“I am aware Stewart feels that way. But I don’t believe he’s correct.”
“Why do you think you and he are not in accord?”
Susan huffed her annoyance but Rowan needed to handle this herself.
“I believe that he, like most people, would rather take the easy solution than pursue the complicated one. I’m sure he wishes this were the truth and he’s taking a gamble it will be.” Rowan shrugged. “But I can’t afford to live in the land of make-believe. Every instinct I have, as well as common sense, tells me the Vampire sent after me was a ploy, a poorly planned one at that. He was old, but not that old, and not very smart. He died decently enough, but the kill of the White woman was something more than run-of-the mill Vampire violence.”
Rowan shook her head once, hard. “Rossinni wasn’t the killer. I’ll stake my reputation on that.”
Celesse studied her for long moments and then sniffed delicately before one of those Gallic shrugs. “I believe you’re correct.”
“Keep us apprised.” Susan shuffled the papers into the file before looking to the screen again. “Thank you for your service, Rowan.”
And with that, she turned the screen off and slumped in her chair.
“Déesse, you need to rest.”
“I know, I know. Thank you, David.”
Chapter Ten
The next morning Rowan walked out the front glass doors and headed toward her car. Instead she saw the cab and the life went out of her. Shit, Crazy Carl the taxi man.
She looked longingly at her pretty red Porsche and then back to the beat-up cab. Carl grinned and winked beneath the brim of his ratty orange cowboy hat. A grizzled handlebar mustache, the color of mud, punctuated his upper lip. He nearly always wore wraparound sunglasses but she’d seen his eyes once or twice. Enough to know they were pale, pale green.
“Hey there, Margie! Come on for a ride. I got a few new pieces for you to check out.”
She sighed and looked to David, who quickly covered his mouth with his fingers.
Carl hopped out and opened her door as she slid into the backseat of his cab and tried very hard not to stare at the stuffed baby somethingorother he’d attached to his dash. Whateverthefuck it was, it had a stuffed snake in its mouth. This had long day written all over it.
He got in and peeled out of the drive, swerving on a wide arc onto Las Vegas Boulevard. As per usual, there seemed to be no traffic to impede him until he got settled in to talk.
The whole interior of the taxi held a menagerie of stuffed dead things. Carl, in addition to being some kind of scribe, was also an amateur taxidermist. Stuffed snakes slithered along the backs of the seats, rodents of all sorts danced around and teeth hung from the rearview mirror.
Rowan knew better than to rush him. He’d get to the point in his own time and not a second before. She’d gotten into Carl’s cab for the first time six years before and had tried to get right back out when the face of a small coyote leered at her over the seat. Carl had chuckled and locked the doors. He’d also told her, in his own roundabout, rambling way, she’d be staying in Vegas.
And so he showed up from time to time, could be a year between sightings and then three weeks in a row. Carl had his own schedule and his own way of delivering wisdom. While he may not always have been one hundred percent clear, he’d never been wrong.
Rowan didn’t know what he was or even who he was, and he never got her name right. But despite her annoyance, she had deep affection for Crazy Carl and respected him, too.
Instead of speaking, he played the soundtrack to Xanadu and she knew without a doubt she’d be hearing ELO and Olivia Newton John in her head for days.
They hit traffic near the Mandalay Bay and she leaned back. He turned the music off and took a deep breath. “You got a birthday coming up if I recall.”
“Yes. In February.” She hoped all this bullshit with Vampire killers would be over by then.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, he spoke again. “Spending time with your kin is important. So many people only get to see one side of you. It’s good to remember all your facets. And I never did know any girl who didn’t like presents. And you, Carla, well if any lady needed some presents it’s you.”
Anyone but Carl and she’d wonder if he was insulting her.
He tapped a giant, mean-looking stuffed snake he’d artfully posed dangling from the mouth of the thing on his dash. “I went camping with my youngest last weekend, saw a diamondback. Course he—my son, not the snake—was such a pussy, cried like a girl when I grabbed it with the stick and held it out for him to look at. Takes after his mother that way I ’spose. Anyway, it’s there right in front of you. Head the size of my boot!” He chuckled and Rowan leaned in slightly to look at the snake for a moment.
