by Skye Knizley
She looked at Levac. “What’s the scoop with the Camaro?”
Levac brightened. “I found it out in Bronzeville, some kid had it stashed in his uncle’s garage. Seems he found it in the Elysium parking lot, doors open and engine running so he decided to take it home with him. I have him in holding, now, but I don’t think he’s involved. He’s a stupid kid and it was a crime of opportunity.”
The doors opened and Raven stepped out into the basement. “What was he doing at Elysium?”
Levac trailed behind. “He works there as a valet. He was walking out to the bus stop on his way home when he spotted the Chevy.”
Raven stopped outside the interrogation room and smiled at the uniformed officer outside. “Dead end. Time to have some words with Mr. Archer.”
The officer handed over a soft fabric bag. Raven slipped her pistol inside then Levac added his and they both signed the clipboard.
“He’s all yours, Ray. I’ll be right outside.”
He unlocked the door and Raven entered followed by Levac. The interrogation room wasn’t much, just three lime green cinder block walls, a metal table bolted to the floor and three chairs. The fourth wall was made up almost entirely by the observation window, beyond which was another officer and recording equipment trained on the room.
Kieran Archer was seated at the table with his hands cuffed to the table. Raven had left him there for over an hour with nothing but Girl from Ipanema to listen to. He’d have to be strong stuff not to have his brain turned to mush after twenty minutes.
Raven tossed the inch-thick file on the table and leaned against the wall while Levac took a seat at the table and poured Archer a glass of water.
“Mr. Archer, my name is Rupert Levac, I’m a special agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I’ll be asking you a few questions, and it’s in your best interest to cooperate.”
Archer glanced at Raven. “Are you the one who holds her leash?”
Levac smiled. “Now sir, that isn’t very nice. No one holds Agent Storm’s leash, and to clarify she is technically my boss. I understand you were mirandized, before we start do you understand your rights or want them read to you again?”
Archer waved his hand. “I understand, let’s get this over with.”
Levac looked at the mirror. “Let the record show Mr. Archer has waived his right to counsel.”
He looked back at Archer and opened the file. “You’ve had a colorful career, Mr. Archer, but it looks like you’ve been nonviolent, until now.”
Levac slid a photo of Domino Carmichael out of the file and spun it to face Archer. “When did you move up to killing women, sir?”
Archer tried to jump away from the image and was stopped by the cuffs around his wrists. His chair fell over and he ended up in a squatting position. Raven picked up the chair, slammed it into the floor and pushed him onto it.
“Look at her!”
Archer tried to look away, but it was either the photo or Raven. He touched the photo as if it might bleed on him and chewed his lip. After a moment he asked, “What happened?”
“You tell me, Mr. Archer sir,” Levac said.
Archer raised his eyes. “Why me?”
Levac pulled a fingerprint card out of the file. “Because your fingerprints were found on her torso.”
“Oh my god! Look, yeah okay, I touched her. We danced and made out at Club Purgatory a couple nights ago, but I didn’t kill her!” Archer said.
Raven leaned over his shoulder. “How did you touch her, Archer? What was she wearing? Because what I saw covered all of her.”
He didn’t move. “I reached under her blouse while we were dancing. I touched her skin with my fingers.”
“Why?”
Raven said it so quietly it was almost a breath.
“Because I wanted to fuck her, okay? She was hot!”
“Is that why you took her face?” Levac asked.
Archer shook his head. “What? That’s horrible, why would anyone do that?”
Levac shrugged. “Maybe you wanted to keep it as souvenir, make a coat or something. It takes all kinds, Mr. Archer.”
Archer shook his head again. “No. I didn’t kill anyone.”
Raven sat on the table in front of him. “You tried to kill me. Twice. Why not Domino?”
Archer looked at her. “Look, that was different, yeah? You’re a cop, I’m a crook and you were chasing me. It’s part of the deal. But I’m not some kind of kook−”
Raven grabbed him by the throat and all but slammed his head on the table. “Look what you did and tell me you’re not a kook!”
Archer struggled to push away from the image. “I didn’t kill her!”
Raven let go and looked at Levac. He was telling the truth, she could smell it on him. He was frightened, upset and angry at what had happened. There wasn’t a hint of lie in his eyes, body language or respiration.
“Alright, Mr. Archer, calm down. Sit back and have a sip of water,” Levac said.
Archer leaned back and held the cup with both hands. When he was settled, Raven stood and paced back to her spot at the wall.
“Kieran, can I call you Kieran?” Levac asked.
Archer nodded and sipped the water.
Levac smiled and folded his hands on the table. “Can you help us out, sir? If it wasn’t you, who was it? Was anyone with her?”
Archer finished the water and set it aside. “Yeah, before we started dancing, she was with this guy in a suit. He called himself Paine?”
Raven shook her head. “He’s dead, too, Archer. What else you got? It’s your neck in the noose.”
Archer looked down. “Uh…uh…she was friendly with the bartender, some chick named Pashta.”
He looked up again. “And a woman. She was sitting with a woman named Shysie, also from out of town.”
