Costa glanced at his watch. “We need to get going.”
“Where to?”
“I got us an appointment,” Costa said. The waitress took the bill along with Costa’s credit card. I tossed some cash on the table for the tip and made a mental note to cover our next meal.
“An appointment, huh? Sounds nefarious. With whom?”
“The local head vampire. The Magister.” Chapter Seven
Costa drove his rental while I played with his radio and thermostat settings. He glanced at me a few times, and even though it was difficult to see his expression behind his sunglasses, I would have sworn there was amusement in his eyes, despite his annoyed tone when he asked exactly how old I was, and if I really thought a woman so close to thirty should play with buttons like a twelve-year-old.
By the time we reached our destination, I was playing with the buttons for the express purpose of annoying him.
“Okay, put your big girl pants on,” he said as he pulled up next to a large building that was under construction.
The skeleton of the building was incomplete, and men worked on the ground to put together large steel frames.
I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him, and grinned, instead. “Do you really think the Magister is going to know anything useful? Not like the man manages his own operations, and I’m pretty sure whoever was in charge of that St. Louis fiasco is…retired. Vampire-style.” I glanced at the building material–ridden piles around us.
“And why are we meeting him at a construction site?”
“It’s worth a shot to see if he’s rented any warehouses in Chicago.” He took a deep breath and intoned, “And we’re meeting him here because apparently, one meets the Magister wherever the Magister will deign to meet.” I choked down a laugh and he raised an eyebrow at me, a small grin tugging at his lips.
“Have you ever met the Magister?”
“No,” I said. “But I’ve heard enough.”
“What’s the impression you get?” Costa switched the car off and turned to face me, pulling his sunglasses down.
I shrugged. “He doesn’t come off as all that impressive from what I’ve been told. But he has to be pretty powerful to hold three states. As far as I know, vampires don’t run democracies.”
“True. Anything else?”
“I’m told he seems pretty levelheaded. A bit of a politician, I guess.” I pulled down the sun visor and opened the mirror. Quickly, I smoothed my hair and applied a fresh coat of lipstick. I slipped my jacket off and set it carefully between our seats. Sex appeal was unlikely to influence someone as powerful as the Magister, but it was worth a shot. “Ready?” I gave Costa my charming smile.
His eyes lingered on my bright lips for a second then he frowned and put his sunglasses back on. “Let’s go.” I followed Costa over to a group of men. One was pointing at blueprints while gesturing at the building.
Several others were gathered around him, most in suits, one in Carhartts that were well-worn. To my surprise, the man who had been gesturing directions from the blueprints walked to meet us, after giving the large papers to one of the suits.
He nodded to Costa and then me. His eyes only passed over me for a moment, a quick flick of his gaze, but I felt suddenly like I’d been weighed, measured, and cataloged.
“I’m Luc Chevalier. Thank you for agreeing to meet here, detectives,” he said, as if we’d had a choice in the matter. “How can I help the OWEA today?” A slightly better than average-looking man, he stood around five foot nine and had wavy brown hair and brown eyes. He was attractive, but not striking and I didn’t feel the aura of fear coming from him that I usually sensed from vampires. We could have been standing outside with a regular construction foreman for all I could tell.
It was unsettling.
“Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice, Magister,” Costa said. “I am Agent Costa. This is Detective Whitman from the Chicago PD’s paranormal unit.”
“Nice to meet you both.”
A strong breeze whipped my hair around my face, and a whiff of Costa’s aftershave touched my nose. I fought not to step closer to him. A man should not be allowed to smell so good.
“We’re here to talk to you about one of your companies.” Costa flipped open a small notebook and glanced at the first page. “NMR Real Estate, to be precise.”
“I am not normally involved in the day-to-day operations of my companies, you understand. I am more of a high-level manager, but I will of course help you if I can.” Chevalier’s French accent coated his words, making the English sound more musical.
“Do you recall an incident in St. Louis, nearly a year ago now, where a kidnapped woman was held in one of your company’s warehouses?”
Luc glanced at me. “Yes, the succubus. I remember.
I never spoke with the police about it. My son, Nicolas, oversees my holdings in St. Louis. He handled the situation.”
I frowned. I’d never met Nicolas Chevalier but Mac said something was off about him, and that he was quick to anger.
“Is Nicolas available?” I asked. “It would be helpful to speak with him, too.”
“I’m afraid not. He left last night for Europe. He won’t be returning for a few weeks.” Luc offered me an apologetic smile.
“It would really help us out—” I began.
“I’m sorry, but it’s impossible. He’s there for important business negotiations and will not return until everything is settled. You’ll have to discuss this with me.” Pressure built in my chest and I wanted to shriek and rage so badly—tell him exactly how important I found his business negotiations compared to my sister’s life—that I had to close my eyes for a moment to get a grip. I filled my lungs with a deep breath of air and tried to push the thoughts riding on the tip of my tongue to the back of my throat.
