The FIB captain shrugged. Thats what Glenn thought, according to his notes. He went to talk to the mistress this morning. Thats where His voice cut off, and we patiently waited while he steadied himself. The working theory is, he said softly, that the husband was there and freaked out, attacked Glenn, and then they both left him for dead in their living room.
Oh my God, I whispered, going cold.
He was off duty, Edden continued, so he lay there almost an hour before someone checked on him because he didnt come in to work. Hes a smart kid, and one of his friends knew what he was doing and where he had gone.
My breath caught when Edden turned to me, pain etched deep in his brown eyes as he tried to find an answer. We never would have found him otherwise. Not in time. They left him there. They could have called 911 and fled, but they left my boy to die.
The warm prick of tears hit me, and I gave the stocky, heartbroken man a sideways hug. Hes going to be okay, I whispered. I know it. My gaze went to Ford as he came in to stand at the foot of the bed. Right?
Ford gripped the footboard as if struggling for balance. Can I have a moment with Glenn alone? he asked. I cant work with all of you in here.
Immediately I stood. Sure.
Ivy touched the lump that was Glenns feet as she passed, and she was gone. Edden slowly stood, letting go of his sons hand with an obvious reticence. Leaning over Glenn, he whispered in a severe tone, Ill be right back. Dont go anywhere, young man. You hear me?
I drew Edden out of the room. Come on. Ill get you some coffee. Theres gotta be a machine around here somewhere.
I looked back as we left. Glenn looked like crap, but as long as his mind was undamaged, hed be okay. Ford could tell, couldnt he?
As I escorted Edden down the hallway in Ivys wake, I felt a moment of guilty relief. At least Glenn hadnt been hurt because of someone trying to get to me. It might sound like vanity on my part, but it had happened before. Ivys old master vampire had raped her to get her to kill me, had given Kisten to his death for the same reason. Piscary was dead now, Kisten, too; I was alive, and I wasnt going to let others get hurt for me again.
Edden pulled out of my grip when we reached a bench across from a vending machine. Everything was done in institutional comfort: soothing shades of taupe and cushions not soft enough to encourage lingering. A wide window opened onto the snowplowed parking lot, and I sat so my feet were in the shaft of dusky sunlight coming in. There was no warmth. Edden sat beside me with his elbows on his knees, his forehead cupped in his hands. I didnt like seeing the intelligent, quick-fingered man so depressed. I didnt think he even remembered I was here.
Hes going to be okay, I said, and Edden took a deep breath.
I know he will, he said with a forcefulness that said he wasnt sure. Whoever did this was a professional. Glenn stumbled into something bigger than a wife cheating on her husband.
Ah hell. Maybe it is my fault. Ivys shadow fell on us, and I looked up. Her silhouette was sharp against the bright window, and I leaned back into shadow.
Ill find out who did this, she said, then turned to me. We both will. And dont insult us by offering to pay for it.
My lips parted in surprise. She had tried to hide herself in shadow, but her words gave away her anger. I thought you didnt like Glenn, I said stupidly, then went hot.
Her hand moved to her hip. This isnt a matter of like or dislike. Someone mauled a law officer and left him for dead. The I.S. wont do anything about it, and anarchy cant be allowed a toehold. She turned and the sun came in. I dont think a human did that to him, she said as she moved to sit across from us. Whoever it was knew exactly how to cause an excruciating amount of pain without letting him pass out from it. Ive seen it before.
I could almost hear her think, Vampire.
Eddens hands clenched, then he visibly forced himself to relax. I agree.
Unable to sit still, I squirmed. Hes going to be okay, I said. Damn it, I didnt know what else to say! Ivys entire vampiric culture was based on monsters who worked outside the law, people who treated people like boxes of chocolates. The biggest and baddest, the ones who made the rules, got away with anything.
Ivy leaned across the wide space between us. Give me the address where he was found, she demanded. I want to look.
Edden pressed his lips together, making his mustache bunch out. It was the first sign of him regaining himself. Ivy, I appreciate your offer, he said, his voice firm. But we can handle it. I have people out there right now.
