Chapter 5
Chapter Five
I could finally afford a car, but I still hadn’t gotten around to buying one. Instead, I took cabs or one of the rideshare services that were like cabs, only nicer.
One of those services, Lyft, dropped me off down the street from my house so I could check in with the local neighborhood watch, which consisted of Smokey, No Good Mikey, and occasionally ex-boxer Mince.
It didn’t take long for Smokey to come hustling my way, his face drained of color and a trickle of blood down his neck.
Alarm rolled through me. I picked up my pace, yelling out, “It didn’t scratch you, did it?”
“Reagan,” he said as he neared, out of breath. “Thank God. That thing was disgusting. I didn’t get pictures, but I can describe it in detail. Where are your eyebrows?”
“They flew away with that creature you probably saw. Did it scratch you?” I pointed at the line of blood originating from a small dot on his neck.
He absently brushed at his skin. “No. Some idiot mugger thought I had money. But the bird claws scraped at me. They didn’t draw blood, but I felt them. Why? Is that bad?” He pushed in closer and stuck his cheek out for inspection.
“If you’re still alive, you’re probably fine.”
“Wait,” he said, shadowing me down the street toward my house. “There are a bunch of police down there. Maybe you should sneak in through the back. I’ve been avoiding them.”
I shrugged. “I’m not worried about police. I don’t have anything on me they’d be concerned about.”
“Except your gun.”
“I have a license.” Illegally obtained, but nonetheless real, just like the papers that had legitimized me in the supernatural world.
Darius was nothing if not thorough.
“The sword?”
“I’ll say it’s a Lord of the Rings sword. No one questions extreme nerd-dom. It’s crazy without equal.”
“ You are crazy without equal.”
He had a point there.
“Fine,” he said, slouching beside me. “So anyway, first I saw a huge bunch of birds. Little black birds.” He cleared his shaking voice. “Wait. Let me just start from the beginning.”
I listened as I closed the distance to my house. Once there, I leaned against the railing beside the two steps that led up to my porch while looking at the cemetery opposite us. In a normal neighborhood, there’d probably be a cluster of people hanging out around the cemetery gates, trying to peek in and see what had happened. Not in this neighborhood. People minded their own business where cops were concerned.
Glaring lights glowed from behind the stone wall. Yellow police tape crossed off the opening, and I could just see someone within standing sentry.
“Did you tell the cops what you saw?” I asked Smokey.
“No way. How could I? First they’d want to know why I felt it was my duty to police the cemetery. Then they’d want to know how come I couldn’t ID the killer. To the first question, I couldn’t very well tell them that I was on the lookout for witches or other supernaturals. And the last…well, we both know I’d sound insane. I haven’t even told Mikey. I don’t know what to tell him, other than that something is going on in the cemetery and you know what it is. Sorry that I had to throw you under the bus, but…”
“It’s fine. So you didn’t talk to the cops at all?”
“No. I don’t do well when questioned.”
“Good.” I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I was tired and hungry. “Well, I killed that thing, so you’re good. It won’t be coming back. But if you see birds like that again, get to cover, or get to where there are more people. It tends to pick off the loners, apparently.”
“I got really lucky, Reagan. Really lucky. It’s made me question…” He hesitated for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about moving out of this neighborhood. Vampires are one thing, but stuff like this…”
I patted his bony shoulder. “That thing killed two people in the French Quarter. Trust me when I say that of all the neighborhoods in New Orleans, you’re probably safest in this one.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I live here.” I patted him again and turned toward my house as a white Crown Victoria pulled up alongside the cemetery. I glimpsed the man getting out of the passenger side, did a double take, and then noticed the driver, who was stepping out of the other side of the car.
Damn it.
“Get gone,” I said to Smokey.
He didn’t need to be told twice. He was slinking away even as the younger detective, whose name was lost to the black hole, crossed the street.
“Long time no see,” the younger detective said with a smile. He was a handsome devil and he knew it. That cocky grin of his slipped when he stepped up onto the sidewalk next to me. “What happened to your eyebrows?”
I ignored his question. “You guys here to look at the murder?” I pointed at the cemetery as Sean crossed the street after him.
Suspicion crossed the younger detective’s face. “Yeah. What do you know about it?”
“My department ended the threat not that long ago,” I said, taking a seat on my porch steps. “There were two more victims in the French Quarter. I bet you’ll get the call soon.”
