My gaze flickered to the knife still sticking straight out from the bookcase and wondered if I’d be able to retrieve it and jam it into Cordova’s smug face before he removed my head from my body. Ultimately deciding that the odds weren’t in my favor, I instead settled for something a bit more tactful and replied, “I’m... exploring the possibilities.”
Other than a small sound in the back his throat, he made no other comment in regards to my blatantly evasive answer. “Very well. You had best get back to work then.”
There was no mistaking his dismissal, and both the wolf and I bristled at the none too subtle blow-off.
“I’m not done talking to you yet. I still don’t believe that you didn’t have something to do with the attack on Ben Simpson.”
Every hair on the back of my neck stood on end when he froze mid-step. Moving with the slowness that only the undead can possess, he turned to look at me over his shoulder, only one cold, green eye visible.
“We are done.” His words, though simple enough, chilled me to the bone as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head.
I’d had every intention of laying into Cordova over his lax security measures and the murder of Ben Simpson, but the deadly presence lurking beneath his polished facade had me scampering for the door like a frightened pup. If anyone ever asks I will outright deny it, but I hightailed it out of there as if the hounds of hell were snapping at my heels and didn’t allow myself to breathe easy until I was safely ensconced in the SUV with several blocks between me and Asylum.
“That is one scary mother fucker.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
RECOGNIZING THE WHITE and green work truck parked in the small lot behind the Chinese restaurant, I felt my lips curve into a smile as I wedged the SUV in between Alyssa’s shiny new Audi and a beat up Toyota truck. Mounting the narrow stairs leading up to Alyssa’s supe clinic, I caught the first strains of the melodic brogue that could sound both grandfatherly and lascivious, usually within the span of a couple seconds.
I’d met Dermot O’Malley at the clinic the previous fall and taken a shine to the perverted leprechaun. As the owner of a pest control service dealing in beasties of a more supernatural nature, he was regularly hired to clear out pixie nests and hell spider webs. So I was unsurprised to see him seated on the edge of the exam table with his shirt sleeve rolled up to reveal a red and swollen hand covered in oozing blisters.
Alyssa was perched on a padded stool on wheels, twisting and turning his hand this way and that to gauge the severity of his reaction to the poisonous pixie bite.
“You’re a damn fool, Dermot O’Malley,” she muttered, though her affection shone through the irritation.
“Get yourself into some trouble with a pixie nest again?” I asked, eyeing the red and puffy hand being prodded by Alyssa, none too gently if his low oath was anything to go by.
“Aye. Damn wee buggers got me good,” he replied, trying to hide his discomfort behind a wide smile.
Sliding into an empty seat, I asked, “Don’t you wear gloves?”
“No. He doesn’t. Even though I’ve told him to at least a dozen times,” Alyssa growled before he could answer. “If I didn’t know how painful the bites were, I’d almost swear he does it on purpose.”
“And deny meself the pleasure of your bonny company?” he asked, turning glittering eyes on Alyssa.
Despite her best efforts she gave him a small smile as twin spots of color illuminated her cheeks.
“And what about you, lassie? What brings you to visit our fair doctor?”
“I just stopped by to have the dressing changed on my bite.”
I caught the shadow of surprise that crossed Alyssa’s face at my words, but she remained silent for the moment.
“Did ye tumble into a pixie nest too?” Dermot asked, raising bushy red brows in question.
“No, though I kinda wish I had,” I replied, rubbing my shoulder, the skin and muscles beneath still tender where the vamp had torn into me. It itched something terrible too. “A vamp got me,” I added at his inquiring look.
I didn’t think the big furry caterpillars masquerading as Dermot’s eyebrows could rise any higher up his broad forehead, but I was proven wrong when they leapt almost all the way up to his hairline.
“How did you get on the wrong side of a bloodsucker?”
“Cordova’s got me looking into the vamp murders.”
Eyes widening at the mention of Cordova’s name, he asked “Doing favors for the Shepherd are ye?”
“Just trying to keep the lights on,” I answered while shaking my head. For some reason I felt compelled to make sure the craggy-faced fae knew I wasn’t happily consorting with the undead.
Dermot nodded at my answer, but continued to cast skeptical looks in my direction as Alyssa went about cleaning his wounded hand and applying a generous smear of a thick, pale green ointment that smelled of lavender and peppermint.
Sensing something in Dermot’s guarded expression and the stiff set of his shoulders, I asked, “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the attacks would you?”
“Och no, and very glad of it too. I’ve no interest in the workings of vampires and wolves. And I’d advise ye to do the same.”
“That’s unavoidable, I’m afraid.”
“Aye?”
“Aye,” I replied, forcing a smile.
“Vamps are nothing but trouble, lassie,” he said, lifting his gaze from where Alyssa was wrapping a clean bandage around his hand to pin me with an intent look. “You’d do well to stay away.”
“That’s probably true, but I’ve got to eat. Besides, it’s not just the vamps that are involved; the weres are caught up in all this too. They’ve lost people on both sides now.”
“And you feel ye owe it to them to figure out the culprits?”
“I guess so, though I’ll be damned if I know why. I’ve as little to do with Hank and his pack as Cordova and his cronies,” I said, feeling my brows knit together as I pulled at a stray thread on the hem of my shirt. “But someone is out there hurting people,
killing
people. It shouldn’t matter if the victim’s a vamp or a were, should it?”
When Dermot didn’t answer at first, I glanced back up at him and was surprised to see both him and Alyssa regarding me with matching expressions of bewilderment. As welcoming as they had both been to me, I got the impression that the fae weren’t always so accepting of other supes.
“I suppose you’re right, lassie.”
