Blood Law (12 page)

Alex pulled one shoulder free, but her feet remained frozen. “He’s coming for me.”

“Who? Who’s coming for you?”

“Alex.” Dr. Hancock’s voice was low and steady, soothing. “There’s nothing there.”

The corpse raised one arm, reaching for her. Air whistled through the gaping chest wound as it drew a ragged breath.

“Alexandra,”
the phantom voice of her father whispered to her.

“Alex.” Varik shook her gently. “Who’s coming for you?”

The pinpoint starbursts returned, and the room grew dim. Her legs gave way and she fell against Varik as darkness closed around her. “Daddy.”

Tasha’s unmarked squad car rocked with the force of her slamming the door shut. She gripped the steering wheel and stared at the throng of crying families gathered in front of Jefferson Memorial’s emergency entrance. They deserved answers. Unfortunately, she didn’t have any to offer.

Harvey had sent her to the hospital to interview the victims who weren’t critically injured. They’d all said essentially the same thing. “I didn’t see anyone. I don’t know why anyone would do something like this.”

Maggie’s Place was outside the town’s corporate limits, and investigating the shooting fell to the sheriff’s department. He’d requested additional manpower from metro police, since his department was understaffed
due to recent budget cutbacks. The JPD had suffered decreased funding as well, but they’d retained their forensic team.

The irony was that Alex, as an FBPI Enforcer, had the best funding of any law enforcement in the area and access to a state-of-the-art mobile forensic lab. However, Harvey refused to entertain the thought of cooperating with her after Varik’s display in the diner.

“Varik,” Tasha muttered. She didn’t trust him, and it was becoming obvious that relying on Alex for information about him would prove futile. Even though she knew Alex was tight-lipped about her past, Tasha couldn’t help but think there was more to their prior relationship than mentor and trainee. The only other person in Jefferson who would know and who might be willing to talk to her was Stephen.

She made her decision and started the car. She lifted the microphone for her police radio and spoke into it. “Lieutenant Lockwood to Dispatch.”

“Dispatch,” a woman’s voice crackled over the radio. “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“I’m heading to Crimson Swan to follow up on some information with Stephen Sabian. If anyone needs me, page my cell phone.”

“Ten-four,” the woman responded.

“Lockwood, out.” She returned the microphone to the clip attached to the side of the radio. Pulling out of the hospital’s parking lot, she turned west and headed for Crimson Swan.

She wove through the narrow one-way downtown streets and passed through Old Towne, the historical
residential neighborhood of Jefferson that was a strange mix of antebellum mansions, Victorian manors, and 1930s bungalows. Majestic oaks lined the wide streets, casting their graceful moss-laden shadows over perfectly manicured lawns and pristine wrought-iron fences.

Tasha had been born and raised in Jefferson and had always admired Old Towne’s illusion of slower, simpler times. However, that’s all it was—an illusion. A single right turn and two stop signs brought her to Jefferson Boulevard, the commercial heart of the town. She turned left onto the divided four-lane street, and three traffic lights later, she pulled into Crimson Swan’s parking lot.

Stephen’s blue Dodge pickup was one of several vehicles in the lot. Most of the customers would be those vampires who lived in the rural areas of Nassau County but worked within the town’s corporate limits. Even though several hours of daylight remained, as the day drew to a close, more vampires would begin congregating at the bar before going home to their families for the night.

She suppressed a shudder as she reached for one of the wrought-iron handles on the blood bar’s massive double doors. Even though she’d grown up after vampires had gone public, the fact that she was willingly going into the lion’s den still unnerved her. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she threw the door open and entered.

Heads turned and conversations died. Tasha estimated at least a couple dozen eyes in varying shades of
yellow staring at her. All vampires’ eyes changed to a variation of gold when they were under the influence of either blood-hunger or an intense emotion, such as anger. Judging from the hard glares directed at her, she could safely assume an even mix of the two in the bar’s patrons.

