Mixed Blessing (Mixed Blessing Mystery, Book 1)

by Nicola Claire

  "What do you know about the two murders that have happened recently, including that one tonight. And don't lie, kitten, I can tell a lie a mile off and you have been reeking of them tonight."

  "Tell me why I am cooperating with you again?" I asked, trying to delay the inevitable.

  "Because we both don't want the Iunctio here and with present evidence they will be on our doorstep within the week, if we don't get a handle on this situation."

  Shit, the Iunctio. Like I've said before, as a Nothus I did not want the vampire governing body anywhere near me. One look at what I was and my head would be separated from my body. There was no way in hell, I was ever going anywhere near Europe. New Zealand wasn't far enough away from the Iunctio's Palais for my liking, but any further and I'd be in the Antarctica.

  What to tell Jett though? Could I trust him? Huh. I knew I couldn't, but could I afford to alienate him? And what would I gain from sharing some of what I know? He obviously knew or suspected something about these murders, maybe he could help Stu. And in the end, as far as I was concerned, helping Stu to get free was all that mattered. That's why I was risking my neck upsetting the apple cart after all.

  "OK," I said slowly. "The guy being held for the murder of Alison Danvers is my best friend's cousin." He just looked at me, unblinking. "He didn't do it. Stu wouldn't hurt a fly." Jett continued to just stare at me clearly unconvinced. What did he want me to say? Being linked to the murder accused was surely enough for me to have been snooping around these murders. What else did he need to believe I was being honest here?

  We sat in silence for a good few minutes, then he said, voice even and neutral, "There is more, tell me."

  He didn't use Sanguis Vitam, he didn't command, but I found myself opening my mouth and spilling my secrets without even realising it and before I had a chance to stop what was going to be the ultimate undoing of my life.

  "Stu is human. The murderer is either vampire or fey." My hand went up to my mouth and covered it in shock. My eyes wide I stared at Jett trying to decipher what exactly he just did that would have made me admit something so damning. How the hell did I know the murderer was vampire or fey?

  Jett's lips twitched, his eyes flashed a little azure and he uncrossed his arms, placing them either side of his body on the desk, then leaned back all relaxed.

  "Well, well, well, kitten. Not a lie. So, I wonder just how you determined that little nugget of information. Care to share some more?"

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. Maybe if I wasn't looking at him, looking at those brilliant blue eyes I could hold my tongue.

  It seems I couldn't. "I could scent slightly burnt peaches, apple and cinnamon at the crime scene." Like a robot, I just kept on going, eyes still closed, fists clenched in my lap. "Mark smelled those scents on both victims bodies. I followed the scent down the Grafton Gully until it vanished."

  "Vanished?" Jett queried.

  "It simply disappeared. There one minute gone the next. Only a vampire or the fey could accomplish that."

  "And only a vampire with certain talents. It would limit the field. But the fey? Any of them is capable of disappearing in thin air."

  I chanced a look through a half open eyelid. Jett was staring at me with a satisfied expression on his face.

  I realised I didn't feel compelled to spill any more of my guts, so pierced him with a glare.

  "What the fuck did you just do to me?" I demanded.

  He smiled. "Kitten," - somehow I didn't think I was going to lose that nick-name any time soon - "you don't know half of what I can do." But he didn't elaborate further.

  "So, now what?" I asked when he just continued to look at me with a small smirk on his lips.

  "Now, kitten, if you want to keep your job and avoid having the Iunctio playing in our backyard, you do something for the Master of the City. You consider this your city, don't you?"

  I just nodded.

  "Then, even though you are not of my line, you are in my city. Our city. So consider your cooperation with me to be for the benefit of your city. You don't want the Iunctio sending one of their own to investigate what is happening here. Trust me, that is the last thing a newly turned vampire not connected to a line would want. You lack protection, Georgia. And you obviously have some skills which would be considered... helpful to an organisation like the Iunctio. Unless you agree to join my line, you have no one who is willing to stand up for you against the power of the Iunctio."

