Day Reaper

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by Melody Johnson

But best of all, better than my enhanced looks and perhaps even better than my restored hip, was the ability to sheath my talons into nails. My ears were rounded at their tips. My fangs were no longer elongated, and although still razor-tipped, they fit neatly tucked behind my lips. My flattened nose, prominent brow, and back-hinged knees had all reverted to their human-like form. It was an illusion, the same illusion I’d been accusing Dominic of wielding against me for weeks, but one I was grateful for because Greta hadn’t pulled her gun on me this time when I’d entered the room. Maybe the shock of seeing me as a vampire for the first time had waned, but I’d be a fool not to acknowledge that my human mask likely had something to do with her civility as well.

  “May I have permission to enter, Detective Wahl?” Bex asked, her voice the epitome of gentle breeding. She wielded that soft, Southern twang as effectively as she did her beauty, a weapon as much as a shield.

  Greta didn’t acknowledge Bex’s request. Her attention stayed riveted on me. “I don’t care if she’s God’s right hand; I’m not inviting her into this investigation.”

  I blinked, taken aback. “This was our plan. Dr. Chunn needs a sample of Bex’s blood to compare with mine while developing her weapons against the Damned.” I raised my eyebrows. “Did that plan change?”

  “Yep, it changed three seconds ago. You can tell your Master vampire and Second to the Lord of all Monsters to leave before I make her leave.”

  Bex leaned against the outside of the doorframe. “Such threats even after I saved your life,” she tutted.

  I glanced at Dominic. “I’m sensing some history here.”

  “Undoubtedly, a keen observation,” Dominic murmured.

  “Where’s the trust, Detective Greta Wahl?” Bex’s voice might have sounded like a caress, but I knew better. It was a vise around Greta throat, and she was threatening to squeeze.

  “You haven’t earned it,” Greta said tightly.

  “But I have,” I interjected. “When I vouched for Meredith, you were reluctant to welcome her into this investigation, but since then, Meredith’s photography and technical skills have furthered our case, haven’t they?”

  “Meredith has become an invaluable member of our investigative team,” Greta conceded hesitantly.

  The blast of an organ hitting a high C echoed from the lab—undoubtedly the sound of Meredith’s glow from Greta’s praise.

  “I’m asking you to do the same for Bex,” I said, determinedly ignoring the organ and the resulting jackhammer inside my brain.

  Greta stared at me like I’d asked her to sacrifice her firstborn. “I was reluctant to allow Meredith on this investigation because she didn’t have any experience working with the bureau in an investigative capacity, but at least she wasn’t one of the creatures responsible for these crimes.”

  “Neither is Bex,” I pointed out.

  “She’s a vampire!” Greta accused.

  “So am I.”

  Greta shook her head. “That’s different. I’ve known you for years, and we’ve worked dozens upon dozens of cases together. Human or vampire, I trust you with my life.” She pointed at Bex with the whole of her hand, and the sharp sting of Greta’s disapproval whipped my skin raw. “She was there the night of the raid. She entranced my team and sabotaged everything. I don’t trust her.”

  “But you trust me, and I vouch for her,” I insisted. Never mind the fact that the raid had been a terrible idea and doomed from the start, with or without Bex and the other Day Reapers’ interference. Highlighting that point would only rub salt in the wound.

  Greta eyed me and then Bex, stripping us with her human regard better and more thoroughly than some vampires. I recognized the look in her eyes; I’d seen it right before she butterfly-filleted a person in half during interrogation. “What can you offer this investigation that we don’t already have?” she asked Bex directly.

  Bex snorted. “What do you and this investigation really have without me? You cannot defend against the Chancellor, and I, as his Second and a Day Reaper, can,” Bex said, the slash of her grin somehow weary. “You need me.”

  “If it hadn’t been for you and all the rest of your Day Reaper posse interrupting my raid, we would have stopped the Damned and Jillian, once and for all,” Greta insisted.

