Blood Debt (Judah Black Novels Book 2) (26 page)

I smiled. Last time Ed and I teamed up, he’d gotten both of his legs broken and spent more time passed out in a wheelbarrow than actually kicking ass. Still, he had guts. I knew he’d come if I called, even if the trouble was way out of his league.

That’s why I lied. “Sure, Ed. You know it.”

He nodded, put in the passcode and handed me the phone. “Twenty-five, forty-five. That’s the unlock code.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“More than one,” Ed said with a chuckle and then leaned over. “Anything good?”

I leaned away from Ed and started by going through her texts. Most of the recent ones were to and from Ed but there were a few in there from Annie.
So, she did know her
, I thought, scrolling through the conversation. It didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary until I came to a text mentioning me.

I’m going to be late again,
Mara wrote. The text was dated just days before Annie was killed.

What’s wrong?
Annie replied.

Nothing. Just the director again. He won’t leave me alone. Starting to freak me out.

Holy shit! Call the cops, Mara!

Can’t. I have a fed as a babysitter, remember? She’d butt in all desperate to save the day and shit.

Tell your boyfriend at least.

I don’t want him to worry.

I thought he was a werewolf?

More like a big puppy dog.

Annie replied with several emojis and then added in a separate text.
Watch your back. I’ll get Robbie to handle it.

Thanks, Annie. You’re the best. See you at work.

I searched back through her older texts and found some from a blocked number that set off alarm bells in my head:

I can’t stop thinking about you.

Missed you today so much I looked up where you live. Can I come pick you up?

Did those biker assholes from last night scare you? Call me. I’ll make it up to you. I’m better today.

I can’t even feed without you. All I can think about is what you taste like.

I shivered when I read the last one. There it was, the irrefutable proof Mara had been working for Robbie and someone had been stalking her. She’d been in danger this whole time and hadn’t even brought it up. The boyfriend and the money problems were one thing, but this was real danger. Didn’t she trust me?

Why would she?
I realized.
You killed her parents right in front of her. All you do is lecture at her. She didn’t even tell you she had a boyfriend. Why would she tell you she had a job as a stripper?
As much as I tried, I would never be anything but an over-glorified babysitter to her.

My face must have betrayed my realization. Ed leaned in. “What? What is it? What’d you find?”

Holy hell, what was I supposed to tell Ed? That his girlfriend was a stripper? How could I tell him she was being held hostage by a vampire?

I pushed a button, shutting the phone off and pocketing it. “Thanks for your help,” I said briskly to Ed as I stood.

Ed shot up. “Hold on. Tell me what you found. I know that look.”

“Nothing,” I lied. “I just realized others are also looking for her, is all.”

Ed frowned at me. Given the fierce look he was wearing, I could tell he didn’t buy my story. It didn’t matter. Whatever story he could conjure up in his head wouldn’t be as bad as the truth. He’d lose his shit and go to the pack if he thought Crux had Mara. That would be another mess, more lives to juggle keeping safe.

“I guess,” he offered. I went for the door and Ed followed. Leaning on it, he added, “You do know I’m going to look for her too, right?”

“Stay out of it, Ed,” I warned. “Let me do my job. Please.”

“If it were someone you loved, could you?”

My throat closed. I couldn’t say anything. I went back to my car and ended the trip much as I began it, sitting behind the wheel, worrying about Mara.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Abe’s beat up old pickup truck was already parked at the station when I arrived. Inside, the police presence was especially heavy. As soon as I made it through the front doors of the station, Quincy called my name and jogged up to me, red-faced and sweating.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Is everything okay?”

He tipped his plastic cowboy hat back with a flick of two fingers. “You’d better come with me,” he said and put an arm on my back, gesturing down the hall to the break room.

On the way, I noted most of the desks were empty. The ones that weren’t were crowded, four or five uniforms hovering around them and leaning in as if something important was happening. When I strained my neck and found a gap between people, I saw they were focused on someone holding a cell phone, though I couldn’t make out what was on the screen.

When we made it to the break room, Quincy pushed through the crowd with me in tow and brought me to stand with Tindall. He’d taken off his jacket but still wore his guns in his shoulder holsters. His arms crossed and brow furrowed, he muttered, “Glad you could make it.”

