by Skye Knizley
"God I hate having to do that," she said, feeling her energy return.
Pashta placed a shot of Jack in front of her friend and smiled. "You looked like you needed it. And the whiskey. What have you been doing this night, Ravenel?"
"More than I should have," Raven replied. "Thank you."
She downed the shot of whiskey, using it to wash the taste of blood from her mouth.
"You fought Malik, didn't you?" Pashta asked with a smile.
"He wouldn't let me in," Raven replied, half turning to watch the crowd.
"I would have loved to see that. He is a Master of House Xion," Pashta said.
Raven swiveled back in surprise. "Is he? 'Lius put a Master on the door? Why on Earth would he do that?"
"Because of you, dear Ravenel," Pashta replied with a grin. "If you recall, the last time you were here you broke into his sanctum and threatened to kill him and tear this place down. He is somewhat afraid of you."
"He'd also kidnapped my sister's familiar," Raven said. "He's lucky I didn't dust him. I let him live and I hold no ill will. 'Lius is a puppet and a coward."
Pashta nodded and cleared the glasses from in front of Raven before providing another glass of claret and a shot. "Is there something else I can do for you?"
Raven frowned at the blood, but drank it down, chasing it immediately with the fiery whiskey. When her throat had stopped burning she said, "Actually, yes. Levac and I are working on a new case. I think one of the victims was here at least once. Do you think you can look at a couple pictures for me?"
Pashta glanced over her shoulder at the other bartender, who was busy flirting with two cute human men, then nodded and made a motion with her fingers like she was rubbing money together.
Raven laughed and slid two fifty-dollar bills under her wine glass. She then showed Pashta the file photos of Zack and Christina. Pashta tapped the DMV photo of Zack.
"I have seen this man several times," she said. "He was a regular on nights after he'd worked on the yacht Witchcraft."
"Did he speak with or dance with anyone in particular?" Raven asked.
Pashta looked uncomfortable and slid the bills into the pocket of her white leather pants. "You won't like it, Fürstin."
Raven frowned. She knew and was friends with Pashta. Though they had met under the usual circumstances they'd become friends over the last few months. It wasn't like her to be shy with information. "Come on, Pash! How bad can it be?"
"Bad. Xavier Tempeste and Lord Du Guerre. They sat in the far corner."
Raven blinked in surprise. "My brother and Du Guerre were meeting with my murder victim? When was the last time you saw them?"
"Your brother was here earlier this evening, he left with a dark-haired woman wearing a domino mask. Lord Du Guerre has not been here in maybe two days," Pashta replied.
"Two days…the night Shevlin was killed," Raven muttered.
"Do you know who served them?"
"Sienna," Pashta said, pointing at a blonde waitress who was weaving her way through the crowd with the skill of a formula one driver.
"Thank you, hon," Raven said. "Talk to you later."
"Later, Ravenel," Pashta answered with a nod.
Raven pushed her way through the crowd until she reached the blonde, who was serving a group of very familiar-looking bikers; Lycans Raven had dealt with before. Two rose to stop her as she got closer, but their alpha motioned for them to sit.
"Hello again, boys," Raven said with smile. "Just passing through. Sienna?"
The blonde waitress nodded and finished placing mugs of mead on the table. "Yes? Can I get you something?"
Raven took the girl by the elbow and guided her away from the werewolf pack.
"I'm Detective Raven Storm of the Chicago Police Department," she said. "I would like to ask you a few questions."
Unphased, the girl led Raven to an empty table and sat across from her. Raven pulled out the photos of Zack and Christina Shevlin and passed them to the girl.
"Do you know either of these people?"
Sienna tapped Zack's photo without hesitation.
"This is Zackie," she said. "A really sweet guy and a great tipper. He always came in after he'd been working the yachts, said he liked the spooky atmosphere here."
Raven took the photos back. "Did you ever see him with anyone?"