  “You and your team were ill-equipped, unprepared, and outnumbered,” Bex said, straightening from the doorframe and ticking the poor qualities of Greta’s team on her fingers. “Me and my posse saved you that night at the risk of our lives and at the expense of our freedom. If that’s not proof enough of my loyalty and intentions, I don’t know what is.”

  Greta regarded Bex for a long moment.

  “Cassidy thinks very highly of you and this investigation,” Bex continued, “and since I think very highly of her, I’m willing to set aside my usual means of solving such problems in favor of hers. I will help this investigation and together, we will stop Jillian and her army of the Damned,” Bex said vehemently. As if realizing the slip in her cucumber-cool demeanor, she cleared her throat and eased her shoulder casually back against the doorframe. “Or you can deny me entrance to this room and your investigation, and I’ll revert to my preferred means of solving such problems.”

  “As I recall, your preferred means failed last week,” Greta reminded her civilly.

  “As I recall, your raid impeded my efforts,” Bex quipped, just as civilly.

  “Which is why I propose that we combine our efforts and work together rather than against each other,” I interjected. “We have a common enemy and a common goal. Is it too much to ask that we set aside the rest in favor of the big picture? Who cares who’s a vampire or a Day Reaper or a human or a night blood? Jillian and her Damned are terrorizing New York City, and it doesn’t matter who we are—if we don’t stop her, we’ll all die.”

  “And you?” Greta asked, locking eyes with Walker in an obvious last ditch effort to align herself with someone sane. “Where do you stand on all of this?”

  “Using Bex’s blood to help Dr. Chunn develop weapons against the Damned was a good plan,” he said. “I’m all for sticking to the plan.”

  Greta’s lips puckered as if she’d taken a bite into something unpalatably sour, but when she looked back at me, her gaze was resigned. “I hold you responsible for her.”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  Bex snorted delicately.

  “If she betrays us or this investigation, it’s your betrayal. This could break our friendship. Her actions are your actions. Her words are your words. Her—”

  I held up my hand. “I get the point. If Bex burns us, I’m toast.”

  Greta nodded, her lips twitching upward into a reluctant smile. “I’d never put it quite like that, but yes.”

  “I vouch for her, G. I’m not going back on my word now. We might look like monsters, but we’re your friends, and on this case, it doesn’t matter who’s a vampire, night blood, or human; we need as many friends as we can get.”

  “We’ll see,” Greta said noncommittally. She faced Bex. “Bex, you may enter this room.”

  “A dream come true.” Bex swept into the room.

  “And everyone can follow me,” Greta said, ignoring Bex and her sarcasm. “We found something interesting and, frankly, unheard of for this case.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “A golden egg?”

  “Yes.” Greta’s lips curved into a rare, hundred-watt smile. “We found a witness.”

  Chapter 16

  Since discovering the existence of vampires, the only people I could share my fears, questions, and experiences with were other night bloods, and for the first several weeks of that time when I’d had the most fears and questions, Walker had been the only night blood I’d known. Everyone else—my boss, my neighbors, even Meredith, my best friend—were susceptible to being entranced, essentially having their memories wiped, and if they had a stick
y memory, like Greta, they were susceptible to much worse. Until recently, Dominic and his vampires would resort to just about anything, even murder, to keep their existence a secret and protect the coven. Before the Damned had attacked New York City, I would have said that no one except other night bloods knew about the existence of vampires. I’d have bet my life on it.

  And as usual, I’d have been dead wrong.

  I’d searched far and wide and failed to find a witness to corroborate my story, Vampires Bite in the Big Apple, but here in front of me was a young woman, only a few years younger than myself, who claimed to know about the existence of vampires long before the Damned had attacked.

  And she wasn’t a night blood.

  Inside the makeshift interrogation room Greta and her team had created at the back of the morgue, Supervisory Special Agent Harold Rowens was sitting beside our witness. Their chairs were close enough that he could lean against the chrome slab being used as a table and still squeeze her soft shoulder with his big, beefy hand. I’d been interrogated by Rowens in the past, and although he’d employed bad cop on me, his good cop was probably just as effective.

