I pinned him with my hard, alligator-grim gaze. “How do you know it’s the same gang?”
Harroway cleared his throat. “Technically, we won’t know until the medical examiner compares the wounds, but it’s the same pattern as all the others.”
“I’ll hold out for the medical examiner.”
“I’m telling you, DiRocco, all the victims have bullets to the head, execution-like. Someone is either new on the block and needs to prove themselves, or someone old on the block feels threatened.”
“That doesn’t prove they’re from the same gang.”
“The victims also have gold necklaces with a pendant that matches necklaces on victims from three previous scenes,” Harroway confided, finally serious. His face relaxed, and he gave great eye contact when he kept it real. “The cases are gang related, and it’s the same gang.”
My breath caught from his sincerity. “What kind of pendant?” I asked, remembering a couple of scenes I’d covered last week.
His face screwed up into another grin. “A wolf.”
I nodded. I’d definitely covered those cases. “Is that so?”
“Yep, you know, something native to Brooklyn that bites.”
I felt my cheeks burn and resisted the urge to strangle the man. Meredith was walking toward me, finally, so I jabbed my finger in his chest. “Sounds like you’re describing someone we both know.” I snapped my teeth together with an audible clack. “So watch it.”
Meredith met me outside the police tape, which was a healthy twenty yards from Officer Harroway, and I could still hear the grate of his gut-deep laugh at my expense. She looked over my shoulder, presumably at Harroway and the unnecessary ruckus he was making. She shook her head.
“That man has it bad,” she said.
I scoffed. “Whatever he has, it’s not manners.”
“You saved that man’s life, and he’ll never forget. He just has a peculiar way of showing it.”
“If by ‘never forget’ you mean ‘never forgive,’ then I agree with you,” I snapped. “He hands me so much shit, I don’t know what do to with all the excess after I’ve thrown some back at him.”
“He also gives you, and only you, the best leads,” Meredith pointed out.
“True,” I agreed grudgingly. “Although I wouldn’t say they were the best.”
Meredith smiled. “What did he give you this time?”
I smiled back. “Mediocre. This scene is apparently the fourth in a series of gang-related cases, and police have evidence to support that the victims in all four cases are from the same gang. All the victims in all the cases including this one are killed execution-style and are wearing matching gold necklaces. If I’m not mistaken, we covered the previous two scenes in last week’s paper, but we covered them as separate cases.”
“Mediocre?” Meredith scoffed. “Ask how many officers spilled their guts to the Post or Times. Face it; he’s wrapped around your middle finger.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I think you mean little finger.”
“Nah, for you, it’s the middle one.”
I rolled my eyes. “What did you get?”
“Black and white and Pulitzer all over.”
“What did you really get?” I asked, smiling.
She sighed. “Something real. It’s disturbing, and it should be.”
“Sounds like my cup of tea,” I assured her.
Meredith smiled wanly. “Where were you this morning? Anything that nearly gives Carter a coronary is usually okay in my book, but you’ve never missed a budget meeting, let alone two in one week.”
“Well,” I said, stretching out the word to stall. I certainly couldn’t tell her that I’d been kidnapped by vampires, but what else besides being kidnapped would make me miss a scoop? I shrugged. “It’s been a rough week.”
“Every week’s a rough week,” Meredith scoffed.
I nodded.
When I didn’t elaborate, Meredith stared at me expectantly. “It’s about those bites again, isn’t it?”
“Just let it go,” I hissed.
“I can’t, Cass,” Meredith said, her expression pained. The strain in her voice made my heart ache for her. “I stare at that photograph that I shot, that we published in my paper, and I cannot for the life of me just let it go.”
“Keep it down.” I looked around warily as Meredith’s voice rose and hitched, but no one was paying much attention to us when there were bodies to snapshot and witnesses to interview.
I scrubbed my hand down my face, torn between protecting her from the truth and letting ignorance rot between us.
“Cassidy,” she whispered, and I forced myself to meet her gaze. The pain there shredded my resolve. “Please.”
I sighed. “Greta left a message on my machine last night.”
“She called you about the bites?”
“Yeah, she wants me to talk to the medical examiner. They brought in an environmental scientist, and he, um”—I sighed again—“he tracks animals.”
“Detective Wahl called in an environmental science expert to track an animal here in New York?” Meredith squeaked.
I nodded.
“And you’re talking to the medical examiner today?”
I nodded again.
Meredith covered her face with both hands. “What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can’t I remember?”
Damn Dominic, I thought. “I’m sure that it’s just shock from being mugged, like Carter said.”
“If you’re agreeing with something Carter said, I know something’s wrong with me.” Meredith let her hands drop down to her sides. She shook her head, frustrated. “I never should have written that retraction.”
“No sorrys needed,” I assured her. “I would have written the retraction myself if Greta had called to bitch at me.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. You would’ve done exactly what you did do. You would’ve gone to the station, showed her the picture, played your tape, and confused the hell out of her until she saw bites even where there weren’t any.”
“There are bites,” I insisted.
“I know,” Meredith whispered, unable to meet my gaze.
