Unbound

  Knox nodded once and slowly got out of the car. By the expression that flashed across his face, each motion was painful. After closing the door, he leaned forward on it, wincing as it cut into his wounded hands. “I’m sorry about the morgue and how I…performed at the house. I—”

  “Let it go, Knox. This job takes some getting used to. I’m not Valerio.” I was quick to cut him off. I didn’t want his apologies, particularly out in the open where any nightwalker might be able to hear him. We needed a strong front or there would be the chaos Bishop was so confident was everywhere within my domain. “Just get to work. I’ll be in contact.”

  “Mira, you realize that if the Daylight Coalition is behind this, there is a very good chance a member now has your photograph,” Knox grimly pointed out.

  “Well, I guess we’re going to have to get this bastard, because I’m not moving,” I said with a smirk. “Get to work.”

  The thought chilled me to the shreds of my soul. I had lived more than six hundred years and had never come close to exposing what I was to the world at large. But now it was a very real threat that my identity was in jeopardy. At the very least, I would become the main target for all of the Daylight Coalition.

  As I drove off, heading to a quieter part of the city, I pushed the speaker button on my steering wheel and said Daniel’s name into the open air. The Bluetooth connection to my cell phone quickly dialed the number.

  “I’m a little busy right now,” Daniel’s voice growled from the speakers of my car.

  “I have no doubt you are, but I need your help,” I said, pulling into a dark parking lot. “I have a lead in the case we discussed, but I need you to track her down for me. Name’s Katie Hixson. Slim build with blond hair—”

  “And blue eyes,” Daniel finished in a suddenly weary voice.

  “You know her?” I was stunned. What were the odds that Daniel knew this nightwalker wannabe?

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you know where I can find her?”

  “Yeah, I’m with her now. She’s dead, Mira.”

  4

  A dozen profanities tumbled past my lips, filling the air. It was a good thing that the residents of Savannah didn’t know seventeenth century Italian curses or I might have blushed.

  “Are you sure she’s dead?” It was a stupid question, but I couldn’t afford for Katie to be dead. Sure, I had planned to kill her if she had anything to do with Bryce’s murder, but that was only after I had managed to extract some information from her still-living brain.

  “I know dead, Mira,” Daniel snarled. “Her neck has been broken and she’s been drained of blood. She looks like a gray raisin. She’s dead.”

  I pounded the steering wheel once with my fist and swallowed a fresh round of curses. This was not how my night was supposed to go. I had hoped to have this whole mess settled before sunrise, but I was beginning to have serious doubts. Bishop was going to serve my head up on a silver platter to the Coven if I continued at this rate. That was assuming the Daylight Coalition didn’t get ahold of me first.

  “Where did you find her?” I bit out, trying to rein in my temper. My hands had begun to tremble and it felt as if my throat was starting to close up in fear. I wouldn’t let the Coven take me.

  “At home. Her neighbor called. She got concerned when she saw the front door left open.” The scrape of Daniel’s shoes on concrete could be heard in the background. It sounded like he was pacing outside, the one place he could get a little privacy at a murder investigation.

  “A wild guess, but the neighbor didn’t see anything?”

  “Not a thing. Not even sure when Ms. Hixson got home.”

  “Has Archie arrived yet?”

  “He’s on his way.”

  “Tell him to stall if necessary. I want to look at the body before you move it. What’s the address?”

  Daniel gave me quick directions as I shifted back into first and drove out of the dark parking lot. Once I found the right street, the house would be easy to identify. It would be the one surrounded by flashing cop cars and decorated in yellow tape like a giant Christmas tree.

  I flew through the gears, zipping across town as fast as I could. Katie’s house was just on the outskirts of the city on the opposite end from where Bryce’s nighttime lair was located. While Bryce’s death had annoyed me, Katie’s obvious murder had caused a knot of worry to start growing in my stomach. Had someone else known about her involvement with Bryce and killed her in fear that she knew something or saw something? Or maybe someone thought she was responsible for Bryce’s untimely demise and had murdered her in revenge?

