by E. A. Copen
I started to speak, but he stopped me, putting a finger over my lips.
“I know it’s hard for you to see, but take it from a dying old man. You’re not ready to listen. When you are, you will know everything.” He stood and straightened his cane. “Now, would you look at the time? I’m over fifteen minutes late for my appointment. Looks like I’ll have to reschedule.” He flashed me a grin and nodded. “I’ll see you later, Judah. Take care.”
I sat on the bench for a long time after Chanter left, thinking about what he’d said. Maybe he was right, and I just needed to let it go for now. But if Istaqua kept showing up and barging in at all hours, I didn’t know how long I’d be able to handle that. If this was going to go forward, we were going to have to come to an understanding, and Sal would have to apologize.
Chapter Nine
Smooth jazz played in the elevator as I rode up to the sixth floor. The air inside was stuffier than it had seemed the night before, and it smelled faintly of disinfectant. The door opened, and I stepped into the same hallway as before. This time, a grim-faced and middle-aged member of housekeeping stood in the hallway beside a tall cart carrying brightly colored plastic trays full of half-eaten meals. She pressed her glossy lips together and sighed as she pulled the cart into the service elevator across the hall.
Through the re-enforced safety glass of the ward’s security doors, I could see half a dozen young people sitting in a circle around a table. One of the orderlies, a dark-complexioned man with glasses, smiled and stood in front of them, scribbling on a piece of poster board propped up on a cheap easel. He was the only one engaged in the activity. The kids looked at him, sure, but their eyes were glazed and far off. One girl sitting in the middle of the group had fading pink hair. She sat with dark circles under her eyes and scratched absent mindedly at fresh pink scars on her wrists. Looking at her reminded me of Mara. A sudden pang of icy regret settled into my chest. I had failed her. I couldn’t let that happen to Mia.
I pressed the buzzer for entry. There was an audible click as the security doors unlocked. I pulled the door open and stepped into the ward.
“Didn’t expect to see you back so soon,” said Nurse Uhl from beside the desk.
“Surprised you’re still here,” I answered and took the sign-in clipboard from her.
“I’m just about done. Eleven to eleven shifts, six days a week. Sometimes I envy you nine-to-fivers.” Her voice held a twinge of irritation. Understandable, considering she’d already been up all night and had to deal with me once before. I could have told her my hours were much more irregular than she thought, but that would have done nothing but irritate her further. I was sure she already didn’t much care for me.
I signed my name in big, clear letters and handed the clipboard back to her. She frowned at it and scribbled my name—spelled correctly this time—onto another visitor badge that I affixed to my chest. “You know anything at all about Mia? Any flickering lights since she came up here? Strange smells? Unusual sounds?”
She stuck out her bottom lip and leaned against the desk. “You’re asking me if she’s haunted.”
“I saw something last night that might suggest that as a possibility, yes.”
“I haven’t seen anything,” Nurse Uhl said with a shrug. “But I don’t spend a lot of time over there. Only once an hour. I don’t like the way that woman looks at me.”
I assumed by “that woman,” she meant Zoe.
The nurse leaned in closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Between you and me, the whole situation’s fishy. Only a handful of the staff has access to that room since Mr. Kelley changed the locks. He might be padding my check to look the other way when suits like you come in here, but I know when something’s up. Is that girl some kind of extra freaky supernatural weirdo? Maybe something new?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not at liberty to say. The bureau would appreciate it if you didn’t posit your theories to anyone else. For your sake.”
I don’t play the mysterious conspiracy fed card very often. I couldn’t follow through on any of the threats I made, but Marcus would, so my warning was as protective as it was preventative. If she talked, Marcus would silence her, probably permanently.
Nurse Uhl seemed unfazed by the threat. She pushed back away from the counter and lifted her purse over her shoulder. “Well, anyway, good luck with whatever it is you’re investigating.” She slid past me, walked to the door, and swiped her badge through the reader on her way out.
The group meeting in the common area gave me disinterested glances as I walked to Pod Four. I made sure not to make eye contact with the orderly working with them, even though I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my head. Eye contact encouraged him to talk to me, and he might stop me with more questions. Walk anywhere with purpose, and almost no one questions your presence. It’s something the world’s top criminals know. Mia’s door was closed and locked. I knocked on the door and it opened. Doctor Han stepped aside and offered a small bow in the form of a greeting.
“It’s good to see you again, Agent Black.”
Han’s soft-spoken and polite demeanor may have fooled everyone else, but something about him didn’t sit right with me. Every time he spoke, the skin on my arms prickled, and something set off the early warning signals in my brain. I’m not sure what made me inherently distrust him. Maybe it was the fact that he was working for Marcus or his connection to Andre LeDuc. Either way, I didn’t buy the kindly old doctor routine.
I scanned the room and found Zoe’s chair empty. “Where’s Zoe?”
“Stepped out for a bite.” The corner of Han’s mouth turned up ever so slightly, and his eyes sparkled. I wondered if that was his version of a joke.
“I hope for her sake there aren’t any bodies for me to find,” I said. “I’m sure you’re aware of her condition.”
