by E. A. Copen
His big hand closed around mine, and the hint of a smile touched his blue lips. “Good.” His head rolled back to Mara. “Would you sing to me? The way you did before? Your voice is so pretty.”
Mara nodded and moved one hand away to wipe some tears from her face. Then she began to sing. I’d never heard Mara sing before, and never in the language she sang in at Aisling. Only later, after a lot of research, would I come to find out it was a traditional Swedish lullaby, the tune of which Sven must have learned as a boy. I never did learn how Mara knew it.
Sven closed his eyes and smiled. After a moment, his grip on my hand went. Sven’s chest relaxed and didn’t rise. Mara paused in her singing to stroke his long, golden hair and kiss him on the forehead.
“Mara…” I reached for her, but she jerked away.
“Leave me alone!” she shouted at me. “You’ve done enough.”
Sal came and helped me back up, handing me my crutches. He walked with me out of Aisling, but I barely remember the trip. One thought rang in my head. I had failed Mara. I had saved her life, rescued her from whatever danger I thought was beyond her. But I had failed her on every level that counted.
I don’t remember making it home or swallowing two Vicodin and crawling into bed and sleeping for a day and a half. What I do remember are the dark dreams, seeing her parents lying in a pool of their own blood, Mara cowering in the corner. There wasn’t any gratitude or relief in her face. There was only fear.
Chapter Thirty-One
The low roar of a dozen voices filled the cozy living room of Tindall’s two-bedroom home. Americana décor, freshly polished and dusted, lined the walls and his wife, a mildly plump woman with dimples, glasses, and pretty, auburn hair, put out snacks and drinks for everyone. Some cops had come in uniform while others dressed up for the occasion, sporting a suit and tie. The television was the real center of attention, though, as the polls in Concho County had closed just under a half-hour ago.
I stood with Tindall in one of the back bedrooms, holding his hat and jacket while he practiced a victory speech in the mirror. Up to and including this morning, the press favored Tindall to win the competition but only by a hair margin. As I’d been saying since the beginning, it all depended on who turned out to vote. I’d spent the last few days helping man the phones to get people out to vote. If everything went as planned, we’d squeak by with a win.
After bungling another line, he leaned back from the mirror, shook his head, and said for the hundredth time, “Goddammit. Why do I even bother? I’m not going to follow the script anyway.” He tossed the folded papers down on the bed and put his hands on his hips.
“Chin up, Tindall,” I said. “You’re supposed to be happy. Tonight’s the big win.”
“It’s FUBAR. I’m getting handed the biggest mess this county’s ever seen, and that’s if I win. On one side, there’s the supernaturals rallying behind me like I’m some sort of saint. On the other, I got humans ready to start a lynch mob and storm the gates. I feel like everybody’s watching me.”
“That’s because they are. The public sees everything you do as political when you occupy a public office,” I said. “And better for you to be in the public eye than me right now. My ass is already grass as far as public opinion goes.”
He eyed me and then grabbed his hat and sat down, turning it in his hands. “Any luck finding her?”
He was, of course, referring to Mara. In the weeks since the incident at Aisling, I’d only gone to see her once. I found her apartment empty. The neighbors said she never came back after what happened, and the landlord had boxed up all her belongings and put them in storage. I called Ed and asked him if he knew anything, but Ed wouldn’t talk to me, either. When I hit all the federal databases looking for her, nothing popped up. No bodies in any of the morgues matched her description, and she didn’t have any pending arrests. I guessed that was good. Wherever she was, she was staying out of trouble.
I shook my head. “No luck.”
“Did you try putting up posters at the bus stops? If she left town, someone has to have seen her.”
I sat down at the vanity. “No one is going to see Mara unless Mara wants to be seen. She’ll cover her tracks, just like she always does.”
Tindall’s wife appeared in the doorway. “Hon, they’re about to make the announcement,” she said excitedly.
“You ready to give your victory speech?” I asked Tindall.
“Ready as I’m ever going to be.” He stood and took his suit jacket, sliding it on and turning. “How do I look?”
