We hurried a few steps forward and knelt beside a manhole. Quinn pulled off the cover and slipped down a ladder. I stopped at the edge and peered into the darkness below me.
"You're kidding, right?" I asked him as he disappeared into the shadows of the sewers.
"If you stay there long enough then you can ask those those guys if they're joking around," Quinn quipped.
I decided our pursuers probably weren't the type to play practical jokes so I climbed down into sewer.
"Close the hole behind you," Quinn shouted at me from the bottom of the ladder.
I did as he told and not a moment too soon. The round lid slid into place just as I heard a mess of heavy footsteps arrive on the other side of the fence. Heavy bodies slammed through the wood fence and clambered over the manhole. Quinn and I didn't wait around to ask if they needed directions to find us. We sloshed through the muck and filthy water without light or map.
"I hope you know where you're going," I spoke up.
"I wouldn't be going this way if I didn't," Quinn retorted.
"Good, then you can tell me why we're mucking through the sewers," I returned.
"If they get down here they can't follow our scents," Quinn explained.
We took a corner in the darkness and I heard a scratching noise behind us. I stopped at the turn and glanced over my shoulder. our pursuers were pretty desperate to get at us. As I watched them splash down into the muck from the sewer opening. I followed after Quinn before I lost him. He was faster than I expected him to be considering all the time as times I saw him sitting down compared to standing up. We flew through those sewer tunnels like he could see in the dark. Even my super vision could barely see more than dark outlines of the walls.
We sloshed through the sewers for a couple of hours before Quinn stopped us at another letter. We climbed up and into the fresh late morning early morning air. Our exit was in an upscale neighborhood, the type of beat every cop wanted because the worst offense was jaywalking. The tall, old houses were protected behind thick stone walls that had more security than some banks.
I stumbled against one of these posh walls and sloshed sewer water all over its whitewash. A faint glow in the western sky told me the sun would be up within the hour. It had been a hell of a twenty-four hours and I was exhausted.
"This way," Quinn instructed me as he strode forward.
"Can't you give me a few minutes to die?" I quipped.
He paused and turned to me. "If someone sees you they're going to call the cops."
I snorted. "Just my luck to be arrested after all this shit."
"This shit would be almost over if you'd get your ass moving behind me, detective," Quinn insisted.
I glared at him. "Mind cutting me some slack? For the last twenty-four hours I've been through hell on an out-of-control merry-go-round."
He jerked his head towards one of the larger homes. It was an old Victorian place with enough creeps to scare Dracula. The large lawn was surrounded by a black iron bar fence with bushes behind that. "I'll give you slack inside there."
I raised an eyebrow. "Why there?"
"I'll tell you inside," he insisted.
He turned and walked off. I sighed and strode after him. We reached the front gates, an impressive mess of wrought-iron workmanship that cost more than my four years of police training. There was a thick chain twined around the pair of gates with a padlock the size of a softball keeping the two ends of the chain together. Quinn pulled out a key and opened the lock. He swung open the gate and we slipped inside. Quinn shut the lock behind us and we walked up the gravel driveway to the small front porch.
The place had a creepy vibe to it that I just couldn't place. Maybe it was the thick black curtains in the windows or the complete silence around the place, or maybe it was the crows on the roof that watched us with their beady red eyes.
"Does Dracula know we're coming?" I quipped.
Quinn paused on the front step of the porch and turned to me with a funny smile. "Maybe, but let's get inside."
Quinn unlocked the front door and swung open the entrance. He swept his arm into the dark hall. "Ladies first."
I snorted. "We'd still have to flip a coin to decide who goes first," I quipped.
That creepy smile didn't slide from his lips, but he did step inside first. I followed and looked around. The place was dark, but clean. There was a long hallway that led to the rear and the wings of the house were on either side of the entrance hall. The stairs to the second floor were to the left of the hallway and I saw there was a doorway beneath the stairs that probably led to the basement.