“Her existence is not a condition.” Han closed the door, and the lock engaged with a click. “If anything, I consider her a curiosity that warrants further study.”
“Does that explain your interest in Mia as well?”
Han pressed his lips together and adjusted his glasses. The corners of his eyes wrinkled. “I am, of course, bound by duty to keep her best interests in mind. However, based only on what little study I have been able to do concerning her unique genetic code, she does present a great opportunity to the field of genetic science. Doctor LeDuc may have been a madman at the end, but he was a leading genius in his field for a very long time before that.”
Han went over to stand beside Mia’s crib. “But I doubt you came here to discuss my medical interest in Mia Matthias so much as to check on her medical history and her condition.”
“That’s right. Were you treating Mia on a regular basis before she fell sick?”
“I am Marcus’ personal physician. I treat his entire household.”
I don’t know why, but when he said that, I found the fire reigniting in my chest. My fingernails dug into the meat of my palm, and I had to force myself to relax. “Mia isn’t a part of Marcus’ household. She never was, and she never will be.”
Han’s eyes slid up to me, half-closed. He shrugged. “I take my orders from Marcus. I will continue to treat her until that consent is withdrawn, or someone else is qualified to make medical decisions on the child’s behalf.”
“Zoe can’t?”
“What do you think?”
I didn’t answer him. In my silence, I realized he hadn’t answered me either. “Was she generally a healthy kid? Hit all her milestones and such?”
He took up her wrist and stared at his watch a moment before answering, maintaining the same bored tone in his voice. “For your purposes, that information is not important. What you would really like to know is how fast her symptoms came on. You would also like a comprehensive list of her symptoms and to know if anyone else has been affected by the same indicators. Your theory assumes that this is a contagion, and if you can list a series of facts, you can isolate a cause.” He d
ropped Mia’s arm. It fell to the mattress with a dull thud and he smiled at me. “Is that at all accurate?”
It took me a second to pick my jaw up off the floor. If Han wasn’t telepathic, picking thoughts from my brain, he was a damn good guesser. “Yeah, I guess.”
“I can email you her entire medical record. Marcus has already signed the necessary releases. I only need to know where to send it.”
Something about his smile made my skin crawl as he held a clipboard and pen out to me. The grin looked too big for his face. I took the clipboard from him and scribbled down my personal email. I was halfway through when he spoke again.
“It’s quite natural, your dislike of her.”
I looked up from the clipboard and narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Zoe. You feel threatened by her presence. From a biological standpoint, I suppose you’d be right. After all, even if you get everything you want, the best possible outcome for you is that you would be forced to raise another woman’s offspring. In warring bands of chimps, males often kill the offspring of rival males. It forces the female back into estrous, and they breed with her. I have often observed this sort of mate competition among the females of your species.”
I finished jotting down my email and held the clipboard back out to him. “Our species, you mean.”
His smile widened, sending chills up my spine. “Do I?”
I let go of the clipboard, even though he hadn’t reached out to take it. It clattered to the floor between us, but he didn’t even flinch, nor did he make any move to retrieve the fallen clipboard. Instead, the doctor threw his head back and let out an uncharacteristically loud laugh. After a moment, he stopped and scratched the corner of one eye. “I will not tell her you’ve been in to look after Mia, even though doing so would be far more interesting than keeping my silence. However, I will contact you if her condition changes.” He bobbed his head low and to the side as if dismissing me.
“See that you do,” I snapped in return and stormed out.
It was too early to call it a day and too late to do much else, so I drove out of the parking lot with my mind set to deal with my other problem. Werewolf boyfriends and sick children aside, I still had to worry about getting my house back in order and trying to find out who had wrecked it.
Keeping tabs on supernatural hate groups that moved in and out of the area was part of my job description. That happened more often than I cared to think about. The first amendment kept me from being able to arrest them so long as they staged peaceful protests in designated areas. My house was not a designated area. Neither was Patsy’s friend’s. Patsy said this wasn’t the first crime of its kind. A vampire’s house had been set on fire. I didn’t want to say out loud that I already knew who was behind both crimes. Hate crimes weren’t rare, especially against supernaturals, but Paint Rock was a supernatural reservation. Even though they didn’t get along, I didn’t think one group would target another. Oh, the hate was there. Just everybody understood that you didn’t throw matches into gasoline. Like it or not, the fae, werewolves, and vampires called Paint Rock home, and nobody wants to destroy peace in their home. It had to be an outside group.
There were dozens of species oriented hate groups: The Anti-Vampire League of America (AVLA for short), Iron Maidens (who opposed fae rights), The Humans First Coalition. The closest office for any of them was in Austin. While that didn’t eliminate them from the pool of possible suspects, the Vanguards of Humanity were the more likely candidates. They’d just opened an office in downtown Eden and helped back Sheriff Maude’s campaign for re-election.
After being gouged for downtown parking in the garage, I walked the block and a half down the sidewalk under an angry sun. November in Concho County meant the temperatures dipped down into the seventies on cold days, which meant the locals put on sweaters. Where I come from, seventy was shorts weather, but the people in Eden had donned their coats and long sleeves.