  “Let me talk to her,” I said.

  Greta raised her eyebrows, amused. “You think you can grill her better than Rowens? Don’t let him hear you say that.”

  “I said no such thing,” I replied. “One of Rowens’s specialties is interrogation, but of the two of us, I’m intimately more familiar with the inner workings of vampires in Dominic’s coven. Leaving a witness,” I said, pointing to the woman, “is simply not done.”

  Dominic shook his head. He hadn’t stopped staring at the woman with his narrowed, creepy, otherworldly eyes since walking into the viewing section of the makeshift interrogation rooms. “Unbelievable.”

  Bex sniffed. “Finding a leak always is.”

  “I need to talk to her,” I insisted.

  Greta eyed me critically. “It’s a good thing, then, that she specifically asked for you.”

  I blinked. “She what?”

  “She asked to speak to you and has refused to divulge more information, names, or details until she sees you,” Greta said, watching my reaction.

  I shook my head, stunned. “She asked for me by name?”

  Greta nodded.

  “I don’t even know her. I’ve never seen the woman in my life, before today.”

  My words or reaction must have passed some gut-check test because Greta released me from scrutiny and sighed, shifting her gaze back to the woman. Our witness.

  Unbelievable, indeed.

  “Whoever she is, she certainly knows you.”

  “Where did you find her?” Dominic asked.

  “We didn’t,” Greta said grimly. She knocked on the window with two quick raps. “She found us.”

  Rowens stood, squeezing the woman’s shoulder one last time in farewell before exiting the room. He waited until the door was firmly shut behind him before speaking. “She’s padlocked, that one. Maybe DiRocco will have better luck,” he said, nodding at me. “Glad you could make it.”

  I returned his nod. “Wouldn’t miss it. What did you get from her so far?”

  Rowens swiped a hand down his face, pulling down the taut lines of his craggy cheeks. “Not much, and yet, more than we’ve ever had before from a witness on this case. She’s the wife of a vampire in your coven—”

  “Wife?” Dominic blurted, his eyes finally shifting from the woman to blast Rowens.

  Rowens continued, unperturbed by Dominic’s interruption. “—and she is following her husband’s instructions should he ever go missing for an excess of seven days: speaking to the police regarding the attacks and asking to give her statement to the reporter, Cassidy DiRocco.” Rowens’s eyes landed heavily on me with the same look Greta had given me just moments ago.

  I lifted my palms to show my innocence. “I’ve never heard of or seen this woman before today.” I had the feeling I’d be saying that a lot in my near future. “What’s her name?”

  “Mackenzie Clark,” Rowens said, glancing back through the one-way window at the woman. “Tough as nails, that girl. Good luck.”

  She’d have to be tough, being a human wife to a vampire, I thought, but I kept my opinions to myself. Dominic looked on the verge of a meltdown without my snarky comments pushing him over the edge.

  I entered the interrogation room unimpeded by its threshold because the woman had already invited me in by name, but obviously, I wasn’t the person she’d been expecting. Her already large, brown, doe-eyes widened as they swept me head to toe, and her plump, shapely mouth dropped open before she could hide her reaction. Even if she had, though, she couldn’t hide the electric snap of her shock. The sound was even more telling than her facial expression, but between the two, I knew without a doubt that something was wrong.

  I sat across from her at the table and smiled, taking care to hide my fangs. “Mackenzie Clark, you have me at a disadvantage. You seem well acquainted with me, but I’m not at all acquainted with you.”

  Her mouth snapped closed. Her eyes narrowed defiantly, and I wouldn’t have known she felt anything except shock and anger from her outward appearance. But I could smell the cinnamon spice of her fear permeate the room and feel the microscopic tremor in her dark, shoulder-length curls.

  “Obviously, I’m not as acquainted with you as I’d thought,” she said warily. “I didn’t know Lysander had transformed you yet.”