“Like a politician.” He scowled at me. I put a hand on his back and gave him a playful shove toward the door. “Go on, Tindall. Knock ‘em dead.”
He paused in the doorway. “You’re not coming?”
“Be there in a minute,” I assured him, and he went on without giving me a second thought.
Once he was gone, I sat and looked at myself in the mirror. Without any effort, my hand started flexing. Even though Sal had healed the outward damage on my hand (and later my broken foot), I still didn’t have any feeling in it. Tests revealed there was some nerve damage, and they’d given me some exercises to try to fix swelling in the joints. My face had a new scar, too. I didn’t look or feel like me anymore.
The door opened again, and Hunter poked his head in. “Mom?”
I smiled and held an arm out to him. “Hey. How’s it going tonight?”
Hunter opened the door the rest of the way and put his hands in his pockets, shrugging. “I was just wondering if you’d heard from Sal. He’s not here yet. He promised he’d be here.”
“I’m sure he’s on his way,” I promised, rising from the vanity to go and hug him.
We found our way into the living room just in time to catch the end of Tindall’s victory speech. Even so early in the night, he’d won in a landslide victory thanks to a record voter turnout. I stood in the back, clapping one hand on my leg with the other thrown over Hunter’s shoulder as my friend celebrated a well-deserved victory. His cop buddies cheered and lifted him on their shoulders, carrying him out into the front yard where more of his supporters had gathered. I followed but kept my distance. This was his moment, not mine.
After a few more celebratory toasts, a black SUV pulled up. A big guy in a suit got out of the front passenger side and adjusted the bullet-proof vest he wore underneath it. From where I stood in the back of the crowd and close to the road, I could just barely make out a purple fleur-de-lis pin on the lapel of his suit.
“Friends of yours?”
I turned to find Tindall standing next to me, a glass of champagne in his hand. “I don’t think so,” I answered.
A black Hummer limousine pulled up behind the SUV. As soon as it parked, the roar of motorcycle engines drowned out every other sound on the street. The Tomahawk Kings rode onto the street in full force, eight men strong. Four men, including Sal, pulled in front of the black SUV while the other four took up the rear. I kept my eyes fixed on Sal as the suit approached. He had promised Hunter he would be here tonight, not riding with his biker buddies. The lie stirred an old anger in me.
“Sheriff Tindall?” said the suit. “Would you come with me, please?”
Tindall sighed. “Guess news travels fast. You work for Marcus, don’t you?” he said, putting his hands on his hips.
“The Master extends his invitation to both of you.”
“What invitation?” Tindall said, frowning.
I put a hand on his shoulder. “And if we refuse?”
The suit opened his jacket just enough to show he was carrying. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist.”
Tindall handed the champagne off to someone standing nearby. “I suppose a ride around the block won’t hurt.”
The suit waited until both of us had walked on ahead to turn and follow. “The Master appreciates your cooperation,” he said as he opened a door to the limo for us.
Tindall and I climbed in and sat down and the suit followed, sitting
across from us. Next to him was a man in a suit that cost more than everything I owned. He had a good, strong chin, slight freckles, and a head of slick auburn hair. One leg crossed over the other and both hands resting on the closest knee, he smiled at both of us, making sure his fangs were easily visible.
No introduction was needed. I’d seen him enough times to know who he was, even without the limo and the MC escort. I wasn’t surprised to see Marcus Kelley in the limo. It was the woman beside him who made the hair on my arms stand on end. A cold chill ran down my spine, and my heart threatened to jump out of my chest.
Zoe Matthias. Sal’s ex-wife. One of the two wendigos from my case last summer. I’d killed her, sliced open her belly, and cut a child out of her womb. Even if the body had been missing, there was no way she could have survived that. Yet here she was, tall and beautiful with dark hair and smooth skin, as perfect as ever.
She turned her painted lips up in a smile and crossed her arms over her lap. “Hello, Judah.”
“You can’t be here,” I stammered. “You’re dead.”
