Chapter 5
When I woke up again, the light in my bedroom was all wrong. It was way past sunrise. I checked the clock on my nightstand and swore. I’d missed my class with Sensei, and I had a missed call from Aspen on my phone.
I pushed myself up and swore again when all my muscles screamed in protest. Sore muscles weren’t a new thing for me with how hard I trained, but there was a hell of a difference between lactic acid and bruises.
I picked up the phone and dialed Aspen’s number.
“Are you okay?” she asked when she picked up. “When you weren’t here, I got worried.”
“I had a rough night and slept it off. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know. I’ll be over later.”
I phoned Sensei as well and rescheduled. It was just as well I hadn’t woken up in time to go. I was stupid enough to train even when I was injured, and that wouldn’t have worked out well.
My eye was still bruised, but it looked like the worst was over. If I’d been human, it would have been an angry purple, but it was a yellowy-blue, already healing. My split lip was almost fully healed, just tender. But my head still hurt like hell.
An image of Aspen lying on the floor in a pool of blood flashed through my mind: a cut across her forehead, the blood slick and glistening on her cheek and on the carpet. Then I saw teeth, sharp and elongated, and heard the guttural hiss that meant the vampire was going to strike again. Finally, I saw my mother’s body slumped under the table, her lifeless eyes staring through me.
I squeezed my eyes shut and grunted, grinding my teeth hard enough for my jaw to hurt, trying to ground myself. I had to get out of the house, away from the memories.
When I finally made it to the other side of Westham, it was almost eleven. I knocked on the door, and Zelda opened it. When she saw me, her eyes got wide.
“What happened to you?” she asked.
I shrugged. “One of them got to me.”
What was I supposed to say? I was getting into trouble, and it was literally starting to bite me in the ass.
Aspen was in her art room. She looked up at me, her face bright and open, but when she saw me, the light dimmed in her eyes. She frowned.
“Did you have a rough night?”
Well, you could say that. I didn’t look so bad, but she knew how fast I could heal – which meant that my injuries had probably been bad.
I shook my head and forced a smile. “It looks a lot worse than it feels,” I lied. It felt like hell. It was more emotional than physical at this point, though. “In my line of work, these things happen once in a while.”
Aspen pressed her lips into a thin line, and her eyes shimmered.
“Don’t worry about me. I just had to come see you so you’d know I’m all right.” Actually, I wasn’t sure this would count as “all right” in her book. The truth was, I’d come to see her to make sure she was the one who was all right.
“Has anyone contacted you lately?” I asked.
“Contact me? How?”
When she frowned and tipped her head to the side like that, she looked exactly like she had when she was fourteen. Sometimes, Aspen didn’t look like she’d aged a day. It was part of what had made her so vulnerable, even before she’d become wheelchair-bound.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, shrugging to look less serious. “Someone mentioned something yesterday about half-breeds.”
“You mean we’re going to be thrown out in the open?” she asked.
“I doubt that’s going to happen. Just tell me if anyone tries to call or anything, okay?”
It wasn’t her they were after. It was me. Aspen wasn’t a threat because she didn’t go out looking for trouble. I was the one who was leaving a trail, however thin, something someone could follow.
I swallowed hard and pushed away the guilt that throbbed in my gut. If I was caught or discovered somehow, it would put Aspen in danger. And that would be the exact opposite of what I was trying to accomplish every night.
The only answer was to be careful and to keep an eye out for the woman who had attacked me. If it happened again, I wouldn’t lose. Only one person would walk away the next time.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” I said, changing the subject. “I need your help.”
“Oh, the great Adele comes to me for help?” Aspen said, beaming.
“Don’t get a big head,” I said, but the light was back in her eyes. This was how I liked to see her. This was how she was meant to be.
I told her about Jennifer and the job she wanted me to do.
“Isn’t this the kind of thing you’re supposed to be doing?” Aspen asked.
Oh, right. The police job I used as a front. In that case it would have made sense.