“Well, then you are aware that someone at your company rented out a warehouse—with no paper trail—
to an individual who used the building to keep at least one woman prisoner. An individual who then tried to ship her out of the country?” Costa asked, giving me time to compose myself.
I opened my eyes to see that Luc’s attention had shifted from me to Costa, and some of my embarrassment faded, lifting a small weight from my chest.
“Yes. We had a manager trying to make some money on the side. He’s been eliminated—from his position—for his actions.”
I opened my mouth to ask for more details, but Costa shot me a warning glance.
“We believe that something similar may be happening in Chicago as we speak,” Costa said. “We can’t say for sure that this person is using one of your buildings again, but it is possible, considering how much property you own through companies in the area,” Costa said.
“I find that unlikely, but you can trust that I will review my records and let you know if I see any rentals that are out of the ordinary,” Luc said.
“It would be better if we could go over those records ourselves.” Costa smiled, and the expression was somehow predatory.
“I don’t think so, Agent.” Luc’s smile was just as wolfish.
“What about the manager who rented the unit in St.
Louis? You said he was fired, but maybe you know how to find him,” Costa shot back.
“He seems to have disappeared.”
Yeah, of course he had. I didn’t particularly care about the Magister’s staff or how he handled his business. Right now, all I cared about was finding Elaine.
“Look.” I swallowed hard as both men broke eye contact to look at me. “I understand why you wouldn’t want us in your records, Magister. And really, I don’t see this twisted son of a bitch going through the regular channels like that anyway. What would be more helpful is a list of the properties that you show as currently vacant that meet our guidelines.”
“I’m not just going to hand over—”
“This asshole has my sister, Magister.” I stared down at my hands and suppressed the urge to rub my temples
.
I had to convince him. For Elaine. My pride didn’t mean jack right now. “I know that this isn’t something you’d normally allow, but I have to find her. Please. She’s been through enough.”
He rocked back onto his heels and crossed his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face. I met his gaze, knowing how desperate I must look, but not caring. Elaine was more important than my pride.
“Okay,” he said finally. “But only the buildings that fit your criteria.”
Hope filled my chest, and I opened my mouth to thank him, but the Magister held up his hand.
“Don’t thank me, Detective. My people learned from the last incident. I don’t think you will find her in one of my buildings.” He gave me a small smile, and for a second the average man appeared almost human. “But I do hope you find your sister.”
It took less than an hour for Luc Chevalier’s office to send us a list of the warehouses that met our criteria.
Then another half hour back at the office for Costa and me to plot the thirty locations on Google Maps. Forty-five minutes to settle on which ones fit what we were looking for the best—far enough away from populated buildings, in areas that were run-down and not highly populated.
Fifteen minutes to convince Vasquez to send a set of uniforms to check out a few of the warehouses for us.
The clock on the dashboard in Costa’s rental read two by the time we headed out of the office. My stomach rumbled, but I ignored the sound. We’d already wasted too much time getting on the road. Costa didn’t mention lunch, either, and though annoyed, I was grateful for it.
“So we should be able to get through two or three pretty quickly,” I said. “These three are all within a mile or so of each other. I hope Chevalier’s man isn’t late.” Chevalier had promised that one of his employees would meet us at the first location, and then travel to the other two to unlock them for us as well.
Costa grunted. I hadn’t expected much more of a response. We’d been through this already, at the station.
For some reason, saying it aloud made me feel better, calmer. I could deal with this so long as I had a plan.
“So your sister,” Costa began.
I winced. “I’m not sure this is the best time to talk about her. I need to keep my focus.”
“I get that. I know she went through some stuff—
you don’t have to rehash that if you don’t want to. It’s just… Where are your parents?” He glanced at me before returning his gaze to the road.
“We don’t know who our dads are.”
His eyes widened.
“Yes. We have different dads.” I turned my head to face my window, and watched the gray buildings slip past us. “My mom enjoyed being a succubus. She wasn’t exactly the marrying kind.” My voice faded at the end, and I clenched my teeth together. It shouldn’t bother me. “She passed away when Elaine was still a teenager, a couple years before...” I cleared my throat and willed the image of Elaine, so broken and damaged after her attack, from my mind. “Anyway, it’s just been us ever since. I mean, we have some extended family, a couple of aunts. But they don’t live around here, so we don’t see them that often.” My voice broke, and I blinked back tears. “Elaine is all I have.”
“Like I said, I read her file. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
But suddenly I did want to talk about it, and the words felt as if they would burst from my chest if I didn’t get them out. “She was so damaged after the attack, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get her back.”
“Her date tried to rape her,” he said, voice low.
“Yes, and she sucked the life out of him for it.” I took a ragged breath. “And he deserved it. He would have killed her.”
Costa was silent for a few moments, as if considering the right thing to say. “You know that for sure?”
“Yes. The sharing that happens when a succubus drinks from her…well, normally her lover, it allows the couple to share emotions, thoughts, even memories.” Costa turned and I gripped the door, though he took the turn slowly. “Later, when she was able to talk about it, she told me that she could see his plans for her body after he was done with her. Broken and ragged and dead at the bottom of a hole somewhere.”
