Hex Appeal (26 page)

The night shift was the busy time at HQ, like Monday morning anywhere else, but there was some kind of old-country holiday with an unpronounceable name on. The phone rang and rang before someone finally picked up. I got an audible gasp—not common when dealing with people who don’t breathe all the time—when I asked to speak to Ms. Vouros. She was second only to God in authority so far as I was concerned. She was upper,
upper
management, and I doubted she knew my name. I’d never spoken to her directly. She relied on e-mails and underlings. Speculation ran that she learned her management style from Elizabeth Báthory, but that was ridiculous because old Liz had been a narcissist psycho, not a real vampire.

Which did not preclude Vouros from being a narcissist psycho, so I was very polite and stuck to the bare-bones business when she got on the line. I gave her my location, who I was with, and shared the joy about Kellie Ann Donner.

It was significant that Vouros did not ask me to repeat anything. I took it to mean she’d grasped the situation.

“Oh,
crap
,” she said, confirming.

I refrained from asking what to do next; she’d tell me if it deviated from the usual drill. She shot a few questions, getting an overview of the situation, and I gave her my best guess about what breed might be involved.

“Never mind that. Is she under control?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m sending a team to the gravesite to process it. The forensics crafter should be able to find maker traces. You two get straight back here, no stops.”

What did she think, that Ellinghaus and I would take in a movie? Good luck with that. There were hardly any drive-ins left. Only on the way to the truck did it hit me how rattled she must be.

The trip was routine from this point; Ellinghaus had his music plugged in from his iPod, and I tried to get some shut-eye stretched out on the padded bench in the back. The storage area under it was where he slept during the day with a bag of his soil, but I wasn’t bothered by that anymore. I belted in and wrapped tight under a blanket, fending off the A/C.

Of course I didn’t sleep. Who could?

I checked on Kellie Ann for the umpteeth time. Okay,
she
could sleep, or whatever it was vamps did. She made me want to have soothing drugs of my own. I couldn’t stop wondering what would happen to her once we got inside the gate.

If she disappeared permanently, it would solve everything for the Company. It would be hell on her family, but Company’s rules outweighed their right to know her fate.

If Kellie Ann was allowed to live and be a part of the greater community, she’d have to get a whole new ID, maybe relocation to another country. She wouldn’t like that. There was a kind of magic that could compel her to accept, but that sort of crafting is dangerous. When it goes completely against the will of the subject, they either throw it off or go nuts or both. None of those options is a party.

Or—with certain kinds of bounding spells in place so she could not share about being vamped—Kellie Ann could return to her family. She’d be primed to give them a tale of an abductor who’d drugged her, then let her go in a fit of conscience. The mystery around her disappearance would fade, and she could go back to most of her former life, with some dietary changes in place.

While it wasn’t anything I could influence, I would recommend it in my report and at my debriefing.

She would be closely questioned by experts. Spell work would be involved to pick her memory. Company investigators would want every detail to find out the name of the moron vampire behind this PR headache.

I wouldn’t feel sorry for him, either.

I gave up trying to sleep and returned to the cab. Ellinghaus was easy to hang with, no need to talk if we didn’t feel like it. He let a few miles pass before pulling out his ear buds and speaking. His voice was low, conversational. The general noise of the bus would prevent our patient from hearing him.

“Did you, by chance, notice her hands, Miss Goldfarb?”

“Can’t say that I did, no.”

“They were not messed up as one might expect, given her circumstances.”

Trying to claw your way from a coffin was hard on the manicure. “It just means she healed up when she vanished. You do that.”

“Yes, I do that. But it takes longer when the injury involves wood, and I heard wood snapping.”

“Okay.”

“I just thought I should mention that, is all.”

“Put it in your report. The geeks love details.”

“Indeed they do.”

I told him that Vouros was sending out a forensics crafter to process the grave.

He grunted approval.

That department had serious magical talent. Never mind about wearing gloves and being careful not to leave behind any DNA, they could get a fix on a vamp by magical means. It was also proprietary spell work, and scary efficient. Too bad they couldn’t apply it to human murder cases, only to supernaturals.