“Am I, now?” said Zoe, still smiling.
I turned to glare at Marcus Kelley. “What the hell do you want?”
“Judah Black…” He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “Were I in your position, I’d be more careful with my tone.”
I stupidly opened my mouth to ask about exactly what position I was in and paused when the suit pulled his gun and set it on his lap.
Marcus smirked and put his arm behind Zoe’s back. “I think it’s high time the four of us sat down to discuss a few things.”
“I don’t care who you have in your corner or how many guns your goons point at me. I’m not taking a bribe.”
“Don’t misunderstand,” said Marcus. “You’re free to leave at any time.”
I put my hand on the door handle.
“But, if you leave without hearing us out, the child you’ve been looking for will die.”
“My child,” Zoe added, and produced the scrap of bloody cloth I’d given to Kim.
I looked from Zoe to Marcus to Tindall. Then, slowly, I uncurled my fingers from the door handle, sinking back into my seat. “Tell me everything.”
Marcus rapped on the partition and then ordered his driver to take us to an address in Eden. Then, he smiled. “In due time, Agent Black. First, we negotiate.”
“Negotiate?” I said, crossing my arms. “I thought you wanted my help.”
“Everything comes at a price,” Marcus answered.
I eyed the gun, the vampire, and the wendigo, and sighed. This was going to be a long night.
Chasing Ghosts
Book 3 of The Judah Black Novels
Chapter One
I stared unflinchingly down the barrel of a gun. Not because I wasn’t scared. My throat was dry, and my palms sweaty. The vampire in the seat across from me had to hear my heart hammering. The one person who might not know yet that I was terrified was the bodyguard holding the gun, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him.
The vampire, Marcus, shifted his gaze across the SUV, folded his hands, and smirked at the man beside me. “Now, now. There’s no need for that, Detective.”
I turned my head. I’d known Detective Bryan Tindall since the government assigned me to my post in Paint Rock, Texas. I’d only ever seen him draw his gun once before, yet there he was, hand inside his suit jacket, resting on the grip of his gun. Holy hell, he had to be paranoid to attend his victory party in his own house armed like that.
Tindall’s cheek twitched. “You’ve got your weapon pointed at a federal officer, son.” He addressed the bodyguard in a level tone instead of Marcus. “I’d advise you to lower it.”
The bodyguard didn’t so much as blink.
“He will lower his weapon once the rules of our parlay have been established,” Marcus informed us.
I frowned and turned my attention to him momentarily, trying to ignore the woman sitting on the other side of him. “Tindall and I aren’t going to be bullied into accepting whatever terms you put forward. Why don’t you just tell us what you want?”
Marcus crossed one leg over the other and brushed his fingers over the front of his expensive-looking suit. He lifted his intense green eyes to mine, and I immediately dropped my gaze. I knew better than to stare into a vampire’s eyes, especially one as old and powerful as Marcus Kelley. “I am a busy man. I don’t have time for intimidation. Make no mistake, Ms. Black. You are not in control here. I hold all the cards. You two are only sitting here, enjoying your present blessings because I have willed it.”
“Present blessings?” I scoffed. “And its Agent Black to you.”
Marcus dismissed my words, waving his hand. “I’ve asked you here so that the three of us could come to an understanding.”
“What about the kid you said was in danger?” Tindall said. His arm shifted, and the bodyguard’s finger tightened on the trigger. Tindall froze.
I slid my eyes away from the gun to the woman sitting beside Marcus Kelley. Tall, thin, and beautiful with all the presence of a professional performer, she returned my glare with a smirk. She might have looked human, but she was far from it. A human doesn’t come back from what I did to Zoe Matthias.
I shifted my attention back to Marcus when Zoe did. “That is a matter for after,” Marcus said. “Between Zoe, Agent Black, and I.”
“Say what you want to say,” Tindall growled. “My arm’s getting tired, and if I lower it, I’m afraid your brute squad will make the biggest mistake of his big, dumb life.”
