Skin Deep (20 page)

Sully, regarded him for a moment, then tossed it to Anjelo who caught it with shaky hands.

"It's Lily's. I got it for her birthday." Anjelo's palm shook as he tipped his hand toward Logan and Kailin so they could see the tiny silver charm fashioned into a little dancing girl.

"This, at least, confirms Lily was on that dance-floor at some point after Anjelo left, the catch is broken. It may have come off in a struggle." Logan pinned Sully with a glare. "Do you have cameras focusing on the dance floor?"

Sully nodded

"Could we have a look at your tapes from last night?"

"Happy to help, but I'd need to know, what for? All this talk of charms is confusing. And who is Lily?" he asked as he walked to a small closet at the back of the room.

"The young girl who was with us yesterday. She's missing. Never came home last night. And she was last seen here in the club." said Kailin avoiding eye-contact with Anjelo.

"Are you trying to imply something?" Sully's shoulders were rigid, his face flushed.

"No, not at all." Logan shook his head reassuring the Club Don they had no such intention. "We want to find out what happened to her, just following every lead possible. And your tapes might be crucial in our search."

"I should insist on a search warrant you know." Sully mumbled. "But I'm a nice guy."

"It's good that you are assisting us, Mr. Sullivan." Logan smiled. "I do have a warrant if you would like to see it."

Sully's jaw tightened and he waved Logan off, then proceeded to replay the tapes from the previous night. Sully's muscles tightened, tendons straining, no doubt he forced himself to maintain a friendly face. Logan stood aside, making space for Kailin and Anjelo to view the bank of monitors replaying the tapes from the various cameras around the club. There. One screen held the moving images of Lily and Anjelo, displaying their argument for all to see. Logan didn't need sound to tell him the nature of argument was volatile. He followed Lily's movements through the club after Anjelo left. She stood at the edge of the dance floor, fists clenched, anger and disappointment gleaming on her face. Then she turned and elbowed dancers aside as she disappeared into the
restrooms.

While she'd had her little tantrum, she'd been observed by two men. Scruffy types with baseball caps shoved tight onto their heads, who took up position outside the toilets after she entered. When she left it was clear they'd been waiting for her. The positioning of the camera and their caps had hidden their faces as they stalked her, until they followed her onto the dance-floor.

Logan glanced at Anjelo who remained deadly silent while they watched the blurry black and white replay. Even when Kailin flinched as the two goons grabbed Lily in the middle of the roiling ocean of dancers, Anjelo had continued to watch, unblinking.

They half carried, half dragged the now unconscious girl to the door. The bouncer at the exit nodded to them and opened the door before they could request it. As if he knew them. As if he had expected them to be dragging an unconscious woman out the club door. Logan wished he could’ve gotten a look at Sully's face, but the Club boss faced away from him, staring at the monitors, a large vein throbbing at his temple. This video implicated his employee in Lily's disappearance. It wouldn't be a great leap of imagination to assume Sully was in some way involved. But they still needed his help.

At Kailin's direction Sully stopped the tape there and rewound it until the minutes after they left Club Wylde, isolating the camera focused on the Japanese bouncer. The goons spoke to him before heading to the restrooms.

"What his name?" Logan asked

Sully remained silent.

"Sully?" Kailin prodded.

"Hiro Mishima." The name scraped cold through gritted teeth. "He's been with me about two months. Just great. I need to find out who he's working for. Will you excuse me? I need to make a few calls."

A ferocious scowl contorted Sully's face as he turned to Logan while Kailin and Anjelo continued to scan the tapes. Logan looked at him, and in the instant their eyes met he saw a violent, angry nature within their depths. His expression sent shivers up Logan's spine.

He'd allowed them to look at his tapes, but clearly he didn't like it at all - there were things going on in his club he seemingly had no idea about. Or maybe he did know and wasn't thrilled with being investigated. Now he retreated to a shadowed corner, speaking on his cell phone in low tones while keeping one eye on the cameras as Kailin and Anjelo studied them for clues.

