The Blood that Flows by Stephanie Van Orman - HTML preview

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Chapter Seven

Is that a Gun in your Pants?

Invasion of privacy?

Well, what else did a private investigator do?

When I woke up the next morning, Dudley was gone. He left a coffee shop bagel and a note on the table beside me. The note said, “Sorry, I had to get an early start. You can stay here as many nights as you like.” There was a key folded up in the paper.

I didn’t exactly know what to make of Dudley or any of this. I felt like an idiot as I added Dudley’s key to my key ring. For some reason, I thought I was so damn smart keeping London safe all those years. From everything I had learned over the past two days—I might as well have left her with our parents. Her timeline probably would have played out much the same. I had to face it, I was not on Dudley’s level. Whether he was a grouchy saint or the very devil acting like a grouchy saint, I couldn’t tell the difference with perfect confidence. When I thought about the seventeen-year-old Tate Crosswood, I couldn’t help believing everything he had told me.

I rolled off the couch and went into the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of water from the tap and looked at the clock. It was past noon.

My hair felt like sheepskin that had been left out in the sun and my clothes felt sticky. I couldn’t even go home to change my clothes. Roan might be waiting for me to come back to the apartment. So, I had to make do with whatever Dudley had.

His bathroom had the look of a room that had been quickly straightened, so did his bedroom. Well, it wasn’t like it mattered. As long as he had hot water—I could survive.

Once I was done showering and borrowing his razor, I went to his room to find a clean shirt. I pulled out a white dress shirt from his closet. It wasn’t like there was much else to choose from. I’d wear my own jeans and suit jacket, but I needed a clean shirt, at least. Maybe I could pick up a few things after I prowled around town a bit.

I tied my wet hair up in a French twist and thought about where I was going to go to investigate Garth. I didn’t have any ideas, except to go around from club to club (the same clubs where I followed London) and ask if anyone knew him. It was going to be slow going—probably an exercise in futility. I didn’t even have a picture of him or know his last name.

I frowned and mentally braced myself.

Then I picked up the bagel Dudley left me and headed out. I’d take the bus to the downtown core and start my search there.

***

It was hopeless.

I had wandered around the city for hours. My feet hurt and my brain felt jumbled.

Finally, I found myself standing in the lobby of the police headquarters looking at their Most Wanted Criminals board. After inquiring at half a dozen clubs, I had given up. Heck, I couldn’t even remember what that loser, Garth, looked like anymore. I stared at the board, hoping either he or Roan was on the list, but it felt like such a slim chance that I suddenly became an insecure teenager looking at the casting list for the school play.

Out of nowhere, the person beside me started talking to me. “Looking for someone?”

I turned around and it was a person I had never seen before. Well, I had seen him before, but only in the paper, never in real life. Except there was something about him that didn’t show up in the pictures—he had the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. It was the police chief, Pierce Wagner.

“Yeah, I was,” I said, turning back and pretending to examine the list even though I was already through with it.

“Most of these criminals are vampires,” Pierce said. “Are you sure you can handle a vampire?”

I smirked. Pierce himself was so obviously a vampire, I wondered how he managed to say that without choking on his own tongue. But I had decided to let it go and play coy. Dudley wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what to make of the crime enforcement in this city. There was a lot I hoped to squeeze out of him if I could. “It’s not for me,” I said lightly. “I work for a P.I. and I was just checking the list while I was passing.”

Pierce suddenly leaned in and whispered, “Then why is there a gun on your back?”

I stared at him and he chuckled while I checked to see if it was sticking out of my suit jacket.

“No. It’s not visible,” he said, making an unsuccessful attempt to hide his amusement. “And neither is the one in your boot or the switchblade in your pocket. Tell me seriously, who are you looking for?”

I flicked my hair out of my eyes and bit my lip. “It’s not really who I am looking for, but who is looking for me.”

“Hmm,” he murmured, looking me over from head to toe in a way I’d never been looked over before. It wasn’t like I was a piece of meat. It was more like I was being evaluated like a weapon and he was gauging how much damage I could do. From the expression on his face—he didn’t think I could do much. “And you are planning on taking care of them yourself without notifying the police that someone dangerous is after you? What a sad appraisal of our police service,” he said languidly.

“I didn’t say I didn’t trust the police,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. Offending the police chief was not on my list of things to do today.

“Well,” he said, turning back to the board, “are any of these fine ladies or gentlemen the person who’s looking for you?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. Actually, I was looking at the door.

“Maybe you should have a chat with one of the officers anyway. You know, just to let them know what your situation is, in case someone finds you floating down the river tomorrow.”

I had had about enough of this. “Look, I realize what you’re trying to do, and considering who you are, I think it’s really sweet of you to take this precious second out of your day to give me a little friendly advice, but I don’t think I’d get the advice I’m looking for from one of your officers. So, unless you’re willing to answer a couple of my questions personally, you’re wasting your time.”

Then he smiled.

Don’t get me wrong. I had seen vampires smile before. I’d seen vampires in clubs laughing their heads off pretending to be drunk and I’d seen London’s wan attempts, but I had never seen a vampire smile like Pierce. He should have looked dangerous, but instead, he looked—genuinely pleased. It was a miracle he managed it with those sharp teeth.

A shiver crept up my vertebrae.

“I would love to answer any question you might have. Please, come this way.”

I expected him to take me to his office, or somewhere I would have felt similarly uncomfortable, but he didn’t. He took me outside to a quiet little area with scads of potted plants.

“Ask me anything,” he said.