Her eye twitched, and though it was hard to tell, I think her pupils were dilating in pique. Give me the address, she repeated. If an Inderlander did this, youre going to need Rachel and me. The I.S. wont help you.
Not to mention that the FIB will probably miss the Inderland stuff, I thought, settling myself with a soft huff more firmly in the thin padding.
Edden eyed her, clearly peeved himself. My department is working on it. Glenn will be conscious in a few days, and then
His eyes closed, and he became silent. Ivy stood, agitated. Almost brutal, she said, If you dont put the heat on whoever did this in the next few hours, they will be gone. Edden met her eyes and she added more gently, Let us help. Youre too involved. The entire FIB is. You need someone out there who can look at what happened with dispassion, not a desire for revenge.
I made a small noise and crossed my arms over my middle. Revenge was on my mind. Come on, Edden, this is what we do for a living! I said. Why wont you let us help?
A dry humor was in the short mans eyes as he looked askance at me. Its what Ivy does for a living. Youre not a detective, Rachel. Youre a haul-them-in-girl, and none better. Ill let you know when we find out who it is, and if its a witch, Ill give you a call.
That hit me with all the pleasure of a slap in the face, and my eyes narrowed. Ivy saw my irritation, and she leaned back, content to let me yell at him. But instead of standing up and telling him to get Turnedwhich wouldnt do anything but get us thrown outI swallowed my pride, contenting myself with bobbing my foot in anger.
Then give Ivy the address, I said, wanting to accidentally kick him in the shins. She can find a fairy fart in a windstorm, I said, borrowing one of Jenkss favorite expressions. And what if it is an Inderlander? You want to risk losing them because of your human pride?
Maybe that was low, but I was tired of looking at crime scenes after the cleaning crew.
Edden looked from Ivys mocking expectancy to my admirably contained redhead anger, then pulled out a palm-size spiral notebook. I smiled at the scratch of the pencil as he wrote something down, a pleasant slurry of contentment and anticipation filling me. Wed find whoever attacked Glenn and left him to die. And whoever it was better hope I was there with Ivy, or theyd be subjected to her own personal version of justice.
The sound of the paper tearing free was loud, and with a wry grimace, he extended the strip of white and blue to Ivy. She didnt look at it, handing it to me instead.
Thank you, I said crisply, tucking it away.
A soft scrape of shoe on carpet brought my attention up, and I followed Ivys gaze, over my shoulder. Ford was shuffling to us, his head bowed and my bag in his grip. I felt a moment of panic, and in response, he looked up, smiling. My eyes closed. Glenn was okay.
Thank you, God, Edden whispered, standing up.
I had to hear it, though, and as Ford handed me my forgotten bag and took the cup of coffee Ivy gave him, I asked, Hes going to be okay?
Ford nodded, eyeing us over the rim of the paper cup. His mind is fine, he said, grimacing at the coffees taste. Theres no damage. Hes deep into his psyche, but as soon as his body repairs itself enough, he will regain consciousness. A day or two?
Eddens breath shook as he exhaled, and Ford stiffened when the FIB captain shook his hand. Thank you. Thank you, Ford. If theres anything I can do for you, let me know.
Ford smiled thinly. Im glad I could give you good news. Regaining his hand, he backed up a step. Excuse me. I need to try to convince the nurses to back off on the meds. Hes not in as much pain as they think, and its slowing down his recovery.
Ill do it. Ivy eased into motion. Ill tell them I can smell it. They wont know the difference.
The beginnings of a smile curved my lips up as she almost sauntered down the hall, calling out to one nurse by name. Edden couldnt stop smiling, and I could see a hint of tears in his eyes as he shifted from foot to foot. I need to make a couple of calls. He reached for his cell phone, then hesitated. Ford, can Glenn hear me when I talk to him?
Ford nodded, smiling tiredly. He might not remember it, but he can.
Edden looked from me to Ford, clearly wanting to be with Glenn. Go! I said, giving him a happy little push. Tell Glenn I want to talk to him when he wakes up.
