Rossi strode—well, with his grace it was more like glided—angrily into the eggshell room.
He opened the door with enough force to make the chicken shells tremble.
“What,” he snarled, “do you want?”
I shut the door carefully behind him and refused to be intimidated.
“Why is Ryder here?”
“I told you.”
“You told me a lie. Now tell me the truth.”
“I don’t like him. I don’t trust him. I don’t think he is innocent in the death of one of my own.”
Well. He didn’t mess around. Good. I liked it best when Rossi was being blunt.
“You don’t have to like him or trust him. But you do not get to decide on any creature, deity or mortal’s innocence in this town. That’s my job, and I am good at it. So you want to try that again? Tell me that you didn’t bring him out here to kill him?”
One eyebrow rose up toward the curl of black hair that brushed his forehead. “If I were going to kill him he’d already be dead, and buried so quickly, he’d still be steaming six feet under.”
“Why don’t you trust him?”
He paced over to his couch. He didn’t sit, instead walking along the back of it, his hands gripped at the wrist behind his hips. “That is a question I would rather not answer. Are you sure it’s the question you want to ask?”
“Yes.” I could tell him I had ideas, theories as to why he had been trying to warn me off Ryder ever since he’d found out we were dating. But I didn’t want to influence what he was going to say.
“That isn’t the question you came here to ask me, is it Delaney?”
No. “Yes. One of them.” See? I could be truthful.
He had reached the far side of the couch and studied the eggs in cases there for a moment before turning back toward me.
“He smells funny.”
Okay, that was not what I expected him to say.
“Funny how? Like ha-ha? Or like weird? Is it a blood thing? A fanger thing?”
He looked mildly offended by the fanger remark, but continued as if I hadn’t said anything.
“Throughout the years there have been those who hunt. Those who seek out the creatures of this world. Those who would eradicate anything that is different, misunderstood, alien.”
“You think he’s a vampire hunter? Like Buffy? Sam and Dean? Seriously?”
I had it on good authority that there were no vampire hunters in the world. Sure, there were people who were curious about cryptozoology. There was scripted monster hunting that might make for a good half-hour slot on some fake historical or nature channel. But there were no organization of hunters who really believed there were real vampires in the world.
“There is an organization of hunters,” Old Rossi started, and I could only blink several times as my brain did some revisions and carried the dumbfounded. “It has not long been formed. Throughout the years, such organizations come...and go.”
From the slide of his tongue over his upper lip, I could guess how exactly those organizations had disappeared.
“They often die from being ignored. If they are exposed, mockery is their bane. This is not a world that wishes to believe in the things that linger in the shadows.” For that he gave me a lazy half-smile.
Okay. Maybe I liked it better when he didn’t smile.
“So you think...there’s a group of people hunting vampires? Killing vampires like Sven? You think Ryder is a part of that group?”
“It was his blood.”
“He donated blood. To the Red Cross.”
He snorted. “You believe that?”
“I checked the records. It’s on the up-and-up. He donated blood. I think someone used his blood to kill Sven.”
“You think there is someone who wants Ryder blamed for Sven’s death? Who hates him that much?”
“You.”
Old Rossi breathed out hard enough his nostrils flared. “How many times do I have to tell you that if I wanted him dead, I would take a very direct action toward that goal?”
“Would any of your clan want him dead because you don’t trust him?”
“Possibly. But they would not act upon that desire without consulting me.”
“Would you know if someone had done it?”
“What do you mean?”
“How connected are you to the other vampires in the town? Can you read their minds? Can you see through their eyes? Hear through their ears?”
“Didn’t your father ever explain the blood bond of our kind?”
“Not in detail. I know you all have an...awareness of each other. You can read minds. Mortal minds and each other’s minds.”
He waited to see if I was going to add any details to that. “Really? That’s all?”
I shrugged. “We try to respect every creature’s privacy. There’s probably more in the books.”
“Which you haven’t read?” He shook his head.
“Yet. I’ll get to it. It’s been a slightly crappy year.”
He unhooked his hands and rubbed at his temples. “All right.” He hitched one hip on the back of the couch and leaned there. “Vampires mate.”
“I know that.”
He held up one finger for my silence. “Vampires mate. Mates can read each other’s minds, see through each other’s eyes, hear through each other’s ears. Vampires born as blood relations also have this ability with their genetic relation—so sisters or brothers, fathers or mothers.”
I didn’t tell him I understood the meaning of the word “relation.” He was talking. That’s what I needed.
“In general, we can communicate thought-to-thought, but seeing and hearing via another of our kind is not easily done. Sometimes lovers can make that connection. As the prime vampire, I can force a connection to any I accept as my family.”
“So you all have telepathy, but the sight and audio is more specific.”
“Yes.”
“Is it influenced by distance?”
“No. Although Ordinary has an amplification effect on those abilities.”
Interesting. I’d have to go back to that little tidbit later.
“So you’d know where any of your clan is, even if they’re outside Ordinary?”
“Of course.”
“Did you know Sven wasn’t in Ordinary when he was killed?”