  "I have Lucinda." I hated calling on that old tie. Jett was right. I was prepared to rely on her protection, but not give friendship with her a chance.

  He shook his head. "As of this coming Sunday, you won't even have her."

  I felt the world get a little hazy around the edges. Lucinda is not my Sire, I am not part of her line. But I am what I am because of her. My connection to her is through her goddess Nut. It was obviously a stronger connection than I had realised, because the idea that Jett was threatening Lucinda's safety - that's certainly what it sounded like to me, a threat - was enough for me to draw a stake from inside my jacket and have it against his broad, muscular chest, resting over his heart, in a split fraction of a split second.

  Ah, fuck-a-duck.

  Chapter 6

  Regret

  Just as quickly as my stake had pierced a centimetre into Jett's chest, I was back against the plasterboard wall of his office, his hand around my throat. His eyes glowing azure and turquoise, his Sanguis Vitam slamming into my chest making it hard to breathe and feeling like I had a silver stake protruding from my chest. I dropped the stake in my hand, his gaze followed the silver glinting in the lights of the room as it toppled end over end towards the carpet.

  "What the fuck?" he demanded, his voice thick and edged in a slight lisp. Good to know his fangs got in the way when he was well and truly surprised too. "How did you hold that?" And when I didn't immediately reply, he thrust my head and body back against the wall in an almighty crash. More chips of plasterboard raining down around us. More ringing in my head.

  This time when my Sanguis Vitam rose to heal and protect, his own simply swatted it aside.

  "Do not toy with me, Georgia. You have seen only a fraction of what I am capable of." He took a deep breath in. "Now explain!"

  God damn it! The one secret I wanted to protect above all others and I lose my temper with this man. This vampire. The Master of the friggin' City. The one vampire who could make my life a living hell. Thoughts tumbled through my mind. Escape routes. Plausible explanations. Excuses. None of it was good enough to throw him off the scent. The only thing I could think of was distraction.

  "What are you going to do to Lucinda?" I croaked out, his hold was tighter than before. More restrictive.

  He loosened his grip slightly, a frown appearing on his forehead. "I'm not going to do anything." And then comprehension dawned. "She and Michel are leaving for London. They have decided to remain close to the Iunctio and his role on the council there."

  I couldn't have stopped the feeling of abandonment if I had tried. Lucinda was leaving Auckland. Leaving New Zealand. And she hadn't even told me. Sure, I hadn't made it easy for her. Not returning her calls lately and whenever we ended up at the same hunt, doing the job and getting the hell out of there before she could accost me. But still, shouldn't she, my sponsor, my one link to the Nosferatin side of me, have told me she was going? I felt let down, hurt and betrayed. And then swiftly vilified for not placing my trust in her at all.

  Damn Lucinda. Damn Samson. He no doubt would faithfully follow in the wake of his mistress without a backward glance. I was on my own.

  Jett's hand removed from my throat, slowly, his fingers running down my neck, soothing my skin in their wake with a smattering of his Sanguis Vitam.

  "You don't have to be alone. Join my line. I will protect you. Better even than she has."

  I shook my head. If I couldn't trust a Light-filled Nosferatin, then how could I trust a vampire?

  He sighed. "Georgia." O
ne word, nothing else. He bent and producing a handkerchief from his pocket, picked up the stake and inspected it. Turning it over in his hand, he studied it closely. "This is one of Lucinda's." His gaze shot up to mine, then back to the stake. Then back to my face. He took a small step back, a slight bitter-sweet chocolate smell invaded my nostrils. He was afraid of me. He was feeling fear.

  I held his gaze, remained in a neutral stance. I don't know why, but I suddenly didn't want him to be scared of me like the vampires are scared of Lucinda. Not this big, strong, fearsome vampire. Not the Master of the City. We stared at each other for some time, nothing moved, no one breathed, then his hand came up slowly, so very slowly, and he cupped my cheek.

  "Kitten," he said, softly. I thought he'd add something then. Something like: I'm not afraid, it's OK. But he just kept stroking my cheek, the smell of calming chamomile tea wafting around us.

