city of dragons 03 - fire magic (14 page)

The doctor smiled. “Right there. Sounds great. Really strong.” She paused, listening and counting. “Yup, that’s right in range. One hundred fifty beats a minute. I have to tell you, Penny, everything seems fine here.”

“But if it were… oh, I don’t know, an evil baby, we wouldn’t know from its heartbeat,” I said.

The doctor laughed. “An evil baby? Really?”

“Well, its father was…” But then I looked up at Lachlan. “Of course, if it’s some sort of vampire baby…” I turned back to the doctor. “The drinking blood thing is really okay?”

“There’s nothing in animal blood that could hurt you or the baby necessarily. I’d prefer if you boiled it, though. Just like rare meat, there can be parasites that aren’t killed when refrigerated.”

“Boiled blood,” I muttered, making a face.

“It’s actually better warm,” said Lachlan.

My nostrils flared. “Still.”

“Try not to worry,” said the doctor. “That doesn’t do you or the baby any good.”

Easy for her to say. She wasn’t possibly carrying the world’s first vampire-dragon hybrid.

* * *

“You,” said Richard Remington, narrowing his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Lachlan and I were standing at the door to Fletcher’s home. Richard was on the stoop. He came outside and shut the door behind him, pointedly not asking us inside.

“We came to ask you some questions,” said Lachlan.

“About?” said Richard. “I thought you’d caught the bastard that killed Fletcher. Let him get away, of course, like the incompetent scum you are, but you can’t still be trying to pin my own son’s murder on me.”

“Oh, no,” said Lachlan. “Truthfully, you were never really a serious suspect for me. I made some intimations to see how you reacted, and then I dropped that line of reasoning.”

“To pick up with my other son,” said Richard. “You nearly gave him an ulcer, thinking that he was going to be arrested for murder. And he has quite an unfortunate problem with food. Eats when anxious, you know. The damage you’ve caused this family is unfathomable.”

Oh, right. I had forgotten about Finn Remington’s claim that he was a binge eater. That had actually been his alibi, hadn’t it? The reason he couldn’t have killed his twin brother?

“You know that Fletcher’s murderer was recaptured, of course,” said Lachlan. “Why you’re playing dumb about it, I can’t understand, but I’m sure the department informed you. That was the entire purpose of running the DNA on those dragons in the first place. To inform family members about the plights of their loved ones.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Richard. “They found Alastair Cooper?”

“They did,” said Lachlan, surveying him through narrow eyes.

“And is he locked up?”

Lachlan scrutinized Richard. “Alastair is dead,” he said slowly.

“Dead?” Richard drew in a deep breath. Then he put his hand to his mouth. “Dead,” he whispered.

Lachlan waited.

Richard squared his shoulders. “How? How did it happen?”

“He was shot with an arrow,” said Lachlan.

“A slayer got him?”

“That was the original opinion of the authorities,” said Lachlan. “But the truth is, it’s now up in the air who did it.”

Richard took another deep breath. “Dead. He’s dead. The bastard who killed my little boy to give him magic is gone.” His eyes looked shiny. He nodded at Lachlan. “Thank you for letting me know. I’m not saying that I like you or anything, because I don’t, but I appreciate knowing.”

“Uh, you’re welcome.” Lachlan looked confused.

“But that’s not why you came to see me, is it?” Richard started laughing. “You’re here to accuse me of murder again, aren’t you? You think I killed Alastair.”

Lachlan cleared his throat. “Do you happen to have an alibi for the night he disappeared?”

Richard just shook his head at us. “You’re vultures, that’s what you are. Vultures.” And then he stalked back into his house and slammed the door in our faces.

* * *

“That makes no sense,” said Lachlan. “None. He had to have known about Alastair. Doesn’t everyone know? It was all over the news when he went missing. He’s a multi-millionaire mogul. Then, he’s dead, and it’s not news.”

We were parked outside Bertram Kingsley’s house, ready to go and talk to him some more. But we had been discussing Richard Remington’s reaction on the drive over.

I furrowed my brow. “I don’t remember it being on the news. Maybe the police didn’t release the information?”

He sighed. “He had to have known. And damn it if he didn’t make me feel guilty back there, when all I did was my job. I had to look into anyone suspicious. I had to find his son’s murderer. And Finn looked good for it. He looked really good.”

“No, I know that,” I said. I reached over and patted his knee. “You can’t eliminate family members from a murder investigation.”