She walked forward, hoping her legs weren’t shaking too badly for anyone to notice. A few humans, including a dark-haired woman behind the counter, watched her with curiosity before turning back to their vampire companions and conversations. Bars always made her feel vulnerable, regardless of whether they served humans or vampires. Ever since she stopped drinking ten years ago, she hadn’t set foot in a bar outside of official business. Her visit to Crimson Swan was official business—at least that’s what she told herself. Looking around at the dim lights, classic movie monster décor, and silent vampires, she wondered again if she was doing the right thing.

Stephen emerged from the back of the building carrying a heavy beer keg in each hand as easily as she’d carry a six-pack of soda. The kegs thumped against the wooden floor when he set them down, and conversation returned although at a much lower volume. He saw her and waved her over. “Tasha, I’m so glad you’re here. I heard about Alex and the shooting. I tried her cell phone, but she didn’t answer. No one at the hospital will give me any information. I’m going out of my mind here.”

“She’s fine. The bullet just grazed her arm.”

He sighed and slumped against the bar’s counter,
head resting on his arms. He remained there for several seconds before straightening and running a hand through his thick curls. “That’s a relief. Thanks for stopping by to let me know.”

“You’re welcome, but actually, that’s not why I’m here.”

“I see.” He grinned, showing sharp white fangs that were larger than Alex’s. “I paid my speeding tickets. I swear.”

“I need some information.”

“About the shooting?”

“Not exactly. Think you could help me?”

Stephen shrugged. “I can try.”

She looked over her shoulder and then back to him. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”

One blond eyebrow arched, but he gestured for her to follow him. “Janet,” he addressed the human woman manning the bar. “I’ll be in my office for a while if you need me.”

The woman nodded as she filled a large glass with a mixture of blood, vodka, and hot sauce while an anxious-looking vampire watched.

Tasha quickened her step, eager to place some distance between herself and the vampires who continued to surreptitiously stare at her. She and Stephen entered a narrow hallway lined with doors. As they passed, she thought she heard moaning coming from behind a few.

Stephen seemed to notice a question on her face and answered before she voiced it. “Private donor rooms,” he explained. “It’s only when I hear screaming that I worry.”

She stopped in mid-stride, mouth agape.

He laughed. “Relax, I’m joking.” They’d reached the end of the hall, and he opened a door that was next to last on the right side. “See for yourself.”

Unable to suppress her curiosity, she peered around the doorjamb, and most of the tension left her body.

A male vampire who looked as though he could easily bench-press a small car sat in front of a wall of flickering black-and-white monitors.

“Josh,” Stephen said, leaning against the opened door and gesturing to the other vampire, “monitors all the private rooms as well as the common bar area and parking lot. Nothing happens in or around Crimson Swan without us knowing.”

Josh nodded to her as his fangs crunched through a Doritos tortilla chip. “Everything’s quiet, boss,” he slurred, spewing a few bright orange crumbs as he spoke. He waved another chip at the monitors. “Only three rooms in use, and they’re all behaving themselves. No signs of the HSM nuts, either.”

Stephen straightened. “Good.” He reached for the door and began closing it. “Let me know if you do see any.”

Tasha saw Josh salute them with one more chip before the door closed completely. “Having some kind of trouble?”

Stephen crossed the hall to the last door on the left and opened it. He flipped on the light and sighed. “Tubby Jordan and some of his people were here this morning. I was getting ready to call the cops to remove them when they suddenly packed up and left.”

Nathaniel “Tubby” Jordan was the founder and pastor for Holy Word Church, a nondenominational congregation with questionable affiliations—several of the church’s members were known associates of various vampire hate groups, including Blood Brothers and the Human Separatist Movement. He’d gained the “Tubby” nickname after acquiring a large belly as a result of too many Sundae Revival Ice Cream Socials at his church.

She’d known Tubby ever since he’d moved to Jefferson from out west a few years ago. While she didn’t agree with many of his beliefs, she respected him as a community leader who’d done a lot of good in the town in a short amount of time. Even so, his antics were nothing new to her, and it was out of a relationship born of mutual respect that she’d convinced Alex not to arrest Tubby and some of his followers when they chained themselves in protest to the bar’s framework while it was under construction.

