Deathtrap (Crossbreed Series Book 3)
Page 5
I refused to believe that Chaos’s statement was true, so there had to be a logical explanation.
“Is this about the necklace I’ve seen you wearing?” She stared at my black shirt, which concealed the stone beneath.
“I thought he mentioned buying it from that dealer, so I was going to see if he had anything else I might like. My memory isn’t what it used to be,” I said, hoping to throw off any suspicion.
Blue seemed satisfied with my answer and stood up, wagging the leftover pizza crust at me. “Viktor doesn’t like it when you skip meals.”
“I’m half Vampire, so I’m only half hungry. I’ll have a big breakfast in the morning if it makes everyone happy.”
Her brows arched with subtle amusement. “Then you better be sure to cook something you like.”
I smacked my forehead. “Don’t we have any cereal?”
“Good night, Raven.”
After Blue left the room, I glanced at the closed door that led to the training room downstairs. It was close to the exit, and I guessed that it must have once been a basement used to store food or wine. As I stood up and approached, I heard the faint sound of grunting. Either Christian had snuck in a hot date, or Shepherd was down there doing reps. I paused near the door, my ear pressed against the wood. Shepherd didn’t like anyone disturbing him when he worked out, so there was no point in bothering him so late. If the man wanted to lift weights in the middle of the night, it was no business of mine, so I left the candle burning on the table for when he finally came out.
The mansion came alive at night with shadows and light reflecting on the windows. But imagined fears paled in comparison to sleeping in abandoned buildings and alleyways. Monsters under the bed didn’t frighten me. The true terrors were the faces of seemingly normal men who walked the streets, concealing the darkness within them. That was why I used to hunt them down. It made more sense to get the monsters before they got me.
Once I reached the third floor, I paused before a row of windows overlooking the courtyard. Gem was floating in the heated pool, green and blue lights rippling through the still water beneath and around her. She had on a long dress or nightgown and looked so serene lying there. It must have been her form of meditation, the same way that Niko would sit for long spells down in the gym.
“Did you have a good time?”
I pivoted around on one heel, a dagger in hand.
With one finger, Christian gently moved my arm away. “Your reflexes are quick, but you don’t have to arm yourself around here. This is your home.”
I blew out a breath and tucked the push dagger back in my belt holster. “Force of habit. I don’t like people sneaking up on me. You need to curb all that shadow walking. Women don’t like to be snuck up on.”
He stood next to me and peered down at Gem through the latticed window. “She’s a peculiar lass.”
“We’re all nuts here. Shepherd’s downstairs battling it out with kettlebells.”
“And I suppose you’re on your way to walk on the roof?”
I strode over to a chair on the opposite wall and took a seat. “I don’t know.”
Christian leaned against the wall across from me, hands in his pockets. “Still thinking about the murder?”
What I really wanted to ask him about was the case of the mysterious necklace, but the longer he stared at me, the more wary I became. Was I ready to open up a can of worms, especially if Mr. Chaos had only been bluffing? Christian would love nothing more than to think that I believed he’d given me a multimillion-dollar necklace. That was the discord Chaos was trying to create, so I kept my mouth closed.
“Vampires can’t read minds,” he said absently.
“Someone murdered her and stole her baby. I get why they’re doing it, I just don’t understand it.” I rubbed my temple. “This is a sick world. And I don’t mean generally speaking. I mean our world.”
“Don’t give humans so much credit. They’re fairly adept at wiping out entire populations and building weapons of mass destruction. Why do you think we’re still in hiding?”
“I hope someone hires Viktor for this case. I’d love to catch the people behind it and give them a taste of their own medicine. Has anyone looked at the latest black market listings?”
“Wyatt’s monitoring the site. It shouldn’t be long before we see the auction go up. Marketeers don’t like babysitting.”
“If he sold the baby direct, we’ll never catch him.”
Christian pushed off the wall and clasped his hands behind his back. “Most immortals have trust issues and won’t deal with anyone directly. If you’re going to hire someone to do your dirty work, then you have to kill them when they finish the task. Loose ends are a nasty thing, so most prefer the anonymity of the black market.”
“Men with money surround themselves with lackeys who do their dirty work.”
“And that’s their flaw. Men can’t keep secrets, and money will always win over loyalty.”
“That baby better show up on the black market.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Plan B.”
“Plan B. Is that a pregnancy test? Your bra size?”
I crossed my legs at the ankles. “Not everyone knows who we are and what we do. Let’s go to a few bars and ask around—pretend we’re a couple in search of a child.”
“And what if your plan results in another innocent woman’s murder?”
“What if it doesn’t?”
“Viktor wouldn’t approve. Are you going back to your old ways, crossbreed? That’s not how we do things here.”
“You’ve never gone undercover? Don’t be telling me fibs,” I said in a bad Irish accent.
He paced to my right, holding the back of his neck. “If a child winds up in your arms, and it’s not that child, you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your life. Assuming you have a conscience. You’ll have captured a criminal, but at the expense of another innocent life.”