  "Go back to work, Georgia. Doug will be missing you."

  He turned, taking my stake with him and returned to his side of the desk. The stake he placed carefully in the top drawer, closing it slowly, his eyes never leaving the flash of silver inside.

  I had no idea what to say or do. I needed that stake, but the look of compassion, of understanding, of dawning comprehension on his face, was enough to make me run. I opened the door to his office and slipped quietly out into the darkness of the hall that awaited. The moment the door clicked shut behind me I ran. Not to the club and Doug, but out the back, through the underground car park and then into the night.

  The shadows were my friend. I hid in them. I stayed in them. And when dawn threatened to breach the horizon, I used them to get home.

  I spent a good portion of the daylight hours cursing my stupidity. What the hell had I been thinking? Confiding in Jett? Was I mental? If he hadn't already worked it out from that little truth revealing display, then he sure as hell suspected something. I can handle silver. I was in possession of a silver stake, specifically designed by Nosferatins in Egypt to kill vampires. I am under the protection of the Sanguis Vitam Cupitor, the Prohibitum Bibere and the Lux Lucis Tribuo. In other words the one Nosferatin prophesied to bring about balance in the world, to level the Dark with Light. Why would Lucinda take an interest in me? All of these question would be tumbling through that razor sharp mind of his and what would the answer he came up with be?

  Nothus may be damn near non-existent, but we have existed over the years. Just because my particular mixed heritage has never been heard of or seen before, does not mean he won't put two and two together and come up with freak. I appear like a vampire to those who recognise Nosferatu. Yet I can handle silver, I carry a stake and I am under the watchful eye of the biggest, baddest, most Light-filled Nosferatin there is. What other explanation is there for him to reach? I am a Nothus - half Nosferatu, half Nosferatin.

  I managed some sleep, a shower, a bit of housework. Anything to try to ignore the worries that niggled inside me. Anything to avoid phoning Lucinda and crying on her shoulder, seek out support and comfort from someone who has already turned their back on me. By five in the evening I had myself more or less under control.

  There was nothing I could do about Jett. He would either tell the Iunctio what I am and end it all, or he would find a way to use my unique combination of skills. He is a vampire. That's what we do. Get the best we can for our own purposes from any given situation. I had to trust he didn't want the Iunctio in New Zealand as much as I didn't want them. He had mentioned his desire to keep them from our shores. That's why he was showing an interest in these murder cases, wasn't it? To sort it out before it garnered the attention of the vampire council.

  So, I'd go with that. But I was sure avoiding the Master of the City for a while was a wise idea. Not that I wouldn't take his suggestion about getting closer to Detective Mark Anderson into consideration. I had planned to try to get Mark away from the the bright lights of the murder cases anyway. Time to put that in action.

  I dialled the Central Police Station on my land-line and asked to be put through to Detective Anderson's phone. Maybe leaving a message was a coward's approach. I'd never been good at cold calling people, but I had prepared a message in my head. Mark had seemed genuinely happy to see me at the station, before Jett managed to mess with his mind. I hoped the idea of catching up on old times was enough to draw him out and took a moment to infuse my voice in a little preternatural allure. Casting a web to catch your prey was as natural to a vampire as drinking blood. It was better to use voice enhancements face to face, but not impossible to leave a signature in a recorded message. I just had to hope no one else cleared Mark's messages for him, otherwise I might get a visit from a stranger.

  With that task done, I waited impatiently for the sun to set. I wasn't due at Sensations for the start of my shift until 9pm, so I'd have just over an hour to do a little snooping. I'd already visited the latest scene of the crime. I decided a quick look at crime scene number one was in order. From the information that Kara had passed on from Stu's lawyer, Alison was murdered in the parking lot behind SubZero's head office, just off Khyber Pass. Business would have closed hours ago, even top shelf liquor companies keep regular hours, so I was sure I'd be able to keep to the shadows and avoid detection.

