Chapter Fifteen
“Are you all right?” Eric, the redheaded sketch artist glanced up from his drawing pad. “You’re very quiet today and even Able seems subdued.”
“We had a busy morning.” Ant managed a smile, Bridget’s voice ringing in his head. Just because someone asks if you’re all right, they don’t need a run down of everything you’ve done over the past two days. “I was admiring your talent with the pencil. What you’re putting down on the page is very close to what I see up here.” He tapped the side of his head.
“You’d think with all the advances made in magic and technology that there’d be an easier way of doing this than me asking about the length of the nose and the width of the face.” Eric chuckled. “Maybe the mages over at the academy can work on a spell or a device where I could see what’s in your head, or the tech guys could come up with a little black box you could lay your hand on and just think what the person looks like with the image coming up on a nearby screen.”
“It’s an intriguing idea,” Ant agreed. “It would be more efficient timewise as well. Officer Mike is always complaining about the amount of detail I give him, because he’s the one who has to type it all out into his files.”
“I don’t know why they can’t just allow you to create an audio file for our records.” Eric shaded down one side of the face he was drawing. “Although I did get told, the one time I asked, it’s because the computer system here looks for keywords to help link cases, and that can’t be done with audio yet,” he added with a bright smile. “I’m sure someone will work out how that can be done soon enough. There.” He tilted his pad around so Ant could see it straight on. “Are we getting close?”
Ant tilted his head from one side to the other and then back again, studying the intricate pencil lines. He would never forget the face he’d seen in his vision and as he looked at the picture, he tried to imagine super-imposing what he saw in his brain over the lines and shading Eric had done.
“I don’t mean to hold you up,” he said, when he noticed Eric watching him with a quirked brow. It was likely he’d been quiet for longer than considered acceptable by someone asking a question. “You’ve drawn this man with a frowning expression, which changes the shape of a person’s face, wouldn’t you agree?”
“It definitely does, especially the lower half of the face.” Folding his pad back around so he could see it, Eric said, “Are you telling me this maniac was smiling?”
Ant nodded. “When he stood up, after his victim had died, he had this look of” – Ant tried to think of the word that would describe the expression he’d never forget – “triumph? A celebration? As if he was really happy and proud of what he’d done? He was puffed as well, probably from the running and the exertion of swinging that sword thing…”
“You mentioned the ‘sword thing/machete’ in your court testimony.” Eric nodded eagerly. “We should probably try and draw that as well, so our experts here can work out exactly what type of blade it was. That would make it easier to find.”
“I’m not sure how,” Ant said slowly. “Wouldn’t a person throw it away or bury it?”
“You’d be amazed at how many people never believe they are ever going to get caught. The police find all manner of trophies, weapons, and so much more when they finally have a lead on the person they think are responsible for a crime.”
Eric was busy changing the mouth, adding some extra shading in the gap between the mouth and nose, and then adding highlights to the eyes of the drawing he’d done. Ant was happy to watch him work, his hand firmly in the ruff on Able’s neck. He ached – Ant didn’t think it was possible for his physical and emotional state to be so closely tied. But every minute away from Viktor dragged as if it were an hour or more, and Ant knew Able was feeling his despondency, too. This is important, he reminded himself. I said I was going to do something, so I am.
Ant didn’t even want to consider how he was feeling about Viktor’s apparent disregard for innocent life, but he would deal with that when he was alone, or perhaps with Bridget. Although he wasn’t sure his morning was something he really wanted to discuss with her. She was likely just going to say, “I told you so,” and then research a million ways he might be able to break his mating before it’d even begun. Something Ant did not want and already knew it couldn’t be done.
“You know, I’m sure I drew someone similar to this about six months ago.” Eric tapped the drawing with the end of his pencil. “Mind you, I have a similar issue to those you might have, I imagine. I see so many faces. For all I know I’m actually drawing the face of the man who works at the coffee bar I go to every morning.”
Ant forced a smile because he knew it was expected. “If your barista is wearing thousand dollar suits there’s a good chance he owns the place, and his regular guy is running late. That’s looking really good. If you can just darken the shadow here…” He leaned over, taking care not to touch Eric at all. Having a vision now would be a straw too many. “And extend that down the bridge of his nose a bit more. He’s got like a…I can’t think of the word, but a divot, or ridge down here.” He rubbed the spot between his own eyes.
“Wrinkles or badly done Botox.” Eric chuckled as he added in the shadow. “I’m certain I’ve drawn this face before or someone similar.”