  Yet all these concerns and speculation were pushed to back of my mind as I parked my car at the end of the block from Katie’s house. I had briefly hoped it would be in a questionable part of town so her death could be pawned off as a flash of random violence in a violent neighborhood. Unfortunately, Katie had owned a house in a quiet, family-oriented part of town with its neighborhood watches, window boxes, and decorative flags celebrating the upcoming start of summer. Not the type of place a body was supposed to be found drained and broken.

  Popping the trunk, I walked around to the back of the car and pulled out a black blazer. I quickly tucked my shirt into my jeans and pulled on the jacket. I briefly tried to straighten my hair and wipe away some of the blood that covered the side of my face. Without seeing a mirror, I knew I looked like I had been dragged through hell. Yet part of convincing a human that we were something other than what we really were was giving them a good reason to believe us. And right now, I needed to be able to convince the cops milling around this crime scene that I was just another detective.

  With my shoulders back and my head up, I walked down the street and past the threshold of the house, pausing long enough to wipe my feet on the brown and black welcome mat. As I passed each police officer, detective, and forensic investigator, I mentally pushed the image of my being another detective into their brains. It took a little extra push because my jeans were torn and dirty. There was also dried blood on my temple and along the side of my face from where my scalp had been cut by flying debris at Bryce’s house.

  The process was tiring and the strain was already causing my head to throb along with all the other aches in my body. There were close to a dozen people in the area, not counting the neighbors that were standing in their front yards with looks of horror stretched across their faces. Normally, I wouldn’t dare to come into a crime scene littered with so many people, but three people were dead in less than twenty-four hours and I was beginning to fear that the body count was going to continue to rise if I didn’t find the killer soon. My people didn’t need to be drawn into the spotlight by some psychopathic loose cannon.

  In the living room, I found Daniel standing on the fringe of the group huddled around the body sprawled on the floor. His lips were drawn into a frown, causing deep lines to crease his face. An unlit cigarette dangled from his fingertips, waiting for him to finally step outside again so he could light it.

  The room was a cheery affair in pale orange with a darker orange acting as an accent. The sofa and chair were covered in white linen and surrounded a honey-wood coffee table. Pictures of flowers in black metal frames lined the walls.

  Katie lay on the floor with her arms folded over her chest. It was strange. There was no look of strain on her face, no fear. From what I could see, there were no bruises, scratches, or signs that she had fought for her life. It looked as if someone had lovingly laid her on the ground after he or she was done with the distasteful task of killing the young woman.

  But Daniel was right. Her head lay at a slightly odd angle, and broken bone poked and stretched the skin. Her neck had been completely snapped. Not the easiest of feats, and it was very likely that it had been done by a nightwalker. Her skin was also a stomach-turning shade of gray that sagged and hung loose on her body. Someone had drained her of all her blood. But I didn’t know of any nightwalker that could do such a thing in a single feeding, and thi
s whole thing felt too neat for several nightwalkers to be involved.

  “Forced entry?” I murmured as I came to stand next to Daniel. We both watched as one of the investigators snapped a series of pictures of the body and the rest of the room.

  “No,” Daniel said, pulling the cigarette box from his pants pocket. He returned the loose cigarette back to the box and put the box in his pocket again. “It looks like Ms. Hixson let the murderer in. There’s no sign of struggle. She probably had no idea she was in danger.”

  Katie probably knew her attacker. She let the person in when he or she arrived. And when she turned her back on her attacker, the murderer snapped her neck with no pain and little fuss. I frowned. I just couldn’t figure out who the killer was or why Katie was killed shortly after Bryce. Maybe they weren’t necessarily related.

  Daniel finally looked over at me and nearly stumbled a step backward. I hadn’t bothered to adjust his perception of me. There was no need, and I had enough on my plate already. “You look like shit,” he whispered, trying to avoid drawing the attention of the others.