Logan remained unsure why Sully would bother to help them at all, especially with the glares he sent their way. But the tapes were exacting proof of how slack he was in keeping his staff in line. A woman had been abducted right out from under his nose and he'd gone about his business totally ignorant. If word got out, his Club, his livelihood would be in serious jeopardy. If he cared at all about his reputation. Logan had the niggling feeling he didn't give a damn that he could have blood on his hands.

***

Hiro wasn't hard to track. I mean, a gang of Walkers was like having a team of sniffer dogs on hand 24/7.

Anjelo had surreptitiously sniffed the area where Hiro had stood at the exit. "Fox-Walker. I have his scent. This one's strong around the club. I'm sure we can follow it."

I glanced at
Logan. He'd never be able to keep up with us at Walker top speed. My mind whirled to come up with an excuse and I opened my mouth, then closed it as Logan's phone buzzed. He stepped away, returning a few moments later with a scowl on his face. "I've got to go. You think Anjelo will be fine talking to Hiro?"

I
nodded.

Logan hesitated then nodded and walked off, already on his mobile as he disappeared around the block.

Anjelo and I followed the scent for a few blocks. At last we came to a drab apartment house. The scents of other Walkers mingled and confused the trail. We followed it up a darkened flight of stairs. The spike of stale urine and rotting garbage assaulted us, worse with our Panther noses on full blast. Up to the third floor, we turned left and tracked the pungent aroma of fox to the third door on our left. He was home.

Anjelo knocked. I couldn't have held him back, even if I wanted to. If Lily had meant as much to me as she did to Anjelo I would be in the same permanent state of hysterical fear and fury.

He knocked again and the door cracked open. Anjelo shoved the door onto Hiro and pushed into the room. Hiro turned, stark fear swam in his glossy eyes. He tried to make a run for it. Too late. Anjelo swiped him hard across the side of his head and the Fox-Walker went down. Three lines of blood marked the fox's cheek - Anjelo had transformed his hands to claw-tipped paws.

Hiro, taking the swipe as a challenge, transformed partway too, his vicious black claws glinted in the bright light streaming into the window. Anjelo's growl brought me back to the fight before me. Claws and teeth went flying, growls and high pitched yips blended into a cacophony of rage.

Hiro's teeth sank deep into Anjelo's forearm. Anjelo growled and plunged his claws into the fox's back. He would’ve transformed the entire way had I not stopped him. A fight between a fox and a Panther was not a fair one at all. We needed the fox alive, at least until he gave us the information we needed.

Anjelo finally regained some sense and calmed down sufficiently to tie Hiro up. His muscles bulged with the effort to restrain himself from wringing the Fox's neck. I transformed a single claw and held the lethal tip to the side of Hiro's face.

"Not so brave now are we, chum?"

He remained silent until I prodded his cheek, drawing blood.

"What do you want?" He faced me but his eyes watched my claw as it hovered an inch from his face.

"Tell me about the two goons you let abduct an innocent girl from the club."

"What? I did nothing." My claw touched his cheek again and I found it was quite sufficient to encourage him to spill. "No...wait...it was Brand's guys."

"Who's Brand? Is he the dealer?"

"Yeah, he's the Boss. What the Boss wants, the Boss gets." Hiro shivered with double layered fear. Brands retribution, and my shiny claw.

"What did he want with the girl?"

"I don't know...please." Hiro cringed as Anjelo growled and shoved his face a hot breath away from Hiro's own bleeding one.

"I think he's telling the truth." I backed off slightly, hoping the bouncer would take it as a show of faith. "Where can I find your boss?"

Fear tightened the Japanese man’s features, pulling his almond shaped eyes into thinner slits. "It's too dangerous, he’ll kill you." He kept shaking his head over and over again.

