Rajmund

by D. B. Reynolds

  She could hear his grin when he said, “I can find out.” She had no doubt that was true. In fact, she had no doubt Raj could do pretty much anything he set his mind to. “All right,” she said. She forced herself to pull away from him, to put a few inches distance between them, so she could think. She turned and threw her purse across the seat. “I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

  "Yes, you will."

  Sarah trembled at the heat in those three words and wondered if she'd finally lost her mind for real, just as her parents and her therapists had thought she had way back when.

  Raj stood back and watched Sarah drive out of the parking lot. He found himself eager for their next meeting, and not just because he was attracted to her, although, there was no question about that. In fact, his feelings for her went a little deeper than he was comfortable with. He'd wanted her in New York. If not for her rather unique position at the time, as a member of Raphael's entourage, he'd have taken her. But she wasn't with Raphael anymore. The scent of her perfume lingered and he grinned. Oh, yes, he was definitely going to taste his sweet Sarah, and very soon, too.

  But he was also curious about what she was hiding. And she was definitely hiding something. He could have taken it from her mind easily. The lightest exploratory touch had already told him she was amazingly susceptible to his will, maybe more so than most humans. But it also told him she was both physically and emotionally exhausted from whatever secret she was keeping. A secret Raj would uncover before too long.

  Of course, it didn't hurt that the secret came wrapped in a package he intended to unwrap slowly and with great relish. He wouldn't take her quickly, as he did the women he drank from usually, not like that woman in the bar earlier. Raj didn't pretend to be anything but what he was. He was a predator and humans were his prey. And he was very good at what he did. But for some reason he didn't want to trick Sarah Stratton into doing his bidding. He wanted her to go with him knowingly, to invite him into her home because she wanted him there, not because her mind was clouded with lust. Although, she did desire him already. She hadn't completely surrendered to it yet, but the subtle notes of her body told him she would soon. He smiled to himself. Oh, yes, he was going to enjoy unwrapping Sarah Stratton very much indeed.

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  Chapter Fourteen

  "Fucking Commissioner's throwing a wild card at us, Dan.” Raj heard Scavetti's blustering from down the hall. “Captain says he didn't know about it until a few minutes ago, but he could be lying through his teeth, covering his own ass. They want in on the meeting."

  "What meeting and who wants in on it?” Raj asked, strolling into the conference room.

  Scavetti gave him a scathing look. “Just a quick bite, huh, Gregor?"

  "You're a crude man, Scavetti,” Raj said, not even glancing at the detective as he dropped into a chair at the end of the table, leaving a wall at his back and his face to the open door. “But Felder here seems like a decent sort, so I'll assume that you're a good cop.” He leaned back into the chair, perfectly at ease. “Shall we continue?"

  "You got somewhere else to be, vampire?"

  Raj gave him a smug glance. “I do now."

  "Son of a bitch,” Scavetti muttered. “What is it about vampires and women?” He shook his head in disgust, but his voice held an undercurrent of admiration that he couldn't disguise.

  Raj permitted himself a slight smile, knowing it would irritate Scavetti. The burly detective responded on cue, giving him a final glare before turning his delightful personality on his partner. “Cowens and Blackwood are in on the meeting."

  "Do they know—” Felder began.

  "That we have one of the bloodsuckers here? Yeah, they know. No offense,” he added, giving Raj a look that made it clear offense was very much intended.

  "Mr. Gregor—” Dan Felder started.

  "Call me Raj."

  "Raj?” Tony drawled, stretching out the single syllable.

  "A nickname, Detective. We bloodsuckers are quite big on them."

  Scavetti's eyes went flat as he tried to decide if he was being played, but Felder intervened once again. “Come on, Tony. Mr. Gregor . . . er, Raj is here to help us. We asked him to come down here, remember?"

  Raj pitied Felder, having to work every day with such a noisome partner. But the truth was he did have an interest in getting this case solved quickly, so he tried to be more diplomatic. “Lord Krystof is very interested in resolving this matter, gentlemen. He's asked me to assist in any way I can."

