Chapter 40
Two hours later, the sun had set, and the fang ceremony was in full swing.
Bodies were writhing, tension pooling, vamps and familiars alike grinding against one another on the dance floor as we marched steadily towards the evening’s prescheduled activities, where Carmen would bite Fawzy and we’d draw the anti-vampers out of the woodwork.
I’d been a good little FBI helper and told the agents about my suspicions, and the dots I connected after witnessing the envelope change hands.
To which Zhou promptly attempted to punch holes in my theory and point out the lack of proof, including zero connection to epinephrine or the former nurse who was responsible for restarting a familiar’s heart—Henry Day.
I bit my tongue and accepted the criticism, the points Zhou made were valid.
If the man from the apothecary’s name had been Henry instead of Hank Something-or-other, I might have had more sway.
Either way, I wasn’t going to let Zhou’s critique deter me, so my first stop was the surveillance room where I rewound the security footage to identify the apothecary event staff and circulated them.
Though I’d been warned to keep an open mind, to assume the suspects were innocent until proven guilty, I committed each of the four faces to memory.
And where they stored their phones.
Stationed in vehicles Zhou, Kaatz, and Thruppy were all given live feeds of the security footage, ready to intercept if Fawzy was taken beyond the fang ceremony threshold.
Either we needed indisputable evidence tying whoever was responsible for the murders to the deaths of the familiars, or to force Fawzy to a secondary location, with probable cause, in order for the sting operation to gather sufficient evidence to determine guilt.
The only problem with that was the vamp-hunters were likely to jab her full of epinephrine the second they got her into a vehicle.
Which is where part one of Operation Divide and Conquer came in. My goal was to even the playing field, and lower the number of targets on Fawzy’s back, while drawing the ringleader out into the open.
The plan didn’t involve anything against the law, really. But that ultimately depended on how much the suspects fought back. Worst case scenario, I “accidentally” locked someone innocent in a room for an hour or two and damaged their phones. Nothing sinister.
“I don’t like the look on your face.” The music was so loud, bass pumping, Jack’s lips were pressed against my ear and he still had to shout, “It looks like you’re planning something.”
“I’m just dancing.” And waiting, but with the pressure of my passenger on my diaphragm, and my bladder, I didn’t feel like I was going to last much longer. “What’s the quickest route to the restroom?”
“Don’t seek them out. Your job is to observe. Report back. That’s it.”
“I won’t seek them out.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
And it was the truth, because they were going to seek me.
?
“You’re sure about this, darling?”
“Yes.” Looking at our reflection in the restroom mirror, I balled my hands into fists. “Do it.”
“Always so defiant. I’d prefer if you found pleasure from my bite.”
“If you don’t want to do this, Carmen, I can figure something else out, I just—"
Carmen sunk her teeth into my neck.
?
The bite was messier than I’d planned. Carmen didn’t puncture deep, or near any of the vital arteries, but the wound sure took its time to close, leaving a couple not-so-faded streaks in its wake. Part of the plan required getting attention, and, well, this would get it.
Steering clear of Jack and Todd, I made a few passes of the dance floor trying to observe one of the four suspects from the apothecary.
It didn’t take long to find one. The suspect, a woman in her mid-thirties, was scowling—cross my heart, scowling—at the room as she tried to relight one of the candles blown out by the wind.
If she was an anti-vamper she wasn’t being very subtle.
Taking a circuitous route, I walked past to ensure she got a semi-obscured look at my bite mark before promptly heading down stairs.
There was a chance it wouldn’t work. That I had gotten it all wrong, and the woman was indeed just an ex-familiar apothecary worker who helped at events. But I’d tossed my chum in the water, now I had to wait for the sharks to bite.
It didn’t take long.
The woman slipped down the stairs, mouth agape, as I moved to close one of the many doors to nowhere.
“Oh, excuse me.” I covered my neck to hide the bite mark and the woman paused her descent. “Sorry, do you know where they keep the bandages?”
“You hurt your neck?” Was all she said from her place on the stairs.
“You could say that.” I took another couple steps down the hall and opened the next door. “Anyway, I’m sure I’ll find a bandage down here somewhere.”
Approaching me in a rush, she pushed my hand away to look at my neck. “That’s not good. You need attention right away.”
“I’ll be fine, I just need to cover it up.” I threw in a disarming smile. “Apparently, it’s a big no-no to get bitten tonight. The only biting is supposed to be part of the fang ceremony, but someone got a little carried away.”
The women stepped closer. “There’s no bandages in there.”
Creepy. “So, you know where they are?”
“I’ve got some in my car.” Clearly, the woman was not used to thinking on her feet because she was practically telling me to come get some candy out of her van.
“Oh, that’s alright, events like this always have a first aid kit.”
The woman tried to step in my path. “It’s no trouble.”
“No, no, that’s okay. I’ll be fine.” Bass thundering overhead, I brushed past the woman, intentionally bumping into her as I entered one of the closed rooms. “Don’t worry about me.”
Closing the door behind me, I laid two brooms in a crisscross on the floor, and grinned.
I’d pickpocketed her phone. My grin widened as I took in her lock screen.
It was a three-by-three grid of dots. All I needed to do was swipe the correct pattern.
And what do you know? There was a greasy smudge mark connecting each of the three lines in a zig-zag.
Bingo.
Easiest phone hack ever.
I did a quick check for any incriminating evidence like text messages or photos relating to anti-vamp activity, but the closest I got was finding a group chat at the top of her inbox, which was completely empty. Like messages were frequently sent. But just as frequently deleted.
The group chat’s name? Events Team.
The door creaked open, and the woman’s head popped in. “Hey, did you—”
Catching sight of her phone in my hands, the woman lunged towards me.
Though she didn’t get very far, crashing over the tripping hazard I’d laid between us.
So, as she tripped over a couple of brooms and her own feet, I dodged her flailing limbs and exited the closet, locking the door behind me. Key in hand.
One down. Three to go.