“I mean, what if it was one of the fae that had been attacked? Wouldn’t you want someone to find out who did it and bring them to justice?”
“Oh aye, I would. But the fae wouldna need help for that,” Dermot replied, the hard edge to his voice as surprising as the sour tilt of his lips.
“What do you mean?” I asked, abandoning the loose thread.
“Never you mind,” he said and then turned to Alyssa. “Am I clear, Doc?”
Pushing a lock of hair back behind her ear, she nodded and scooted her stool back out of the way as the stocky leprechaun hopped down from the exam table. Experimentally flexing the fingers of his bandaged hand, Dermot nodded and retrieved his baseball cap from where it sat on the table. Wrestling it down over his thick hair, he made sure his cap was straight, and then approached me, his expression once again serious.
“Be careful, lassie. Vamps and weres have a way of tangling others up in their troubles. Mind you dinne get caught.” Giving my shoulder a squeeze on the way by, he strode out, his work boots stomping heavily down the stairs.
When his steps had faded away I turned back to Alyssa and asked, “What was that about?”
“Some very sound advice.”
I was surprised by her reply, and it took me a moment to find my tongue. “You agree with him?”
For a long while she remained silent as she cleared up the used swabs and gauze from treating Dermot’s hand. Finally she paused in front of me as she screwed the lid back on the lavender and peppermint scented salve. “It’s different for fae. We rarely trust outsiders.”
“You trust me,” I countered with a smile.
“That’s... different,” she replied, turning away to gather the last of the trash.
I had a good idea of what made me an exception to the rule, but as glad as I was of the fact she’d befriended me because of my connection with Darius, I still felt a reflexive flicker of offense.
“So, what, you just ignore vamps and weres killing each other as long as a fae doesn’t get hurt?”
“Essentially, yes,” she replied with a subtle shrug of her shoulders. “It’s not our concern.”
“How can you say that?” I asked as the warmth of anger spread through my chest. “You’re a doctor!”
I watched her move across the room to put the jar of ointment back in one of the cabinets, setting it down beside a dozen other glass jars containing mysterious concoctions and salves. Turning to face me, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the edge of the counter. “Vampires and weres have been killing each other, and themselves, for centuries. We’ve tried to intervene in the past, always with a great cost of life on all sides. It is our belief that their disagreements are their own. All I can do is patch them up when they cross my threshold and hope they won’t come back in a body bag.”
“This isn’t just a disagreement. Someone is killing people, and as far as I can tell, with no reason.”
“There’s always a reason,” she said, maintaining eye contact with me for several heartbeats. “Now, let me take a look at that shoulder.”
Frowning at the cryptic nature of fae, I slipped out of my jacket and peeled off my t-shirt before taking Dermot’s vacated seat on the exam table. Still, I couldn’t shake off the traces of anger that forced me to sit ramrod straight and clench my hands where they lay atop my thighs.
My tense posture didn’t go unnoticed, and after a moment, Alyssa asked, “What’s wrong, Riley? You didn’t seem this bothered the last time I saw you.”
“I don’t know, it feels different now. I guess I’ve had time to think about it all since then.”
“And?” she prompted, using a gentle touch to peel away the tape holding the bulky gauze pad in place.
“One of the victims, he was married to his Day Servant. They loved each other.”
The subtle arch of her brows told me she was as surprised by the revelation as I’d been.
“I had heard that was becoming more common, and I suppose it makes sense; the bond between a vampire and their Day Servant is very strong.”
“It was more than that,” I said, willing her to understand the emotions I didn’t quite comprehend myself. “She was so heartbroken. It was like whoever murdered him killed a part of her too.”
Pausing in her actions, she looked at me with soft violet eyes. “Surely, you’ve felt that way when you’ve lost a loved one.” Alyssa knew some of my history, though not all the depressing and bloody details, but enough for her to know that she was hitting close to home.
A lump of emotion rose in my throat at her words, and it took a great deal of effort to push it back down as I recalled the cold emptiness I had felt each time I’d lost someone. My mom had been the first, disappearing like a thief in the night on Christmas Eve when I was six. My dad came next, dying in combat while deployed in Bosnia when I was eleven. I’d hoped that would be the end of my loss, for a while at least, but fate was a cruel bitch and seemed to be gunning for me. Five years later I experienced loss again when my grandfather died in a car accident after suffering a heart attack. The death of my grandmother had been the final straw, and as I’d said goodbye to her cancer stricken body I’d sworn that I’d never let anyone get that close again. I didn’t think I could survive having another piece of my heart torn away.
But people are like a disease, they always find a way in.
“I have,” I replied, my words coming out as brittle as fractured glass.
“And yet it surprises you?”
“What does?” I asked, growing tired of playing twenty questions. It hadn’t taken long after meeting Alyssa to learn that the fae rarely said anything in three words if they could use fifty. It made conversations with the succubus tiring at times.
“That vampires could love.”
“I guess not,” I admitted. “I thought they were all just a bunch of power hungry douches who liked to prey on the weak.”
The loudness of Alyssa’s laughter startled me and brought an embarrassed flush to my cheeks. “Not all vampires are monsters. It’s the same with weres, as you know.”
“Some of them are though. I mean come on, do you really think Cordova gave Chrismer flowers and chocolates for Valentine’s Day?”
“Monsters hide everywhere, Riley.”
I was still mulling over her words when she let out a grunt of consternation as she palpated the skin around the vamp bite on my shoulder. Never a comforting sound coming from mechanics, lawyers, or medical professionals, I turned an inquisitive eye towards her.
“Everything okay?”
“It’s the strangest thing,” she mused more to herself than me. “You should be completely healed by now. The attack was, what, 30 hours ago? But you’ve barely healed at all.”