Sienna laughed. "Oh yeah, he met a couple of real good looking guys on a couple of occasions, I think something to do with one of the boats he worked on. One was tall, an albino guy with a bad attitude. The other dude was a Frenchman, a beautiful man with blonde hair and a beard shadow that begged to be stroked. You know the kind I mean?"
"Did you ever hear them talking?" Raven asked, ignoring the description of Francois.
Sienna shook her head. "No, not really. They only spoke to me when I brought or they ordered fresh drinks. The rest of the time they were quiet when I was around, like they didn't want me to hear what they were talking about."
"Shit! Okay…thanks Sienna. That is at least more than I had."
"You're welcome," Sienna replied.
Sienna turned to go, but Raven stopped her with Levac's trademark line. "Just one more thing, Sienna."
Sienna turned and looked at Raven. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Those guys you were hanging with? Don't go home with any of them. And I mean that. They can be real animals when they aren't here," Raven said.
"As you say," Sienna said with a nod.
Raven watched her go and drummed her fingers on the table in annoyance. So Francois and Xavier were working together and had likely been with Shevlin on the night he was killed. What the hell would they want with an ex-con working Witchcraft and how did his sister fit into things?
Why are the cases with preternaturals always so bloody complicated? Raven wondered.
She stood and walked back to the bar, pausing to slip Pashta another fifty. She then headed home. It had been a long day.
* * *
CHAPTER FOUR
The crack of noon came with the rumble of thunder and waves of snow that covered the Windy City in a blanket of white so pristine it looked like a Holiday card. Raven was dressed in black leather pants, a black and white poet blouse and knee length riding boots; she'd opted for a low-slung tactical holster for her Automag and the outfit sort of made her feel like a character out of a movie.
She was posing in front of her mirror when there was a hesitant knock at the door. She holstered her Automag and pulled the door open. Dominque was standing on the other side looking at the floor. As always the pretty blonde was dressed in a thin gown and stood in bare feet. Raven could tell by the way she was standing that something was very wrong.
"What's happened?" Raven asked.
Dominique wrung her hands and when she looked up her eyes were moist with tears. "Your sister Rowan didn't come home last night. I did a bed check like I do every morning, a task your mother has given me and her bed was empty this morning. It was still made from yesterday."
Raven shrugged. "Maybe she found a new familiar, you know how she likes to collect them, kind of like Ken dolls. She could be spending the day with one of them."
Dominique shook her head. "I fear something dreadful has happened. I did her Tarot and her cards keep coming up Death."
Dominique's cards were never wrong. Never.
"All right, honey," Raven said. "Do you know where she was going last night?"
"No. But she took the new Aston Martin DB-9 Mistress got in last week," Dominique replied.
"Have Aston Martin activate the GPS, I will have traffic run an APB on the car," Raven said. "Wherever she is, we'll find her."
Dominique left to do as she had been told. Raven followed her down the stairs and, after a pause to hug the petite blonde goodbye, headed out into the snow, already dialing a friend in traffic.
The Shelby wasn't the smartest car in the snow, but in Raven's hands it was good enough to get her to the precinct. She breezed into her office at half past noon
and dropped a paper-wrapped sandwich next to Levac, who was poring over a file like it was a really good novel.
"What's cooking'?" she asked.
Levac didn't look up, but he did reach for the sandwich. "Did you know your dad tracked this Riscassi guy for three years before he finally nailed him on a murder charge?"
Raven nodded and unwrapped her own sandwich. "I've read the files, I know all about dad and Riscassi. Did you find any useful connections between Riscassi and DeGrey?"
Levac took a big bite of the bacon sandwich Raven had brought. Around a mouthful of cheese and bacon he said, "It looks like they go back a ways. DeGrey's father was one of Rocco Riscassi's lackeys, your dad did him a few days before he nabbed Rocco. It looks like the girls hung out together. Their juvie records are sealed, but I have a hunch they were trouble when they were kids."