“But think of all the lives we’ll save. Even if you think it’s wrong, you can’t deny the end result.”
Christian stalked forward and glared at me so intensely that I blinked. “Are you langered? Because that’s not a rational argument. Where did you go this evening?”
“That’s a tight leash you keep on me.”
“You’re more combative than usual tonight. I’m just curious what’s influencing such dangerous thoughts.”
“I went to Club Nine.”
He rocked with laughter. “Jaysus wept. No wonder. Let me guess, you drank the heresy.”
“Wrath.”
“No wonder you’re on a mission. Let the alcohol wear off, and see how you feel in the morning. When a Sensor spikes your drink, the residual effects can last longer than you think.”
“Why did Betty keep staring at you like she did?” I asked, shifting topics. It was something that had been weighing on my mind all day.
“Betty who?”
“The waitress at the diner.” When just a hint of scarlet touched his cheeks and he walked off, I bolted out of my seat and followed behind him. “What are you not telling me?”
The sound of our footsteps reverberated off the stone floors, and I hurried to match his pace. When he turned a dark corner and shadow walked to get away, I flashed with a burst of energy and grabbed the back of his shirt.
Christian spun around. “What the feck is wrong with you? Can’t you let a man be alone? You’re always trying to stir the pot.”
“You know her, don’t you?”
His lips tightened, and he gave me a belligerent look.
“You might as well talk,” I said coolly. “It’s not as if I’m going anywhere for the next few centuries. Did you drink her blood?”
This time when he flounced off, I let him. He went out the heavy door that led to the interior balcony. It was a nice space that overlooked the front property, but I hadn’t spent much time out there since the weather changed over to snow. I casually pushed open the door and saw Christ
ian leaning forward, his arms resting on the stone railing. I crossed the distance and stood to his left where a quiet gust of wind lifted snowflakes off the ground.
Christian kept his eyes forward. “Believe it or not, Betty was a fetching girl in her youth. Fifty years ago. Maybe more.”
“How did you know her?”
He shook his head, amusement in his voice. “You see so many faces in your lifetime that it’s not always easy to remember the ones who have aged. Her last name is different, but not much else. I was surprised she remembered me. Well, she doesn’t actually know who I am, but her uncertainty was enough to give me pause. I looked different back then. Didn’t have the beard and dressed with the times.”
“If you’re about to tell me that you and Betty got it on, I’m not sure I want the details.”
“No,” he said on a long sigh. “Betty wasn’t like that. She was a spirited lass with dreams about becoming an activist. She was always marching for something. Just a short little lass with fiery hair, a nice set of knockers, and a loud opinion.”
I snorted. “Not much has changed. Did you love her?”
“Don’t be daft. I was involved in a lot of nefarious activities back then, which I’m sure you can already guess, and I used to sit in that diner late at night and have a cup of coffee. Sometimes she’d invite herself to my table and stir up a conversation. I didn’t think all these years later she’d still be there. The last I saw of her, she was betrothed to a lad who’d just joined the army. Such a tragic waste.”
“Of what? It sounds like she’s lived a full life.”
Christian regarded me for a moment. “You don’t think working in the same diner after fifty years is tragic? She could have done something more with her life than having babies and serving pie.”
“She did. Betty’s a lighthouse. Maybe she didn’t become a social activist or whatever you saw in her, but she fed me and helped me out when things were bleak. I’m sure she didn’t just sit with you because of your charming personality. She has a way of spotting lost souls. People like you are beyond her help, but she matters. People like her matter. Without their compassion, where would the rest of us be?”
“You shouldn’t get attached to mortals.”
“Humans have treated me better than any of our kind ever has. I’m sick of Breed looking down their noses at them.”
He stood up straight, his breath fogging the air between us. “It’s easier that way. You’re too green to know what life can do to an immortal. How many people can you stand to watch go through sickness and disease, only to fade away and become nothing more than a headstone? You haven’t a clue how many people I’ve watched go mad because they couldn’t let go of the human world. Better that you forget this nonsense with seeing your father. It will only destroy you.”
“He’s my father!”
Christian’s lips peeled back. “But that’s not your place anymore! You don’t belong there. Do you think saying good-bye makes it any easier? You have an opportunity to do something with your life. Don’t be like Betty. Don’t give it up for love. You can’t be with your father anymore. You can’t visit every Sunday and talk over tea about the latest football game, pretending that everything’s normal before you head back to Keystone and plan an assassination. It doesn’t work that way. Let him go.”
The moment I felt the tear roll down my cheek, I hated myself for showing my emotions. “You made me a promise.”
“Aye. And I’ll keep that promise,” he said, taking a step back. “Even if it means losing you as a partner. Do you think I didn’t contemplate returning to Ireland to see if my sister was looked after? Nature has to take its course. You can’t interfere. Even after I scrub your father’s memory, it won’t remove the emotions. They’ll linger, and if he’s gotten over your disappearance and death, he might end up reliving those feelings all over again without knowing why.”