His steps fast, Edden strode toward Glenns room. I sighed, glad this story would have a happy ending. I was tired of the other kind. Ford looked pleased, and that was good, too. His life must be hell. No wonder he didnt tell anyone he could do this. Theyd work him to death.
What happened to Glenns mom? I asked now that we were alone.
Ford watched Edden wave to the nurses as he passed beyond the wide, smooth door and into Glenns room. She died fifteen years ago during a sixty-dollar stab-and-grab.
Thats why hes a cop, I thought. Theyve had only each other for a long time, I added, and Ford nodded, starting for the elevators. He looked whipped.
Ivy joined us after a last comment to the nurse. Falling into place on my other side, she looked across me to Ford. What happened at the marina? she asked as she shrugged into her long coat, and the afternoons memories rushed back.
Her tone was slightly mocking, and I gave her a sidelong glance. I knew she was secure in her belief that her slow, steady investigations would find Kistens killer faster than my reconstructing my memories. It was with no little pleasure that I glanced at Ford, then said to her, Do you have time to go out tonight and smell the carpet?
Ford chuckled, and Ivy stared, rocking to a halt at the elevators. Excuse me?
I punched the button for the lift. Your nose is better than mine, I said simply.
Ivy blinked, her face blanker than usual. You found something the FIB missed?
I nodded as Ford pretended not to listen. Theres sticky silk stuck to the rim of the dressers top. There might be a print, ah, other than the one I made today. And the floor under the window smells like vampire. Its not you or Kisten, so it might be his murderer.
Again, Ivy stared, looking uncomfortable. You can tell the difference?
The elevator doors slid open, and we all entered. Cant you? I said, backing up and pushing the button for the street level with a booted toe just because I could.
Im a vampire, she said, as if this made all the difference.
Ive lived with you for over a year, I said, wondering if I wasnt supposed to be able to tell the difference. I know what you smell like, I muttered, embarrassed. Its no big deal.
Yes, it is, she whispered as the doors closed, and I hoped Ford hadnt heard.
I watched the numbers count down. So youll go out tonight?
Ivys eyes were black. Yes.
I stifled a shiver, glad when the doors opened to show the busy lobby. Thank you.
My pleasure, she said, her gray-silk voice so thick with anticipation that I almost pitied the vampire who had killed Kisten.
Almost.
Three
I gripped the wheel of my car tighter in annoyance as Jenks continued to sing. Though the sun was going down and the roads had an arid frozenness, the interior of the car was hot. I had half a mind to turn off the heat. Anything to get Jenks to shut up.
Five trolls in dra-a-a-a-ag, the four-inch man sang from my shoulder. Four purple condoms, three French ticklers, two horny vamps, and a succubus in the snow.
Jenks, enough! I shouted, and from the passenger seat, Ivy snickered, idly tracing a hand on the inside of the misted window to clear a spot from which to gaze out at the evening. The street was thick with holiday lights, and it was holy and serene, in a money-oriented, middle-class sort of way. Unlike Jenkss carol. Which was thirteen-year-old humor to the max.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
I checked behind me and thunked the brakes. Ivy, with her vamp reflexes, easily caught herself, but Jenks was catapulted from my shoulder. He short-stopped himself inches from the windshield. His dragonfly-like wings were a blur of red and silver, but not a shadow of dust slipped from him, saying hed half expected this. The smirk on his angular face was classic Jenks.
What, he complained, hands on his hips in his best Peter Pan pose.
Shut. Up. I rolled through the stop sign. It was icy. Safer that way. At least that was going to be my story if a zealous I.S. cop stopped me.
Jenks laughed, his high-pitched voice sounding right with the easy companionship that filled the car and the festive warmth displayed outside it. Thats the trouble with you witches. No Christmas spirit, he said, going to sit on the rearview mirror. It was his favorite spot, and I turned the heater down a smidge. He wouldnt be there if he was cold.