  “So kind of you to say so,” I muttered.

  “Trouble at the house?”

  “It’s not there anymore.”

  Daniel sighed as he rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose. “Did you cause that?”

  “I wouldn’t look like this if I did,” I grumbled.

  “Same killer?” he whispered.

  I shook my head slowly, frowning. “No.” I knew without a doubt that a nightwalker had killed Katie, while a human had been responsible for Bryce’s death.

  “Linked?”

  “I…I don’t know,” I admitted, wishing I didn’t have to.

  Shaking my head, I left Daniel’s side and approached the corpse. I knelt down, ignoring the strange looks I was receiving, and bent over to sniff the body. Before I could get my face close to her, I picked up the overwhelming scent of perfume. It was everywhere; on Katie’s clothes, her hair, her skin. Whoever had touched her was smart enough to douse himself or herself in perfume so I couldn’t pick up the individual scent. Only a lycanthrope might have a strong enough sense of smell to pick it out, but there was a good chance that he wouldn’t recognize the scent of the nightwalker. Otherwise, Katie’s body did not yet reek of death and decay. She had been dead for less than two hours. Her neighbor had just missed walking in on the murder.

  The one thing I was sure of was the fact that Katie had been killed by a nightwalker and the murder had occurred shortly after sunset, by someone the woman had possibly known. Katie’s death was too neat and tidy, and there was a lingering feeling of mercy and compassion. This was done by someone who knew her.

  Pushing back to my feet, I walked back over to Daniel, keeping my back to the rest of the room. “Tell Archie to call me if anything interesting turns up.”

  “You think something will?” he mocked me. We were looking at a woman that had been killed by the breaking of her neck and then drained of her blood, but there wasn’t a drop on the pale tan carpet.

  “Like no puncture marks on an exsanguinated corpse?” I offered. When I was kneeling next to Katie, I noticed no puncture marks on her neck or in the interior of her arms. It was possible they were somewhere else on her body, but it was unlikely. It was more likely the nightwalker had healed the wound out of habit. “Yeah, he’ll find something interesting. You might want to also check the bathtub. Some of the blood might have been sent down the drain. I’ll be in contact.”

  I quickly left the house and headed back to my car. This wasn’t good. I had a third dead body, and this one was caused by a nightwalker. The peace in my domain was crumbling around me, and the worse it got, the better the chance of humans discovering our secret.

  Popping the trunk of my car with my remote, I tossed the blazer inside and pulled my shirt back out of my jeans. The night was not going well and it was about to get worse.

  “I don’t think doing a striptease in the middle of the street is going to convince me to allow you to slide on this mess you’ve got in your domain. That’s the third dead body tonight, isn’t it?” Bishop asked from where he leaned up against a tree just a few paces from my car. I hadn’t noticed him there when I walked up because my mind was stuck on the problem at hand.

  “You realize that I’m being set up,” I snarled at him, my temper getting worse as fear flooded my veins.

  “You’re saying that all these people are being killed just to make you look bad so that you’ll be sent back to the Coven,” Bishop sarcastically said, scratching his chin. “It’s a possibility.”

  “Damn it, Bishop!” I stomped over to where he stood leaning against the tree, his arms folded over his large chest. “You know me. You know what we’re capable of. I’m being set up.”

  “And it’s working.”

  Snarling, I took a swing at him, but he was expecting it. Pushing off the tree, he grabbed both of my wrists and pinned them over my head against the tree. He pressed in close so that his face filled my field of vision. I positively itched to put my knee in his groin, but I waited to hear what he had to say.

  “It’s working, Mira. Someone probably does have it in for you and they’re successfully setting you up. How many enemies could you possibly have here?”

  “A few,” I admitted. Justin Ravana instantly came to mind. While he had never made any play to seize power of the domain from me, he had always been a steady voice of unrest. But in the end, he kept to himself so I let him be.