“What is it?” I said, looking at the television. The only thing I could see was the local news broadcast. “What’s happening?”

“Quiet!” Quincy called, holding up his hands. “It’s about to start!”

The news program went on a break and the next thing was a commercial filled with dark, emotionally charged music. The words
WHO DO YOU TRUST
came onto the black screen in white font. After the words faded, some archived footage of a riot in L.A. during the Revelation played. Riot police, armed with tear gas and riot shields, closed on a crowd of protesters.

“I remember this,” I whispered under my breath.

The question about trust reappeared on the screen with some additional words:

WHO DO YOU TRUST WITH YOUR SAFETY?

The next bit of grainy footage was of a police officer beating a protester bloody with his baton.

WHO DO YOU TRUST WITH YOUR CHILDREN?

A teddy bear appeared, the cotton fur singed by fire.

WHO DO YOU TRUST WITH YOUR LIVES?

The screen went back to the riot footage just as the officers fired on the crowd.

WHO DO YOU TRUST TO KEEP CONCHO COUNTY SAFE?

My skin prickled at the next set of footage. It was of Tindall and I standing together outside of Aisling under red and blue police lights. Someone rolled a body bag past while he appeared to be standing by, smoking, and I looked like I was laughing. The footage was doctored, but even the faked footage was damning.

SUPERNATURAL CRIME IS NO LAUGHING MATTER. MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD. A VOTE FOR MAUDE IS A VOTE FOR SAFETY.

WHO DO YOU TRUST?

At the end of the ad, a voice came on and announced it was paid for by the Vanguards of Humanity.

After it aired, the room waited in stunned silence. I was the first to speak. “Jesus, Tindall.”

“He’s been running it all day,” Tindall muttered. “Where the hell did he get that footage?”

I turned to face him. “Is it even of you?”

“Hell no. Doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to be. I was connected to it and he’s going to use it to pool the human vote.” Tindall uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips. “Even if he doesn’t win, he’s going to polarize the shit out of this county, Judah. Last thing this place needs is an us versus them attitude.”

“You’ve got to hit back,” I told Tindall. “Make your own ad. Say exactly that.”

“Shit, Judah. I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Marcus Kelley does,” I pointed out.

“Like that guy isn’t preaching the same damn thing.” He rubbed his temples. “This is going to be a mess come election day. I can see it now. Fights breaking out in the polling lines, someone throws a punch and the other guy responds with a bullet. Dammit. I should just drop out before this goes too far.”

“No!” I grabbed Tindall by the arm. He met my tired and haggard gaze with one of his own. “Division can only triumph when good men stand by and do nothing. He wants you to drop out. Concho County needs you to stay in.”

“We got your back,” said one of the cops in the room and patted Tindall on the shoulder. A chorus of echoes went up as more of them shouted the same.

“You can’t bow out now!” someone else shouted. “The election is in twenty days!”

“Do you really want that blowhard to win without a fight?” I asked Tindall.

He nodded. “You’re right. But I don’t need to stoop to his level and call on Marcus Kelley for a commercial.” Tindall removed his signature fedora and held it up. “Consider this my request for donations. All proceeds go toward making Maude eat his words!”

A cheer and a round of applause went up from the whole station. I reached into my pocket, drew out my wallet and pulled out my last twenty to drop into his hat before passing it on to the next guy. Then, I grabbed Tindall’s hand, patting him on the arm. “Good man,” I said and then slipped back through the crowd.

The station came slowly back to life, officers wandering back toward their desks, phones ringing and papers shuffling. But there was a change in the air, a new unspoken tension. Tindall was right. Even if Maude didn’t win, statements like the ones he’d been making were dangerous. The population of Concho County was still roughly sixty-six percent non-supernatural. If even half of those people fed into what he was saying and decided they were safer if all the supernaturals were gone…I wouldn’t be enough to stop them.

I found the interrogation rooms and peeked inside the first. Sven was in there, waiting patiently. There was an untouched cup of coffee in front of him and an officer across from him, flipping through channels on the television. They stopped on a soap opera. Sven glanced up at it but then turned his attention back to the top of the table.