“But I wouldn’t spread that around if I were you.”
She met my eyes then, her expression somber. “I know.”
Twenty minutes later, I walked into the lobby of the Kings County Hospital Center, which included the morgue. A tall woman with thick black bifocals sat behind the counter. I smiled as I approached, but she just stared back, blank-faced. I glued on my smile despite her frost.
“Cassidy DiRocco, here to see Detective Greta Wahl and the chief medical examiner,” I ground out pleasantly.
Someone behind me let out a high catcall. I turned, about to blast the man’s head off, but my temper fizzled to steam when the man’s deep, velvet brown gaze met mine. My smile was swift and genuine, not something I was accustomed to. My reaction to him took me aback, but considering the man had rescued me, I decided not to overanalyze my feelings.
“Stalking me, Walker?” I asked.
The pleasure and warmth in his eyes at seeing me was unmistakable, but something had obviously set him on edge, as well. A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I believe I was here first, so if anyone’s stalking anyone, sugar, it’s you.”
I turned back to the stoic woman at the desk. “Are Greta and the good doctor ready to see me?” I asked, smile in place, but my tone was creeping toward sarcastic.
“Detective Wahl and Dr. Chunn will be with you in a moment, if you could take a seat,” the woman said, indicating the few empty chairs behind me.
I looked behind me to where Walker was seated, and he smirked.
“Fabulous.” I walked to the chairs and sat across from Walker, my back to the receptionist. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I said, matching his smirk. “People will think we’re in love.”
Walker laughed. “Who knew reception areas were so ripe with datin’ potential. To think, all the time I’ve wasted at the bar a
nd online.”
He stood suddenly and switched chairs to sit next to me, putting his back to the receptionist, as well. The smell of fresh mint wafted from his movement.
He slouched and spoke directly into my ear. “You should have called out sick today.”
“I’m not sick,” I whispered back.
“We just got home this morning. A nap is not long enough for your body to regenerate its cell count after losing the amount of blood that you lost. You were attacked, injured, and kidnapped. You could barely walk this morning. You’re not well, and in order to get well, you should have called out.”
I stared at him a moment, stunned by his sharp tone. He simply stared back. “You’re serious,” I murmured, trying to douse the flame under my temper.
“Of course. You’re putting yourself at risk.”
“As you can see, I’m walking just fine. Besides, the vampires won’t rise again until sunset. I’m safer now than I will be at dusk,” I snapped. “Mind your business.”
“Should I have minded my business last night?” Walker asked coolly.
I bit the inside of my cheek and took my time before answering, so I didn’t snap again. “I’m very grateful, Walker, that you did not mind your business last night. Thank you,” I said, meeting his eyes. His own eyes widened in surprise, but I continued before he could respond. “But I still have a life and a career and a reputation, and not one of those things allows taking a sick day.” Walker opened his mouth and I interjected, “Especially the career.”
He pursed his lips, obviously not appeased. “They’ll know you haven’t fully recuperated. You’re the injured antelope to their predator’s sense.”
“I understand, but—”
“No, you obviously don’t understand, because if you did, you would have called out sick, despite your career. You were already prey, but now you’re prey with a flashing target on your back.”
I rolled my eyes. “The target was going to flash at full strength whether or not I called out from work. I’m supposed to be in that cage when Dominic rises at sunset. When he wakes tonight and realizes that I’m gone, do you really think staying in bed all day would make a difference? I doubt that my aching hip or low cell count will be the focus of his attention. He’ll find me tonight either way, and he’s not going to be happy when he does.”
Walker leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “Well, the low cell count certainly won’t help,” he groused.
“Can’t even give an inch,” I chided.
He shrugged. “Not when I know I’m right.”
A sudden burst of anger nearly short-circuited my brain, but then I noticed the dimple in his left cheek deepen as he smirked. He was half-kidding. My anger fizzled out again.
I bumped his shoulder with mine. “Arrogance isn’t attractive.”
“Neither is stubbornness, but I had the good manners not to point it out.”
“Just keepin’ it real,” I said.
Walker elbowed me back. “I don’t suppose it’s a coincidence that our paths have crossed again.”
I shook my head. “And with you here, I think it’s safe to assume what the medical examiner found.”
He nodded. “They got sloppy, that’s for sure.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Vampires are discreet. They rarely leave a fresh kill out for display. After decades of practice, they’ve developed quite a knack for not getting caught,” he said bitterly. “Frankly, I’m taken aback that they’ve exposed themselves on such a large scale. I thought they had a ruling class or government of sorts that killed vampires who risked their survival.”
I nodded. “They do. Dominic called their government council members Day Reapers, but he also said that a growing sect of his vampires are rebelling. They don’t want to remain a secret, like he does, and despite the threat of punishment from the Day Reapers, they are challenging Dominic as their Master. He loses strength every seven years on the Solstice, but this is the first year that his status as Master is being challenged.”
Walker frowned. “Get to the point, DiRocco.”
“My point is that you think the vampires just got sloppy.”
Walker nodded slowly. “Yes, ma’am, that’s my theory. It’s not consistent with their normal behavior, but that’s the most likely situation.”