  “Would any of these enemies have a reason to kill this poor human?”

  “One would,” I growled. Killing Katie would be Justin’s way of wiping out the last of Bryce’s ties while potentially making me look bad in front of the Coven. Justin was my next target, and I was happy to take the fight to him.

  Frowning, I stared at Bishop for a moment, trying to suppress my few memories of the nightwalker. Too many nights washed in blood and violence. “You know I can clean this up and get the territory back under control. This is about Macaire wanting me under his thumb in Venice,” I said, shifting slightly so that the tree bark wasn’t biting into my back. Macaire had hated me since Jabari had taken me under his wing five centuries ago. With Jabari now missing, the ancient nightwalker now thought it was safe to make his move against me, and if I didn’t think of something fast, it was going to work.

  “Why does it have to be about only Macaire?” Bishop shifted his hands so that my wrists were held loosely in one of his large hands. His left hand came down and moved some hair away from my face. “Admit it, Mira. We had fun in Venice together. You used to enjoy our games with the fledglings. Hell, they feared you more than the entire Coven. You thrived on their fear. Why don’t you just come home? Macaire will leave you alone if you listen to him.”

  “I can’t go back to that life. I’ve outgrown it. This is my home now,” I said. Leaning forward, I brushed my lips across his cheek. “Why can’t you stay here?” I whispered. “You’ve been with the Coven most of your life. You’ve got to be growing weary of it. Stay here with me. Make this your new home.”

  “And go from being a messenger for the Coven to being a flunky for the Fire Starter? Not likely,” he said snidely.

  “No. Just live here. Be your own person.”

  Bishop stared silently at me for a minute, the skepticism clear on his face, but I could also see the hope in his eyes. The offer was appealing. Bishop had a lot of freedom due to his position within the court, but not true freedom—not like what I was offering.

  “It’s tempting, but not everyone’s master is as forgiving. My leash is not quite as long as yours,” he said, releasing my hands as he stepped away from me. And it was true. I didn’t belong to Jabari in the same way Bishop belonged to Macaire. Yet if Jabari demanded I return to Venice, I would out of loyalty and a good dose of fear.

  “Then all I ask is that you be fair about this,” I pleaded, cupping his face with my hands. “Give me a chance to fix this.”

  “You’re fla
iling.”

  “Temporarily. I can fix this.”

  “One more dead body not of your own making and you’re going back with me,” Bishop warned, gently lowering my hands from his face.

  I nodded, pulling from his grip. “The offer still stands. You’re welcome here.”

  “Maybe someday, but not now, not like this.”

  5

  I was done chasing my tail. I was ready to take the fight to the one person who had the most to gain from my removal. Justin Ravana’s three-story brick house was located on a hill on the outskirts of the city. Its location not only allowed him to easily sense the approach of any nightwalker, but he could watch them crawl up his hill like a supplicant coming to request a boon.

  Driving up the hill, I realized that I had made a mistake in the handling of him. I had thought that he would be content to rule over his family, and for a time he had been, but now he wanted to take all of Savannah from me. For him, the easiest way to claim it would be through the Coven. I had little doubt that he had been the little bird chirping in the ear of Macaire, telling his lies so that I would be drawn back to Venice and all her horrors.

  My temper was barely caged when one of Justin’s fledglings showed me to the main parlor where Justin sat waiting for me. The air in the house was thick with the scent of blood and fear. Muffled screams and heavy footsteps could be heard on wooden floors about me.

  “Mira, this is a surprise,” Justin opened, pushing slowly out of his cushioned high-backed chair as if he was reluctant to rise to his feet in my presence.

  “It shouldn’t be. Bryce belonged to you, didn’t he?”

  “And so did poor Heather. Savannah has certainly become a dangerous place to live,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “I’m sure your fledglings would argue that it always has been.”

  A smile toyed with his lips as his eyes traveled over the length of me. “Yes, well, one has to do what one must to keep the young ones in line.”