“Peter—”
The big German lug stared at me. “Iago is frantic. He’s scraping the gutters and only finding broken wolves, and he knows it. Let him build a herd of mad dogs. Svetka’s army of children will decimate and embarrass him. He won’t come out of hiding, especially because he knows Svetlana is a solid match for him. Wait until he’s cocky and comfortable, and he’ll reveal himself.”
Peter produced keys, kissed Davey on the cheek, nodded at me, and then left.
Wait? Patience wasn’t my strong suit. I went inside. Clifford lay prone.
And why the hell was I holding a hoodoo sack?
“I'm supposed to put some of this powder on your forehead and such.”
I swear the wolf rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, silly, huh?” I set the powder as directed. All in all, I'm not sure it did anything. Desperation, not hope, led me down this nutso, pagan path.
I was out of options. None left. No one would help me. The worst part was the thought ticking around my brain, the thing I was going to do in order to fix this.
Chapter 33
I called Yoshino to get the highly private number. Just looking at the digits scrawled in my stressed penmanship nearly gave me the runs.
I counted breaths to avoid hyperventilating and dialed, shoving the phone hard against my ear to stop myself from hanging up.
“Mullen,” he said.
I cleared my throat. “Hi. It’s Durant.”
“I know who it is.”
Of course, he did.
“Are you going to talk, or should I speculate on what you’re wearing,” he said. I could hear his serpent satisfaction and imagined him smiling.
The idea would put me off my feed.
“I might need your help,” I said.
So this is what it feels like to sell one’s soul.
His rich, deep chuckle was deceptively warm. He took real pleasure in my statement, and I had to clench my flapping heart into a ball and carry on.
“I need help finding someone who doesn’t want to be found. All the other avenues have dried up.”
“Yes, I imagine I’m the last resource on your long, questionable list of contacts. Why do you think I can help?”
“The creature I’m hunting is dangerous, your caliber of dangerous. Since you handle all the high-risk potentials and professional psychos, I figured you might have an angle I haven’t yet considered.”
He exhaled, and I pictured him smoking, eyes digging into the distance, a smile creeping along his vicious lips. “You’re after the ones who keep leaving women parts with your name on them.”
“Bingo.” A spark of hope flickered. “Are you working the case?”
“No, but I find it interesting.”
Yuck. I bet he did. “Any insight to share?”
“We’re hunting for a team of fifteen to twenty guys. At least a few of them have been trained enough to bag game and discretely relocate it.”
The ‘game’ he referenced was human beings, so I kept my mouth shut.
“You’re under the impression these are mutts,” he asked. I could tell it was a question because of the following pause, not because of his tone.
“Aren’t they?”
“Presumably, but not necessarily.”
“Contaminated witnesses were left at each site.”
“Sure. Doesn’t prove anything though. I traced one of the groups, and the trail led me to the old municipal airport in Scottsdale. No one flies from there anymore. Abandoned hangars are lovely places for a bunch of felons to hide.”
I sat up straight, excited. “You found them?”
“What was left of them. Most of the bad guys were gone, but a few bodies remained. The corpses showed evidence of animal mauling, but not by mutts.”
“What kind of animal?”
“I can hear you getting excited,” he said. “Breathy. Are you flushing? Touch your cheeks. Tell me if they’re warm.”
“Fuck yourself, Mullen.”
He chuckled, completely unfazed. “Vampires, Agent Durant. That’s what kind of animal. At least two, judging from imprints left on the victims.”
“Are you sure you know what a vampire bite looks like?”
“You called me for a reason, and it isn’t because I’m a rookie.”
“Vampires and mutts hate each other,” I said. “Why would they team up?”
“Good question, isn’t it.”
“Jesus.” Sweat tickled my neck. “Were you able to learn where they went?”
“No.” A hint of irritation tinted his voice. The great hunter was perturbed. “Is there anything you care to add that might expedite the conclusion of this issue?”
I considered giving him names, dates, and suspicions. I stood there, knowing he could take what I knew and find Iago faster, but at what cost? He’d find Clifford, Svetlana, and Erik. Possibly Rainer and the whole network. And he’d take it upon himself to kill them all. Maybe even Davey. So I said, “Gosh, can’t think of anything.”
“If I were you, Durant—by which I mean, if I was a woman in your shoes—I would expect them to come for me. I’d take your adorable piece of cannon fodder, Davey, and I’d send him as far away as possible. I’d secure a last will and testament, and I’d prepare to die.”
“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?”
“Call me when they come knocking. I’d love to listen to you die.”
He hung up before I was capable of breathing again.
It was happening. Race wars. World war.
I texted Rainer on the black phone. “My colleague found evidence of both mutts and vamps at a crime scene and suspects they are working together.” I sent the same text to Peter. I received zero responses.
Irritated, stir-crazy, I decided to make coffee. Only, we were out of beans. Grumbling, I stomped to my truck and tore out of the suburb, pounding my code into the gate. I drove senselessly for a while but resisted going to the grocery store. Too many people. My skull itched with a headache and my fingers cramped with tension. Coffee was probably the last thing I needed. Liquor would be better. A tranquilizer would be best.