“Well, I’m proposing a different situation in which this wasn’t just a sloppy mistake. I think the rebels are growing stronger as Dominic’s powers weaken, and the rebels are taking full advantage of the situation to enjoy their hunt. Dominic said that—”
Walker suddenly reached out and covered my hand with his own. “Anything Dominic said is a lie to get what he wants from you. He’s older than we can imagine, and in that time, I’m sure he’s learned a thing or two about persuasion. Since he can’t mind-fuck you like he can everyone else, he’ll use whatever mind games necessary to convince you that he’s more than what he really seems.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, sliding my hand away from his to cross my arms.
“A dangerous predator who wants to attack you, drain you, and turn you, if he doesn’t kill you first.”
“Why would he lie about this?” I snapped. “He doesn’t have anything to gain by lying about an uprising.”
“He’s taking the blame of the vampire attacks off himself, so you see him like a victim instead of a predator. And it’s working. You’re already sympathizing with his situation,” Walker explained patiently. I could tell he was deliberately keeping his temper in check to prevent mine from exploding.
“I don’t think he wants to kill me,” I confessed. “If that was his ultimate goal, he would have done that already. Instead, he saved me. I would’ve been killed by the other vampires last night if it wasn’t for him.”
Walker shook his head, disgusted. “There are other ways to steal your life besides killing you. The Master of a coven near my hometown does the same for me. She saves me from other vampire attacks and protects me while I’m tracking large game. Dominic doesn’t protect you because he cares about you, like a human feels compassion toward another human.”
Walker met my eyes, and I could read his unspoken implication: Like I feel toward you.
“He protects you because he’s invested,” Walker continued. “He wants you in every way he can’t have you. He wants your mind, your body, and eventually your humanity, but you only truly matter to him as a night blood, nothing more. If you were a human, he wouldn’t have thought twice about drinking from you, killing you, and continuing on his way.”
I mulled over his explanation, part of me shocked that he’d experienced the same from the Master of his local coven back home. The other part of me was annoyingly disappointed. “How many night bloods are out there?” I asked.
“At least seventy of us exist in the United States, maybe only a hundred total in North America. It’s difficult to know for sure. Many humans don’t even know what a night blood is, let alone whether they are one,” Walker said, tilting his head at me. “In my life, I’ve only spoken to one other night blood besides you, my partner from home. I don’t know of any others who live nearby.”
Partner. I thought of Dominic’s explanation of the near intimate relationship between vampires and their night bloods, and I wondered if Walker’s relationship with his night blood “partner” was any different. Although the dynamics between a night blood and a vampire compared to two night bloods were obviously different, I couldn’t help but think of the tension that existed between Walker and me and how easily the high stakes of being a night blood and the danger of interacting with vampires could turn the tension of any relationship more intimate. A sharp twinge I’d rather not identify nagged through my gut.
“Is night blood hereditary?” I asked instead, thinking of my conversation with Nathan.
Walker shrugged. “It must be a recessive gene, but it hasn’t been studied.”
“In all these years—a couple thousand years of genetic science—
it hasn’t been studied by anyone?” I asked, incredulous.
“We’re lucky to discover who we are and survive, let alone find other night bloods. I doubt anyone found the time or had the opportunity to perform scientific research.”
“Dominic said something similar about us being rare,” I mused.
Walker’s eyes darkened. His accent thickened as he became more frustrated with me. “I just warned you; anythin’ that creature tells you is suspect. The best lies are submerged in truth, and everythin’ out of his mouth is nothin’ but—”
I raised both my hands in surrender. “Back down, hoss. I’m just mulling the possibilities.”
“Mulling is not allowed,” Walker griped, but the corners of his lips tipped up again, revealing that hidden dimple.
I smiled back, helpless not to, and something clicked between us. His eyes were so brown and beautiful, and he smelled fresh, like mint. Suddenly, I was very aware of how close his lips were to mine. I should have turned my head or pulled away or done absolutely anything except nothing, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. I knew he felt it, too, because his smile tipped and turned serious. He stared back into my eyes, unblinking and motionless except for the slow rise and fall of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.
He eased closer, and I opened my mouth to say something—God knows what—when the woman at the desk buzzed her microphone.
“The medical examiner will see you now, Ms. DiRocco, Mr. Walker,” she said, her metallic, monotone, machine-like voice cut through the PA system. “Through the double doors and second examination room on the right.”
I jumped away from Walker’s lips and from the precipice of insanity. What the hell was I thinking? We were waiting outside a morgue, preparing to examine a body, for heaven’s sake. I heard him clear his throat, and when I glanced over, his eyebrows were raised.
“We’re being summoned.” I stood, relieved to end the tension and gain a little distance before my skin singed from the heat between us. I snatched my leather satchel from the chair, the same satchel that he’d saved along with my life. I groaned to myself. “Do you have a usual protocol for this kind of thing?”
Walker looped the strap of a black briefcase over his head and stood. The woman buzzed us through, and he strode in step with me out of the waiting room. The tap of the briefcase was rhythmic against his hip. “Protocol for what thing?”
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