Keeper of the Night (The Keepers: L.A.)

by Heather Graham

  Adam followed the direction of Brodie’s gaze. “You’re lucky. How many women look that pretty soaked in slime? And she’s so talented.”

  “You’ve seen her play?” Brodie asked.

  “Yeah,” Adam said. “I went to the Mystic Café.” He flushed. “I saw her last night. I was curious after I saw that picture of you and her. She’s good.”

  “Yeah, she is,” Brodie murmured. “All right, we’re going. Call me if anything major turns up.”

  “Hey, Brodie!” Adam said. Brodie looked back, and Adam pointed toward the hill. “You might want to watch it. There are two news teams up there. The uniforms are keeping them out of the immediate area, but when you’re leaving... And if you show up on the news, everyone at the theater is going to know you’re a cop.”

  “Thanks,” Brodie said. He looked up the hill. Rhiannon was still standing there in her blanket. There really was no way to get to his car without going by the news crews. He turned back to Adam. “I need you to get my car. Send Rhiannon down to me. We’ll walk out by the road and meet you at the corner.”

  Adam grinned. “Pleasure, Brodie.”

  Adam watched as Brodie climbed the hill and talked to Rhiannon, who quickly started down toward him. He had no idea what he should say to her. It was one thing to view a body on a coldly clinical autopsy table.

  It was quite another to find one decomposing in a pool of algae-coated water and muck.

  “You all right?” he asked her when she got there.

  She nodded. “I’m fine now. Darius got hold of Sailor, and she just called me back. Brodie, this is all so horrible. The attack on Sailor, the dead woman—none of it seems real. And Sailor...she just doesn’t realize her own danger.”

  “She’s stronger than she looks,” Brodie said. “Now come on. We have to walk around to where Adam is meeting us with the car. I really don’t want to get caught on camera.”

  She nodded, but she still seemed lost in her own thoughts as they started walking.

  “Rhiannon, Sailor is going to be all right.”

  “I hope so. She’s the Elven Keeper, and the Elven—” she began, and then broke off, looking at him.

  “You think the Elven are the weakest among the Others?” he asked her. “Let me tell you something. Elven have brought down vampires and werewolves—and more than once. We may not have fangs or claws, but we know all about stakes and silver bullets. And we have one asset that the rest of the Others tend to forget about when they’re in full attack mode.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Brains—and the ability to think before we plunge in.”

  “Oh, Brodie! I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just that I’m not sure Sailor has ever even tried to access her Elven qualities, other than teleporting.”

  “And you’ve had a lot of practice accessing your inner vampire?” he asked her sharply.

  “No,” she admitted. “But I’m going to get a lot of practice now.”

  They skirted close to the water at that point. He must have made a face, because she looked at him and almost smiled.

  “You really hate water, huh?” she asked.

  “I don’t hate it. I can swim, and I’ve even gone diving a few times. We just can’t be away from solid earth for any length of time,” he said.

  Adam pulled up at that point, so they stopped talking as they got in the car and Brodie thanked the tech for his help. They both waved as Adam walked away.

  They were silent for most of the drive. Finally she asked, “Brodie, all these people were dead before you ever got the case, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Why would someone have targeted them? Hatred? Jealousy? Could it really be over a role in a play? It couldn’t even be the same role, since the killer went after both men and women.”

  “Here’s what we know. All the victims auditioned for Vampire Rampage. With the possible but unlikely exception of the one you found this morning, all the bodies have tiny puncture marks, but they could have been inflicted by a sharp instrument, but if that’s true, the intent was to make the murders look like the work of a vampire. And Sailor was definitely attacked by a vampire, now deceased. You were attacked by someone or something that could have been a vampire. We don’t know for sure that the attacks on you and Sailor are connected to the murders, but my gut tells me they are. One way or another, a vampire has to be in on this. The question is whether a human being is part of it or not. A human being who knows about the existence of vampires could be making use of one of them for his—or her—own purposes.”

