“Ah, I see. Your mother?”
Jackie sniffed and took a breath. “Yes, my mother. Fucking stepdad tortured her. Sucked the life out of her until there was nothing but an empty shell, too useless to do anything except crawl into the tub and die.” She wiped at the tear that spilled down her cheek. “I didn’t do a fucking thing. He just walked away and never looked back.”
“I’m not like that though, Jackie. I’m one of the good guys. I have a great deal of respect for you. I’d never hurt you.”
The tears kept falling. The aware part of her psyche, buried under that pulsing blue light, finally threw up her hands in disgust. “I know. You are a good man, but you’d never want a stone-cold bitch like me. God, I’m crying. I’m sorry.”
Nick reached out and took her hands in his. “No, crying is just fine. You probably need to shed a few tears.” Jackie nodded at him and blinked at the faucet that had turned on inside her head somewhere. “Maybe after lunch we can go back to my place. I’m sure I could think of ways to make you feel better about yourself.”
She nodded. Yeah, that sounded like a wonderful plan. That lean, swimmer’s body curled up around her, hands roaming over her in a long, sweet caress. Heat began to swim through her body. “I’d like that, Nick, but you’re a suspect still. Really, we should wait.”
“For what, Jackie? Do you really think I’m a suspect? Can’t you tell I’m one of the good ones? I’d like the chance to show you.”
She nodded. “Okay. I’d like to be with you, Nick. I need it.”
“Jackie, look out the doors there, onto the deck.”
“Huh?”
“Look out into the sunshine. Look now.”
Jackie turned and stared out beyond the French doors, staring blissfully at nothing. Then a cool breeze came wafting in, blowing right through her like she was nothing more than a gauzy, billowing curtain. Nick’s presence pulled out, leaving a painful, hollow emptiness inside. She looked back to find Nick putting the contacts back into his eyes, and the reality of what had just happened hit her like a brick to the head.
“You . . . you . . .” she spluttered, fighting against the anger constricting her throat, at the utter, mortifying embarrassment that flushed into her face. “What the fuck did you do?”
Nick let out a deep breath. “If I had been Drake, you would’ve come back to my place, and you’d be dead.” He leaned forward, hands splayed out on the tablecloth, his voice a sharp whisper. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to be quite so forthcoming, but do you see now, Jackie? How easy it is to have your will just swept away? And Drake is far more powerful than I. He’s been feeding and has the power of the dead on his side.”
She heard his words, but Jackie still floundered around in her head over what had come out of her mouth. How could she have said all that? To a complete stranger! She turned and looked out the window, unable to face Nick. “You had no right to do that. It was . . .”
“A violation? Emotional rape?” Nick answered, and Jackie could only nod in agreement. “I apologize. Truly. I did not really expect anything so personal, but I had little choice left other than showing you what you are up against. I need you to believe just how dangerous this is. He is not your typical gun-wielding psychopath.”
“You’ve made your point,” she said in a shaky voice, wiping away the tears that stained her cheeks. Yet it changed nothing. It couldn’t. “But I’m still on this case, and now I’ve got even more incentive to get him. Nobody should be allowed to do this kind of . . . thing.” His hand lightly touched her arm, and Jackie found herself pulling reflexively away.
“I’m sorry, Jackie. Honestly.”
She waved him off, more angry at herself for being so easily drawn in, so utterly defenseless against whatever it was he had done to her. “No. Yes, that’s fine. No, actually,” she said, slapping her hands down on the table, “it’s not fine. You didn’t have to go crawling around in there to make your point. You could have stopped.”
Nick leaned back against the seat. “That’s the thing though, Jackie. I didn’t do any crawling. I merely prompted. I didn’t make you say any of that. You needed to see what Drake is capable of. If I had stopped, I don’t think you would have really understood how defenseless you are against him.”
Defenseless. The word squirmed in her gut like a ravenous worm. “That’s . . . that’s not for you . . .” Jackie stopped and took a drink of water. It took tremendous force of will to keep her hand from shaking. “You had no business digging . . . around in there.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and then leaned forward again, elbows on the table, hands folded together. “There was no digging, Jackie. This power, it just drops all the barriers. I wouldn’t . . . I’m not like that.”
“Like what? Not like all the other goddamn vampires out there?”
He winced. “No. I don’t use this curse to take advantage of anyone. It’s not a power meant for the living.”
Laurel’s words echoed in her head.
They felt like they were dead
. How did you stop someone who could just turn your brain to mush with a single look? Nick could just as easily have asked for her gun, and Jackie knew without a doubt she would have handed it to him without thinking twice. For the first time, some serious doubt began to creep into her head.