Raven nibbled on her own sandwich and watched Levac eat and read. The way he attacked the sandwich with such gusto for some reason made her wonder what he would do with a woman. Levac caught her watching and blinked. "What? Do I have mustard on my tie again or something?"
Raven blushed and shook her head. "No. It's nothing. Tell me about these connections, is there anyone we can question that might help us connect some of these dots?"
Levac wiped his mouth on a napkin.
"It looks like DeGrey has several arrests, but no convictions for prostitution. Her last one was just six months ago. The report says she was a making contacts from an agency called Chicago VIP. Two guesses who they use as their attorney."
"Riscassi and Levine," Raven said.
Levac nodded. "Got it in one. Water cooler gossip is they're a front for the Italian mob's prostitution rings."
Raven pursed her lips. "That's thin, Rupert. But what the hell, we've gotten more with less. Do you feel like running down there and rubbing elbows with the girls at Chicago VIP? I picked up another lead last night, maybe we can kill two birds at once."
"Yeah, I can get a black and white to take me over. Where will you be going?" Levac asked, finishing his sandwich in a huge bite.
"The residence of Francois Du Guerre," Raven said. "I have two witnesses who put him and my brother Xavier with Zackary Shevlin either on the night he died or the night before."
Levac looked away and made a show if putting away his sandwich wrap and closing the files piled on his desk. "Are you good with that?"
There was something in Levac's voice that made Raven pause. "I'm okay with it…are you okay? You don't sound right."
"I'm fine, Ray," Levac said. "Just try not to shoot him in the face."
Raven crossed her chest with one finger. "Cross my heart and hope to die."
Levac smiled and stood, grabbing his coat off the rack. "Then I will catch up with you later."
"Be careful, Rupe," Raven said. "You never know what you might run into."
Levac mimed tipping a hat. "You too, Ray."
* * *
The snowstorm was in full swing when Raven arrived at the high-rise building that housed the residence of Francois Du Guerre, Master Vampire and someone Raven had once trusted with her life. She pulled the Shelby into the building's garage, grateful to be out of the driving snow if only for a little while. She parked and had just shut the engine off when her cell began to ring, playing 'Bad Boys'. She opened it and answered the call from traffic. The conversation was quick and to the point. They'd found the Aston Martin under a pile of snow on the edge of The Dark.
I guess that's my next stop, Raven thought, climbing out of the Shelby. I wonder what Rowan was doing out near The Dark?
She made her way across the garage and took the elevator to the lobby. The concierge opened the door for her and she smiled, offering him a dollar coin for his trouble before walking across the Art Deco lobby to the main elevators. She rocked one ankle back and forth while she waited, and felt eyes on the back of her head. With nonchalant grace she turned and leaned against the wall. Two men dressed in black suits were seated in high-backed wing chairs, their faces concealed by newspapers.
Uh-huh…and that doesn't say mob all over it, she thought. Cliché anyone?
The elevator car arrived and she stepped inside, ignoring the two mob guys. She would worry about them later.
The doors opened into the foyer outside the penthouse and she stepped out onto the plush red carpet. It looked like the lobby had been redecorated, some things had changed, including the addition of a four foot tall painting of the Sanguinarch vampire Strohm.
Raven shook her head in disgust and turned toward the penthouse doors. She rang twice and waited for someone to answer. After a few minutes she rang again and pressed one sensitive ear to the wood. There was no sound of anyone moving on the other side, it was as quiet as a tomb inside.
Feeling that two eyewitnesses and a slightly crushed heart gave her probable cause, Raven plucked the lock-pick earrings from her ears and set to work on the door. The lock popped open under her talented fingers a few minutes later. She put her earrings back in place and pushed the doors open, letting them bump gently against the walls. She was surprised the main hallway she knew so well was devoid of the side table and paintings that had been there on her last visit.
She moved down the hallway, passing the empty bedrooms, bathroom and office before stepping down into the living room. Here too, someone had removed most of the furniture, leaving only a weapon stand with a katana resting on it and a note addressed to her. Raven plucked the note from the stand and tore through the seal.