"I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself, Hiro. So tell me where I can find Brand and I will leave your pretty face in one piece."

"The old abandoned warehouse at the edge of the Dead Zone." The Dead Zone was an expanse of abandoned buildings, once a thriving commercial centre. There had been whispers the Mayor intended to raze the area, but it was potentially an expensive and time consuming project. No work had been done over the last four years since the plan had been announced. In the meantime it became a hunting and feeding ground for the cities underworld. Hiro laughed, the sound flat and emotionless. "But don't say I didn't warn you. He's one sick bastard."

"What do you mean?" I asked taking a step closer to him.

"Brand likes his meals alive and kicking. And human." Hiro smirked. We would never have seen that coming.

***

It was late in the evening and I was deep in thought, running the happenings of the last few days over in my mind, hoping some clue would pop straight into my head.

The high quiver of hysterical screams filled the street outside my window. The tenement across the street was filled with people, some squatters but most legally occupying the apartments. There were times when life or sanity proved difficult to control and people killed each other in those apartments. It had taken me a while to understand this part of Humanity.

The sick, messed up side, when anger lifted the hand of a father to beat to death his precious child. When a lover spilled the blood of his soul-mate in a drunken rage. That never happened in walker communities. Skin-Walkers place high value on the lives of their children, the reason why my brother fought me tooth and nail when I decided to leave the colony.

But worse, to me, were those Humans who hurt for the sake of it, for the pure enjoyment of the act, for the sensuality of being the one in control of life. I rebelled against our way of living because we were forced into a hidden existence, but being among Humans had opened my eyes to the beauty of our society.

It wasn't unusual for people to scream and yell in my neighborhood. But the screams I heard now stabbed my stomach and pierced my skin. Although premonitions and psychic perception skills were not unheard of among Skin-Walkers, it wasn't common, and certainly didn't run in my family line. Yet I felt chilled, as if my own spirit had walked across my chest.

I didn't waste time peeking out the window overlooking the street. Didn't bother to shut the window behind me as I flew down the fire-escape on winged feet. I skidded into the street, to find a crowd of people milling around. Seemed the scream had affected a number of residents. A woman in a faded nightgown all ruffles and frills, a man in his boxers, a pistol in his hand and his generous beer belly sagging low. No time to be grossed out.

I elbowed my way through the throng which got tighter the closer I came to the hysterical woman. They were people as concerned as I was. Concerned or plain curious. The tone of those screams held more than fear, it was the note of unadulterated horror which sent shivers through my soul, and made my Panther snarl to come out and fight.

On the street I pushed my way toward the source of the wails, afraid of what I would see. My first thought was 'Please not another skinned Walker."

Anjelo and Logan and everyone who was working on this case was on tenterhooks. I wasn't surprised this was my first thought.

I paused, sniffed and smelled blood. Memories swirled in my mind - of muscles bare and bloody. Mental shake, I got hold of my thoughts and focused on the scent. It was tainted with other smells lingering on the air. Bodies and food and alcohol coalesced in a miasma of rank odor.

But one scent sang a soprano. Human blood. Not a Skinwalker. But something was not right. This scent was familiar. I questioned it. It was natural. When I'd seen the first corpse, flayed and bloody, I recognized the odor of familiarity on him. This was the same but vastly different and my heart knocked painfully against my breast-bone.

The crowd parted before me as I reached the hysterical woman. She stood over a body, of which all I could see were a hand and two feet.

Ailuros help me, I know this scent.

Feet shod in familiar boots.

Dear Ailuros. Not another friend.

I moved closer. The woman turned, still sobbing, to be comforted by another bystander. She moved away and my view was unobstructed.

Shock and grief robbed the air from my lungs, the blood from my head. Blood pooled beneath the supine form and I fell to my knees, heedless as it soaked into my jeans and stained my hands, still warm as it bled into the ground. I reached for the lifeless, blood-drenched body of Clancy, my supervisor and friend.