“Is there any way to avoid being affected by it?”
“Don’t look him in the eye.”
Jackie rolled hers, shaking her head. “Yeah, no shit, but I mean—”
“Other than Shelby and I, no. Not that I’ve ever seen.”
Figured. “You need to promise me to never, ever do that again.” She had no way of knowing how much he had seen, what sort of crazy bitch he must have thought she was. Part of her wanted to ask, but Jackie didn’t really want to know the answers either.
He nodded. “You have my word. For the record though, I didn’t see—”
“No.” She held up a hand to him. “Don’t. I told you to show me, and I believe you now, but it doesn’t change anything. There’s still a killer out there, and it’s my job to stop him.”
The smile he gave had a measure of sadness. “I expected as much. You know more about us than any cop before. I hope it helps.”
Her cell phone rang, and Jackie flinched at the sudden noise.
And you know more about me than anyone has a right to.
“Rutledge.”
“We got an interesting call a few minutes ago about your vampire.”
“A break, I hope?”
My vampire. This case is going to mark me for the rest of my life.
“Maybe. County General just called. Apparently, they have a victim in their emergency room who claims a woman attacked him and drank his blood.”
“Shit. Thanks. We’ll check it out.” Jackie clicked off and dialed Laurel’s number. A goddamn woman. That could mean only one person. Shelby Fontaine. Laurel’s phone went to voice mail, and Jackie reached for her jacket just as Mia brought out two steaming plates full of seafood pasta. “Come on. You’re coming with me, Nick.”
“Where are we going?”
“Hospital. Apparently, a woman attacked someone and drank his blood, and Laurel is out with Shelby somewhere not answering her phone.” Laurel’s angry voice echoed in her head.
Let someone else stop him. He’s going to kill you!
The jaws of panic began to gnaw on her gut.
“Ah,” was all he said and grabbed his own jacket.
“If anything has happened to her, your ass is mine, Anderson.”
“Nicholas?” Mia stood with the two plates in her hands, a look of chagrin and confusion on her face.
“Sorry, Mia,” Nick said and stood to kiss her on the cheek. “I’ll explain later.”
Jackie headed for the door without looking back.
Chapter 26
Nick stepped into an empty patient room at the end of the hall, the first available spot away from Jackie, who was asking a lot of implicating questions at the moment with Shelby’s victim. He knew it would turn to trouble. Blood always did. Shelby’s phone rang half a dozen times again before going to voice mail.
“Shel, you better watch your ass if you get this message before you’re being checked into the county jail, and have Ms. Carpenter call Jackie so I can get her foot out of my ass. You’re really pissing me off now with whatever the hell it is you’re trying to pull. I showed her a while ago. She believes, but she isn’t going to stop. I’ve got no choice but to try to use their help, and no thanks to you, I’m guessing. Just watch yourself, please.” The last thing he wanted was for Shelby to get shot up, but she had blood in her for the moment, which would help her out if shit hit the fan.
He dialed the office, and Cyn picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Cyn, has Shel checked in with you?”
“Hi, Nick. Nope, haven’t heard a word. Reggie let me know earlier that the ghosts were out and about over there where you’ve been hunting. Everything okay? You sound stressed.”
“I’m at County General at the moment.”
“What?” Her voice jumped an octave. “You okay? Did you get hurt? You didn’t find—”
“Whoa, slow down. I’m fine for now, but I might be spending a night in jail here if Shelby doesn’t make her whereabouts known pretty quick.”
“Jail?” Cyn sounded more worried about that than any trip to the hospital. “Should I be calling Dewey?”
“Wouldn’t hurt. Just in case I need him.”
“Okay, I’ll do that now. Be careful, Nick. That FBI woman has a lot of dark energy around her.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that one out. Take care, Cyn.”
Drawing Jackie in had shown him that clearly enough. Something awful had happened to her in the past that still tormented her. Scary thing was she had peeled open like a ripe banana, putty in his hands. The tough exterior was all that was keeping that woman together. She was a survivor, and Nick certainly related to that. More so, she was terrified of people seeing what she was like underneath, and Nick knew all too well what that was like. He had been living a veiled existence for over a century now, and he knew the effects it had on one’s soul.
Nick took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting that doorway to the other side open just a crack, and winced at the sharp, icy wind that sucked at him. “Reggie! Get over here. Now, please.” It didn’t matter how loudly or softly he called. Reggie always heard.
A moment later, Reggie dropped out of the ceiling. “Hey, boss. Something’s going down. I’ve felt Drake, and he’s got ghosts freaking out all over the place.”
“Ghosts. Why are they worried about him?”