“I’ve been wondering about some things, too,” I said.

“Such as what, if I may inquire?”

“Such as how the hell did she get way out there? Who would even know about that place?”

“I have given some thought to that, as well. Perhaps the perpetrator was originally from the area and thought he could hide his crime, thinking no one would ever visit. He must not have expected her to revive.”

“He’s in for a shock.”

“Deservedly so.”

Ellinghaus hates them, the ones he calls crash-feeders. Since the Company got itself truly organized (at about the same time as the FBI), there’d not been many of those cases. He’s a stickler for rules, and when a crash-feeder comes along, it makes the rest of the vamps look bad. They resent anyone who caves to the crave.

“I suppose I could ask around, maybe look into genealogy records for that area,” he said. “I made note of the family names on the stones.”

“As good a place to start as any.”

“Might you consider initiating an online records search?”

“Glad to, but not right now. I’m tired and don’t want to get carsick.”

A grunt of understanding. Some vamps forget how tough it is to be human and subject to fatigue. Ellinghaus didn’t seem to be among their number. Not for the first time I wondered how old he was; I’d never asked, and he’s never brought it up. He could be fifty or five hundred, no way to tell. But he was comfortable to be with and always professional. I hoped he found those same qualities in me.

“Would you like to listen to some jazz, Miss Goldfarb?”

“Smooth?” I wasn’t in the mood for anything fast and raucous.

“And dark as chocolate.”

“The best kind.”

*   *   *

The music did its own magic to the point that I nodded off long enough to feel rotten when I snapped awake. Ellinghaus was on the exit for HQ; we were two minutes out with a long, comfortable margin before dawn. I was rumpled and soggy of brain, but if I had another Coke, it would leave me too wired to sleep later. Just have to tough it out minus chemical help.

Company grounds were intentionally deceptive. The buildings looked to be typical light industrial on the outside, with lots of security lights and cameras, nothing unexpected. However, the cyclone fence was extra tall, topped with razor wire and electrified. That was for human intruders. For everyone else, there was a boundary spell in place like the one I’d cast around Kellie Ann’s grave, but this one was on steroids with a crack chaser. My hat was off to the witch who had crafted it. He or she had created a vast domed perimeter, and no vamp could get in or out without magical help.

When dealing with people who can go invisible, people who might not agree with Company policies, you can’t overdo the locks.

The guard’s blockhouse in front was always manned. A vampire and witch pairing, as usual, to watch the gate. They recognized us, and Judy, the vamp, asked about the newbie.

“Orphan case,” said Ellinghaus. He knew better than to share our bombshell before management had a meeting on the subject.

“That sucks,” said Rosa, the witch. She was straight-faced, clearly not chasing a bad joke.

“I hate when that happens,” added Judy. I went in the back, opening the doors so she could make sure only three people were going in. Vamps can see others of their kind even when they’re vanished. She didn’t find unauthorized intruders in Ellinghaus’s storage locker and hardly glanced at the dozing Kellie Ann. Judy hopped out and called to Rosa to pass us in.

Rosa had a glass rod that would shift, rather than dissipate, power and waved it in a wide pattern that was too fast and subtle for me to follow, combining the action with a chant under her breath. The barrier that would have crushed Ellinghaus flat into his seat back had he tried to gun forward ceased to be there. Rosa nodded him in, working the wand and chant until our taillights were clear, then ceased, and things thumped back into place. I felt the power like a tangible echo. It would be so cool to know how to craft that kind of magic. Architecturally, the ones I raised were like a box made from Lincoln Logs. The one around HQ was comparable to a Renaissance cathedral in artistry and staying power.

However much training I got, I’d never be able to design anything like that. I had talent, but it was journeyman, not genius.

We braked again at another gate and guardhouse fifty feet along. It marked the second boundary wall. If the outer gate was ever compromised, then this one would hold, the guards protected within the compound. If that sounds military, it is. A lot of the vamps had served through the ages, and the Company made use of their experience.

