Chapter 14
There were three of them up on Grayson’s roof tonight.
Oliver lounged against the parapet, Grayson crouched on his usual seat—a large slab of stone pillar—and Saul was seated on another half a pillar that was a kind of stool of sorts.
And they were all drinking aged single malt whiskey, Oliver’s second bottle. Not that he cared. This case would probably see them go through a whole crate together.
It was a beautiful, clear evening, the setting sun casting long shadows over the city.
Even East Motham was free of its usual smog, and you could see right out across to the valley.
The glow of fall hung in the air, the trees a mixture of gold and russet, just before their leaves drifted to the ground.
And yes, there was a hint of melancholy in the air as if winter waited in the shadows.
Oliver was good at detecting melancholy.
Gods forbid, had he become a grumpy old man whose glass was always half empty. No, he’d been a miserable bastard for years, he decided. Nothing had changed there. He took another mouthful of whiskey and tried to savor it this time.
His eyes strayed past the city walls to the lush verdant countryside that belonged to valley humans. Clare was out there right now, in Tween. He tried not to feel peeved that she hadn’t called him all day.
Damn it, he was in charge of the case, she should keep him informed.
Should he call her, he wondered?
“You’re quiet,” Grayson said.
“Pondering the case.” That was true at least. He left out any mention of Clare. No one would ever know what happened the night of the PD dinner. He would never mention a word of it, and he trusted she wouldn’t either.
As if reading Oliver’s thoughts, Saul said, “Heard from Clare?”
He shrugged. “Not as yet.”
“Me neither,” Saul said. “Which I can only guess means she hasn’t found out a lot. Like I said, Tween will close ranks.”
Oliver swirled the amber liquid in his glass. Why hadn’t Clare reported back? He’d given her his damn cell number. He couldn’t help the nagging sense that she was leaving him hanging on purpose.
It felt like a they were in a power struggle, invisible to everyone except him and her.
“You guys staying for dinner?” Grayson asked. “It’s my turn to cook tonight. I’m barbecuing burgers up here, seeing as it’s a nice night.”
Saul shook his head. “I’m taking Harriet and the kids out for pizza.”
Grayson cocked his head at Oliver.
“Kind offer, but I’m going back to the station for a bit.”
“Still a workaholic.”
“I have no family to hamper such tendencies.” Oliver tried to make it sound light, but truth was, it was beginning to really get to him.
Though he was loath to admit it, Clare catapulting back into his life had made him yearn for something he could never have.
Being around these guys with their happy domesticated lives was showing him what he had missed out on.
Truth was, the years when he should have been putting down roots, having kids even, had been taken up with wild and destructive behaviors.
And by the time he’d crawled out of the haze of bloodlust and devastation, it was like he’d burned his bridges, missed the chance to settle down and start a family.
And yet that was illogical, because in a real sense, time had no such meaning to a vampire.
He was as potent, as able to procreate at 300, 400, 600 years old. And beyond.
What was missing was the ability to love, to care for another being, and to be cared for in return.
When death and devastation had been burned onto the back of your retinas, you learned early that love could be stolen from you in the most violent and heinous of ways.
You learned that you could never trust anyone, least of all a human.
Which was why he had taken his revenge, plundering young humans for over a century.
Except it never worked, it never healed the wounds.
You’ve made amends, you’ve given back to society. Solved thousands of crimes over the past hundred years. For fuck’s sake man, give yourself a break.
“I’m probably not the best company tonight, I would hate to spoil the vibe,” he said as he downed the last drops of his whiskey. “I’ll see myself out.”
“I’ll leave with you,” Saul said. After farewelling Grayson, they met Maisie on the stairs, carrying the uncooked burgers and buns on a tray.
“Oh,” she pouted, “you’re leaving already. Grayson made extra, in case we had guests.”
They both muttered their apologies. “Never mind.” She beamed. “Bring Harriet over and the kids next time Saul, haven’t seen them for ages.” She turned and grinned cheekily at Oliver. “And you, Mr Bachelor boy, we need to find you a nice partner.”
Oliver let out a bark of a laugh. “Firstly, I am not a boy. And secondly, no one would take me on.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I can think of one human who might.”
He raised a brow, heat sneaking below his collar.
“Clare Doyle.” Maisie winked. “Grayson and I always reckoned there was a spark between you two.”