“Your department ended the threat?” he asked. “Aren’t you guys psychics?”
“Yeah. We consulted our crystal balls, so we knew just when to drop the piano out of the window.” I clapped my hands together. “Splat.”
“They think it’s a serial killer,” Sean said as the younger detective shifted in confused annoyance. “This was the first. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
“A serial killer who does fast work. Of the three victims that I know of, yes, this was the first. Before this, though…” I shook my head. “I have no idea. The creature that did it is called an aswang . Clarissa gave me the basics after we left your last crime scene. It was old, hungry, and really gross. I have no idea where it might’ve come from, or what it was doing here.”
“Wait.” The younger detective held up his hand, blinking repeatedly.
“Is this what you do, then?” I gestured to the young buck without shifting my gaze from Sean. “You just take the new guy around until he finally pieces it together?”
“Piece what together?” the younger detective demanded. I could see his anger boiling just below the surface.
“Never mind, J.M.,” Sean said, not sparing him a glance. “Go check in with the others. Get a feel for what happened. We have a lot of ground to cover tonight.”
“No, wait. What is it I’m supposed to be piecing together?”
Sean straightened his shoulders and turned to J.M. Something in the older man’s bearing read: Do not mess with me, or I will rip your spine out of your mouth and beat you with it.
I grinned, because I hadn’t expected this type of alpha standoff from Sean. J.M., sure, but not Sean. He seemed too sweet.
I waved the whole thing away. “Let him stay. You might not think he’s ready, but it’s better to bring people on when they’re younger and can bounce back than when they’re older and easier to break. Besides, if you’re going to keep bringing him around to these kinds of crime scenes, he’ll be a target. He should know what he’s getting into.”
“Okay, this is starting to piss me off,” J.M. said in a rough voice. “I want answers, and I want them now!”
Sean turned back toward me slowly, his body taut. I had a feeling the two of them would have more than a few standoffs down the road. J.M. didn’t seem the type to blindly do as he was told. It was something we had in common.
“In answer to your question, Reagan,” Sean said, taking out his notebook, “yes, we wait until they start piecing things together. There are probably better ways, but I hate sounding as crazy as I feel.” He readied his pen. “Do you want to tell me what you know?”
I relayed what I’d heard from Smokey, telling them that he had seen the whole thing, but he shouldn’t be questioned by the normal police, for obvious reasons. I made a point of telling them about the bit of blood on his neck, and how it had gotten there, because they’d be sure to notice it. I then went through what I’d seen in the French Quarter, ending with the showdown.
J.M. turned more incredulous as my explanation continued, until he was looking at Sean and me with obvious doubt and disbelief. Also humor. He clearly thought we were pulling his leg.
“At least this case will be easy to put away,” I said when I’d finished. “You can get back to the other one.”
“You guys can’t be serious,” J.M. said with a chuckle. “I mean, I’ve heard about making light of the grisly crimes, but this is ridiculous.”
“Go look at the body,” Sean said in an even voice. “I’ll be right there.”
J.M. sighed, then shook his head and turned away .
“It’s too early and he’s hardheaded,” Sean muttered. “He’ll resist until the very last.”
“You’d be surprised. The body he’s about to see is grrr- oss ! Look up an aswang. You’ll see.”
Sean put his notebook away. “Head to bed. I won’t need anything more from your department. I’m sure Captain Lox will have this all written up in the morning.”
“Yes, he will. What about that other case? Did you make any headway?”
“In two hours?” Sean smiled and scratched his shoulder, turning sideways on the sidewalk to watch as J.M. ducked under the police tape and headed into the cemetery. “My hunch says it’s the daughter. We haven’t found the murder weapon yet, but we found a few fibers for the lab to analyze. The crime wasn’t calculated, so there are bound to be over a dozen slip-ups. We’ll solve it. Thanks, by the way. You’re much quicker and more thorough than the rest of the agents at MLE. You’ll make captain someday, I have no doubt.”
“Good God, that sounds horrible. Don’t jinx me.” I stood with a grimace. “Besides, I think I’m fired. I punched my weasel of a coworker. That was my last strike.”
“What’d he do?”
“He was gloating over saving my life even though he technically didn’t. It’s the little things. ”
“Well, good luck with that. I’m sure I can get you a job working on the other side of things if you’re interested.”
“You guys would certainly frown on the type of work I excel at. Namely, killing things. Thanks, though. And good luck with the young buck.” I climbed my steps, threw him a wave, and let myself into my house.
