood is a constant reminder of what he’s become. He can’t erase that, so he erases those like him.”
“Oh wow,” Chaz said. So much of the crimes made sense. So much of his own life made sense. He stared at the blood in front of him and saw Sully reflected in the glass. He slipped his hand under the table and squeezed him. When Sully squeezed him back, Chaz was pulled from his darker thoughts.
“So, how do we fix this? Is there any way our killer is one of the workers who left the business after coming here?”
Artie didn’t answer for a long time. “It’s possible. But I don’t think so.”
“Why not? It’s possible, right? So we can’t exclude it.”
Artie’s eyes flashed with anger. It was so strong, but such a quiet, mythic anger that Chaz felt tied to his chair.
“That’s true. It’s possible,” she said slowly. “But only a handful of people know you can trace origins in blood. It’s the black-market knowledge—and I know everyone who has access. He can’t be one of them. And I’m very uncomfortable pointing the fingers at any workers. That’s our inclination. That’s what society has taught us to do. But these guys and girls have had a hard time. Chances are, your man was never in the game.”
Chaz wanted to ask why she was so sure. Was it because she was a goddess? A myth? Did she really have all-seeing powers? Maybe with all four of them together, they did. But Chaz couldn’t know or tell. He looked at the blood in front of him and saw Sully in the glass again. Would he show up in Chaz’s blood now, because he’d consumed him? Would he show up on Sully?
Artie seemed to sense what he was thinking as she went on. “Point of infection becomes marked like the rings of a tree. I see the first person who changed someone, but then the lines get fainter as time goes on. As you must know, not everyone you feed from becomes a part of you. You can interact with Trina’s blood and not transform her, but she’ll still show up on your panel because she’s a supernatural. If you drink from someone and don’t transform them through blood-to-blood contact, they’re not there.”
Like my one unchanged victim, Chaz thought. And Sully.
Sully met his eyes. We’re not a part of each other, he seemed to say. Chaz couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.
“Do you want me to do a panel for you? To see who comes up in your past?”
“I know who infected me,” Chaz said.
“But do you want to know who else is there?”
Chaz considered it for a long, long time. When he finally tore his eyes away from Sully, he nodded.
“Okay. I will. But after dinner.” Artie picked up her fork and continued eating, as if nothing had happened. For Chaz, nothing would ever be the same again.
“JUST A pinch,” Artie said.
Chaz made a face as the needle went in. The pinching sensation dulled as his body rushed endorphins to the area. He watched as his blood was sucked out of his arm and into a bag. “Do you really need that much for a panel?”
“Yes, and insurance.”
“Ah,” Chaz said. “Still don’t trust me?”
“I do because Sully does. And he’s a good judge of character. But if we find something that helps us, we need to have lots so we can run the panel again.”
Chaz nodded, considering this. Sully had gone upstairs to see if anyone was using his room, and if they were, how they were adjusting. Chaz and Artie were still in the basement, and he hoped they’d be done as soon as possible. He didn’t like how much he already missed Sully, or maybe, how much he wanted him close so he could feel better.
“What do you think you’ll find?”
“Probably nothing too unique,” Artie said. “But you’ve had an interesting life, Chaz Solomon.”
Chaz balked at hearing his full name. “Sully tell you my last name too?”
“I have my ways.”
“Huh. I thought all those records were sealed.”
“They are. I’m a myth, though. I can go places others can’t.”
Chaz nodded. He should have figured this would happen. Utter his name once and everything fell apart. Relief instead of embarrassment flowed through him. It was so nice to be called that again.
“I’m sorry about what you went through,” Artie said. “It’s not fair for anyone.”
“We’re all victims, but we’re all guilty of something too.”
“That’s true. You can’t plead innocent when you go to trial.”
Chaz’s heart hurt. Nat. Nat had said that before. “Where… did you hear that?”
“Oh. Something that Athena said once. Here. Hold this against your arm.” Artie swapped out the needle and gave him a cotton ball. She taped it in place a second later and labeled his bag of blood.