Since that time, Tubby and his “flock” continued to regularly protest both the existence of Crimson Swan, which they called a “mockery of God’s house” because of its resemblance to a church, and vampires in general. Unless they became physically violent or otherwise damaged property, which they never had, the First Amendment protected their right to speak their minds. Even so, she knew the source of their anger, and a tiny part of her agreed with their mockery charge.

However, Tubby wasn’t the reason why she followed Stephen into his office.

Wood paneling and certificates of outstanding achievement in sales from the Vlad’s Tears Corporation
covered the walls. She’d forgotten that Stephen was once the southwest Mississippi regional sales manager for VTC. Once she became accustomed to thinking of someone in a certain way, it always seemed like a minor shock to either be reminded of some element of their past or discover something new. Like Alex’s relationship with Varik Baudelaire.

“So,” Stephen began, as he sank into a leather executive’s chair behind a pristine desk, “what kind of information are you in the market for?”

Tasha eased into a chair opposite him, avoiding the overstuffed leather sofa. “I need to know whatever you can tell me about Varik Baudelaire.”

A change swept over Stephen. His smile disappeared, and his mood visibly darkened. “Why?”

“Because I don’t trust the son of a bitch.”

“You shouldn’t. Varik’s after one thing and one thing only—Alex.” He eyed her for a moment, rubbing the knuckles of his right hand. “Is Alex still pissed at me?”

“Why would she be pissed at you?”

“She didn’t tell you that I punched Varik?”

“Alex hasn’t been in a talkative mood today.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. Varik’s a bit of a touchy subject where she’s concerned.”

Tasha propped her elbow on the chair’s arm and cupped her chin with her palm. “Alex wasn’t real clear on their connection, aside from Varik being her mentor when she joined the Bureau.”

“It goes deeper than that, much deeper. They were engaged.”

“That would explain why Varik roughed up Harvey when he called Alex a bloodsucking whore.”

“Varik’s protective of Alex. All male vampires are protective of females. It’s ingrained in our genetic makeup to be protective.”

“A real alpha-male syndrome.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Stephen swiveled his chair so she saw only his profile. The overhead lighting, although dim, bounced off the framed certificates along the wall and brought out the lighter platinum highlights in Stephen’s golden curls.

Tasha watched him, waiting, and thought it was easy to forget he was a vampire when he wasn’t staring at her. He was just another handsome guy until he smiled and showed his fangs. “Look, Stephen, I don’t know what is happening with Alex, but Varik seems intent on keeping me out of the loop.”

“He’s good at that sort of thing.”

“I’m just trying to understand what’s going on.”

“I really shouldn’t—”

“Varik looked like he was getting awfully chummy with her when they left Maggie’s Place together.” She hated to manipulate Stephen, but she needed to know what was going on between the two Enforcers. If either of them did anything to compromise the investigation, the FBPI would want answers from all those involved, including her, and she didn’t intend to find herself on the wrong end of a vampire inquisition.

Stephen gripped the arms of his chair tightly, and Tasha could hear the wooden frame groaning beneath the leather. When he finally swiveled back to face her,
his eyes shone with a controlled anger. “What I’m about to tell you can never leave this bar. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“If Alex finds out I told you, she’ll roast me alive. Not to mention the fact that I’m breaking a host of community taboos by talking about this with a human.”

“You have my word that I’ll never repeat anything you tell me.”

“You’ve seen the scar on Alex’s neck?”

How could she miss it? It was a jagged slash cutting diagonally across Alex’s skin, extending from just behind her left ear to the top of her collarbone. Tasha had estimated once that it was about six inches in length and nearly a quarter of an inch at its widest point. “Yeah.”

Stephen took a deep breath and said in a rush, “Varik attacked Alex.”

Tasha’s eyes widened. She’d expected to hear about a bad breakup, maybe a public no-holds-barred argument, but this scenario had never crossed her mind.

“Damn near killed her, actually. If I hadn’t shown up when I did, he probably would’ve succeeded.”

“Why would he—what caused—”

“He’d been injured that day during a raid on an illegal donor operation. He needed blood but was too stubborn to admit it.” Stephen picked up a pen from his desk and began toying with it. “Alex was at home. She’d taken the day off and was cooking when Varik came in. They were both in the kitchen, talking, and Alex accidentally cut herself.”