“Very nice. I thought your sons wouldn’t go camping with you anymore.”
“Told them I had cancer. My oldest wouldn’t come anyway but the younger one fell for it. Now he’s pretty hacked off at me. You’d think he’d have been relieved to know I didn’t really have cancer. Stomped back to the car and slept in it all night long.”
Rowan met a slice of his eyes just above the sunglasses in the rearview and shook her head at him while grinning. She’d thought her own upbringing was insane but with Carl for a dad? She couldn’t imagine how much money those boys would spend on therapy. She’d once asked him why he could have children if he wasn’t human and he’d just snorted and called her Mavis for the next hour.
“Well, I’m glad you don’t have cancer, Carl. I’m also glad I never have to go camping with you. I like luxury and the fact that no one shoves snakes in my face at midnight.”
“You’re no fun. You should come out with me sometime.”
“I’ll have to take a pass on that. I like running water, expensive sheets and room service. But I’d be happy to buy you a drink or dinner.”
“Rhoda, I’ve been seeing mountain lions just north of the city. You know how rare that is? Still, ya gotta be careful. Even when you think you know the terrain and the animals won’t hurt ya unless you hurt them, they’re still predators. Predators know one thing. To hunt and kill. Sometimes the only way to deal with that is to hunt and kill them first, even if they are awesome creatures. Can’t fuss about anything being what it’s meant to be. Can’t change it. You can only end it.” He paused as if to appreciate the idea as she focused on everything he’d said, and not said.
Rowan’s breathing slowed. She wanted to ask him to clarify but she knew he wouldn’t. Sages did what they did and there was no cross examination or Wikipedia entry for it.
He met her eyes in the mirror briefly. “Thing about hunting is you have to trust your gut. I expect you know that. Tough girl like you, though, thinks her brain knows more than her gut. Perhaps they’ve trained you to believe so. Sometimes it’s the best way to be. Not now though.” He put the car in Park and, startled, she looked up to discover they’d returned to the drive in front of the hotel.
“Here you are, Sally. Have yourself a real good day. Twelve fifty, please.”
Shaking her head to clear it, she thrust a twenty at him, and squeezed his hand when he took it. “Keep it.”
He grinned. “You’re a good girl. Watch your back and don’t forget that the closer you are to home, the more dangerous your path gets.” He let go of her hand and some tourists glared at her until she got out. Good luck to ’em. Carl turned on the stereo and suddenly Willie Nelson’s voice filled the space beneath the awning as he cackled and drove off.
“Is everything all right?” David approached.
“I guess. He said a lot. Some of it I understand. Some I won’t until whatever he’s warning me about springs on me.” She shrugged. “He warned me about the Vampire I’m hunting. So at least he believes I haven’t found the killer yet. How long was I gone?” She noticed the sun had begun to set.
“Nearly five hours.”
“Oh no! I missed brunch at Thena and Martin’s.”
“I called them fo
r you, Déesse. Ms. Thena told me to inform you they’d make it dinner instead.”
“Thank you, David. I’ll be going now. Please take the evening off. Tomorrow too. I need to do some work so I’m going to hunker down here for a while.”
He smiled, tipping his head in thanks and she took off for Thena’s.
“Thank Goddess those scratches are nearly healed.” Thena put more potatoes on Rowan’s plate as Martin poured more wine into her glass.
“I’d have gone postal if they’d left a scar. I suppose carrying holy water around is good for more than just maiming Vampires.”
Rowan told them about Carl’s ride and briefly about the fight with Clive, sans the hot, furtive, guilty sex-on-the-desk part.
“What aren’t you saying?” Thena narrowed her eyes.