  I tried not to gape, unsure which was more disturbing: that she could discern a human from vampire so easily when I clearly looked human—or at least, more human than I’d looked lately—or that she knew our big, bad secret. “You know Lysander?” I asked, striving for nonchalance.

  “Former Master vampire of New York City?” Mackenzie crossed her arms. “I know of him, but before you sic him on me and mind-fuck my brain numb, I need your help. Sevris said you’re the one person I can trust.”

  I started, failing to hide my own shock. “You know Sevris, too?”

  “Of course I know Sevris,” Mackenzie said, looking greatly aggrieved by my ignorance. “He’s my husband.”

  I cleared my throat. “Right. Why don’t we start from the beginning? How—”

  “We don’t have time to rehash my life story. I haven’t seen Sevris in seven days, and I need your help to find him. Now, before it’s too late.” Mackenzie swallowed, tamping down a break in her otherwise calm composure. “We might already be too late for the rest of them.”

  “Too late for the rest of who?” I asked cautiously.

  “All the other missing vampires and night bloods,” Mackenzie said.

  She took a deep breath, and I could actually hear the elevated beat of her pulse gradually decrease and become steady. It took a moment and more effort than I’d comfortably admit, but eventually, I refocused my attention back to what she was saying.

  “The others didn’t want me to come here, but really, what other choice did we have but to sit around and wait, and for what? Wait to die? Wait to become Damned? Fuck that and fuck them. Sevris said I could trust you, and there’s no one in the world I trust more than Sevris.” She seemed to shore up under the reminder of her trust in him; she looked me square in the eyes when she said, “Sevris isn’t the only vampire who’s gone missing, and I’m not the only loved one who needs help finding them. Even if that means taking down Jillian once and for all.”

  “You know Jillian?” I asked. Really, I shouldn’t even be shocked by the vampires she knew at this point—she obviously knew everyone—but my jaw dropped in spite of myself.

  “Of course,” Mackenzie said, but wary sorrow had replaced the earlier frustration in her tone. “She was supposed to lead the uprising against Lysander and free us all from the confines of his rule. She was supposed to release Sevris and all the others from living in secrecy and in fear of their loved ones, husbands, and
wives—like me—being discovered and wiped from existence. She was supposed to save us.” Mackenzie cleared her throat, but her voice was still ragged when she said, “Sevris thought an uprising might be possible, that we might not have to live and love in secret anymore, but then everything went so wrong so quickly. I don’t think even Sevris would condone what she’s done—not that I can ask him. Because he’s missing.”

  The interrogation room door exploded inward, and Dominic stood outside its threshold, on the verge of a full transformation. His ears were high and pointed, his nose flat and flared at its tips, his fangs and talons elongated to lethal lengths, and his forehead thickened to a menacing, protruding frown.

  He stood outside the doorway, growling.

  Mackenzie’s eyes darted to mine, and the scorching accusation in her gaze warred with the high trill of her fear. I resisted the urge to plug my ears. “Sevris said I could trust you!”

  “You can,” I said, and to prove my point, I stood and stepped in front of Mackenzie to block Dominic’s direct line of sight. “Dominic, stand down.”

  “Invite me in,” he growled.

  I shook my head. “Not until you calm down.”

  “Calm down?” Dominic’s voice was grating, like gravel scraping over glass. “I thought Sevris was one of my most loyal vampires. I entrusted him with the knowledge of my weakness during the Leveling. I depended on his strength and power.” Dominic cursed vehemently. “I allowed him to heal you!”

  “And he did! He didn’t betray you, he just”—I bit my lip, glancing at Mackenzie’s rage-filled face—“didn’t want to live in secret and darkness anymore. Can you blame him?”

  “Can I blame Jillian for all she’s done?” Dominic asked bitterly. “After all, that’s all she ever wanted, as well.”

  I shook my head. “Jillian took the coven from you and killed dozens of people to do it. Sevris was never interested in power. To be honest, he didn’t seem to care who took control of the coven as long as he survived the transition.”

  “And that’s why I’m here,” Mackenzie interjected from behind me. “I’m not sure that he survived.”

 

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