Dearest Ravenel,
Keep this near. I have a feeling you may need it sometime soon.
Perhaps one day you will forgive me.
Francois, Lord Du Guerre.
Raven read the note twice and then crumpled it up and tossed it into the cold fireplace. She then picked up the katana. The pommel was made of ivory inlayed with silver wire and wrapped in purple and black silk designed to wick away sweat. The cross-guard appeared to be made of black tungsten steel and the hard sheath made from a single piece of polished black walnut carved with the Valentina-Tempeste family crest.
Raven drew the sword from the sheath in a whisper of steel and examined the blade. The katana was engraved with a variety of occult symbols as well as her name; the letters were all filled with black metal of some kind and then polished, leaving no texture behind. Raven had no doubt the blade would cut through nearly anything.
Why the hell would I need this? Raven wondered. What am I, the Highlander? If someone ever comes at me with a sword and says "there can be only one!" I'm going to shoot him in the face.
She started to toss the sword away, but something made her think better of it. Instead she slung it over her shoulder and continued her search of the house by walking through the empty dining room and into the kitchen. She idly checked the stove and microwave before opening the refrigerator, expecting to find it empty. It wasn't. The open-mouthed head of Zack Shevlin stared at her with milky white eyes.
"Swell," Raven muttered. "At least it can be an open casket now, if the family doesn't mind the Frankenstein look."
She dialed Aspen and requested she bring a team and then walked back into the empty living room to play with the katana. She'd learned how to use one while growing up, just one of the many skills she'd picked up out of boredom from a master named Bowen.
She took a few different guard stances and went through a full series of exercises, confirming what she'd thought; the sword was an excellent weapon made by a skilled craftsman, probably an elder vampire who'd been making them for a thousand years. The question remained, however: Why had Du Guerre left it for her?
Raven sighed and sheathed the sword, walking back toward the elevator. She took the car back to the lobby, humming along with the Muzak. When the elevator stopped and she stepped out she wasn't surprised the mob thugs were gone. They'd probably been in place to confirm she went up and found the head.
She took a few minutes to inform the management that a crime scene unit would be arrivi
ng to search Du Guerre's apartment and find out that he'd left over a month previously, but had paid rent up through the end of the year, a fact she found interesting.
She was just leaving the distraught manager alone in his office when Aspen's van arrived, lights and sirens blaring like the Ghostbusters arriving on scene. Aspen and her crew filed through the door and Raven could tell the kid was enjoying tracking snow all over the million dollar carpet.
"I heard you were enjoying a little head," Aspen said, walking up to Raven.
Raven smirked and almost ruffled Aspen's hair, the kid was just so cute. "You were waiting to say that all the way here weren't you?"
Aspen grinned. "Pretty much, Ray. It isn't every day one of my friends finds someone's head in an icebox."
"It happens to me more than you would think," Raven said. "It's in the fridge in the penthouse. The gore factor is right up your alley."
Aspen grinned wider and gave a small laugh. "I love working with you, Ray. You get the weirdest cases."
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," Raven said, handing the Katana to the smaller woman. "Give me a call when you're done and, out of curiosity see if this matches the weapon that decapitated Shevlin. I will see you at the lab later, I have to run across town. My sister's car was found all by itself near The Dark. Rowan's been missing since last night."
"Will do, Ray," Aspen said. "Good luck with your sister, I hope she is okay."
Raven smiled and left the lobby. She arrived at her Shelby a few moments later and headed out into the snow, trying hard not to think about stupid things like love at first bite and betrayed hearts.
* * *
The snowstorm was letting up as afternoon waned into evening and orange snowplows were out clearing the city's streets. Raven took the opportunity to follow one most of the way across the city. It wasn't difficult to find Rowan's Aston, it was parked on the street in front of an abandoned apartment building with a black and white parked behind it. Raven parked in a clear spot in front of the Aston and slipped out of her car. The patrolman had seen her and was approaching with flashlight in hand.