  By then they had reached the compound, so she pulled her clicker out of her purse to open the gate, and they continued up the driveway.

  “You can just drop me off, you know,” she told him. “I know you have to be ready for your call, and I don’t want to make you late.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll wait. I’ll take you to the Snake Pit and meet you there after the show.”

  “You don’t need to do that. I was pretty shaken up before, but I’m all right now.”

  “I believe you. But there’s not a soul out there who isn’t more all right when someone else has their back. I don’t mind you having my back,” he said.

  She smiled at that. “I like you having my back, too.”

  “I’m glad, but the way you just said that...probably not good for me to think about that right now.”

  “Or me,” Rhiannon said. “Sorry, mental images and all that...” Her voice trailed off, and then she grew serious. “It’s Sailor I worry about, Brodie. I mean, it is true—none of the three of us has had a lot of experience. Our dads were young—we didn’t think we’d be taking over for years. But Barrie is dedicated to two things—journalism and being a Keeper. And as she pointed out to me, she can change into a dust mite and hide. Sailor...”

  “Sailor is going to be all right. I don’t think Sailor was the intended victim, I think you were. Whoever that vampire was, I sincerely doubt he intended to die in the attack. He could have killed Sailor long before you got there. He waited there for you, because his whole intent was to bring you into the fight.”

  “Maybe so, but all that means is that someone could use Sailor against me again,” Rhiannon said, shaking her head in frustration. “I wish we knew where to start!”

  “Why, Watson, that’s easy,” Brodie said.

  “It is?” she asked. “Then why haven’t we solved this already?”

  “Process of elimination, my dear Miss Watson.”

  He was glad to see a real smile curve her lips. “Wait! I don’t want to be Watson. I want to be Sherlock.”

  “No doubt, but I’m the detective,” he reminded her.

  Brodie waited in the living room while she hurried upstairs to shower and get changed. The temptation to join her was painful, but they had to remember who they were. And he was sure she was going to be scrubbing herself rigorously—trying to wash away the scent and feel of death.

  There was a rap on the door, and he answered it. This time Merlin had knocked.

  “Come in,” Brodie said.

  “I’m not interrupting?” Merlin asked.

  “Not at all. Rhiannon is getting ready for work. I’m going to drop her at the club before I go to the theater,” Brodie said.

  Merlin nodded. “Have you seen the news?” he asked.

  Brodie arched a brow and walked over to turn on the television. An attractive reporter was on the air at the scene of the crime. He stood silently watching with Merlin by his side, wondering just how much the press had figured out so far.

  Luckily, while the cops had connected the victims, the press had yet to do so. But tomorrow, after Barrie’s story hit the papers, everyone would know they were searching for a serial killer. The details wouldn’t be in the article, but a warning would be.

  “Five,” Merlin said woefully. He looked at Brodie. “How many more do you think there will be?”

  “I don’t know,” Brodie admitted. “If we’re lucky, none.” He prayed
that was true, and that he could keep L.A.’s newest Keepers safe.

  Mr. Magician began to whir. Brodie turned just as the gloved hand dropped a card into the receptacle. “Again,” he murmured in disbelief.

  Merlin smiled. “Don’t be so surprised. That’s old Eli Wertner. He was famous for his coin-operated machines. Poor old Eli. I don’t think he quite got the hang of being a ghost, but something of him remains in the machine. He was a good man. I’m sure he’s only trying to help.”

  Brodie walked over to the machine to take the card.

  “Well?” Merlin asked him.

  Brodie looked over at Merlin. “Everyone has an agenda. Charity begins at home.”

  Merlin shook his head worriedly. “Someone is out to hurt these girls,” he said. “Whatever you do, please don’t leave them alone.”

  “I don’t intend to,” Brodie said grimly. “Of course, it would be helpful if your old friend would make his messages a little clearer.”

  * * *

  Rhiannon was really enjoying performing at the Snake Pit, a realization that surprised her after the day she’d had.