  "Lord Krystof, huh?” Scavetti sneered predictably. “Well, isn't that fucking sweet. I thought we were in America, Dan."

  "Jesus Christ, Tony, what the hell is wrong with you?” Evidently even Dan Felder could only take so much.

  Scavetti snapped his mouth shut, sucking back whatever he'd been about to say. He scowled at Raj, as if daring him to say anything. When Raj remained silent, Scavetti gave his partner an apologetic look. “I'm all right,” he muttered. He turned his back in an obvious attempt to keep his next words private. It didn't work. Raj could have heard him easily, even he'd been standing outside the room and down the hall. But Scavetti didn't know that.

  "It just threw me off, that's all,” Scavetti said softly to Dan. “The Commissioner showing up at the last minute like this. This case is important to me; you know that."

  "Which is why you should welcome help from the vamps,” Felder replied. “What do we know about their community? Nothing, that's what. So play nice for a change, you idiot."

  "Yeah.” Tony gave a nervous laugh and steeled himself visibly before turning back to face Raj. “You okay with William Cowens and his fucking spiritual adviser being in the room?"

  Raj shrugged easily. “I have no problem with that. The more information we have, the sooner we can solve this case and get back to our own lives. Believe me, Detective, I am no happier to be here than you are."

  Disbelief flashed quickly in Tony's brown eyes, but he nodded in agreement. “Cowens and the Commissioner had a private meeting first.” He crooked his fingers in the air, giving the last two words air quotes for emphasis. “Blackwood's with them. They should be here any minute."

  Raj sighed, thinking every extra minute spent in Scavetti's company had to be taking at least an hour off his immortal life. But he waited, letting thoughts of the lovely Sarah Stratton, and what he had planned for her, make those minutes pass more pleasantly.

  He jerked his thoughts away from Sarah and fixed his sight on the door moments before a big man in a dark suit walked into the room. He recognized Police Commissioner Thornton from his picture in the lobby behind the bulletproof glass. With him were William Cowens, his bodyguard, and Edward Blackwood. Commissioner Thornton took a look around, his gaze lighting briefly on Raj before moving on to Scavetti. “Have you begun the briefing yet?"

  "No, sir,” Scavetti said. “Captain said to wait for you and Mr. Cowens."

  "Then let's get this started. William,” he said, addressing Cowens, “these are Detectives Scavetti and Felder.” He indicated each man in turn. “They're heading up Patricia's case and I have every confidence in their abilities. He pulled out two chairs, offered one to Cowens and sat in the other. “Edward Blackwood,” he continued, with a nod toward the HR founder, “is Mr. Cowens's advisor in this matter and will be serving as his press spokesman unless we decide a more personal statement is warranted.” He didn't bother to introduce the bodyguard, of course. It wasn't appropriate and no one took offense. The man eyed the room carefully, his gaze lingering on Raj before he moved to take up a position between his client and the door, while still having a clear view of everyone in the room.

  "And you, sir,” Thornton said, addressing Raj directly, “must be the representative from our local vampire community.” He all but choked on the words, which Raj found amusing. That most humans preferred to believe vampires didn't exist was understandable, even preferable, to the vampire community. As he'd told Krystof, vampires survived largely by living
below the radar, so to speak. If the humans thought too much about what walked among them, they might be prodded into doing something about it. And as powerful as vampires were, they were few in number, especially compared to the billions of humans now walking the Earth.

  But it always surprised him when the human authorities permitted themselves to remain equally ignorant. Thornton was the Police Commissioner of a major American city—a city which was controlled by a vampire lord, no less; a city that hosted the most powerful vampires on the continent at the Vampire Council meeting every eighth year—and the man couldn't even say the word vampire without choking on it. But Raj kept these thoughts private. He rose slightly, just enough to extend his hand halfway across the table, establishing the pecking order by forcing the Commissioner to do likewise.