“It’s not exactly in my line of work,” I answered. It wasn’t at all, actually. “I was wondering if I should take it anyway.”
“I think you should,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because you’ve told me that it’s probably the right thing to do. You seem convinced that it is, and that’s as good a reason as any. Besides, if vampires got this guy… it might be too late for him. He might be…”
“I know,” I said softly.
We were both influenced by what had happened to us. We couldn’t think of vampires the same way anymore, no matter how related to them we ended up being. Aspen painted away her emotions. I fought them out. To each her own, but we both had the same problem.
“You have to save him, if you can,” Aspen said, and her voice was different. Thick, like she was going to cry.
“And if I can’t?”
She shrugged. There wasn’t an answer she could give me, but I didn’t need one. I could answer the question for myself.
Kill him.
“Thank you,” I said, and got up, then planted a kiss on her hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Let me know if something comes up again. I worry about you.”
“I will,” I said, and let myself out.
It was sweet of her to worry about me. She didn’t have to. I worried enough for both of us.
On the bus back home, I took out my phone and fished Jennifer’s business card out of my wallet. I dialed the number and waited. After the third ring, someone with an older voice picked up.
“Jennifer Lawson’s office.”
“I’d like to speak to Jennifer, please,” I said. “Tell her it’s Adele Griffin calling.”
Music blared over the line for a moment, and then Jennifer’s crisp voice rang out through the speaker.
“I was beginning to think you’d given up on me,” she said. “I’m so glad you called.”
“I’ll do it,” I said.
She gasped into the phone, and then her voice changed, making me think she was getting emotional on me again.
“Look, you have to give me something to work with,” I said before she could get blubbery on me. “A photo would be great, but information like… places he liked to go, or an address, maybe. You know, the important things. Anything that will help me find this guy as quickly as I can.”
“Of course. I’ll send it to you. Do you have an e-mail address?”
I gave her my home e-mail, making a mental note to check it later. As I hung up, the phone rang in my hands. I pushed the talk button.
“Joel,” I said.
“I have a hit on that social security number you were asking about. Do you want to swing by tonight to have a look?”
Great. A kill was exactly what I needed.
“You’re a saint, Joel. I’ll be there just after sunset.”
It looked like it was going to be a good night. I dialed one more number, and Sonya answered.
“He’s in a meeting,” she said, each word clipped.
“Just tell him I’m coming in tonight, but I’ll be a bit late.” I wasn’t going to beg to talk to Ruben. Hell, if it weren’t for my job, I would choose never to see him again.
When I go
t home, I made a sandwich for lunch and switched on the computer I hardly ever used. A thick sheet of dust lay over the top, and it took a long time to boot up. One e‑mail was waiting in my inbox. It was from Jennifer.
A photo of Connor O’Neill was attached. He was young, with blond hair, ocean-blue eyes, and a lot of muscle, but not in a showy way. It was lean muscle. Strength. If I ever paid attention to that kind of quality in a man, I’d have to admit he was attractive.
He had the same kind of glossiness about him that Jennifer had, the sheen that generally accompanied the rich. There was something very familiar about him, too, but I couldn’t place where I’d seen him before.
The address listed was 13 Mulberry Drive. It was in an average neighborhood just this side of the business district. Nothing too rich and fancy, nothing that screamed social elite. Jennifer had added a couple of his favorite hangouts and business meeting places, all very public and posh.
That troubled me. The address not making sense meant it might be new. New addresses pointed to vampire changes, especially if they were trying to be inconspicuous. To me, nothing stood out more than a vampire trying to blend in.
I sent the information to Joel to print out for me. If anything had happened to Connor O’Neill, all that information would be pretty useless, but it was a place to start, at least.
I wished I had something with his scent on it, but I wasn’t going to ask Jennifer for that, something a human investigator would have no use for. No, Jennifer was going to have to stay in the dark about my identity – no matter how far back that set me in my search.