  No amount of soap and water had made her feel any better. Even though they were short on time, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to get out of the shower, and after she’d scrubbed and shampooed for the fourth time she’d found herself wishing that Brodie had come up and joined her. She felt guilty for that, as she stood there with the stench of death still on her from a young life cut short, but she couldn’t help the longing of her heart.

  She knew she had to hurry, though, so she told herself it was a good thing he wasn’t reading her mind at that moment. Besides, they had obligations. They were what they were, she a Keeper and Brodie Elven and a cop. They could never have a normal relationship, because their lives weren’t normal. They weren’t normal.

  When she finally stepped from the shower, got dressed and went downstairs, she found that they had a visitor—Merlin—so it was a good thing Brodie had opted for responsibility over pleasure.

  But now, having been at the club for a few hours, she was actually enjoying herself. She’d decided to mix things up and do something different from what she’d done with her band and at the café, opting for a mix of the classics and show tunes she’d always loved, and the piano instead of a guitar. The audience that night included werewolves, Elven, shapeshifters, vampires—even a tall, charming leprechaun and his girlfriend, an exceptionally pretty gnome. And of course there were plenty of human beings who had no idea of the true nature of the Others surrounding them.

  Best of all—almost making her forget that she had discovered a decaying corpse that afternoon—Sailor was in the room.

  Rhiannon was halfway through her second set when she saw Jerry Oglethorpe come in. He always looked like a magician, she thought, whether he was performing or not. He waved to her, then joined Sailor at her table.

  At ten-thirty Hugh Hammond arrived and joined them. Rhiannon saw Sailor excuse herself and rise, and she felt a moment’s panic, even missing a beat, as she watched her cousin leave the room. She didn’t know why she was disturbed. Sailor was probably just heading to the ladies’ room.

  Rhiannon told herself that even though the killer had something to do with Vampire Rampage, so Sailor might be in danger on her own, too, not only because of her. But the cast couldn’t possibly be there yet; the show had only just ended.

  But she was unnerved, so she excused herself the minute she finished her song, taking her break a few minutes early. She saw Declan frown and look at his watch, but she didn’t care. She rose from the piano bench and headed downstairs for the restrooms.

  Everything at the Snake Pit was perfect. She entered an elegant lounge the minute she stepped through the door to the ladies’ room, smiled at the attendant and called out, “Sailor?”

  There was no answer.

  “You looking for a friend, sweetie?” the attendant asked. “There’s no one in here right now.”

  Rhiannon gave her a swift thank-you and hurried out, her speed increasing as she ran to the main entrance. She gasped in relief when she saw Sailor, who was heading over to the nicely landscaped area Declan had set up to one side to accommodate smokers, since the law now prohibited smoking inside.

  The thing was, Sailor didn’t smoke.

  And someone was following her.

  * * *

  The play went well; the ensemble had grown tight, and Brodie thought wryly that he didn’t mind acting. In fact, it was fun. The only downside was that he found himself constantly looking out at the audience, wishing that he knew whether anyone there had auditioned for the play. They’d found all the dead they knew about so far, but that didn’t mean there might not be more to come.

  He was determined that the Gryffald cousins would not be among those at risk. Not on his watch.

  As soon as the show ended, he hurried to his dressing room to change. He was eager to get to the Snake Pit as soon as possible.

  He’d just finished changing when Hunter Jackson came in, beaming and clearly thrilled with the way show was going. “Hey, Mac—we’re heading out to the Snake Pit in a little while. Want to join us?”

  “I was planning on it already, so sure,” Brodie told him.

  “I can’t get over how well things are going,” Jackson said. “We’re at capacity every night, and we haven’t even officially opened yet. The internet campaign is going great, and I’ve got a team already working on a game we can release when the movie opens.”

  “You’ve hit the jackpot.”