  "Raymond Gregor,” he said. He noticed the Commissioner avoided looking at him directly and once again had to stifle the urge to laugh out loud. Television and movies had spread many myths about vampires, most of them utter foolishness, although some played into the vampires’ hands quite nicely. The need for eye contact was one of them. It helped sometimes to focus the target's attention, but if Raj wanted to seize control of a human's mind, he certainly didn't need to waste time staring into his eyes to do so.

  "Always an honor to meet some of our fine men in blue, Detectives.” Blackwood's voice broke the sudden tension. “Even if you wear a suit,” he added, with his patented charming smile. He shook hands with the two detectives. “And Mr. Gregor,” he enthused, shaking Raj's hand in turn. “This is indeed a pleasure. My institute would love to open a dialogue with your people. I believe we have much in common."

  Raj accepted the handshake without comment. Humanity Realized had been after the vampire community for years, trying to “open a dialogue.” Vampires were all but immortal, and HR wanted to know why so they could sell the secret to wealthy humans and thus fulfill their mission of realizing what they considered to be the full human potential. Since the last thing the people of Earth—or vampires either, for that matter—needed was a competing bunch of rich, immortal assholes running around, every vampire council on the planet had issued a firm edict. There was to be no cooperation of any sort with humans when it came to researching vampire physiology. It was the one thing, possibly the only thing, every council member agreed upon wholeheartedly, and they enforced that edict absolutely. The penalty was death—permanent and instant death—for any vampire caught breaking the edict. No trial, no appeal. Vampire justice had its own code, and it was uncompromising.

  "I'd like to make something clear right now,” Cowens said, his tone suggesting he was accustomed to having strict attention paid to everything he said. And indeed, silence fell as everyone in the room turned to look at him. “My daughter is missing.” He breathed deeply in and out through his nose, his jaw clenched, visibly struggling to bring his emotions under control. “I know how this works,” he said bluntly. “I know you all think she's dead already.” His eyes grew hard and he stared at Felder and Scavetti. “I don't believe that. I won't believe that until I have a body to take home. I want a full investigation, do you understand me? I don't care if you resent me talking to you this way. You can complain to your Union, to the Commissioner, to God himself. I don't care. I want my daughter found. Dead . . .” He closed his eyes against the pain. “Dead or alive,” he continued hoarsely. “Or heads will roll. Do you understand me?"

  Felder and Scavetti returned his stare and Raj gave them credit for not being cowed by the explicit threat. Cowens had more than enough influence to get a couple of city detectives broken down to street cops if they failed him, and they had to know that.

  "And you,” Cowens said, turning his angry gaze on Raj, who regarded him impassively. “I don't give a fuck who you are or who your so-called master is. If one of you monsters has my daughter, if you've harmed a single hair on her head.” Cowens rose and leaned forward across the table. “I have resources you cannot imagine, vampire. No hole will be deep enough to hide you.” He kicked his chair out of the way suddenly, raked all of them with an angry glare and strode from the room, his bodyguard racing to hit the doorway before he did. Blackwood scrambled to his feet only steps behind, but the Commissioner merely stood and watched them leave.

  When he turned back, his expression was somber. “This is a difficult case, gentlemen. Not just for you, but for the Department. I'm trusting you to take care of it.” And he, too, departed, leaving just the three of them once again.

  "Well. That was useful,” Raj commented dryly. He straightened from his casual slouch to put both elbows on the table. “So tell me, gentlemen, why exactly was Sarah Stratton here tonight?"

  Scavetti swung around and stared at him for a few silent minutes, and then shook his head, chuckling in disbelief. “She called, said she had an in with the local honcho.” He gave Raj a skeptical look. “Your boss, I assume."

  "One would think. What's Blackwood's involvement?"

  "Fuck if I know. He seems to like you well enough. Maybe you should ask him yourself, Raj."

  Raj studied Scavetti lazily, thinking how easy it would be to grab the foulmouthed detective some night and make him disappear. Would anyone miss him, he wondered. Could even a Neanderthal like Scavetti have people who loved him?

  "Are you married, Detective?” he asked. “You have a wife? A family?"

  Scavetti regarded him suspiciously. “What the hell do you care?"

  Raj shrugged. “Just curious."