I pulled into the coffee shop, which had gone from my favorite shop to the only one I frequented anymore, and caught them before closing time.
“Can I get a large dark roast?” I said.
“Sure.” The barista smiled bigger than my tone deserved. “Extra shot of espresso?”
I nodded helplessly. Her dress was fluttery, whimsical, and lavender. Feminine to the extreme. She whirled around and started a single drip coffee while I watched. She briefly revealed a tattoo on the back of her thigh of a full moon centered on the oculus of a black feather, like something stolen from a ghostly peacock. I shook my head to distract myself.
“Can I have a pound of roasted beans?” I said.
“We sell beans in kilos.”
“Okay. Two kilos of the dark stuff.”
“Any pastries, Kaid?” she said. What a memory. What a body.
“Have you eaten yet?”
She blinked twice, three times, and smiled. “What did you have in mind?”
“Pastries,” I admitted.
She laughed. It was joyous. “Why not? Let me finish this. Are you in the mood for frosting or something healthier?”
“Definitely frosting.”
It was exactly what I needed: something normal, simple, and sweet. She brought two slices of carrot cake to the couch, flipped the closed sign, and sat next to me.
“The frosting has something special,” she said. “It’s so light it’s almost a meringue.”
“Nice.” My appetite surfaced and I hoisted a fork.
“I almost couldn’t get the peaks to hold, but I finally won.”
“You made this? Seriously?”
She chuckled. “Don’t look so shocked! And don’t be too impressed, either. It’s not my recipe, I simply followed the directions.”
“Still, that’s impressive.”
She shrugged prettily.
�
��Riddle me this.” I turned toward her and hooked my elbow on the back of the sofa. “Why are you so blasted happy all the time?”
She burst out laughing.
“No, I’m serious. This place can’t be pulling a profit, and the neighborhood is going downhill. Heck, the whole world is plummeting downhill. On top of everything, you’re Wiccan, which puts you on society’s list of persecuted rabble.”
She hesitated and slowly brought the fork to her mouth. “Wiccan, huh?”
I pointed to the crystals on her bookshelf. “My neighbor has a similar collection. I can’t remember their names, but I know they all have a mystical purpose. You should guard them more carefully or someone might find out.”
“And so what if they find out?”
“Did you hear about the witch burned in Seattle two weeks ago?”
“You’re sweet.”
“I’m talking about life and death,” I grumbled. “Nothing sweet about it.”
She poked my knee with the fork. “Have you heard about what metal does to your psyche?”
“Uh, no. But I’m sure it’s fascinating.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, smart ass. Look, metal blocks a lot of energy. Like lead and Superman, right? How he can’t see through it with his x-ray vision?”
“Was that a comic book reference?” I clutched my chest. “Be still my heart!”
She poked me with the fork again, laughing. “Listen, okay? So, metal, it stands in the way of other energies. And while you’re putting all your trust and faith in cold steel, a rainbow of beauty goes ignored. It’s unbalanced but understandable, and the effects are completely reversible.”
“You’re saying there’s a cure?” I teased.
“Absolutely.”
“This, I’m dying to hear.” I sipped my coffee. “How can I be cured?”
“Come home with me.”
I choked on the coffee and couldn’t stop gagging. She whacked me on the back and chortled, her eyes filled with merriment.
“Look, uh—”
“It’s a bad night for you, I can tell,” she said. “Maybe next time.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m a patient person.”
“Yeah, I can see that, but…I’m kinda a mess. A big, heaping, stinky mess.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“No,” I said, unable to stop my eyes from roving over her. “Not all of us.”
She blushed. “Walk me out. I can clean this up tomorrow.”
I gathered my goods and walked her to the door, watching while she locked up. The idea of curling up with her in a warm place was so tempting, but I couldn’t escape the gut-feeling that something would go horribly wrong. I’d jack it up somehow. I remembered why I came out in the first place.
My life was filled with psychos, murderers, and several types of fanged monster. I couldn’t burden a pleasant stranger with my crap. Maybe when things calmed down.
I walked her to a green car and opened the door for her.
“Let me give you my number,” I said. She winked and held out her hand. No pulling out a cellphone to type in the number, no, she expected me to write on her palm. Heart dancing, I reached for a pen and collected her warm, dry hand in my grip. I managed to write the digits neatly despite my level of distraction, and then I closed her safely in the vehicle. She waved, started the car, and drove off.
I watched her lights fade down the street and then climbed into my truck.
God. What a wonderful world.
Chapter 34
When I woke, Clifford slept with his chin propped up on the bed, naked. Human. I whapped him with a pillow. He jerked awake. His golden brown eyes opened normally, revealing gorgeous color. He was recovering. And nude.
“The hell are you doing?”
He yawned and looked down. “I was a mutt when I fell asleep.”
“As if that gives you permission to creep into my room, on my bed?”
“I clearly slept on the floor. Besides, watching you snooze is nice. Being around you makes me feel at peace. More now than ever.”
“What's special about now?”
“You nursed me instead of killing me, for one, and then you took me in. Plus, you're cute when you're not talking.”
“Ass.”