When I pushed open the door, he looked up. The beat cop stood and I waved him out of the room. As soon as the door shut, Sven started to apologize again.

“It’s okay, Sven,” I said, waving my hand. “You weren’t yourself.”

“And what about my friend?”

I sat in the chair the other cop had been occupying. “Sven, your friend, Tammy, the one you were so afraid would get hurt…Do you know where Crux took her?”

He shook his head back and forth. “I didn’t see her. He only told me he had her. You’re going to help her, right? Master said she’s a bad person, but she was nice to me. She brought me chocolates.”

My heart sank. The only person in the whole world who had ever been nice to Sven, at least to hear him tell it, had been Mara.

I was pretty sure Sven wasn’t cognitively an adult. With his strange, simplistic speech patterns and child-like loyalty to his caretaker, I guessed he had some serious delays. That didn’t mean he didn’t deserve to be treated as a human being. The way Crux treated him wasn’t right. Mara must’ve seen that, too. And now Mara was missing…

“Sven, I know you told me about the missing fae. And this might sound kind of crazy…but do you know anything about…ice giants?”

I was sure Sven would laugh at me. Most sane people would. But Sven didn’t laugh. His eyes widened. “Hrimthursar,” he said. “Yes. I know them. They live in Jotunheim. Mother used to say we had the blood of giants. That’s why I was so big.”

I blinked. “Where did you say you were from?”

“I was born in Uppsala,” he said proudly. “Sweden. But then mother and me came to live with Crux. I loved her stories about the giants. When I was scared, I used to talk to them.”

“Sven, give me your hands.” I extended my hands toward him, palms up.

He eyed them warily. “I’m not supposed to touch girls,” he said, his cheeks turning red.

I offered him a warm smile. “It’s alright. I just need to hold your hands for a minute. You won’t get in trouble. I promise.”

Sven huffed a great breath through his nose. Then, he raised his big, meaty hands and lowered them, palms first, on top of mine. Next to Sven’s enormous fingers, mine looked like twigs. I knew he was big but his size didn’t sink in with me until then. With fists that big, he could have easily squeezed the life out of me earlier. I was thankful he hadn’t.

But I wasn’t touching palms with Sven as a size comparison. I was doing a thorough reading of his aura. With a little effort, I could just look at people and see their auras in a general sense. For a deeper reading, though, physical contact was a necessity. Most of the time, reading auras wasn’t particularly helpful to make or break a case. I didn’t know if it would this time or not, but it would tell me if Sven had any access to magick.

When our palms touched, it felt like jumping into a bathtub with toasters as shoes. An electric charge ran through me, forcing my back to stiffen. If I hadn’t gripped on tight to his hands, I would have fallen out of my chair from the surprise. Even if I’d suspected he was gifted, I hadn’t expected
that
.

Sven had holes in his aura in all the normal vampire feeding places: the neck, the arms and wrists, the chest and over the femoral artery in his leg. To me, it looked as if Crux had stabbed him repeatedly, the wounds pulsating slightly with the rhythm of Sven’s heartbeat. Beyond those holes, Sven’s aura glowed in blinding layers. Gold, indigo and mossy green swirled around him with an intensity hard to look away from. Sven may have been a little slower than many when it came to understanding human interaction, but his innate magickal ability was off the charts.

I closed my eyes, jerked my head to the side and pulled my hands away. How stupid I’d been to overlook him as a suspect before. Sven definitely had the magickal chops to open a gateway to Faerie. What’s more, if what he was saying was true and he did have a giant somewhere in his bloodline—something I’d believe given his height—then there was a reason the giant would have come to his aid. Perhaps the two shared some ancestry. And he had a motive. He was protecting his one and only friend from perceived threats like Harry, who had made her cry, and Kim who had let him.

After a deep breath, I decided to ask him point blank, “Sven, did you send one of those hrimthursar to protect Mara…I mean Tammy?”

“She protected me,” said Sven, lowering his palms to the tabletop. “And she was scared. She wouldn’t tell me but I could tell. She was scared of Harry.”