The heat spread under his beard. He sensed Saul’s curious red eyes on him. What was he now, a fucking callow youth, blushing when someone called him on having a crush? He shrugged. “Humans and vampires are historically not a good mix.”
“You don’t deny it then?” Maisie wheedled.
“Ha, dream on, Ms Matchmaker.”
With that, he took the stairs, quickly farewelling Saul at the door and heading toward his own place higher up the hill.
He’d only got a few steps when his phone rang.
He grabbed it hastily from his pocket, pleasure rippling through him when Clare’s name flashed on the screen.
Merely excitement about the case, he told himself. Nothing more.
“Hi Clare.”
Hi.” She sounded tired.
“Are you still in Tween?”
No, I’ve just driven through the city gates.”
“Anything to report?”
“Yes, a few things of interest.” She paused. “Can you talk now?”
“Sure, I’ve just left Grayson’s place.”
“Did I miss a team meeting?”
“No. No. Just having a drink with him and Saul.”
“Is Saul still with you?”
“No, he’s gone home.” He hesitated. “I’m on my way back to my place—maybe we could meet somewhere. Discuss your findings.”
She hesitated. “We can discuss it now on the phone and follow up tomorrow at work.”
“As you wish.” He swallowed the sour taste of disappointment.
Suddenly, she amended. “Actually, I’m not far from The Hole In The Wall District. We could maybe meet in in a bar somewhere. Briefly.”
Damn his stupid heart, it leaped for fucking joy. “Have you eaten?”
“No, and to be honest, I’m starving.”
“Then, er, why not meet me at The Right Bite. We can grab a quick meal while we talk.”
“Oh—sure, why not. It’ll take me about ten minutes to get there and find a park.”
“Fine, I’ll see you there.”
As he pocketed his phone, Oliver started to walk more briskly. It occurred to him there was an extra lightness in his step, a quickening of his pulse.
And a dumb-ass smile on his face.
His palms were sweating, he realized, as he sat at a corner table at the busy little eatery.
Where was she? No. He would not check his watch again.
He knew he’d moved fast, but still, she should be here by now.
He calmed himself by slowing his breathing, the technique he used in meditation each day. Stared at the menu without seeing. And then, sensing a shadow fall on the page, he looked up to see her standing there, tired and pale-faced.
Fighting off a powerful urge to put his arms around her, he stood and waved a hand, gesturing for her to sit. “You look shattered.”
“Thanks.” Her tone held light sarcasm.
They sat, and the waitress came over and took their drinks and food order, which gave Oliver time to compose himself.
When the waitress left, he asked, “So how did it go?”
“A few interesting things have cropped up.”
He listened intently while she talked, his eyebrows raising when she told him that both Edward and Natalie had given blood at Tween Clinic on a regular basis.
“Mrs. Bradshaw said that Edward had an elite blood type, AOx positive. And then the Spriggs told me the same about Natalie. AOx positive blood.”
Oliver tried not to register that her excitement was making her more beautiful, and that it was fucking distracting.
“So afterward, I did checks on the clinic. It’s owned by the Jordaks and run by Mayor Jordak’s youngest son, Quentin. He’s an unpleasant piece of work, that one. He’s been embroiled in a number of assault cases, the most recent involving the human owner of the Westerly Bookshop.”
“Ah, right, I remember. That incident happened while I was in Selig.”
“Yep. The case put up against him by Motham police was blocked and it never went to trial.” She gave a little shrug. “Not surprising, since humans control so much of the infrastructure still in Motham. They wield ultimate power.”
“Did you try to speak to anyone at the clinic?”
“I tried to. I went to the reception and asked to speak to Quentin. He apparently wasn’t available, so I went to the Tween library and did some research on the blood type.
Apparently AOx blood has only been discovered in the last few years, and only been found in a small cluster of Tween residents so far.
It’s being studied for its miraculous healing and longevity properties. ”
Oliver rubbed his beard. “How interesting.”
“Except that would hardly make it interesting to the Kominskys, seeing as vampires live forever,” she mused.
“Another thing that puzzles me is, I can’t imagine the Jordaks would ever allow human blood to fall into vampire clutches.
Quentin is probably the most rabidly anti-monster of the whole family. ”
“Agreed, it would be strange,” Oliver responded. “But so is the fact that humans are disappearing into thin air.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Is that a vampire trait sir, abducting humans into the ether?”
“Never before this.”
“Just disappearing into the ether themselves, then?”
He looked at her sharply. Was this an innocent comment or a dig at him?