The keys clanked as they tumbled into the bowl by the door. My air freshener was doing its job, filling the entryway with the smell of clean cotton. I glanced at the renovated living room off to the right, which boasted the best furniture money could buy, accentuated with wall decor that must’ve cost a fortune.
I turned into my totally revamped kitchen, now sporting granite countertops and the latest appliances available. A small, round table made of some sort of barn-looking wood sat in the corner. Shabby chic , or so I’d been told by Marie, the extremely elegant vampire who essentially worked for Darius.
The deal I’d made with Darius a couple months ago was that in exchange for helping him bring in the person terrorizing the unicorns, I’d get a boatload of money and a house of my choosing, fully paid for. I could’ve picked any house, anywhere—a mansion in the Garden District, a chateau in Beverly Hills, the sky was the limit.
Much to Darius’s dismay, I’d chosen the one I had been renting (and had half ruined). Why not? It was plenty big for just me, and it came with a neighborhood watch. You couldn’t beat that.
My landlord at the time had seemed intent on resisting the purchase, but he’d undergone a sudden change of heart. Darius was in the habit of getting what he wanted.
I had fully expected to wait for the insurance company to fix it up before I bought it and made it my own, but again, Darius had had other plans. Without my consent, he’d fully renovated the whole place, top to bottom, forcing me to move into a hotel as he did so. Half of the house had been fine, but that hadn’t escaped his perfectionist’s eye. He’d updated my bedroom and the guest room, and even put in an extension, which ate up half of the backyard. Not to worry, he’d also bought out three-quarters of the backyard from the guy behind me, and pushed my fence back accordingly. I didn’t even know that could be done, but I did enjoy the extra space.
Then Marie and her army had come in and gone nuts. I could’ve had some say in what direction she took, but that lady had more style in her fingernail than a ten-year subscription to Vogue . The result? I was living in small-scale luxury in a rough part of town.
I’d expected the vampires to get lost at that point. The terms of our deal had been fulfilled on both sides. Per the contract, they were supposed to leave me alone. Sure, I’d expected them to check in from time to time to make sure I wasn’t spilling the beans about their unicorn secret, or even telling the shifters—their archenemies—everything I knew about vampire habits, but that didn’t happen. Instead, they hung around. Constantly. Even if I didn’t physically see them for a couple days, there was always evidence they’d come around to check up on me.
I did not appreciate it. Not only was my privacy at stake, but people were starting to think I was a vampire’s pet.
I most definitely was not a vampire’s pet. What did people take me for, insane?
Besides, how many ways could a person say get lost? I was pretty sure I’d tried them all. It wasn’t my fault they’d taken to hovering around like ghouls.
I flicked on the lights even though I didn’t need them to see, and headed toward the fridge. Bracing myself, I opened the door and immediately squinted. The thing was like the inside of a disco ball. Bright white light assaulted me from a few different places within the well-stocked interior. Blue shone at the back, letting me know the filter was in fine working order.
Not like I would need to change it. The second it was out, it would be changed for me. If I ate all the cheese? New, expensive cheese would show up the next night. Cleaning the fridge? Done for me. Cleaning the rest of the house? Taken care of when I wasn’t home.
Yes, the vampire presence in my house was pretty obvious. I was living with an army of invisible butlers. And while that sounded super cool, and might’ve been a lifelong dream once upon a time, I also knew they were reporting my every move to their master. Darius. The most persistent, overbearing vampire I’d ever met. He treated me like we were bonded and I was fragile, even though no way were we bonded, and I certainly wasn’t fragile. He acted like he was still under orders from Vlad (elder vampire supreme) to protect and look after me, and he did it with the diligence and the attention to detail that had kept him alive through so many troubled periods throughout history.
Did I mention I’d tried to bar the door? Didn’t matter. With their “breaking and entering” magic, as I called it, they could undo any lock I tried to use, then waltz in against my wishes, rearrange everything, look through my stuff, stock my fridge, and wash, fold, and put away my undies. My undies!
Did I say overbearing? I meant suffocating.
Had I paid for the service, okay, but he was doing this after I’d expressly asked him to leave me alone. To give me some space. To stop trying to break into my magically protected closet and poke through my stuff, for criminy sakes !
“Reagan, part of protecting you is to protect you from yourself. I just want to know what it is you are hiding,” he’d said.