Christmas is over, I muttered, squinting to see the street sign in the dusk. I was sure we were close. Ive got plenty of holiday spirit. Its just not Christian in origin. And though Im no expert, I dont think the church would be happy with you singing about succubi.
Maybe youre right, he said as he shifted the layers of green cloth Matalina had draped over himher attempt at pixy winter wear. Theyd rather hear about rutting incubi.
The pixy yelped, and I jumped when he darted off the mirror, Ivys hand just inches from smacking him. Shut up, pixy, the soft-spoken vamp said, her gray-silk voice severe. Her working leathers made her look like a biker chick gone sophisticate, slim and sleek, and her eyes were pupil black under her Harley-logo cap. Jenks took the hint, and muttering something it was probably just as well I didnt hear, he settled on my big hoop earring to snuggle in between my neck and the soft red scarf I had worn for just this reason. I shivered when his wings brushed my neck, a whisper of chill that felt like water.
A sustained temperature below forty-five would send him into hibernation, but he could handle short, protected trips from the car to wherever. And after hed found out about Glenn, there was no stopping him from coming out with us. If we hadnt invited him to the crime scene, Id find his half-frozen body in my shoulder bag as a stowaway. Frankly, I think he was out here trying to get away from his brood of kids, spending the winter in my desk.
Jenks, though, was worth five FIB investigators, and that was on a bad day. Pixies excelled in sneaking around, making them experts at finding the smallest thing out of place, their curiosity keeping them interested after everyone else had come and gone. Their dust didnt leave a lasting impression, and their fingerprints were invisible unless you used a microscope, in my opinion making them excellent first-ins at a crime scene. Course, no one at the I.S. had cared what I thought, and it wasnt often that a pixy would work in anything other than a temporary backup position anyway. That was how Id met Jenks, and it had been my good fortune. I wouldve taken him with me to the boat earlier today, but he would have had severe problems with the temperature.
Ivy sat up, inadvertently telling me we were close, and I started paying attention to house numbers. It looked like a human neighborhood, on the outskirts of Cincinnati in what was probably a lower- to lower-middle-class neighborhood. It wasnt a high-crime district, from the number of lights and the general tidiness of the homes, but it held a slightly run-down, soft comfortableness. Id be willing to bet the area was mostly retirees or new families just starting out. It reminded me of the neighborhood Id grown up in, and I could hardly wait until tomorrow when Id be picking up my brother, Robbie, at the airport. He had worked through the solstice, but had somehow managed to get New Years off.
That the lights around me now were the green and red of Christmas didnt mean it was a human neighborhood. Most vampires celebrated Christmas, and lots of humans celebrated the solstice. Ivy still had her tree up in the living room, and we exchanged presents when we felt like it, not on a specific date. Usually that was about an hour after I got back from shopping. Delayed gratification was Ivys thing, not mine.
Thats got to be it, Ivy said softly, and Jenks shivered his wings for warmth, tickling me. Down the street on the left was a cluster of FIB cruisers, parked with their lights off and looking gray in the dim light. At the corner in a drop of light, two people stood gossiping, their dogs tugging at their leashes to go in. There werent any news vans yet, but there would be. I could almost smell them.
Not an I.S. cruiser in sight, which was a relief since theyd probably send Denon out here. I hadnt seen the living low-blood vampire since blowing apart his cover-up of the Were murderers last summer, and Id be willing to bet that he had suffered another demotion. Looks like the I.S. isnt coming, I said softly, and Ivy shrugged.
Why would they? They dont care if an FIB officer gets beat up.
I pulled to the curb and parked the car. They might if it was an Inderlander who did it.
Jenks laughed. Doubt it, he said, and I felt a tug on my hat as he ducked under the soft yarn for the trip inside.
Unfortunately, he was right. Whereas the I.S. policed the supernatural species, they would, and did, ignore a crime if it suited them. Hence the human-run FIB that had come into being. I had once thought that the FIB was way outclassed by the I.S., but after working with them for a year, I was impressed and shocked by the information they could dig up and put together.