“Hey, this may sound odd, but—”
“Probably not.”
“If I were to get some of the victims’ blood for you, what would happen? Would you be able to run them?”
“Well, I already have Fatima Aleem, Hector Juarez, Patrick Mortimer, and Darcy Chariandy on file.”
“Why do you keep saying their names aloud? It’s hard to hear.”
“Exactly why I say them aloud, so we don’t lose sight of what we’re here for. But I already have their blood.”
“Not the victim in the church, though. Alan Ramirez. They say he did all the crimes, but I don’t believe it. If you could see his panel, maybe I could have evidence for sure. I wouldn’t tie it to you. I’d keep you and Sully out of it.”
“You haven’t quite kept Sully out of anything. He seems to be at the center of this storm.”
Chaz felt scolded. He supposed he deserved it.
“It’s hard after death,” Artie said. “The blood is only good for so long. But if you get it, I’ll run it. I’ll see what I can find. And if you can’t get it, we’ll try and send someone else to.”
“Another myth?”
Artie smiled. That was all the answer he needed. Chaz rolled down his sleeve, keeping the cotton ball in place. Artie stood from her research and brought him into the foyer where the elevators were. She pressed the button but waited with him.
“When will I get the results?”
“In a few days. Don’t worry, though. You’ll be fine. Thank you for trusting us.” The elevator door opened and Artie gestured toward it. “I’m not going up, but go and see Sully. Be good to him too.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Good. I believe you.”
When Chaz reached the foyer, only Tabby was there. She was behind the counter, seemingly bored out of her mind. She murmured that Sully wasn’t done yet but would be soon, then flipped through a magazine on wildlife.
“Do you mind if I wait here for him?” Chaz gestured toward the couch and pinched the Band-Aid in his arm hair. He flinched as he took a seat.
“You should shave,” Tabby said.
“What?”
“Artie took your blood, right? So your arm hair is in the way. She should have shaved the area so you didn’t get stuck. I have some Nair, if you want to get rid of it before you pull it again.” Tabby rustled in a box behind the counter, not waiting for his response.
“Oh, it’s fine. I don’t really feel it.” Chaz rolled up his sleeve and tore the tape away. He clenched his jaw. Okay, I felt that. He also felt his face again, his beard making him self-conscious.
“Well, if you change your mind, I have you covered.” Tabby put the bottle on the counter and winked. She seemed sad to return to her magazine, so Chaz shifted his attention toward her.
“I never asked you anything during the interviews,” he said, “but do you remember any weird guys coming in?”
She laughed. “Oh, be more specific, please.”
“Fair enough.” Chaz tried to envision the self-hating vamp. Going again and again to the scene of a crime, taking down vampires because he himself wa
s one. He probably went to brothels to see what kind of people they had, then made a note. Followed them. Found the underground networks incidentally and started to take out anyone who was just like him. So would he have sex with anyone here? Probably not. “Anyone come in looking for the same worker?”
“Other than you?”
“Yes,” Chaz said, blushing.
“Most people have a favorite. Some people get upset when they’re not free, but that usually means they book in advance rather than getting upset.”
“Anyone like vampires?”
“Eh.” She shrugged. “Not anyone that stands out.”
“Okay, well, anyone come in and not have sex? What about just looking for blood?” Chaz nodded, feeling like he was onto something. A self-hating vamp would still have to feed. He’d need a place like Artie’s, or Didi’s, or Heather’s. “Anyone get really particular about blood?”
“Again, other than you…. Yeah. Actually.” Tabby twisted her braids in her hands as she put together a profile. “There was this guy who came by a couple weeks ago. Tall. Dark skin but not like yours—olive. Maybe Latino. He asked for several different kinds of blood and if he could bring it all back to his place. He didn’t want to drink it here. When I told him he couldn’t do that, he got upset.”