I’d tried to punch him, but he was danged fast. Instead, I’d said, “Fat chance,” slammed the door in his face, locked it, and pretended I didn’t hear him unlock it immediately after. Then chuckled darkly.
That vampire was tap-dancing on my last nerve.
What was nuts was that his actions were not standard operating procedure for vampires. I’d asked around. Even people who were bonded, which basically meant they shared a special link with a vampire, didn’t get this kind of attentiveness.
The only thing I could figure was that Darius was trying to put me in a gilded cage. He knew what I was, which meant he also knew I was his meal ticket to becoming the most powerful vampire in the world. He probably thought all the help and gifts would keep me happy, which would keep me put.
He didn’t know me very well.
If he made a move on me, I’d kill him. I would probably need help, because he was old as hades, and an exceptional adversary, but I had backup. Callie and Dizzy, two high-powered mages, had become my family. They also knew my past, they’d helped hide me when I was a baby, and they knew vampires were not to be trusted. The three of us could get me out of most any bind.
Hopefully. That theory had yet to be tested.
I rubbed my forehead as I stared into the fridge. It had been a long, kind of terrible, day. I took out some high-quality cheese, salami, and grapes. Whoever did the shopping got only the best, and clearly the most expensive, stuff. Not like I could taste the difference. My magic was powerful, but my palate was weak.
From the equally stocked pantry, I grabbed some fresh French bread. After I’d picked out a bottle of wine, a knock sounded on the door.
It was either the cops or Mikey wanting to know what was going on. Maybe even Mince looking to gossip.
I set the full plate onto the counter, flicked on the hall light so I didn’t seem weird, and answered the door.
My stomach flipped over and tingles spread across my skin.
Stupid, handsome vampire.
Darius stood at my door in a black button-up shirt that hugged his muscular chest and pulled taut across his broad shoulders. The vee of his upper body led down into trim hips encircled by a black leather belt, holding up formfitting jeans that probably cost as much as some people’s rent.
When dealing with normal people for days at a time, I always forgot how incredibly hot Darius was, and how incredibly powerful. He moved with a raw magnetism that entranced the eye. It was probably because I’d taken blood from him once, but his proximity made my body vibrate in worrying ways. If I didn’t keep my wits, I was liable to reach out and run my hand up that bumpy torso, or reach around and grab that perfect ass.
Great googly-moogly, I needed to stay away from this vampire. He was decadent sin in a mouth-watering wrapper.
“What’s up?” I asked, blocking the doorway.
His eyes roamed my face. “Your eyebrows have gone missing again.”
“You’ve always excelled at observation.” Just as I, apparently, excelled at losing my eyebrows.
“Yes. I heard about the aswang and, more importantly, Garret allegedly saving your life.” He paused, watching my reaction. I was sure he saw what he was looking for. That sore spot might not go away for a while. “I thought you might like some company.”
Who was he in contact with at the MLE office, I wondered?
“No. I’m okay,” I said. “Thanks, though. I know I’ve said this before, a few times, but could you please tell…whoever it is that I can do my own shopping and laundry? I’d rather not have someone in here when I’m gone.” There. That was a nice-guy approach. I hadn’t tr ied that one yet, maybe.
“Don’t be absurd,” he scoffed. “Only simpletons perform those duties for themselves. Clear the way. I’ll make you dinner.”
Nice-guy approach was out. I didn’t much like saying please to him anyway.
He waited for a moment, clearly thinking I would move of my own volition.
“Seriously, Darius, I’m good,” I said, staying firmly rooted in the doorway. “I’ve already pulled out some stuff for dinner.” I pushed the door closed a little more. “Thanks for checking up on me, kinda, but I’ve handled much worse. As you know.”
“Come now. Don’t be obtuse.” Darius moved faster than thought. One moment he was in the doorway, and the next I was staring at the void of my front porch.
“That’s breaking and entering,” I said lamely, shutting the door.
When I entered the kitchen, he was swapping out the wine for a more expensive bottle. The things I’d taken out had already been put away.
“Go and take a bath,” he instructed as he rolled up his sleeves, exposing toned forearms. “Relax. Take your time. Dinner will be ready when you return. Would you like a glass of wine to take in with you?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but that did sound good. It wasn’t like I’d be able to get him out of my house, anyway. He’d be making dinner whether I wanted him to or not, and I’d eat it, because he was an excellent cook and I was really hungry.
“Snack?” I asked, giving in.
“Of course. I’ll bring something in.”