It had been only forty years ago during the Turn that the combined Inderland species of vamp, witch, Were, and more had actively lent a hand to prevent humans from becoming the latest endangered species when a badly engineered, genetically altered tomato mutated and wiped out a large chunk of the human population. Though to be honest, if humans had died out, most of Inderland would suffer when vamps started preying on us instead of soft, naive, happy humans. Not to mention that Mr. Joe Vampire and Ms. Sue Were liked their high-maintenance lifestyles, impossible without the backing of a large population.
What are you doing? Ivy said, her hand on the door as I fumbled around under the seat.
Ive got an FIB sign in here somewhere, I muttered, fingers jerking back as they unexpectedly found something cold and squishy.
A closed-lipped smile came over Ivy. The entire FIB knows your car.
Making a soft sound of agreement, I gave up and tugged on my gloves. Yeah, they did, seeing that theyd given it to me in payment for helping them out once, something most of them seemed to be forgetting lately. Ready, Jenks? I called, and got a half-heard stream of curses back. Something about my cream rinse and puking fairies.
Ivy and I got out together. The excitement of a run hit me when the doors thumped shut. Standing by my car, I pulled the sharp, dry air all the way to the bottom of my lungs. The clouds had that solid feel that they only get right before a heavy snow, and I could smell the pavement, white with salt and so dry and cold it would burn your fingers if you touched it.
Heels snapping, Ivy came around the car, and I followed her to the small house. The crunchy five inches of snow had been packed down, but a sad-looking three-foot snowman presided over a corner of the yard, his face melted and his hat covering his eyes. The curtains were open, and the yellow rectangles of light on the snow were starting to become obvious. Red and green lights from a neighbors display made an odd counterpoint, and I could hear the conversation from the duo on the corner. Cold, I tugged my bag up higher as we walked.
More neighbors were coming out; I felt a surge of disgust when the slow-creeping lights of a van with an antenna showed under the streetlight.
Crap, they were here already? Id wanted to talk to the neighbors before the interviewers had them thinking sensationalism instead of realism. I was sure Edden had interviewed the closest, but his people wouldnt ask the questions I wanted answers to.
There, Ivy murmured, and I followed her gaze to the dark shadow coming out from the garages side door to meet us.
Hey, hi! I called out, pitching my voice high to give the impression we were harmless. Yeah, right. Edden asked us to come out. Were from Vampiric Charms. Asked us? It was more like forced into it, but why bring that up.
The young FIB officer flicked on the outside lights, washing the crusty drive in an artificial glare. Can I see some ID? he asked, then did a double take. Oh! he said, tucking his clipboard back under an arm. Youre the witch and the vamp.
From my hat came a disgusted And a really cold pixy. Can you hurry it up, Rache? I think my nads fell off.
I stifled a grimace, pasting on a fake smile. Id rather be known by our company name than the witch and the vamp, but at least Edden had told them we were coming. Maybe he wasnt going to be such a pain in the butt about us helping. I watched the officers body language, but couldnt tell if his impatience was from the FIBs new distrust or simply the cold.
Yes, Vampiric Charms. Were here to help with the possible Inderland connection, I said before Ivy could get all vampy. Her pulling an aura and scaring the crap out of him wouldnt helpas entertaining as it might be.
Can we go in? Ivy asked with a faint promise of threat, and Jenks snickered.
Sure. The officers head was down as he wrote something. Put on a pair of booties, okay?
Ivy was halfway to the door off the garage, her motions stiff at his assumption that she didnt know her way around a crime scene. I glanced back at the street, hesitating. The news crew had set up, and the huge light they had was gathering people like a bonfire. Hey, uh, Ivy, I murmured, and she hesitated, a long, gloved hand resting on the open door.
She smiled with half her mouth. You want to go talk to them? I nodded, and she added, Youll be okay, Jenks?
Oh crap, I swore under my breath. Id forgotten about him.
Im fine! he barked, and I felt a soft tug as he settled himself. Nothings going to change inside, but I want to hear what the neighbors say. Gossip, Ivy. Thats where the truth is. Its all about the gossip.