“That’s gotta be it,” Chaz said. Too ashamed to drink it in front of people but needing it. Who knew, maybe the guy did have a science degree and he was figuring out the same tracking system Artie was. None of it mattered, though, because for once Chaz felt as if he had him. He asked Tabby a couple more questions to get the looks of the guy down, but she made a face.
“I’m not good with describing this type of thing. But I can draw. You want me to draw him?”
“Yes. Thank you. That would be perfect.”
She was already sketching in her notepad. A few minutes later, she handed it over. Chaz stared at a handsome face with strong jawline and a scar over his eyebrow. “And he’s never come back?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Thank you.” Chaz barely had time to fold the piece of paper in his pocket before he heard the elevator doors open. Sully stepped off with a bag over his shoulder, probably full of clothing. He smiled as he spotted Chaz and walked right over.
“You okay?” Sully said, referring to his arm.
“Oh yeah. Piece of cake.”
“Red velvet cake.” Sully lingered close to Chaz’s body, his smile inviting. Tabby pretended to busy herself on the computer, giving them the illusion of privacy. Chaz had to fight the urge to kiss Sully—then he wondered why. He reached out to stroke Sully’s chin, then brought their lips together.
“Okay, maybe you were right,” Sully said, laughing as he pulled away. “Your stubble is killing me.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll shave. Then will you kiss me?”
Sully grinned again. He cupped the back of Chaz’s neck, pulling him close so he could whisper in his ear, “I’ll do more than kiss you, Chaz Solomon. Now take me home.”
Chapter 33
AFTER A couple minutes of searching in Chaz’s bathroom, Sully found all the materials he needed. Chaz took off his jacket and hung it up by the doorway, then worked on unbuttoning his collared shirt. Chaz caught Sully’s gaze flicking over his bare skin in the mirror, a smile on his lips as he watched Chaz undress. When he was done, Chaz stood only in a white tank top and his boxers. Sully stayed in his clothing, save for the red jacket. He put a towel around Chaz’s shoulders and caught Chaz’s gaze in the mirror once again.
“You know,” Sully said, raking his fingers through Chaz’s curly hair, “I think you may need a haircut too.”
“It’s not that bad, is it?” Chaz went to touch the hairline at the back of his neck and found it unkempt. “Okay, fair enough. But you can cut hair too?”
“I’m a renaissance man.” Sully rolled his eyes. “It’s pretty easy, and if you’re willing, I can get it done fairly quickly.”
“Then go. I trust you.”
Sully grabbed a chair from the kitchen so Chaz could sit down, then grabbed some clippers and scissors from the medicine cabinet. The bathroom was a little cramped, which only made Sully’s skin brush up against Chaz’s that much more.
Sully wet Chaz’s hair and ran his fingers through it. Chaz was shocked at how relaxing it was, and vaguely wondered if Sully could do this for him all the time. He closed his eyes and sank into the chair. When it was time to do Chaz’s bangs, Sully sighed.
“I’m going to have to crawl into your lap to get this right.”
“Oh, what a shame.”
Sully shot Chaz a look, then straddled him. The action was done purely to fix Chaz’s hair, but the words from Artie’s place and the feeling of Sully’s breath whispering in his ears made Chaz react. He’d been on a hair trigger all weekend, but it was only heightened in the last few hours. He saw Sully’s world, Sully’s acceptance, and though a million questions ran through his mind about the case, they all blurred away as he focused on Sully and Sully alone. They’d done so many things that involved nakedness and intimacy, but Chaz had yet to be inside him. And he had yet to be inside Chaz. Chaz wondered how it all would go down tonight, after he was ready. The wait during each snip of the scissor was torture.
Sully scrunched up his nose and squinted as he worked, trying to untangle Chaz’s curls and cut them to make the hairline even. Chaz’s hair was a hard thing to manage half the time; it probably would have been better to shave and sport the cue-ball look, but then he would never have felt Sully’s hands like this.