In front of a strip of glass storefronts, a middle-aged man handed out pamphlets. He stopped me, shoved one in front of my face and asked, “How about you? Do you hate crime?” The picture on the front page made my stomach reel and my head wonder how they’d gotten it. It was from the crime scene at Aisling, the last case I’d worked. Blood, gore, and guts were splattered all over a wall under film equipment.
“Get that the hell out of my face,” I growled, and shoved the paper aside.
“You like crime in your neighborhood, then?”
The man obviously didn’t know who I was. I decided to swallow my disgust and play along. “Nobody likes crime. Not many folks like having a bloody picture shoved in their face either, pal.”
He ignored my objection once again and launched into his speech. “In neighborhoods densely populated by supernaturals, the crime rate is as much as thirty times higher than human-only neighborhoods. At the same time, more supernaturals than ever are on some form of public assistance. Your hard-earned tax dollars are feeding criminals, lady.”
I took the pamphlet he was holding out to me and leafed through it. “Your literature is citing a study that your organization funded. You’re not worried about confirmation bias?”
“No one else is doing the research, lady.”
“BSI is.” I held the pamphlet out to him. “And your numbers are a little off. In fact, BSI studies found that there was no strong correlation between the density of supernatural populations in an area and crime rates.”
The man blinked and stuttered, “Well, then how do you explain all the crime at the reservation down the road? A bunch of kids got snatched up by a murderer last year. That doesn’t happen here.”
“The perpetrator wasn’t even a U.S. citizen, let alone a resident of the reservation.”
“Everyone knows you go to Paint Rock to buy drugs.”
“Really?” I fished in my pocket and brought out my badge. He gave it a nervous glance. “You know who’s selling? That way, I can do something about it.”
“What do you want, lady?” he said, gritting his teeth.
“Nothing you’ve got.” I knocked my shoulder into him as I passed on the way to the door.
A bell tinkled when I pushed open the door on a small storefront with printing materials in the back. Pamphlets like the one the man outside had tried to hand to me lined the counter and walls. There was a donation jar sitting to the right of a cash register. As soon as the door closed, the bell jingled again, and another middle-aged man came up from the back. “Can I help ya?” he said in a very Texan accent.
I showed him my badge right away. “You know anything about someone throwing a flaming brick into a vampire’s house?” I hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but the guy out front pissed me off. Tact is hard.
The guy behind the counter smiled at me and gave a lighthearted chuckle. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about the Vanguard, miss, but we’re not a hate group. We’re a nationally recognized non-profit.”
“You’re a bunch of rich white guys who don’t like anyone who isn’t a rich white guy,” I snapped. “And if I ever see you, or any of your other members in or near Paint Rock, I won’t arrest you. I’ll give your names and pictures to my werewolf friends. How’s that for being a dog-fucker?”
His face paled. “We are an organization that promotes basic human rights and equality. Safety and sane lawmaking.”
“I know hate when I see it.”
He shook his head. “You’re mistaking exclusivity for hate. It’s not the same thing. All we’re doing is trying to make sure humans have the same rights they’ve always had. I don’t think that’s wrong. Do you?”
I was so mad by then that I couldn’t see straight. I slammed my hand on the counter. A lightning flash of pain traveled through my palm and up my arm, and I hissed. “Now, you listen to me,” I started but never got the chance to finish.
The door chime jingled again, and a heavyset beat cop I recognized as one of Sheriff Maude’s crew stepped through. He hooked his thumbs on his belt and sa
id, “Is there a problem in here?”
“No problem,” I spat and turned away from the counter, headed for the door. “You boys all keep your noses clean.”
“You don’t have any jurisdiction here,” the man in the shop yelled after me as I went out.
He was right. Without opening a formal case, I couldn’t make any arrests, and I didn’t want to open a case. BSI would send someone down again to complicate my life further. Even if I did open a case, I didn’t have any evidence. Maude was still the lame-duck sheriff for another two months until Tindall got sworn in, and his boy had gotten there awful fast to back up the Vanguard. The next two months were going to be a living hell if I tried to move against the Vanguard or Maude. It was best to just leave things as they were. After all, it was only an isolated incident.
Chapter Ten
I drove back to Paint Rock, unable to get Sal’s little girl out of my mind.
Mia. A werewolf. Not just any child werewolf, one immune to silver. That was huge and scary at the same time. The minute BSI figured out what she was, they’d want to pick her apart cell by cell to see how she worked. Han might do the same, given the chance. I didn’t get the feeling the doctor was concerned about her as a person, but rather, as a viable specimen for whatever it was he had planned. The doctor creeped me the hell out.
But her unique abilities weren’t the only reason for my concern. Mia deserved a chance at as normal a life as possible, something she wouldn’t get if she stayed with her mother. Sal deserved the chance to be with his daughter. There was no way I could do that and not hurt Sal. I’d eventually have to tell him I knew about her. Not just that, but I’d lost her and let her spend the first part of her life among monsters. I’d been lying to Sal by omission for over a year. The realization of that weighed heavily on my heart as I pulled into Patsy’s driveway.