When Christian returned inside, my heart sank. What if he was right? What if visiting my father ended up being the catalyst that turned him back to the bottle? What right did I have to erase the peace he’d probably found after five years?
Even still, I couldn’t back out.
I needed to see him.
I needed to know.
Chapter 6
“That was the worst breakfast in God’s creation,” Wyatt remarked from his office chair.
Ignoring his complaint, I stared at my file on the floor in front of me.
“I thought the jam was marvelous,” Gem said from the beanbag chair.
Wyatt’s laugh ended with a snort. “That’s because it was the only thing she didn’t burn. Toast I get. And I’ll even forgive bacon. But how do you burn eggs?”
“Will you two pipe down so I can concentrate?” Shepherd grumbled. He’d taken over the sofa and surrounded himself with papers.
Since Wyatt had a lot of territory to cover with recent black market offers, he’d printed them all out for us to review while he monitored the new listings in search of a baby. The whole team was present except for Claude and Christian.
It was official. One of Viktor’s contacts with the higher authority had hired Keystone to take on the case of the murdered woman and stolen child, so Viktor gave us the green light to begin as soon as possible. The team had put away their side projects to focus solely on the case.
“Is Claude still out?” I asked.
Viktor crossed his legs from his chair in the corner. “He believes the fates will deliver us the killer on a silver platter.”
Claude owned the killer’s scent, and he wanted to scout the area and visit some popular bars where the seedy lowlifes hung out. Basically, he thought there was a chance he could pick up the guy’s scent and solve the case.
Nothing in life came that easy.
“Is there nothing I can do to help?” Niko leaned on Wyatt’s desk and gripped the edge. He’d taken two sections of his ebony hair on either side and tied them together in the back, highlighting his carved cheekbones.
Wyatt kept his eyes on the computer screen. “Sorry, buddy. I could order a braille printer and see if those work.”
Niko turned his head away. “It would be an excessive waste of paper if it’s just going to be discarded.”
I rubbed my eyes. “What about the report I gave you a half hour ago, Wyatt?”
He spun around in his chair, a pen between his teeth. “The sellers don’t always get back to you right away. He finally sent more info. Dead end. The kid was seven.”
I took the last page in my pile and placed it with the others. “Well, I figured if I couldn’t find the baby on the auction block, I’d make use of my time and organize the papers. Slave trade, pile one. Mage infusing, pile two. Murder for hire, pile three. And I have questions about pile four.”
Wyatt held his stomach and grimaced. “What kind of questions?”
“Most of them were marked ‘cemetery plots.’ I was going to put them in the murder-for-hire pile but thought I’d ask first.”
He leaned back. “Those aren’t killers. Those people will bury your enemy alive for a long, long time. It’s an archaic tradition. Gravewalkers still check cemeteries, but some of the black market traders don’t necessarily bury immortals where someone can find them. At least, not until the land is bulldozed for home construction or a Walmart.”
Gem shifted in the black beanbag chair to my left and squinted at him. “What’s wrong with you? You’re all sweaty.”
“I think it was the eggs.”
“Maybe it’s Ebola,” she suggested. “Played with any monkeys lately?”
Wyatt looked green and finally stood up to leave. I felt a twinge of guilt when he left the room holding his stomach, but in my defense, I’d never had to cook breakfast for so many people at once. Even in the years when I had an apartment—before I’d become a crossbreed—I didn’t do much cooking.
“I’ll make something better tonight,” I promised.
Viktor shook his head. “Nyet. Not tonight.”
&nbs
p; I was about to argue until I remembered why. “Damn, we have that dinner thing to go to. Is it too late for me to back out? We’ve got all this work to do.”
Shepherd stood up and crossed the room. He dropped a file in Wyatt’s chair and locked his fingers around the back of his neck as he stretched out his muscles. “The victim’s name was Jennifer Moore.”
Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and looked up.
Shepherd leaned against the long desk next to Niko. He took a cigarette from the pack on the desk and struck a match. “I combed through everything we could find on her. She was a Sensor who worked at Club Nine.”
After a long puff, he shook his hand to put out the flame and dropped the matchstick on the floor.
I stood up, my back stiff. “Why was she living in her car if she had a job?”
“Had a job being the operative word,” he said. “She used to spike their specialty drinks, but it’s hard for pregnant Sensors to work, so I’m guessing they let her go when they found out.”
“What does being pregnant have to do with spiking drinks?”
He blew out a cloud of smoke. “Pregnancy does strange things to a Sensor. Most can’t use their sensory skills, and others have problems harnessing the right emotional energy when they have hormones fluttering about in a tiny person inside them. Those drinks have to be spiked just so.”
“Did you find anything about a boyfriend?”
He shook his head. “The files Wyatt found on her are just job records, her Breed alias, last-known residence, and her former banker.”
“What about getting a list of all the places she’s charged her card?”
His brows gathered into a frown. “Hell to the no.”
“I’m not talking about her entire life. Just the past year or so. It might show a break in her pattern that’s worth checking out.”
“One of us should investigate the Nine Circles club,” Niko said. “Her coworkers might have more information.”