  "Well, leave me the fuck out of your curiosity. And if you want to know more about Stratton, you can ask her yourself. Asshole."

  Felder rolled his eyes. “How about we get on with the briefing, Tony? Raj here isn't the only one with a social life. I've got a late date with my next ex-wife."

  Scavetti brooded a few minutes longer, staring blankly at the wall. And then with no outward warning, both hands slapped the table, rattling Felder's already chipped coffee cup and knocking over a couple of unopened water bottles. “Fuck, yeah!” he announced. “Let's do this."

  He stood and stomped over to a whiteboard which ran along the entire far wall. There was a roughly five by six foot piece of thick poster stock leaning against the board, and Scavetti moved it aside to reveal a series of photographs and notes taped to the whiteboard itself. “We've got three women over the last month who match the profile,” he said, suddenly all business. “All three missing, no bodies found yet."

  "What is the profile,” Raj asked curiously.

  Scavetti gave him a dirty look, but said, “We're going on the assumption that there's a vampire link for now, so that's fucking number one. The rest is the usual—age, appearance, access. William Cowens's daughter, Patricia, eighteen and single, was last seen at a vamp party. It was an open affair, advertised in the dorms and various places on campus, on bulletin boards and so on. We spoke to her airhead roommate who says she persuaded Cowens to go to the party at the last minute, that she'd never been to one before. At this point, we don't think she was specifically targeted. There've been no calls to her father, no ransom demand, not even with all the publicity—which doesn't say much for her fucking chances. Unless one of you guys has her?” he asked with faked curiosity. “I understand you keep ‘em alive for a few days."

  Raj didn't bother to respond, and Scavetti continued with a grunt. “Anyway, for now, it looks like a random snatch—she left the party early and, as far as we can tell, alone, and no one has seen her since. We do know she never made it back to the dorm.

  "Going back to the most recent incident before Cowens . . .” He moved down the board to the picture of another young woman who looked older than Patricia Cowens, but not by much. “Regina Aiello, twenty-one years old, living with her mother who filed the missing report. Mother says she went out with friends, kind of a girl's night out before someone's wedding that weekend. We talked to the friends who say they all went to a fucking blood house—"

  "That's apparently the in thing for bachelorette parties these
days,” Dan interrupted to add. “No more Chippendale dancers, I guess. Now it's vampires."

  "The others didn't realize she was missing,” Tony raised his voice slightly over his partner and kept talking. “Until the mother started calling around the next day. Apparently several of her group peeled away during the festivities to do God knows what, and they just assumed Aiello had done the same. The mother says she didn't know they were going to a blood house and seemed pretty shocked by the idea. Talking to the girl's friends, I get the impression Aiello wasn't exactly a player."

  Raj listened with half an ear to the facts—interviews with Aiello's friends and so on—but pushed away from the table and stood, walking over to the board where he studied the pictures of the missing women. Trisha Cowens's disappearance might be questionable—those ridiculous vamp parties had nothing to do with anything truly Vampire—but Aiello disappearing from a blood house was troubling.

  Raj frowned and kept reading as Scavetti's expletive-laced recitation moved on to the next woman, the first one taken, as far as they knew. Martha Polk, nineteen, engaged to be married, but living with her parents. She was employed by an upscale catering company and had worked a private party downtown, after which several people, including some of the wait staff, went to another of the blood houses.

  Raj saw a definite pattern developing, but whether it was vampires or someone who wanted it to look like vampires was the big question. Not that everyone went right home from the blood houses. Scavetti wasn't far off on that point. When a vampire found a tasty and amenable partner, it wasn't unusual for the two of them to spend a few days together, especially on a weekend. The very young woman who'd been lounging around Krystof's office earlier was a good example. But Polk had been gone nearly a month and that was far too long.

  "Polk's group have all developed fucking amnesia about the night in question,” Scavetti was saying. “Not one of them will say for sure that Polk was with them at the blood house, but they won't say she wasn't either. Apparently her fiance's the jealous type and no one wants to pony up and get her in trouble. Like she's not in fucking trouble already."