“He’s a self-righteous prick. The Vampire who attacked me yesterday was sent by the killer. This killer isn’t going to be stupid enough to come to me himself. You’d think one as old as the Scion would know that. They’re his own people, after all. Also he was easy to slay. Hello, this guy I’m looking for is not going to die easy.” She shoved half a roll in her mouth and let the carbs soothe her anger.
“They’re his people but he’s not like this killer. For whatever else his crimes, what I hear is that this Vampire Scion is an honorable sort. For a Vampire anyway. He would do his own dirty work, or at the very least hire a decent assassin. But the real question is, why are you so upset he doesn’t believe you?”
“What do you know about it?” Rowan glared at Thena.
“Oh I know you’re not getting an attitude with me, missy.” Thena raised one brow and Martin chuckled, relaxing to watch the interplay between them.
“I’ll give you an attitude if I want to.” Rowan snorted and swatted away the pea that landed in her hair. “It’s the typical Vampire bullshit. He thinks he’s so superior with his designer suits and hand-sewn Italian loafers. A human couldn’t possibly know more than he does. He’s dismissed my opinion—my expertise—out of hand because I’m not a Vampire. I don’t tell him how to make investments, do I? He shouldn’t tell me how to hunt lawbreakers. We all have our own special skill set. The only way he’s going to see the light is when another body shows up and I hate that.”
Thena dropped her fork and grabbed Rowan’s hands. “You’re fucking him. Girl, you like playing with fire don’t you? Oh my Goddess. Not gonna lie, I’ve seen his picture and it’s not like I can’t understand why you’d nail him. How is he? Don’t even tell me he didn’t make you come and come.”
Heart beating wildly, Rowan hoped she didn’t look as guilty as she felt. “I am not!” Technically true, as she meant she wasn’t going to tell Thena he had, indeed, made her come with barely even a touch of his fingers. Rowan yanked her hands back and wiped them on her pants. Thena wouldn’t ever use her magicks to persuade Rowan to share something, not short of an apocalyptic emergency, but she was still intuitive. “Ew! In case you hadn’t noticed, he’s a Vampire. I don’t do Vampires.”
Gaze narrowed, Thena looked her over and then snorted. “You are so totally lying. But fine, I’ll play your game for now. You’ll come to me soon enough and then you will tell me every last juicy detail about what he’s like in bed. In the meantime, I don’t need to remind you how dangerous this could be for you—you know, if you are lying, which I know you are, about having fuckytimes with the Scion.”
Rowan rolled her eyes but breathed an inner sigh of relief that Thena was letting the subject go. She wasn’t ready to think about it much less discuss it with her friend. She didn’t want it to be so exciting. Didn’t want the memory of how he’d felt deep within her to make her shiver. She should hate him. She should hate herself for not hating him and what his people had done to her and her family.
She couldn’t seem to control that. But she could keep her ass as far away from him as possible to avoid a repeat. No matter how much it made her tingle.
Chapter Eleven
Damn the woman. Clive shoved a hand through his hair and clicked the phone shut as he got her voice mail yet again. She’d been ducking his calls for the last six weeks.
He knew she was in town. He’d seen her here and there, heard she’d been checking in on the Vampyre Theater crew. She was avoiding him, plain and simple.
Probably in a snit because he’d been right about the killer being the Vampire she’d slain in the desert. Or maybe because of his ridiculously quick job when they’d had sex on the desk of his office at Fleur.
He sighed at that memory. At his stupidity and lack of control when it came to her. Normally he was far smoother with women, but she tested him sorely. It was certainly her fault he rushed through it all.
Not that it would happen ever again. It was a stupid, stupid mistake, one he would not repeat. But he still needed to check in with her.
He turned his head at the sound of Alice tapping on his door. “Yes, come in.”
The look on her face told him he wasn’t going to be happy with her news.
Rowan looked at the caller ID on her cell phone and sighed. Clive. She’d been ducking him and Jack both for the last month and a half. Clive more successfully than Jack.
Jack hadn’t liked what she had to say when she told him she’d tracked down his vic and her family in Barstow. There was a fight. He’d been beyond pissed off that she’d gone without telling him until afterward.