Reggie shrugged. “Don’t know. It’s like fish darting away from rocks dropping in the pond. I had a bead on him, but when the boss calls . . .”
“Damn. My luck, of course. Okay, get back out there and see if you can find him. If you see Shelby, let her know the cops may be out in force to get her unless she shows her face real soon.”
“They worried about her and that agent girl?”
“You’ve seen them?”
Reggie smiled. “Yeah, Shelby was flying out of town with her clutched on to the back of the cycle. Took her up to that park north of town that looks out on the lake, can’t think of the name.”
“You followed them?”
“Hey, easy for me, and I was, you know, curious.” He laughed. “I wouldn’t worry too much ’bout them, boss, if you know what I mean.”
Nick ran a hand through his bristled, short hair. “Christ. What is she thinking?”
Reggie gave Nick a wistful smile. “How’d you feel about finding someone who realized what you were and didn’t run screaming in the other direction? Or is it the girl-girl thing that’s crimpin’ your dick?”
Nick glared at Reggie’s ghostly right hand. “Reg! You know Shelby and I—”
“Nick Anderson!” It was Jackie’s voice, yelling for him outside the room.
“See ya, boss. Got things to do.” Reggie vanished into the floor before Nick could reply.
Jackie stormed in a moment later. “What the hell are you doing? I heard Shelby’s name. Who were you talking to?”
“Just a call to the office, Ms. Rutledge.”
She walked right up to him, her finger stabbing him in the chest. “Where is Shelby? What is she doing with Laurel?”
Nick stepped back, raising his hands defensively. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
“She sucked three pints of blood out of that guy in there. Sliced him open with a razor and bled him out.” Jackie’s trembling hand hovered over the grip of her Glock. “She’s the killer, isn’t she, Nick? Isn’t she!”
“No,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “She’s not.” Nick decided against informing her that her partner might be making out with her new number-one suspect.
“You knew she did this, didn’t you?” Nick’s silence appeared to confirm her suspicion. “You are so fucking under arrest.” Her voice shook with terrified rage. “If she’s done anything to Laurel, so help me, I will bleed you out myself.”
Nick raised his hands behind his head, keeping a careful eye on the hand that now clenched around the holstered pistol. It looked like nobody would be catching Drake today.
Chapter 27
“We’re back!” Shelby yelled at Laurel over the rumble of her motorcycle.
Laurel peeled herself away from Shelby’s back and looked around. Her car was there in front of them, parked across from the Jade Dragon, where Shelby had picked up Chinese for their lunch. She licked her windblown lips, still tasting the faint sting of the chili peppers that had been in Shelby’s food and hot upon her tongue.
The icy-cold wind of the dead had still not left her bones. Shelby had let down her guard and let Laurel see, let her be witness to what Shelby was, a woman sitting on the border between life and death, drawing energy from the blood of others to keep herself on this side of the doorway, able to draw upon the spiritual energy of the dead lingering on the other side. Shocking did not even approach how Laurel felt at the discovery, though it came pretty close to the feeling of Shelby’s lips on her own after the fact. She felt sixteen at the moment, returning from her first real date. It was completely absurd, and though she was still overwhelmed by the events, a certain giddy elation kept her body tingling.
“Damn. I was just beginning to enjoy the ride.” Laurel swung her leg over and stepped off the back of the BMW.
“You can ride with me any time you like, Laurel.” Shelby grinned and pulled Laurel’s purse out of the storage compartment. “It was nice having your arms around me.” She handed the purse over to her. “Here.”
Laurel felt the warmth rush to her cheeks yet again. Shelby had no qualms about saying exactly what was on her mind, a refreshing and certainly attractive attribute, especially when it was her that appeared to be occupying Shelby’s mind. “Thanks. It’s been an . . . enlightening trip, to say the least.”
“I was worried you’d freak and want to arrest me on the spot.”
“Oh, no,” Laurel said, shaking her head. “I knew all along you had nothing to do with killing those boys. “Your aura is all wrong for it.”
Shelby reached out and took her hand. “What is my aura telling you now?”
Laurel swallowed hard, embarrassed that she was actually embarrassed. Okay, she had not been on a date in forever, but still. The woman’s touch sent goose bumps down her spine. “It’s telling me that maybe there’s another meeting in store for us. Soon.”
She squeezed Laurel’s hand and laughed. “God, I certainly hope so. I haven’t wanted someone so bad in years.” Shelby leaned over and kissed her quickly and then sat back on her motorcycle, zipping the leather jacket up to her neck. “It’ll happen. I can promise you that, but I need to get back out there. I can sense that fucker Drake in the area. It’s weird that he keeps fading in and out like this, but we’ll track him down. He wants us to find him, after all.”