He was silent. Still.
“No.”
“He was killed, then dragged to the shed out by Joe Boy’s.”
“And how do you know this?”
“Bertie.”
“And how does a Valkyrie know where he was killed?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he seemed to realize what he had said.
“Exactly. Valkyrie. Good with time of death. Especially for the warrior type. So I’m guessing Sven didn’t go down without a fight. Is there anyone who was connected to him? Anyone who could have felt his death? Seen or heard his attacker?”
He tipped his head and stared at the middle distance as if he were silently reciting a list. Maybe he had turned on the prime brain-to-brain phone line and was asking that question to the clan.
“Etta. They were close. She might have felt something. Do you want me to talk to her?”
“I’d like to talk to her.”
“I’ll call for her.”
“Don’t summon her on my account. I know where her house is.”
He already had his cell phone out of his pocket, his thumbs tapping over the screen. “I’m not summoning. Vampires don’t summon. We text.”
He tucked the phone back in his pocket. “She’ll be right over.”
It was clear he didn’t want me talking to her unless he was present. “What are you worried I’ll do to her? You know I’ll be nice.”
“I’m not concerned about how well you’ll behave, Delaney. But Etta is not taking Sven’s death nearly as gracefully as I.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Good. Handle yourself here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I nee
d to address the business I left in my living room.”
He glided out the door and I followed behind him. “I thought you’d stay behind.”
“I thought you knew me better.”
He stopped so quickly, I almost ran into him.
“He dumped you, remember? There was a gun involved.”
“He didn’t shoot me and this isn’t about dating. It’s about you keeping your promise not to handle this murder investigation. It’s about your promise not to grill Ryder for answers. It’s about your promise to let me do my job, not lock me away in a room like I’m the fragile shell.”
“You really should come to my meditation classes. You carry all your stress in your...” he gave me a thorough up-down glance, “...everything.”
“Say, Mr. Rossi.” Ryder chose that moment to step out of the living room, meeting us in the hall. “I got a call and have a couple things I need to take care of. But I’ve...uh...drawn up the rough estimate for what we talked about. If you have any other questions, give me a ring. I always have my phone on me.”
Rossi took the paperwork Ryder offered in the very smart binder that had his business logo embossed on the front. “I’ll be sure to find you soon,” Rossi threatened.
“I’ll be by this afternoon.” Mr. Monroy obviously was going for friendly, but something about his hard brown eyes almost made it sound like a warning. “I think your business is ready to take off, Mr. Rossi, and I can guarantee you I’m the man who can offer you a myriad of possible plans to go forward.”
“This afternoon?” Rossi raised his eyebrow and gave him a sort of half-baked smile.
So he was playing the stoner hippy with the guy. Interesting.
“I’d love to. Sure man,” he said. “I have some stuff to take care of and a couple classes to ease my way through.”
That lazy attitude was like catnip to the other guy. His dark eyes got a little wider, pupils going big. “Tonight then?”
“I don’t think you need to barge in on his free time, Jake. Tomorrow should be fine after Mr. Rossi and I have had time to go over the quote.”
I heard the words Ryder was saying, but the tone was saying something different. It said that Jake had overstepped whatever deal they had between them and Ryder was pissed.
“Oh, I’m sure Mr. Rossi would let me know if I was being a bother. Plus, I have a feeling he’s a night person. Am I right?”
Yeah, and Jake’s tone was a big middle finger to whatever Ryder had been not-saying to him.
What I couldn’t understand was why this guy was pushing so hard to talk business with Rossi. Unless that wasn’t what was going on.
For probably the first time in my life I wished Rossi were listening in on my thoughts. But since I didn’t have that skill, and in theory all vamps were instructed not to eavesdrop on mortal brains in town, I wanted to tell this guy to back off before he made himself a nuisance to the pissed off vampire who looked like he’d rather have the guy over for a midnight snack.
“Hey Jake,” Crow said, “I’d like to take you up on your offer to talk over that property I own out by Road’s End.”
Crow owned property in Road’s End? That was some of the most sought-after real estate in town.
“We’ll catch up tomorrow,” Old Rossi said. “Come by any time. My class schedule is on the web page. We’re flexible about start and stop times.”
I watched Jake try to tamp down his anger at being blown off. He clamped his back teeth and offered a stilted smile.
“Sure. That will be fine. I’ll come out tomorrow.”
“Thanks again for your time,” Ryder said. “Rossi, Crow, Chief.” He started toward the door. “Coming, Jake?”
Jake did not look like he wanted to go anywhere. He also looked like he didn’t like Ryder telling him what to do.
“Actually, I’d love it if you sat in on the talk, Ryder.” Crow flicked me a You’re welcome look. “How about I buy you gentlemen coffee? There’s a new bakery in town I’ve been wanting to try out.”
Well, that was amazing. Crow offered to cover the bill. Pretty sure it was gonna start raining frogs soon.
I might even buy an umbrella hat if that happened.
“See you later, Delaney.” He also started for the door. Jake had no choice but to walk down the hall too.