Quinn walked past me and down the hall towards the rear of the house. "There's a bedroom upstairs you can use if you're tired, and some food in the fridge," he told me.
I grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" I questioned him.
He glanced over his shoulder at me and frowned. "To sleep. Even I can't stay up forever."
I shook my head. "First we finish the talk we were having at the club," I insisted.
"Right now?"
"Right now."
CHAPTER 25
It had been a hell of a night, but I wasn't going to go to bed until I had my answers. There I was in Quinn's house, and he and I were seated opposite each other in his living room. I sat on the couch, and he was in a chair.
He leaned against the back of his chair and clasped his hands together in his lap. "What would you like to know first?"
I nodded at his inner jacket pocket. "I'd like to know what's on that disk."
He grinned and shook his head. "Not until I get what I want."
"So what will you tell me right now?" I asked him.
He nodded at my hands. "I can tell you how to get rid of that."
I raised my hands and looked at my clawed fingers. My fingers hadn't changed back. I ground my teeth together and fisted my hands as I felt the clause break the skin of my palms.
"This is only part of my problem. Making this go away isn't going to rid of the curse," I told him.
"No, but you'll be able to help me and yourself by hiding what you are now," he pointed out.
I opened my fists and my eyes flickered up to him. "How the hell do you think you know so much? Did you learn it all from the disk?"
He grinned and shrugged. "Maybe I did, and maybe I didn't. All you need to know is what I tell you now."
I jumped to my feet and glared at him. "You think I'm some servant dog because I look like this? I won't take orders from you." I held my fists in front of me so he could clearly see it. "I could crush steel with these. What makes you think I won't put a dent in that face of yours?"
Quinn chuckled. "For one, you're a detective, Detective. To protect and serve is your motto. I won't believe for a second that just because you look like a monster that you've become one. For another, you don't quite have a grasp on what you're capable of."
"And you know what I'm capable of?" I questioned him.
"More than you know, but I don't think we're getting anywhere with your questions." He stood and gestured to the doorway. "Maybe we should get some sleep and-"
"I don't want any sleep!" I screamed. I took a step towards him and felt my teeth lengthen into fangs. "I want answers, and you're going to give them to me now!"
Quinn's smile slid off his lips and he folded his arms across his chest. "You're letting the beast take control of you. That wouldn't be a good idea around me."
I ticked off everything that ticked me off. His smug attitude, the miserable night I'd had, and all the stupid mystery that I'd dealt with since that night. I couldn't take it anymore. I sprang at him with my claws and teeth bared. He just stood there waiting for me to jump on him like he was a giant wolf treat, and the next second he was gone. Vanished like a ghost.
That didn't stop me. I landed where he had stood and lifted my head. My nose sniffed the air for him, and I whipped my head back to glance over my shoulder.
Quinn stood where I had
jumped from. His eyes were narrowed and I detected a reddish hue in their depths. I snarled and spun around to make another leap at him, but the next moment he was gone again. My eyes widened and I looked and I slept my gaze over the room.
"Behind you," Quinn's voice spoke up. A pair of arms reached around me and pulled me against a hard chess. I strained and kicked, but the strength of my captor was unbelievable. "Calm down or I will crush you," Quinn threatened me.
"Let me go!" I growled.
"Call me down, Detective!" he insisted. The next words he spoke were softer, but no less firm. "I'll tell you more of what you want to know if you come down."
"I said let me go!" I snarled. I was too far gone to care about anything except getting his blood on my teeth.
"Get a hold of yourself, Detective Maria Selena!" Quinn snapped at me. "You're better than this! Fight it!
I shut my eyes and ground my sharp teeth together. God dammit, but he was right. I wasn't the bloodthirsty type. It didn't suit my badge. I did an old trick my dad once taught me.
"One, two, three, four. . ." I counted off until I hit ten. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. The world was no longer red, and I noticed my fangs were teeth and all of the hair and claws were gone from my hands.