“Call us if you do,” Laurel insisted. “Don’t take him on by yourself.”
“Worried about me?”
Again her cheeks began to flame. “You need to quit embarrassing me every two minutes.”
“It’s cute as hell though.” Shelby revved the engine and flicked on her blinker. “You telling Jackie what happened?”
“Yeah, I need to.”
“Will she believe you? Will she understand?”
Laurel shrugged. “Believe me, yes, even if she doesn’t understand it. What about Nick? Can you convince him to cooperate and help us?”
“I’ll talk to him again, but I don’t know. Part of me thinks he wants Drake to take him down.”
The thought sobered Laurel up in a hurry. “That’s no good.”
“Nope. He’s tired and full of guilt. Can’t blame him too much, really, but he can’t give up now. I think we might actually have a shot at Drake.”
“I hope so,” Laurel said.
“I know so,” Shelby said with a heartless smile. “He wants us to.” With that she gunned the BMW and roared off into traffic, taking the next corner nearly horizontal to the ground.
“Wow,” Laurel whispered, feeling the trailing cold tails of ghosts whip by her as Shelby vanished around the corner. The feeling lingered, however—cold and malignant.
Laurel turned and felt around, using her sense to home in on the spirit. It was near, a block or two at the most. Why had she not felt it earlier? There was something oddly familiar about it as well. Shouldering her purse, Laurel began walking down the sidewalk.
A cold wind picked up the closer she got to whatever it was. Whispering along with it, dark and unkind, came a voice. “Laurrrelll.”
It hit her then, why this spirit felt familiar. It had been the same one outside her window a couple days earlier, the one that had tried to claw its way through her protective charms. What was it doing over here?
The cell phone buzzed in her purse, reminding her she had yet to check in with Jackie. She could wait a few more minutes. She wanted to find this ghost before it stepped back into the world of the dead. Deadworld. Shelby had spoke as if it were a place you could go visit, like Holland or Bermuda. Shelby. The cool fingers on Laurel’s face had certainly not left her feeling cool. She grinned at herself, feeling light and a bit crazy. She might have a date with a vampire. What a strange world.
“Laurrrelll.”
There. A mini market across the street. She was sure of it now. Laurel waited for traffic to clear and hurried across to the corner store, its windows plastered with ads and posters for lotto tickets, cigarettes, beer, and other assorted healthy ways to spend one’s money.
Bells tinkled overhead when she opened the door and walked inside, looking much like any other inner-city mini mart one might walk into, crammed to the gills with overpriced convenience and an assortment of cheap, imported knickknacks. A young woman stood idly by the till, smoking a cigarette. The ghost was somewhere in the back.
Stepping around an end cap on the far side of the store, Laurel was surprised to see a materialized apparition, vaporous and not wholly formed, but definitely recognizable as a man. She studied him for a moment, but nothing about his features looked familiar.
“Hello?” she said quietly. “I can hear you. What do you want?”
It shimmered, a malevolent grin spreading across its face before it began to glow and stretch into smoky tendrils. Through this dim haze, darkness yawned open in the corner, and to Laurel’s amazement, an impeccably dressed man stepped through, wearing a dark blue suit with a crimson tie. His hair was short, graying, and combed straight back with a bit of a wave. It was thin enough on top that you could see his scalp peeking through in places. Your average fiftysomething executive. He smiled, but it was one of those humorless things that corporate types learned to plaster on their faces when meeting with clients or the competition.
And his gray, irisless eyes glowed like bright, hot coals.
“Good day to you, Ms. Carpenter. So good of you to come.”
Panic tried to claw its way out of her brain, but the signal to run had been short-circuited. Those eyes knew why. They knew everything. Deep, soulless eyes that gazed with the power of the Goddess herself, peeling away every last vestige of defense, exposing and revealing every horrible and hidden secret. There was no judgment in there, just the ambivalent acceptance that came from all things dead.
She absently fumbled in her purse for the cell phone, finding only the thin, painted empress card, and managed to squeak out three words. “And you are?”
“Drake, my dear, lovely woman. Cornelius Drake.” His smile stretched wider, revealing all his yellowing smoker’s teeth, and he stretched out a hand toward her. “Come. My car is out front. Let’s take a drive, shall we?”
Laurel extended her hand, watching it as if it were someone else’s, getting wrapped in the cold fingers of the grim reaper himself. His grip was comforting, reassuring, and—much like Shelby—Laurel knew she would do anything for him.
In their wake, the old empress card tumbled to the ground from Laurel’s other hand, its warning unheeded.