“Before we discuss anything else, you both must swear yourselves to secrecy. Not one word of our conversation can be repeated once you leave the car. Ever. If any of my eyes or ears—of which there are plenty among you—report back to me that you’ve spoken about our conversation—”
“You’ll kill us?” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“No. I will kill your friends. Your families. Everyone you ever knew or loved, right down to the boy who bags your groceries at the checkout line.”
Tindall and I glanced at each other. Both of us had families. I had my twelve-year-old son, Hunter. Tindall had a wife to protect, as well as all the men on the force who had just helped him secure the vote for county sheriff. We didn’t have to speak to communicate that we both believed Marcus could and would make good on his threats. Marcus had backed us both into a corner.
“All right.” I turned back to Marcus. “As long as nobody dies because of our arrangement, I agree to your terms.”
Zoe opened her mouth in protest, but her jaw snapped shut when Marcus raised a single finger from her bare knee.
“I accept your condition.” Marcus nodded. “What about you, Tindall? Do you agree to the terms?”
“Sure,” he said, then mumbled, “But why do I get the feeling this is going to come back to bite us both in the ass?”
Marcus removed his hand from Zoe’s leg and leaned forward. “Then let’s get the obvious conversation out of the way. I know that you’ve both been putting your nose into my business, asking questions about what I do and where my money comes from. Judah, you’re looking for any discrepancy that will allow you to open a formal case against me. You have a thing for taking down corrupt men in positions of power, believing that doing so always serves the greater good. It’s what destroyed your career in Cleveland and got you relocated here. It would seem you haven’t learned your lesson.”
I clenched my jaw, knowing he was right. Ever since I’d come to Paint Rock, I’d been waiting for him to make a mistake so that I could untangle his empire one thread at a time. No one got as rich as Marcus Kelley without leaving a trail of broken lives and dead bodies behind them. Still, it wasn’t just that. Every time something bad happened in Concho County, Marcus was marginally connected to it. LeDuc, the mad scientist and cannibal serial killer who had been kidnapping kids, had been his business partner. Marcus’ daughter had nearly brought the wrath of an entire clan of vampires down on the city of Eden tha
nks to her debt. People turned a blind eye to those connections because Marcus also invested heavily in the hospital and other charities. He also ran Fitz Pharmaceuticals, which had an exclusive government contract to provide supernatural testing materials. Marcus made friends everywhere from Congress to the hardware store, yet inside, he was as rotten as a bad tooth. I knew it. I just couldn’t prove it.
Marcus folded his hands in his lap. “Those investigations will cease immediately.”
It wasn’t a request. I didn’t offer him a reply. I’d agreed to silence, not to let him get away with murder.
But Marcus wasn’t looking for a reply either. He’d already made his threat implicit, so he turned to Tindall. “As you step into your new position as county sheriff, I expect you and I will be working together much more closely, Tindall.”
Tindall frowned. “If you’re going to try extortion or bribing me, you might as well just tell your man to shoot me here and now. I don’t have anything left for you to take, and I’m too old and stubborn to roll over on my morals now.”
Marcus nodded. “Not at all. Are you familiar with the Tomahawk Kings?”
“The motorcycle…er…enthusiasts?” Tindall said, tripping over the last word.
“The ones escorting this car.” Marcus nodded. “If any cases involving their ‘club’ cross your desk, I expect to be the first person you call.”
I clenched a fist. It had only been a few weeks since I discovered Sal’s involvement with the Kings. Sal was my neighbor, friend…and I guess, something more now. I still had no idea what the club did, though. He’d implied they were involved with something illegal. To find out they were connected through a protection arrangement with Marcus Kelley… Maybe Sal wasn’t the person I thought he was.
Tindall chewed on the idea for a moment before asking, “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Marcus repeated. “That, and I expect you to keep your word, Tindall. The county police department is almost hopelessly corrupt and full of officers who shoot and detain supernaturals at five times the rate of humans. I expect to see those numbers decline once you’re wearing your shiny, new badge.” He didn’t say, or else, but the implied threat hung in the air.