We passed through, and the witch on duty chanted the gate back into place. I relaxed internally now that we were home.

The parking lot was almost empty, which was unusual for this time of night.

“Think it’s the holiday?” I asked after pointing it out.

“Security measure. Ms. Vouros won’t want this generally known yet.”

She’d probably given everyone the night off, using the holiday as an excuse. The fewer people, the fewer witnesses. They’d have happily grabbed at the free time, no questions.

Whatever was in store for Kellie Ann would be in place by now, and perhaps had been within minutes of my phone call. She was in for close questioning soon. I decided to stay with her. I’d be a familiar face, and she’d need a friend in her corner.

I told Ellinghaus to take it easy on the turns and made my way to the back, glad of the grab bars. Kellie Ann was awake, looking more alert.

“Where are we?”

“Almost there.” I rummaged in a drawer and got a package of sweatpants in a small and tore it open. “Here, these will fit you better. I’ll help you sit up.”

“Um…” She glanced at the opening to the cab.

The lightproof privacy curtain was fastened to one side. I undid it and pulled it across. “Okay, it’s just us girls now.”

“I wanna call my momma,” she whispered.

“This first.” I pulled the oversized pants off her and shook out the replacements.

She lurched up, swinging her legs around, facing me. “I
said
I wanna call my momma.”

“I heard you, Kellie Ann, but we have to—”

She grabbed my hair strongly and made me look into her eyes. “Do you not hear me? Give me your phone.”

I fumbled it from a pocket and handed it over. Some freaked-out part of my mind panicked, but the rest accepted this as perfectly normal and reasonable.

“Sit down and keep quiet,” she ordered, still whispering.

This also happened though I wanted to do the opposite. The internal conflict between what I wanted and the blunt, powerful orders set my heart thumping fit to burst.

Kellie Ann smiled soothingly. “Relax, Marsha. I’m your friend. You like me and want to help me.”

Like hell
, I thought, but felt my face smiling back. It hurt.

She broke eye contact and tapped a number into my phone. “I’m in. Get moving.”

The ambulance slowed. We’d be pulling into the guest-processing wing of the main building. Ellinghaus couldn’t have heard anything, not over the motor noise with the curtain in the way.

Kellie Ann pulled on the smaller pants, pushed back the long sleeves of her top, and eased open the tall locker with the hidden weapons. She’d had plenty of time to sneak a search during the long drive back when I’d napped. She went for two pistols with extra long magazines filled with mixed ammo. Whether she faced a human or a vamp, she could take out just about anyone she liked.

As soon as he cut the motor, she slammed the curtain back and shot Ellinghaus, pressing the muzzle into the top of his shoulder and firing three rounds angling down into his trunk. He jerked, grunted, and slumped, and inside I screamed and screamed and could not move a muscle.

She left the bus and hustled into the main building. I don’t know what she did next, but I imagined the worst and that she would be swift and efficient. First the receptionist, then whoever was manning the bullpen, then perhaps Vouros herself. Kellie Ann wouldn’t show up on internal cameras. Our security people would have no clue.

I’d not been spared out of kindness. She’d want me to take down the inner gate. Whoever she’d phoned would deal with Judy and hypnotize Rosa into doing the same, and HQ would be wide open to … what?

Just about anything. There were plenty of vamps who hated the Company. They’d be glad to see it gone, along with everyone in it.

The fear of that, the rage, the grief for Ellinghaus washed through me—negative emotions full of power. Some crafters trained to avoid them, but I saw them as another kind of survival mechanism and embraced their dizzy chill. I shut my eyes, remembering Kellie Ann’s face in front of me, her words burrowing into my brain like worms.

Not hard. The real difficulty was replacing the image with something else. Visualization training was basic to all spell-slingers. The better you see what you want in your head, the more success with the magic.

Sweat crept over me as I made that memory fade, the color seeping away until her face was gone, and I was surrounded by dense white fog. I could hold it only for a few seconds, being badly out of practice. Like others, I tended to rely too much on props and chanting.