I wanted to thank Crow for getting Jake off my hands, and not giving Rossi a chance to agree to a late meeting with the man. I didn’t know what Jake really wanted, but every instinct inside me said he wasn’t just a real estate developer.
Ryder, at the door, glanced back at me and there was a look in his eyes and a rakish smile I couldn’t ignore.
Then all three men were gone, leaving me and the vampire.
“I don’t like him,” I said.
“Crow?” Rossi asked.
“Jake.”
“The Reeds have always had good instincts.”
“Promise you won’t kill him.”
Rossi didn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally: “I’ll make us some tea while we wait for Etta to arrive.”
“That wasn’t a promise.”
“The Reeds have always been perceptive too.”
~~~
Etta showed up halfway through my first cup of tea. Old Rossi’s kitchen was state-of-the- art stone and chrome with navy blue accents.
His tea collection covered an entire wall of the kitchen, loose leaves carefully displayed in small glass containers. There had to be a couple thousand dollars worth of tea on those shelves.
After being informed that some of the leaves were rarer than the town, he brewed me a small pot of something that gave off a surprising peach fragrance. His own cup smelled strongly of wood and a deep green that reminded me of rain in the forest.
Etta arrived silently, in that vampire way. “You needed me?”
She wore a hoodie and jeans and was leaner than the last time I’d seen her. Her wide brown eyes were red rimmed and her dark skin seemed pale, the tumbling curls of her hair pulled back in a tight band.
Old Rossi produced another cup that smelled softly of mint and green tea and handed it to her while ushering her over to the island to sit.
She settled across from me. Rossi somehow managed to make where he sat seem like the head of the table.
Etta wrapped long fingers around her cup and stared down at it. Rossi caught my gaze and nodded toward her.
I hated having to talk to the bereaved so close to a death. I usually made Jean come along
with me. She was good at giving comfort, good at somehow making it seem like there was hope when the world was wrapped in darkness.
“I’m sorry about Sven,” I said gently. “And I’m doing everything I can to find out who is behind his death. I have a couple questions. Do you think you could answer them?”
She nodded, still staring at her cup.
“Were you dating?”
Nod.
“When was the last time you saw him?”
Pause, then her mouth curved into a watery sort of smile. “Four days ago.”
“And where were you?”
“My bedroom.” Her eyes flicked my way.
“Okay.” I nodded and took a sip of tea, encouraging her to do the same.
She seemed to notice she had a cup in her hand, then glanced over at Rossi, who also nodded toward her cup. She raised it, took a sip and pulled the cup away for a moment while the tip of her tongue darted across her lower lip. Then she tilted the cup back for a longer drink.
Some of the tension I hadn’t noticed in Old Rossi seemed to drain away. I wondered if anyone had been looking in on Etta or if I needed to make sure someone was taking care of her.
“Have you noticed anyone around him lately who didn’t like him? Anyone who wanted to argue, fight? Anyone who had made threats?”
“He worked as a bouncer,” she said. “He got threats every night.”
“Anything different or unusual?”
She held very still, her cup pressed into her
bottom lip as she inhaled steam through her nose. “He said there were men there...mortal men. At the bar.”
I waited. Plenty of mortals lived in town and a world of them surrounded us. Didn’t sound unusual to me.
“They were quiet. Watched him a lot. Went to the bar every night for a week, drank, but didn’t say much. They weren’t from town.”
That still didn’t seem unusual. Maybe they were in town for a business seminar, or were passing through for a number of other reasons.
“Why did he mention them?”
“He said they smelled funny.”
I tried not to make a weird face. “Okay. How so?”
She shook her head. “He couldn’t explain. But that’s...that’s the only unusual thing he mentioned.”
“Etta,” Old Rossi spoke in a low voice. “Tell us everything.”
I didn’t know if he put any vampire influence behind it, but her eyes flashed and she put her cup down.
“Ryder Bailey was there.”
“Where?” My stomach parachuted to my knees.
“At the bar. He met those men. Sven said he looked surprised to see them, then sat with them. That was...that was the last time the men were at the bar. The last time Sven said anything about them, anyway.”
Her voice faded away to a whisper, or maybe I just lost the ability to hear her clearly over the pounding of my blood. Ryder was there. Ryder was with the suspicious, funny-smelling men. Which meant Ryder was linked to Sven. Again.
I didn’t have to look at Rossi to know what he thought about all this.
Ryder was there. Ryder’s blood was on Sven. Ryder was guilty.
Ryder wasn’t guilty unless proven so. That was my job. To prove or disprove his guilt. It occurred to me that maybe I wasn’t the best person for this job. But who else would be?
Myra and Jean both had opinions on Ryder, on him dumping me. Would they be able to push that aside and treat the case fairly?
No, I could do this. If Ryder was guilty...everything in me tightened, like a deep string in my soul had been plucked. Still, if Ryder was guilty, I could keep a clear head about it. The law, my job came first, no matter what my heart wanted to believe.
“Did Sven mention if Ryder left the bar with them?”