“Those were Svetlana's people who came to help me?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe I should have met her. That girl, Tatka, she was amazing. I never thought women could turn and still be so…together. Is Svetlana the same way?”
“Even more so.”
“Wow.”
“How nice of Svetlana to help everyone work out their issues.” I snuggled deep under the covers. I wasn't pouting, I swear. Clifford slid under the blanket. “Dude! Hello! You're naked!”
“Which is why I'm hiding politely under the covers to prevent you from checking out the merchandise.”
I gave him room. I didn't want to feel his body, and not for modesty's sake. I didn't know how to touch Clifford. If we weren't fighting and he wasn't dying, I couldn't touch him without facing my attraction. I had absolutely no reason to touch him except to fuck. Hard. For a long time.
“Are you okay?” he said.
“What? Of course! I'm always okay. Why? What are you saying? Maybe you should mind your business.”
“Jeez. Just asking.”
“That's precisely the problem.”
“Maybe you need another nap. I know I do.”
I should have taken the lovely barista up on her offer last night, if for no other reason than to spend some of my pent up energy.
“Your partner is out there,” Clifford said.
“Huh?”
“Sarakas. He’s here. Stopped by to check on everything.”
“Did he see anything?”
“Not really. He thinks I’m human. Davey told him I got beat up to send you a message, but he doesn’t know I’m a mutt or that the fight was between mutts.”
“Okay. How are your internals?” I said. “Any pain? Trouble breathing?”
“Everything is sore. Swollen. I’m exhausted. And hungry.”
“You ate, like, three cows.”
“Where did you learn adrenaline keeps the mutt in fur?”
“Rainer. Are you going after Iago?”
He sighed and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “If I ever come across him again, I won't be able to curb my temper, but hunting him down feels like vengeance. Dirty. Time to get on with life. Besides, I'm all better now. Wanna feel?”
I smacked him with a pillow because I couldn't convincingly say no. Smiling, his eyes constantly golden brown and sunlit, he put his hands up to defend himself. Christ, he was hot. I slid the pillow back under my head and folded my hands over the covers in case my fingers tried to feel him without my permission.
Clifford said, “If you give me some clothes, you can take me home and I'll finally be out of your hair.”
I didn’t know what to think. “Are you certain you should be alone? You've endured a traumatic event. There's space in the duplex. Boys on one side of the building, me on the other. Sounds like a plan.” I didn't know where I came up with these brilliant ideas, but they would get me in trouble. “I don't think you should be out there on your own until this is resolved.”
“I consider it resolved.”
“Well, I'm not the liberal stoic you are.”
“I lost the fight, Durant. The end.”
“Yeah, a fair fight that was! Jesus. I should have taken pictures because you must have forgotten what you looked like. No one should take a beating like that.” Well, maybe some people, but not Clifford. I took a settling breath. “At least stay until Iago is dealt with.”
“I don't have a choice?”
“Nope. I have tranquilizers, and you did say you needed a nap.” I smiled.
“I have to resume classes as soon as possible. My students are probably wondering what happened. I haven't made any calls, contacted anyone,
or left any notice. Nothing.”
I turned on my side and set my chin in my hand. “Your dojo burnt down.”
Shock struck his amber eyes. “What?”
“They burnt it to the ground. You won't be hosting classes for a while. And your home is gone.”
“Motherfucker!” The stoic threw back the covers, leaped to his feet, and paced. “Twisted cocksucking bastard!” Naked, he stormed back and forth, his face thick, voice dropping, doodle-berries swaying. He grabbed a lamp—my lamp—and chucked it against the wall. I couldn't tell him to calm down; he loved his place. I loved it. But the crash of the ceramic lamp brought Davey and Sarakas to the door. Both bare-chested, hair mussed, and alarmed. Sarakas held his gun and blinked at a naked Clifford.
“Give us a second,” I said. “He recently learned his livelihood burned to a crisp.”
Clifford paced, growling, knuckles popping and white.
“A psycho tries to kill you and you're nonchalant, but this has you upset?”
“Oh, I'm not upset! I'm homicidal! I'm going down to Toreno's to end—” His voice dropped, cheeks and ribs filled out, breath smacked hard. Homicidal, indeed.
“About that,” I said. “You need help killing Iago. Erik won't back your play unless you clique up. I, however, am an FBHS agent, and I can shoot the bastard in public if I wanted. Provided I find him. So here's the plan. You tell me where Iago is and what he looks like, and I'll call in a raid.”
“I can't.”
“Sure, you can. When you think about it, this is all you can do. If we let Iago get away with this, the next victim he beats within an inch of its life will be our fault. I don't want that on my conscience. Do you? What if he picks Davey?”
Clifford actually thought about it. Yea for insincere guilt trips.
Sarakas said, “Kaidlyn, can I speak with you outside?”
He was wrecking my progress. Sarakas had the gaze of a school marm, and I felt a lecture coming my way. I slipped out of the bed and met Sarakas in the hall. “What?”
“Outside the house, not outside the door. Superhuman hearing and all that.”
“Right.” He was catching on. The sun scorched my face and made me squint. Sarakas grabbed my elbow in a tight grip. “You can't call a raid on someone simply because he roughed up your boyfriend.”
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