Levac began searching his pockets for a notepad. “Does Shysie have a last name?”
“Yes! Yes, it was Shysie Aitkin. A small girl, dark skinned with long brown hair and big eyes,” Archer said.
Levac pulled his pad out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Do you think she might have done this?”
Archer shrugged, a gesture his lanky form was almost made for. “I don’t know, I mean, it seemed like there was some argument between them, but nothing major that I saw.”
Raven stood up again and loomed over him. “Then why would we question her when we have you and your prints?”
Archer looked even paler and Raven could smell his fear, rank and sour.
“Because they knew each other. When I caught Domino’s eye, they were talking, but whatever they were talking about stopped when I made my move,” he said. “Like they didn’t want me to know, like it was some big secret.”
Raven looked at Levac, who nodded. They agreed he was telling all he knew.
Levac stood and gathered his paperwork. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
Archer sat forward in his chair. “So what happens next?”
Raven shrugged. “We book you on possessing an illegal firearm and assaulting an officer. You might want to agree to the public defender for that.”
“Hey, I helped you on this case−”
“No, sir, you helped yourself,” Levac said. “Thanks to what you’ve said, you aren’t going to the gas chamber for murder. Thank you again, sir.”
Raven pounded on the door. It was opened a second later and she stepped out, followed by Levac.
“Go ahead and process him for weapon possession and assault. This is his third strike, maybe he’ll learn something,” Raven said.
The officer made a note on his clipboard. “No problem, Ray. It’s a good collar, Murtaugh and Gibson have been trying to get this guy for months.”
“Tell them they owe us a night at Isle.”
*
“So now what?” Levac asked when they were outside.
Raven glanced at the sun, it was almost down which meant they were closing in on quitting time. For normal people.
“What do you have on deck?” she asked.
“Nothing, really. Sloan is pulling a double at the ER so she probably won’t be home tonight,” Levac said.
Raven started across the lot to the Shelby. “Want to go check out Purgatory with me? Maybe Pashta or someone else knows who this Shysie is.”
Levac followed. “Are you going to hit anyone?”
Raven looked at him over the roof of the car. “That depends on how nice they play.”
She got in, and Levac slipped into the passenger seat. “Okay…then promise me that you won’t get us written up again. I hate when King gets sarcastic.”
Raven held up her pinky. “I pinky swear to try not to get us in trouble.”
Levac’s eyebrows raised. “Pinky swear? Who are you and what have you done with my partner?”
Raven lowered her hand and started the car. “Be that way, I’m just trying to be more of a people person.”
She started backing the car out of the spot and half-heard Levac mutter, “Maybe we should hit you with sarin more often.”
“What was that, Rupe?”
Levac gave her a smile, the smile she’d always love. “Nothing, partner. Let’s go ask some questions.”
CHAPTER NINE
Club Purgatory, Old Town Chicago, IL
For years, Raven had looked at Club Purgatory as an example of everything that was wrong with the vampire community. Grime, crime and slime clung to the walls like mold on old bread. Back when she was in narc, she could fill her docket with pushers every night just by checking the alley behind the club. Thirst was an epidemic, illegal feeding, unexplained deaths and disappearances, everything that made humans sit up and take notice.
From the outside, it hadn’t changed much. It still looked like an old meat packing plant with concrete walls and a garish neon sign that sparked and shimmered in the night, announcing the club to anyone for miles around. A short set of stairs at the western end led to the double doors into the club and, as always, a bouncer stood outside. Where once the bouncer would have been a bruiser long on brawn and short on brains, under Pashta’s management there was now an attractive female vampire dressed in black leather that contrasted with her bright green hair. She was checking id’s and letting people into the club a few at a time, a system that kept the bartenders from being overwhelmed and customers anticipating the music and their first drink at CP.
Raven brushed past the line as politely as she could and smiled at the bouncer, who she knew in passing.
“Hi, Valdis. Do you have room for two more?”
Valdis inclined her head. “Lady Tempeste and Faroma Levac, welcome.”
She pulled the door open and Raven entered, followed by Levac.
“I hate that title,” he said.
Raven glanced at him. “Look at it this way, you get free food and people don’t care about the mustard on your chin.”
Levac rubbed at the stain on his chin. “I was saving it for later.”
Raven winked at the coat-check girl, a human dressed in a form-fitting black dress and tall wig that made her look a little bit like a Mistress of the Night. She’d heard the whole exchange and was watching Rupert scratch at the mustard stain.
“Raven Storm and Rupert Levac here to see Pashta, is she in tonight?” Raven asked.
“Yes ma’am, she’s tending tonight, I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”
She gave them both wristbands and held the curtain aside. As soon as the heavy cloth was swept aside, Raven was hit by the music. The bass beat was a palpable thing that made her ribs vibrate and her lungs quiver. She took a moment to acclimate then continued into the club with Levac in tow.
The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Club Purgatory was no exception. The first floor was still the club proper, with a large dance floor, two bars and a stage where local and mainstream bands played weekly. The similarities with the old Club Purgatory ended there. The “combat zone” by the stage was gone and there were no lycans wrestling in the pit. The décor was now less industrial and more upscale Gothic, with generous amounts of black velvet, red satin and purple accent lights that matched the booths and cocktail tables.