“Hey, you’re doing a good job,” Chaz said when Sully’s stern look of consternation didn’t seem to move even as he finished the cut.
“I know. But I don’t think it’s even.”
“It’s better than before,” Chaz said, looking in the mirror. His curls had been tamed but not cut too short. “Now all that’s left is the shaving.”
Sully seemed delighted by this prospect. After cleaning the stray bits of hair away, he changed his box of tools. He put a glob of shaving cream in his hand and patted it from Chaz’s chin to his neck, massaging as he did. Sully seemed better at this task, as if he’d done this act a few times.
“You’ve been quiet.” Sully pulled out Chaz’s razor and ran it under water. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine. I haven’t been that quiet, have I?”
“You asked me a lot of questions on the car ride here. ‘Are you hungry? Tired? Sleepy? Will you stay?’” Sully smiled as he repeated back all the questions, then shrugged. “When you ask me a lot, it usually means you’re worried about me. Did something spook you at Artie’s?”
“Um. No.” Artie’s place felt too far away; anytime they stepped into the apartment together, it was like they were sealed off. The other stuff didn’t matter. It was just small rooms and close proximity, sleep and synagogues and operas again and again.
“She drew your blood,” Sully stated. “Was that an okay thing?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I know who turned me. But… if I understand her system properly, everyone else I’ve come in contact with who is supernatural will show up, right? If I’ve turned them, they’ll definitely be there, but all other blood-to-blood contact will be too?”
“Yes, that is my understanding. So even people you’ve had sex with may show up, since blood sometimes gets involved in sex acts. Which is why condom use is important.” Sully said the last part mimicking the tone Artie had during her lectures.
“Yes, of course. I didn’t… or not always. With monsters, you know.”
“You don’t have to explain your past habits to me. We use condoms most of the time at Artie’s, even if supernaturals can’t really spread diseases to humans or other supernaturals, because by setting up rules, you weed out a lot of bad customers. If they can’t handle being told no for something like that, chances are, they will be difficult about anything else you say no to. So it’s risky. Turn your chin
up, please.”
“Oh.” Chaz allowed Sully to tip his chin up and direct him as he continued to shave. The blade against his skin was sharp, but not nerve-wracking. The razor wasn’t a straight edge, but the one Chaz used from day to day. As his neck was turned up, his Adam’s apple and his body exposed, Chaz felt a chill of vulnerability move through him. This is intense. This is where I could die if someone cut me and exsanguinated me.
For a moment Chaz imagined their vampire perp. He must have been turned by someone he was intimate with, which was why he was targeting sex workers. Sex and vulnerability became sex and violence to him. Chaz envisioned the perp meeting the vampire who would irrevocably change his blood chemistry. They would kiss. Things would get heated. Maybe they would even be in the same position as Sully and Chaz, with the perp in the front of the vampire. He would expose his neck, thinking he would be greeted with a kiss—but then he would be cut. Bitten. The blood would rush by so quickly, and everything would be different.
And that was what he did to each person he came across, however many years later. Hector, Patrick, Fatima, and Darcy.
Except Darcy wasn’t a vamp.
So how did he fit into all of this? Chaz went over the scenario, again and again, until he realized that Darcy was only in those houses because he was trying to escape. Like Sully, like everyone else in that lecture room. Darcy had been targeted because he was there. A crime of opportunity, because the killer really wanted Fatima—the helpful vamp who wanted to save people. The thought made Chaz so upset. Maybe the killer wanted and desired Darcy as well, but it was incidental. Or was it? Chaz knew from experience that being a vamp meant that you had to get close to someone in order to become one. So desire and intimacy is probably what got the killer into this mess in the first place. Desire itself was the enemy; vamps merely became the perfect embodiment of that desire, but anyone who worked with sex would be acceptable collateral damage.
“Other side,” Sully said. He shifted around Chaz’s body and tilted his chin again. One half of his face was shaved, the other still white with soap. He swallowed and watched in the mirror as his Adam’s apple rose and fell.
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