Lachlan ripped off his sunglasses. “He knew about Alastair. He’s playing dumb to supply an alibi. He can’t have killed Alastair if he didn’t know he was dead.”

“Well, maybe he didn’t know,” I said. “I mean, I think that the reason that the news picked up on Alastair being missing so quickly was because his family was worried. And if the department didn’t notify his family, which it sounds like maybe they didn’t, because they don’t care about dragons, like you said—”

“Alastair was high profile,” said Lachlan. “There were dead police and a burning house, and that’s why the news picked up on it.”

“Well, a DNA test isn’t high profile,” I said.

Lachlan pointed at me with his sunglasses. “You really think he didn’t know?”

“I’m just saying it’s possible is all,” I said.

“Well, if he really didn’t know, then he’s obviously not the killer.”

I pursed my lips. “I guess that’s true.”

He jammed his sunglasses inside his suit jacket and threw open the door to the car.

“Lachlan?” I called after him.

He was already halfway to Bertram Kingsley’s front door.

I got out of the car and followed him.

Bertram opened the door after the first knock. “You’re back,” he said, skipping the pleasantries.

“Because you lied about where you were the night Alastair Cooper disappeared,” said Lachlan.

Bertram folded his arms over his chest. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” said Lachlan, “that you didn’t show up to the Grand that night. So, let’s talk about how you did it, shall we?”

“I didn’t kill Alastair,” said Bertram.

“No?” said Lachlan.

Bertram eyed me. “Didn’t you do it? Wasn’t he smacking you around?”

“I didn’t kill him,” I said evenly.

Bertram shook his head. “This is such bullshit. It’s none of your business, you know?”

Lachlan smiled thinly. “You went to his house, you saw it was on fire, and you saw him jump out the window into the bay. Then what did you do?”

“I wasn’t there!” said Bertram. “That didn’t happen.”

“Tell the truth, Mr. Kingsley.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“Have you ever read ‘The Tell-tale Heart,’ by Edgar Allan Poe?”

Bertram was thrown. “Uh… I think maybe in middle school or something. That’s the one where the guy thinks that he hears the beating of the body in the floorboards, but it’s really his own heart?”

“Yes, exactly,” said Lachlan. “You haven’t gotten away with this, Mr. Kingsley. Your own tell-tale heart is beating. The lie you told. It shows us, sure as anything, that you are actually guilty.”

“I didn’t kill him,” said Bertram. “I swear to God. Look, okay, I wasn’t at that stupid benefit.”

“We’ve already established that.”

“But not because I was killing Alastair. I don’t even know where his house is. I never went there.”

“So where were you?” said Lachlan. “At home, alone?”

“No,” said Bertram. “No, I was with… a person.”

“A person?” I broke in. “Can you be more vague?”

“Look, do I have to tell you who this person was?” said Bertram. “Are you going to go visit this person?”

“We’ll contact him or her to verify your alibi,” said Lachlan.

Bertram rubbed his forehead. “My wife doesn’t even know I wasn’t at that benefit. If I tell you this, is she going to find out?”

Lachlan and I exchanged a glance.

Bertram sighed. “I thought it would be enough, you know? Because when you feel that bond…” He turned to look at me. “You know what I’m talking about, right? You stayed with Alastair for years, even though he was probably the worst person I ever met. But you loved him.”

“You’re having an affair,” I said, feeling deflated. “What’s her name? We’ll call her and we’ll confirm it.”

Bertram laughed a little. “His name is Peter.”

Lachlan looked surprised.

I nodded my head slowly. “Oh. I’m very sorry, Bertram. Really.”

Lachlan gave me a funny look.

“Listen,” said Bertram, “I’m not the only person who was angry with Alastair. From what I hear, his sister was furious that he’d besmirched the family name.”

* * *

“Elizabeth, right?” said Lachlan, back in the car. “That’s Alastair’s sister? You liked her for the Dragon Slasher case.”

“I was wrong about that,” I said. “Very wrong.”

“Well, you think it’s possible that she hurt her brother?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t see her shooting a bow and arrows. She wasn’t a very active person.”

“Maybe she hired someone,” said Lachlan.

“I’d spoken to her on the phone earlier that night,” I said. “I called her to talk Alastair down. I was afraid he was going to kill me.”

“So, she was aware that he was out of control,” said Lachlan.