As he held up his pad again, Ant’s magic surged, and he quickly judged the distance between where he and Eric were sitting and the door. Eric tilted his head as someone outside the office yelled, “Sir, you can’t go back there,” but it wasn’t like Viktor would listen.
It was like when Ant was in the lecture hall all over again. The door smashed open, the handle of it embedding itself into the plaster of the wall this time around. Viktor’s chest was heaving and his eyes were flashing red, although he clearly hadn’t changed his clothes from when Ant had left him that morning.
What was new was the semi-naked man wriggling against Viktor’s shoulder. “Let me go, you bastard,” the man yelled. “I’ll have you jailed for this. Help. I’ve been kidnapped.”
Viktor grabbed the man’s head by his badly dyed hair, and raised it so Ant could see it. “Is this the man who murdered that Fallows guy?” His voice was almost a growl.
Ant looked at the man’s face – the bright green eyes now glittering with malice and a sneer had replaced the twisted grin of triumph. But it was definitely the same features. “Yes, it’s the same man. See?” He pointed to Eric’s drawing. “We work well together, Eric. Can you see now what I mean about that divot thing between his eyes?”
“Definitely wrinkles.” Eric nodded and then his eyes widened. “By gods, that’s Tony ‘The Hammer’ Manzano. He murdered Fallows?”
“Yes, he did.” Ant met Tony’s hateful eyes without flinching. “And as the psychic on record, I will happily testify to that in court.”
“I hope this what you meant when you said I needed to do something.” Viktor dropped the trussed up Tony to the floor and put his foot on his back to stop him moving away. “Will you and Able come home with me now?”
Ant was just about to agree when Tony started yelling again. “You dragged me out of my innocent bed, tied me up, and carried me in here, humiliating me and spreading lies about me, and you did all that for a fuck? Has that psychic got a gold plated asshole or something?”
Viktor bent down so fast his body blurred, grabbing Tony around his jaw with both hands and hoisting him up again, high enough Tony’s feet were dangling in the air. “That psychic knows how often you’ve been lying to me, and you know how I hate cheats and liars,” he growled into Tony’s face. “He’s also my mate. A mate I will cherish and protect with every skill and power I have. Call your fancy lawyers and start talking deals because you’re cooked, you’re done, and now you’re nothing more than yesterday’s leftovers.”
Tony landed on the floor with an “oof” as Viktor dropped him again.
“Someone fucking arrest this menace.” Viktor waved his hand at a crowd of officers who were all crammed by the door. “One of you must have a set of restraints.”
“What’s the charge?” Mike came in, reaching for his restraints. “Is this about you getting shot at the other night, Doctor Channon?”
“No.” Ant got out of his seat. “Mr. Manzano is the man responsible for the murder of Mr. Fallows. You already have my testimony on file and that should be enough to conduct a search of the man’s properties. Eric, can we make another time to get a picture of the weapon involved?”
“The weapon used for the murder was a twenty-four inch, two-handed katana machete, custom made for Tony when he was in South America two years ago.” Viktor huffed. “I did take the time to find that as well. I dropped it off at the front desk. For some reason the officers around here pull out their guns anytime a vampire walks into a precinct with a katana in one hand and a near naked man on his shoulder. Ant. Can we go home now? You, me, and Able?”
“Yes. That was definitely an example of you doing the right thing. Thank you.” Stepping around his chair, Ant made sure he avoided Tony’s outstretched hand as the man tried to roll in his direction. He did not want to touch him for any reason.
“I’ll kill you, blood sucker,” Tony roared as Ant stepped into Viktor’s personal space. “You and your woo-woo psychic both. You’ll never be safe. My family will hunt you down. You’re both dead men walking.”
“Can you add threatening a police consultant to the list of charges?” Ant said, unruffled by the outbreak. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard similar sentiments. “Incidentally, if Tony complains about the manner in which he arrived here, Viktor was conducting a citizen’s arrest on my behalf. I’m sure the judge will appreciate Viktor’s efforts for taking a cold-blooded murderer off the streets. Thank you, Mike. We’ll come down…”
Ant rested his hand on Viktor’s chest – the surge of energies coming from the vampire was so overwhelming Ant almost pulled away. But he didn’t.
“Sorry, let me rephrase that. We won’t be coming down to the precinct. I’ll call you tomorrow, Mike, to make sure there’s nothing else you need from me or Viktor to tie this case up. We…er…I’m claiming mating leave.”
The shift in Viktor’s energies from dark and desperate to overwhelming relief was almost instant, and Ant knew he’d done the right thing. “I’m taking the mandatory three days leave as decreed necessary by the Mage Council. Starting now. I’m sure you’ll have everything under control. Able, come on. It’s time to go home.”