I looked around nervously. We were alone, but just barely. Completely out of earshot was the city street and there were pedestrians on the sidewalk. Actually, he couldn’t have brought me to a safer place.

He was standing in a shadow, with the sun well out of his eyes and it looked like there was an ache in one of his shoulders. London would have curled up in one of those shadows and fallen asleep if I made her come to a place like this in the middle of the afternoon.

“Have you ever heard of a group of humans ganging up on a vampire so they can all transform themselves into vampires?”

“Naturally,” he said like he was chewing the side of his cheek. “I wish we could do something to stop that sort of thing from happening, but unfortunately, vampires don’t have any rights. They can be murdered on sight by anyone with a license, and as you know by that cute little document in your wallet, those licenses aren’t exactly hard to get.”

“Well,” I said shyly, “that’s more for self-defense than for vampire hunting.”

“I know,” he said, smiling again.

Hearing that put my walls up. “So, how do you know all about me?”

“I don’t know all about you. I don’t know your name. The piece in the back of your pants is just a little big for a woman with such a delicate waist. It’s a man’s gun. The same goes for the one in your boot. The straps are a little big for you, aren’t they?”

I flicked my pant leg. I didn’t think it was that obvious.

“As for the knife in your pocket, your pocket gaped slightly while I was standing next to you and I saw it.”

“And the license?”

“There’s a microchip in every license we issue and a little light goes on by the door of the station whenever someone who has an active one comes in. I saw you come in. I’m not as intuitive as all that.”

“All right,” I said, feeling slightly less creeped out. However, I still felt like an amateur trying to play with the big boys, and talking with Pierce was only making the feeling grow. “I agree that vampires deserve some rights, but shouldn’t the way they’re created play a part in what kind of protection they’re entitled to?”

“That’s why it’s so difficult to fight for vampire rights in the city council or elsewhere. There’s no way to prove whether a vampire was made in a natural way.”

“What kind of punishment is there for the crime of draining a vampire for the purpose of changing multiple humans into vampires?”

“It varies,” Pierce said and his tone sounded ominous. “If anyone ever offers you that kind of deal, no matter what the price, please contact me personally.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a tiny gold case that contained business cards. He offered me one and I took it.

“Does that mean you’re prepared to deal with such a case unofficially?”

He shrugged one shoulder noncommittally.

“Your personality is different from what I imagined,” I said, pocketing his card. “Though I wish you’d be more specific about what kind of help you can offer.”

“Are you saying there’s a case like that now?”

I blew out some air and pursed my lips.

He kept talking. “Well, vampirism is generally a misunderstood condition. Humans see it in such a strange light. To them, it’s eternal youth, freedom from disease, freedom from human desires and frailties. From what I understand, it’s merely the exchange of one set of problems for another.”

I sat down on one of the larger pots and looked at him inquisitively. London was never this forthcoming about her situation. The comparison made Pierce look like a wonder. “Go on,” I encouraged.

“For one thing, vampires cannot have children. Their bodies cease to grow or change and they cannot produce offspring. I have heard of many vampires who mourn for offspring after they’ve enjoyed a few years of supposed immortality.”

“What else?”

“For them, love is basically a lie. If they happen to fall in love with someone, that someone will inevitably die or murder them. Doesn’t that sound joyful?” he said sarcastically. “They have all the time in the world, but a timer starts as soon as they find someone they care about.”

“I see. So, how many times have you fallen in love with a human?”

His face remained completely still and unaffected. “Are you saying I’m a vampire?”

“Of course, you’re a vampire.”

“Who told you that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in mock suspicion.

“I thought it was common knowledge, but even if I hadn’t picked up that little tidbit somewhere along the lines, I would still know it. Just look at you.”

He crossed his arms and asked, “Exactly what about me makes you think I am a vampire?”

“Look at your skin. It’s perfect. No scars, no blemishes, no facial hair. Vampire hair doesn’t grow, so if you shave once—that’s it. Look at the way you’re standing—out of the light and with your back to the sun.”

“It’s just a coincidence,” he said, his expression deadpan.

I shook my head wearily and snorted. “You think I care if you’re a vampire? I wouldn’t have wanted to talk to you if you weren’t. Do you believe all humans think vampires are either monsters or models? Some of us understand a little more about it than that. I’m trying to find some information and help my sister, okay?”

His smile was unnerving and he kept using it. It was knocking me off balance. “Ask me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

I paused. Even though I said what I said and he said what he said, I didn’t know how to word my question. Also, I recalled Dudley saying he wasn’t sure he wanted to involve the police. I trusted Dudley more than this guy, so I drew back.

“Thanks for being so forthcoming. I’ll call you once I figure out what I need,” I said.

“It would be my pleasure to help you,” he said kindly, putting out his hand to shake mine.

I shook it. His skin felt slightly cool, just like London’s.

“Still don’t want to tell me your name?” he asked, peering at me.

“It’s Sweeper.”

“An alias? I’m not as frightening as all that.”

“No. That’s my real name. Have you ever heard of a vampire called Roan?”

Pierce nodded. “Sure.”

“Thanks,” I said, pulling my hand away. “That’s all I wanted to know. Bye.”

“Bye,” he echoed.

I walked away and put myself back on the sidewalk. Dudley was right. If Roan had been a good boy in the eyes of the police chief, then there was probably no hope of getting help from him. The police probably had bigger fish to fry, and if it was Roan’s first offense, they might sympathize and let him off.

I twitched.

The day had been a complete waste.