"Very well done, Detective," Quinn complemented me.
Quinn opened his arms and I dropped to the ground. I pressed my hands against my face and didn't feel the peach fuzz of wolf hair, though the normal spots for my hair were still long and thick. I spun around to face him. Quinn stood there with his arms crossed and that strange glint in his eyes. I raised an eyebrow.
"What are you?" I asked him.
He chuckled. "Now you're asking the right questions."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "What you talking about?"
He shrugged and walked over to his chair. "And there you go asking the wrong questions again," he scolded me as he took a seat. He clasped his hands together in front of his face with his elbows on the arms of the chair and looked at me over his fingers. "You asked me what I was. What I am is a vampire."
I shook my head and ran a hand through my thick, wolfy hair. "You've got to be kidding me. . ." I grumbled.
"Some nights I wish I was, but this night isn't one of them," Quinn replied. He dropped his hands into his lap and smirked. "I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty old even for my kind. It was my love of information that kept me alive, and keeps me in business."
I opened my eyes and glared at him. "So you're telling me that you want a werewolf to work for you, a vampire, to gets something from a mob boss?"
"That's exactly what I'm telling you," he confirmed.
I dropped onto the couch. "If you're such an old and powerful vampire then why don't you get it yourself?"
He smiled and shook his head. "They'd spot me in an instant. You saw what happened at the club."
I leaned forward and frowned. "Speaking of that, why did you have us meet at the club, and who were those men who chased us?" I questioned him.
Quinn studied my face. "You don't believe I'm a vampire."
"I believe you believe it," I quipped.
"But that's not quite the same thing, but I suppose it doesn't matter," he mused. "What matters is that I have that vial in my possession so I can put the disk in yours."
"How am I supposed to get this vial when you can't?" I asked him.
"Like I said before, with your-shall we say new personality-you'll fit right in with this crowd," he assured me. He glanced over my body and frowned. "We'll have to get something more suitable for the occasion, but you'll fit fine into a slick dress."
"You forgot one thing. I still don't have an invitation, and if this guy's as powerful as you're implying then he's going to have the place watched and wired for security," I pointed out.
Quinn stood and stretched his arms above his head. "That's for you to figure out, Detective. I'll give you a dress and a ride. The rest is up to you."
I narrowed my eyes. "That disk better be worth it," I warned him.
"I think you'll find my information very-well, interesting," he assured me.
"How interesting?" I asked him.
"Just the identity of this-well, we'll call this Shadow a man, and his dealings throughout the city. It could blow the criminal world wide open. You would be a hero, the city's savior," he mused.
"I don't care about being a hero, but if what you're telling me is true-"
"And it is," he insisted.
"-then what you have there is evidence of criminal activity, and needs to be handed over, so give it," I demanded as I held out my hand palm-up to him.
He chuckled and patted his chest. "You know I don't work for free, Detective, and this certainly cost me a great deal. That's why I'm asking for the vial."
I folded my arms across my chest. "And I'm supposed to trust a self-proclaimed vampire to hand over that disk after I get the vial?"
He grinned and bowed his head. "You have my word, Detective."
I snorted. "Keep it. It's not worth the breath you used to say it."
"If that is all you have to say then I think it's time we got some rest," Quinn suggested. He walked past me and towards the doorway.
"This questioning isn't over, Quinn. Not by a long shot," I warned him.
He waved to me as he left the room. "Good day, Detective."
CHAPTER 26
I sat on the couch for a few minutes thinking about what Quinn had said. None of it sounded sane, but my world had become one long stay at a psycho ward. I leaned forward and ran a hand through my hair.
"What do you have to lose?" I whispered to myself.
Well, beside my life. My sanity was already forfeit.
I got up and looked out the window. The sun peeked over the horizon and spilled into the room. Another day, another mess to get into.