Costa was silent, and I wondered if I was only adding to his view that succubi were dangerous. “She doesn’t deserve this,” I whispered. “She’d only just gotten herself back.”
Costa touched my shoulder, his hand cool against my suddenly too hot skin. “We’re going to find her, I promise.” The first warehouse on our list looked promising.
It was in an industrial area on the south side of the city, and the exterior looked terrifying enough for a person to imagine a kidnapped girl being held there. Rust stains covered the old metal siding, and the neighborhood was quiet and dirty. Potholes pitted the asphalt that surrounded the building and the road leading to it. Bits of paper and cans traced the edges of the road.
I walked around the perimeter while we waited for the man with the key, conscious of Costa following in my wake. He moved quietly, which made me all the more aware of my heels knocking against the pavement.
“I’m going to look into that connection, you know,” I told him after we’d circled the building. None of the windows was low enough to peer into, and both doors had been disappointingly sturdy. “Between Astrid’s murder and our kidnappings.”
He was silent and still, like a snake about to strike. His dark eyes never strayed from mine.
“So if you have something you want to tell me, you should tell me now.”
Chapter Eight
Darkness crept from every corner of the warehouse, and the air hung heavily, filling my throat and lungs with moldy dampness. I coughed to clear my throat and stepped into the room, clicking on my flashlight. No power ran to the structure. It wasn’t necessary since, according to Luc Chevalier, the building hadn’t been used in nearly five years. And the warehouse was not available for rent because it needed to be cleaned and renovated—
one among many properties on their list with that issue, apparently.
Costa’s flashlight beamed from behind me, and I felt him move close—too close. I almost wished that Chevalier’s man had stayed with us instead of moving on to unlock the next warehouse. I took a step, then another, walking carefully to avoid the debris on the floor.
Bits and pieces of metal were interspersed on the ground in small, cobwebbed piles. They looked like brackets of some sort—probably the last thing that was produced in this building. I moved my flashlight across the ground, revealing the large room foot by foot. The concrete floor was free of any equipment, and the warehouse looked like it was simply a big room devoid of anything to really hide behind, save some empty pallets stacked one to two feet high along the edges of the room.
“I don’t see any doors leading to other rooms, do you?” I whispered.
“Looks like an office in the back,” he said, voice only slightly louder than mine.
I followed him to the far side of the building, and sure enough, in one corner, a door stood. The window built into the top part of the wood was so covered in dust and grime that I couldn’t make out anything in the room beyond.
Costa moved from where he stood beside me to try the knob. It turned easily.
The door drifted open and Costa pulled his gun from his belt, keeping it pointed at the ground.
“Police,” he called, with a voice loud enough to carry through the whole warehouse.
Movement in the corner of the room, just on the edge of my flashlight’s glow, made me jump. I pulled my gun as I hastily tried to follow the shape with the light. But I halted when I caught up to it.
“Damn rat,” I muttered.
We searched what seemed like every square inch of the dirty old warehouse, but there was no basement or rooms other than the office and a couple of restrooms.
Every inch felt emptier than the last and there was no sign that anyone had been in the building recently.
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“She’s not here,” I said, as Costa pointed his flashlight across the rafters in the ceiling.
“You okay?” he asked, turning the flashlight to face the floor.
“No, I’m not okay,” I muttered, and then winced, hoping my voice was too low for him to have heard.
Costa grabbed my hand and squeezed. “If it were my brother in this situation, I wouldn’t be okay, either,” he said softly.
“You have a brother?”
“Yes. I have a brother.”
“Older or younger?” Was it possible Costa understood more than I credited him for?
“Younger,” he said, voice rough. “I am very protective of him, like you are of Elaine. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now. How you’re keeping it together.” I grunted. “I thought you’d decided I was a cold bitch for handling it so well.”
I couldn’t see his face in the dark, but his hand dropped from mine. I fought not to reach for him, reach for the small bit of comfort that touch had given me, reach for the greater comfort I knew he could give me. If he wanted to.
“Let’s just go,” I said finally, the darkness and silence eating at me. “I’m fine. It was a long shot that we’d find her here. Let’s go to the next one.” I headed for the door, leaving Costa to follow me out, and tried to shove thoughts of Elaine trapped in a similar building—filled with dirt and rats and sharp pieces of metal—from my mind.
After searching through all three warehouses we’d pegged for the day, I had come to the conclusion that looking for a succubus in a warehouse was akin to looking for a needle in a haystack. And that Luc Chevalier was a bit of a slumlord. We’d found exactly nothing. Zip. Nada. And neither had the other team Vasquez sent to check out a couple of other warehouses across town.
My stomach rumbled as Costa pulled up to the restaurant where I’d parked my car that morning.
“You want to go in and get a bite to eat?” Costa asked.
“Sure,” I said. There were worse things to look at while I ate than Valerio Costa, that was for sure.
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