The second floor was updated also, with half a dozen private booths as well as two and four person tables that looked down on the stage. The floor above was still made from metal grating, but it was a finer mesh that was more high-heel friendly than it had been.
The primary bar was set between the stage and the front door. A large, pale skinned vampire with close-cropped white hair and ice-blue eyes was serving drinks next to Pashta, the midnight-skinned owner of the club. Raven had given it to her as a gift after dealing with her brother, Xavier. Pashta had taken a club that catered to the bottom feeders of preternatural society and made it an upscale club renowned for live music and great booze.
Raven pushed her way through leather and PVC-clad guests and waved when she caught Pashta’s eye. Pashta smiled back and poured both a beer and a cranberry club soda.
Raven took the club soda while Levac curled his hand around the beer.
“Thanks, Pash,” he said. “The club looks amazing!”
Pashta leaned across the bar and kissed Levac’s cheek. “Thank you, tiger. I’m happy to see you, how is Sloan?”
Levac smiled. “She’s good, sends her love. She’s working a double today so I’m playing hooky.”
Pashta squeezed his hand. “Give her my love and remind her I want a rematch.”
Levac raised his beer. “Will do.”
Pashta turned to Raven and her smile turned warmer. “’ello Ravenel.”
Raven returned the smile. “Hi, Pash. Rupe is right, the place looks amazing.”
Pashta leaned on the counter and gazed out at the club. “I’m proud of her, but I had some help from a certain Fürstin.”
Raven raised her hands. “I just pointed Mom in your direction, you did the work.”
Pashta leaned across and kissed Raven on the cheek. “I still appreciate it, RayRay.”
Raven tried not to blush. “You’re welcome.”
“RayRay?” Levac asked.
Raven glanced at him. “Forget it.”
Levac sipped his beer and grinned behind a beer-foam mustache. “Now I know it’s important. Give!”
Pashta slipped back off the bar and grinned at Levac. “She never told you? Oh, years ago, Raven and I dated. She called me Pash and I called her RayRay.”
Levac’s eyebrows rose and he looked back at his beer. “RayRay… I kinda like it.”
Raven glared at him. “No.”
Levac set his beer down and held up a hand in mock surrender. “Alright, whatever you say, boss.”
Raven gave him a look then turned her attention back to Pashta. “Pash, I know it seems like I only come to see you when I need something−”
Pashta cocked her head. Her eyes sparkled with merriment. “Not you, RayRay.”
“But I was wondering if you knew someone named Shysie,” Raven finished.
Pashta was nodding before Raven even finished the sentence. “She’s a regular, usually takes a booth in the back.”
“Know anything about her?” Levac asked.
Pashta took his empty beer glass and poured him a fresh glass of water. “Not much. She’s small, dark, kind of reminds me of that singer, Ariana. She comes in and seems to hang out with a new crowd every few weeks. That’s about all I know.”
Raven poked at the ice in her drink with a fingernail. “Different crowd how?”
Pashta shrugged. “Like, last week she was with a pair of older men and a young woman. This week it was a young woman, a middle-aged man and an olde
r woman. Never the same people more than twice in a month and I never see anyone she hangs with again.”
Raven looked at Levac, who held her gaze. In unison they asked, “What is she?”
Pashta stepped back. “Whoa, detectives in stereo. She isn’t lycan or vamp, if that is what you’re asking. I doubt she’s Wicca, maybe sorceress or something I’m not familiar with, but she feels human to me.”
Raven took a long drink from her glass then set it aside. “Is she here tonight?”
Pashta craned her neck to look. When she looked back she said, “Yes, back booth on the right.”
“Thank you.”
Raven slipped a bill under her glass. Before she could turn away, Pashta took her hand. “You’re not going to break anything, are you?”
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
She turned away and started through the crowd.
“But things never go as planned,” Levac said.
“That’s what worries me!” Pashta called after them.
The back booths were all circular with a single opening that faced away from the stage. A petite woman with dark skin and hair pulled into a high ponytail sat in the last booth, almost behind the stage. Her back was to them and she was talking on her phone. Raven slid into the booth opposite her while Levac stood beside the booth, one hand in his pocket.
“Shysie? You’re Shysie, right?”
The woman raised her eyes and made a face. “I’m on the phone.”
Raven tapped her badge. “Say goodbye.”
Shysie’s eyes widened. “Um… I’ll call you back.”
She ended the call and set her phone on the table. “Can I help you officers?”
“Not officers, Agents, FBI. We have some questions to ask you,” Raven said.
Levac opened his phone and showed Shysie a photo of Carmichael. “Have you seen this woman?”
“No,” Shysie replied.
Raven held her head in her hands. “Why do they always try this? Look, Shysie, we know you’ve seen her and it’s been a long day, why don’t you just tell us the truth?”
Shysie folded her arms and Raven could tell by the way she was moving that she was wagging one foot madly. “I want a deal.”