  It didn't take me long to flash to the scene, using shadows to hide my preternatural speed from the Norms. I stood quietly, overlooking the area still marked out by police tape and waited to see if anything caught my attention. It was like any other carpark. Fairly large due to the size of SubZero's head office. From what I had read in the file Kara had given me the other night, over 60 people work in the head office alone. Quite an inordinate amount for one vodka company. But SubZero was more than a distiller of booze. They were an entire community of revellers. They organised parties and corporate events, they hosted galas and charity auctions on site. They provided a service quite unrelated to the sale of their vodka, but through that service they were able to promote their latest flavour. Not all SubZero Vodkas were created equal. Vodka mixers are all the rage nowadays. We even sell several versions in the club. Four of which are SubZero's.

  My personal favourite is Vanilla Vodka, but the Norms seem to like Vive La Vodka, an unusual combination of roses, apples and something they promote as "life boosting", which to me smells of peaches and cream. The Norms go crazy over it. You'd think it was a drug the way we get through that one. Since it came on the market six weeks ago, it has been the most popular drink by far. We go through phases of what's hot and what's not. Two months ago it was rum mixed with cherry cola. Gag.

  Nothing seemed to pop out of the shadows around the yellow taped area, so I cast my glance further afield. The SubZero building was all harsh architecturally designed angles and tinted glass windows. A vampire's worst nightmare in the light of day. The front of the building came up in a peak, a bit like the brow of a huge ship. It was three storeys high with copious amounts of glass and surreptitiously placed glass fronted Juliet balconies. They'd look sweet on an old brick building, but somehow they were lost in amongst all that post modernist glass.

  Careful planting of trees had been carried out around the building's edges. Green leaves butting up to the first storey's windows, providing shade in summer and making the rooms within, no doubt, downright gloomy in winter. I was guessing the plebs were on the lower floors. Alison's office would be higher up, probably perched right on the brow of the ship. That's where I'd have my office if I was the CEO. Getting in there might be a bit harder and definitely something for another night. Tonight I'd scope the environment outside and get a lay for the land.

  The carpark was secured behind an eight foot high chain-link fence. Security signs were dotted about the perimeter. Anzus Security were in charge of keeping the building and its occupants safe. They hadn't done a good job of keeping Ms. Danvers safe, had they? The file had said she had died at approximately 11pm. Prime vampire hunting time. The Fey couldn't care less about the time of day or night. They are not restricted by the sun. The se
curity firm was not on site 24/7, but were said to patrol every hour according to that dossier Stu's lawyer had provided. Of course, since Alison's murder, they no doubt were being a little more vigilant.

  I made my way over the fence unhindered and in the shadow of a large Rimu tree. A quick flash around the circumference of the property yielded no clues, but allowed me to spot possible egresses for future investigation. Of course, the alarm system would be an issue. I hadn't quite figured that one out yet.

  Now, as I watched the still taped off area, the only thing left to do was inhale. I took a deep breath in through my nose and began the laborious task of sifting through the city smells and identifying those more likely to be particular to this spot, this scene. Discarding the grit and grime of city smog, dirty streets and too many people in an walled-in area of space, I began cataloguing what could only be body odours. The scents that make up each individual person, be they supernatural or Norm. I couldn't tell what Alison's natural scent was, I'd have to get into her apartment and try to decipher it there. It looked like breaking and entering was going to become another skill set before this was all done.

  After singling out over a hundred different scents, I found it. That combination of slightly burnt peaches, apple and cinnamon. Even after several days it still lingered, like it knew someone would come looking and it wanted to tease. It was teasing me. My nose twitched at the smell of it and I began to slowly creep from shadow to shadow following its path.

  The largest concentration was obviously where Alison's body had been found. Right in the centre of the taped off area. Which strangely enough did not harbour any blood stains. They could have been washed away, by recent rain or a clean-up crew. But if a clean-up crew had been here, wouldn't they have got rid of the tape? Anyway, it didn't matter, there'd been no blood at the scene last night, despite the gash across the victim's throat.