I walked out of the living room and into the entrance hall. The house was eerily quiet. Too quiet. The last few days had trained me to treat quiet as a threat. I moved to the bottom of the stairs and looked up.
"Quinn?" I called.
No answer. My sensitive hearing didn't even hear a board creak. I wished for my gun as I slowly moved up the stairs. The second floor had two hallways. One traveled the length of the house, and the other the width. There were six doors; two to my right, two to my left, and the others in front of me at the back of the house. A door to my right and in front of me was partially ajar. I crept forward and glanced down at my sides. Nothing and nobody there.
I reached the door and peeked inside. It was a large bedroom with a dresser, oriental rugs that cost more than my pension, and some paintings of demons attacking women. The windows opposite the door were covered in a thick layer of dark curtains. The bed was missing, but there was a long, rectangular box in its place and a nightstand beside the head.
"You've got to be kidding me. . ." I murmured as I slipped inside.
I crept up to the box and looked it over. It was made of some dark-red wood and the hinges were on the side that faced away from the door. I knelt down and slipped my fingers beneath the lid. An easy lift and the lid flew open. I looked in.
Quinn looked back at me.
I yelped and stumbled back on my hands and knees. My eyes never left the box as my back hit the wall close to the door. I tried to get a hold of my oncoming heart attack and make some sense out of what I saw. Whatever I saw, it wasn't Quinn sitting up. Nobody appeared out of the box.
I slid my back up the wall onto my feet and peered into the box. Quinn lay there in the same position with his eyes staring at the ceiling.
"Quinn?" I whispered. No reply, and no breathing. His chest didn't move an inch.
I slipped over to the box, and looked down at Quinn and his bed. The inside of the box was lined with soft red velvet and there was a pillow at the head. Quinn lay there with his hands clasped on his chest and as still as death.
I knelt beside the box and took hold of one of his arms. He didn't object, and I checked for his pulse. I
felt the color drain from my face when I didn't feel anything. No pulse, but there also wasn't any rigor mortus. If this guy was a stiff, he wasn't stiff yet. That meant either I was dealing with a freshly dead guy, or a long undead guy.
Unfortunately, in my recent line of work my brain aimed towards the latter rather than the former, and I guessed Quinn was a former human-turned-blood sucker. I dropped his hand back onto his chest and looked at his pale face.
"Damn it, Quinn. Why'd you have to do this to me?" I murmured. I turned around and rested my back against the side of the coffin. "Seriously? Why couldn't you have been just a normal guy?"
"Because that is no more me than it is you," a voice whispered in my ear.
I yelped and sprang to my feet. I spun around and saw Quinn in a seated position with a smile slapped on his face.
"You're supposed to be dead!" I shouted at him.
"Undead, Detective," he corrected me.
I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest. "If you're undead than how are you awake? And why the hell didn't you wake up when I was checking your pulse?"
"I thought it would be more amusing and useful if you found out the truth for yourself," he explained. "And I taught you a valuable lesson."
"What's that?" I questioned him.
His smile slid off his face and his voice was firm. "That you shouldn't turn your back on a person unless you're sure they're dead. Permanently."
I threw my hands up in the air. "Fine, you're not dead and you're not alive. I admit that. Happy?"
He covered his mouth to hide a yawn. "No. You interrupted my rest, and I'll ask that you not do it again. Your bedroom is across the hall, and as I said before there's food in the fridge. Now I'll bid you good day and we'll resume our discussion after night fall." He grabbed the lid and shut it over himself.
I shook my head and sighed. "You're in deep shit. . ."
"How very true, Detective," came Quinn's muffled voice from the coffin.
I left the room and made sure to give the door a good bang shut on my way out. The force shook the wall, and Quinn yelled something that didn't get through the door but what I understand as a four-letter word with my name attached. I grinned and moved to the room on the opposite side of the hall. It was a normal bedroom with a normal bed.
I sat down on the foot and fell back onto the bed. The white ceiling stared back at me, and I sighed.