But she missed Jack. Missed his company and having dinner with him. Missed his obsession with NASCAR and basketball. Just missed him plain and simple.
Worse, she’d sort of missed Clive’s arrogant British accent and the way he smelled. She was so fucked up.
Giving in, she picked up the line. “What?”
“Oh to hear those dulcet tones again, dear Hunter. You’ve been avoiding me.”
“You’re not important enough to me to avoid.” Thank Goddess he couldn’t hear her heart speed up at the lie.
“Mmm-hmm. Well, as much as it pains me to admit, you may have been correct about Rossinni not being the killer.”
“There’s been another murder.” Her voice was flat as rage, cold and focused, centered her. Suddenly all her tingly bits stopped their dancing and she wanted to kill something.
“Yes. I’m calling you because my people picked up the information on the police scanners. It appears to be the same situation as before.”
Before she could give in to her anger and scream at his useless ass over the phone, she simply hung up on him and began to get ready to leave the penthouse.
Her phone rang again but when she saw it was Clive she ignored it and let it go to voice mail. She wished she’d had the forethought to leave him a special fuck-you message. Maybe later, before bed.
She quickly dialed Mary, her source at the police station, and arranged to meet with her at their usual spot and then Carey to let him know they’d be working late that night and to meet her at the office.
Mary’s face was pale, even in the reddish tint of the lights of the bar. Pain marked her features, etched into her face.
Here at least, she could ease and help. Rowan sat and drew the other woman’s hands into her own. Healing, one of her gifts from the Goddess, would be welcome here. She couldn’t turn back time, or save whoever was murdered, but she could offer Mary some solace.
“It must be very bad.” Rowan’s voice was soft, gentle as she sent her power like a warm caress from her grasp into the other woman.
The tautness of Mary’s features eased slightly. “I haven’t seen it all. I don’t have a lot for you right now because it’s still very new. They found the body three hours ago. But it’s similar to the other victim. Drained of all blood. But she…” Mary shuddered. “She’s been torn up. They’re trying to say it was ritual mutilation but, pardon my saying so, I’ve seen ritual mutilation a time or two and this isn’t it. So much rage, Rowan.”
“Ripped up? Like with teeth?”
“Her chest was ripped open like last time. But it looks like someth
ing took big bites out of her. Something with very sharp canines.” Mary looked at Rowan, her fear giving way to professionalism. “You’ll find this monster and take care of him.” It wasn’t a question.
Rowan nodded. “Will you get me the reports when they come in? Was she sexually assaulted? On drugs? Do we know who she is?”
“There’s been a rush put on everything. She’d been dead for a day or so they think. I’ll call Carey or you when I get everything. The file contains preliminary notes and some scene pictures. It’s very near where the last body was found.”
“Thank you for your service, Mary. Be well and I hope your pain is lessened. This murder is not on your hands. But I will make sure the monster responsible is taken care of.”
Rowan stood, brushing her lips across the temple of the acolyte who’d been such a help.
She tried not to speed to her office where she knew Carey waited for her. She was surprised to see Cindy there on a Saturday. Clearly she’d been out the night before given the hangover face, but Rowan would take any help she could get right then.
Carey’s face remained solemn as she briefed him but when Cindy left to go pick up a late lunch he let out a long sigh. “So, bet you’re pretty pissed off at the Scion right about now.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate being right and all, because well, that’s a given. But I don’t appreciate having another human woman dying at this freak’s hands because Clive underestimated me.”
But what bugged her the most was how much she wanted, and needed to be at the scene right then but couldn’t because it would be thick with cops. Rowan would need to wait until the very late night to go, maybe even the following day. The positive was that Mary would get her the rest of the info as it came in. But it wasn’t the same as seeing it herself.
Cindy brought the food in, actually pitching in with copying and some basic data entry as they ate. Maybe they should use her more often for help with the investigative stuff. She wasn’t entirely useless, though she was terribly lazy. But Carey hadn’t been as driven when Rowan first met him either.