“It wouldn’t hurt to check her out, I guess,” I said. “But if she hired someone, she’d have an alibi. How would we track that?”

“One thing at a time,” he said, backing the car up and pulling out onto the road. “Hey, what was all that about you being sorry for Bertram Kingsley?”

“It’s a particularly horrible thing about the dragon bond,” I said. “It’s not, um, sensitive to sexual preference.”

Lachlan raised his eyebrows. “What’s that mean?”

“I actually had a friend,” I said. “He was in a really serious relationship with another dragon. A male dragon. They were over the moon for each other. But then his lover found his mate. The mating bond kicked in, and his lover left him. For a woman.”

Lachlan pulled the car to a stop as we came to a red light. We were turning left to go back south on Atlantic Avenue. “So, if you’re gay, you still get mated to a woman? And it still works?”

“What do you mean by works?”

“Well, it makes you straight?”

“No,” I said. “It just makes you crazily sexually attracted to your mate. To one woman.”

“That’s all it takes, though, right?”

“Well, it clearly isn’t enough, though. Look at Bertram.”

Lachlan considered. “That dragon bond thing is kind of horrible.”

I shrugged. “It works out okay for most people. They’re head over heels for each other.”

The light changed. Lachlan pulled the car out. “Yeah, I guess so. But I think it’s weird. Like arranged marriage or something.”

“With an added biological aphrodisiac,” I said.

“Seriously, what was it like for you? Before you met Alastair, did you ever meet anyone else?”

I shrugged. “Sure, I guess. But I didn’t take anything seriously back then. I was a completely different person. I was kind of a spoiled brat.”

He smirked. “I doubt that. You’ve got a big heart, Penny, and you didn’t just grow that out of nowhere. Haven’t you known Felicity since before you knew Alastair?”

“Well, yeah,” I said. “I don’t know.” I peered out the window.

“You told me before that Alastair made you think horrible things about yourself. Is it you saying you were a brat or him?”

I sighed. “I don’t know anymore.”

“Well, I don’t think you should say it at all.”

I turned back to him, giving him a small smile. “Okay. Maybe I’ll try not to.”

He flashed a smile at me—one of his brilliant movie-star smiles—and then he went back to the road.

We drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

After a couple minutes, he shot me another look. “Hey, you, um, you doing okay? You need to stop somewhere for food or anything?”

I giggled. “I’m fine. We didn’t eat that long ago.”

“Yeah, okay.”

I twisted my hands together in my lap. “Um… look, I don’t have to get the paternity test.”

He turned to look at me. “What?”

The car swerved.

“Lachlan!”

He corrected. “Fuck!” he said. “Sorry. But why would you say that? We need to know that. It’s really important to know.”

“Is it?” I said. “You said to me earlier that you wanted to be an uncle or a friend to the baby, and even if—”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” He made a rueful face and gripped the steering wheel.

“It makes a difference if it’s Alastair’s or not, huh? I mean, I can see why it would, and I—”

“It shouldn’t make a difference,” he said. “It’s not about that, anyway.”

“It’s not?”

“I keep thinking I can’t get too attached to the idea of it, you know? Because I think about how much it hurt to lose Hailey, and I just don’t think I could handle it if that happened again.”

“Oh,” I said. “I know how that is. Because until I found out about the thing with the shifting, I thought it was really likely I’d have another miscarriage. Even now, I’m not sure if I should really accept it.”

“When I drank your blood, and we felt it…” His voice was soft. “It reached out of us. It was like it wanted me to pick it up, to hold it, to
claim
…” He sucked in a breath. “Yeah, I’m just terrified of that.”

“Well, nothing has to change,” I said. “If you don’t want to be the father of the baby, you don’t have to be. Even if you, you know, technically are. I can do this. I don’t need—”

“Me? You don’t need me?” He let out a bitterly tinged laugh. “Thanks for that, Penny.”

“I wasn’t going to say I didn’t need you.”

“You were going to say something that meant that, though.”

“You don’t want to be needed,” I said. “Didn’t you just say that you didn’t want to claim the baby?”

“Want?” he repeated. “It’s not about what I want. Because what I want is to take you and me and the baby someplace safe. I want to be the thing that keeps the monsters away from you. But you… you’re the one who takes on the monsters. You don’t even ask for my help. Not even when you’re pregnant. So, yeah, I guess you’re right. You don’t need me.”