  “Yeah,” Hunter said, and paused. “People are so strange, you know? They love vampires, think they’re sexy. They don’t get the dead and rotting part. Plus they like to be scared. You know, if there’s news about a vampire cult meeting out in the woods, they want to go out in the woods. Me, I stay as far away as I can, but I thank God that most people aren’t like me, at least when they go to the movies.”

  There was a tap at the door. Hunter opened it to find Kate Delaney.

  “You guys coming?” she asked. “I feel the need for champagne!”

  Lena Ashbury, in tight jeans and a sequined top, popped up behind Kate. “Did someone say champagne?” she asked.

  “You sure did,” Kate said, laughing. “Where’s Audrey? Is she coming, too?”

  “Oh, she took off already. She said she’d meet us at the club,” Kate said.

  Brodie surged to his feet and headed toward the door, feeling uneasy. Audrey was the only vampire in the cast, and she had gone on ahead.

  There was no way to know for sure that the murders had taken place right after the show, but since he’d seen one of the victims in the audience, it seemed possible that the others had come to see the show as well, and been targeted on their way out of the theater.

  And then there was the fact that Audrey had been talking to Rhiannon just before her car was attacked.

  “See you all there,” he said. A moment later he left by the stage door and looked out at the parking lot.

  He saw Audrey getting into her car.

  And there was someone in the passenger seat.

  * * *

  Because Declan Wainwright worked so hard to keep the club’s atmosphere intimate, there was a particularly large amount of foliage surrounding the ‘smokers’ corner.”

  Rhiannon knew that if she didn’t stop Sailor quickly, her cousin would be hidden by the ornamental trees and tubs of flowers—along with whoever was following her.

  “Sailor!” she shouted as she hurried in her wake.

  Sailor stopped and turned back to look, and so did the person following her.

  Rhiannon frowned when she saw who it was.

  “Rhiannon, hey,” he said.

  “Hey, Adam,” she said. He seemed abashed as she approached, while Sailor just looked curiously from one of them to the other.

  “Adam, what are you doing here?” Rhiannon asked.

  He blushed. “I saw your cousin leave, and I was worried.”

&n
bsp; “You were sweet to worry about me,” Sailor said, “but who are you and why do you care?”

  “He’s a cop,” Rhiannon explained. “Adam Lansky, my cousin, Sailor Gryffald. Sailor, Officer Adam Lansky.”

  “Do you work with Brodie?” Sailor asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, blushing. “And I know that Brodie is seeing Rhiannon, and that he worries about her, so since you two are cousins...I thought I’d just come out and bum a smoke or whatever, so I could make sure nothing bad was happening.”

  Rhiannon wondered if her perceptions had been off. Was Adam a vampire?

  She casually moved closer to check him out.

  No, definitely not.

  “I’m fine,” Sailor said. “The door is twenty feet away.”

  “Why are you out here at all?” Rhiannon asked her. “You don’t even smoke.”

  “I’m meeting someone,” Sailor said.

  “What the— Who?” Rhiannon asked sharply.

  “I don’t know.” Sailor handed her a cocktail napkin bearing the words, I have information that is important to the Gryffald clan. Please join me for a cigarette.

  “Sailor—you got this note and you just came out here—all by yourself?”

  “Well, of course. We’re right in front of the club. There are big hairy wer—um, bouncers standing at the door, watching everything that goes on.”

  “Who gave you the note?” she asked.

  Sailor flushed. “I’m not really sure. One of the servers—I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Rhiannon stared at her for a moment, but she wasn’t going to say anything about the stupidity of answering such a summons—especially alone, when people were dead and Sailor herself had been attacked—in front of Adam.

  Instead she hurried past her cousin and headed straight for the smokers’ corner, rounding a Japanese maple only to find the area empty. Whoever had sent Sailor the note had obviously realized she wasn’t alone and managed to slip away unseen. More proof that a rogue vampire was on the loose? Because a vampire could easily have taken bird or bat form and flown away into the darkness.