I didnt know about gossip, but if he said hed be okay, Id rather get first impressions than stale, regurgitated comments after everyone had had a chance to think.
Ivy frowned, clearly of the opinion that crimes were solved by carefully gathered evidence, not nebulous feelings and hunches. But with a shrug, she went inside and I headed out into the night.
Pace fast, I found a spot at the back of the growing crowd, trying to stay out of the cameras line of sight. Jenks was probably hearing twice what I could, and I went on tiptoe to glimpse the man with red cheeks in the felt coat the newscaster was interviewing. I didnt think it was live, seeing that it wasnt six yet, and I eased closer, jostling for position.
They were the nicest people, the man was saying, his eyes bright with excitement. Nice people. I never would have expected anything like this from them. They kept to themselves and were real quiet.
My eyebrows rose, and Jenks snorted. Sounded like Inderlanders to me.
But then the kid next to me made a rude sound, and Jenks tugged my hair when the boy said snidely to his friend, Like he knew him. The guy is a creep, and the woman is whacked.
Got it, Jenks, I whispered so he would stop yanking on my hair. Slow and steady investigation was nice, but I wanted to find them before the sun went nova.
Smiling, I turned to find a young man in a black knit hat with the Howlers emblem, and encouraged by the show of Inderland acceptance, I felt an unusual surge of kinship. He wasnt wearing a coat, and his hands were jammed into his jeans pockets. Whacked? I said, giving his friend a quick smile to include him in the conversation. You think?
I know, he shot back, then fidgeted. I was guessing he was in high school, and I turned the Mrs. Robinson charm on full.
Yeah? I said, almost bumping into him as the crowd grew noisy when the newscaster looked for fresh meat. Dont you love how they always say one thing in front of the camera, but at the bar, the truth comes out?
He grinned, clearly thinking I thought he was older than he was. From under my hat came Jenkss impressed Nice. Reel him in, Rache.
So you know them? I said, linking my arm in his and easing him from the news crew. I kept us close so as not to leave the highly charged atmosphere the news van was creating, angling so that if a camera should point our way, all theyd get would be my back. His friend had stayed behind, and was currently jumping to try to get in the background of the shot. He didnt have a coat either, and I thought it unfair that they were warm and I was freezing my butt off out here. Witches had a lower cold tolerance than just about everyone else, excluding pixies.
Youre not a reporter, he said, and I smiled, glad he was smarter than Id thought.
Im from Vampiric Charms, I said, digging in my bag until I found a bent card and handed it to him. Im Rachel. Rachel Morgan.
Righteous! he said, his face becoming animated. My name is Matt. I live over there. Hey, Ive heard of you, he said, tapping the card against his hand. Is that really you in that shot, being dragged down the street
On my ass, I finished for him, adjusting my hat to send a whiff of cold air under it to get Jenks to stop laughing. Yeah, thats me. But I dont really summon demons. Much.
Thats cool. Thats cool, he said, seeming to grow three inches taller. Youre trying to find the Tilsons?
A jolt of adrenaline made me shiver. Edden hadnt told me their names. More than just about anything. Do you know where they went?
He shook his head, trying to look older than he was as he gave his friend a superior look. No, but they are weird. The entire family. I mowed their lawn this summer. The guy is a janitor at my school. He says hes allergic to grass. Matt smirked. Hes allergic to work if you ask me. But if you make him mad, stuff happens to you.
My eyes widened. Magic? Were they Inderlanders, like Ivy thought?
Matt shook his head and looked ill. No, stuff like your dog dying. But his wife is even weirder. I dont see her much. She stays inside a lot with their kid. She talked with my mom once, and she wouldnt let my mom touch her baby.
No kidding, I said, hoping hed say more.
And that baby of theirs is just as freaky as they are, he said, glancing at his friend. Got these weird blue eyes that follow you around. Shes quiet, like shes deaf or something. Her mom never puts her down. Mrs. Tilson wears the pants in the family, thats for hell sure.