Irina’s words echoed in his head all the way back to the house. He grimaced in frustration. An ally? Right. She hero-worshiped Ice for his power, for his total disregard of rules...and he might indeed be the biggest baddest dude around. She might make a Judas goat, leading him to the albino if set loose...but that did not qualify her as anything like an ally.
At the house, Lien sat on the patio turning a charcoal stick over in her fingers and frowning at paper pinned to the easel before her. The beginnings of a portrait already existed and as always, Garreth marveled how she conveyed so much in a few lines. In this case, he saw, peering over her shoulder: Raven’s face...defiant and yet unutterably lost.
“Does she really look that way to you?”
Lien looked up, her frown turning concerned. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you stretch out under the tree.”
Though the shade and earth did call him, he held up the bag from Vintage Vinyl. “There’s an album I want to tape.”
She reached for the bag. “I’ll do that. You rest.” She pulled out the album and the blank tape he had bought. “Cenotaph? My college freshman crowd considered all that social doom-crying very sophisticated but I’d have thought you spent those years listening to who...the Beatles?
“It isn’t for me.” He told her about the tapes in Raven’s bag.
Her brows rose. “It’s even more surprising she knows the group.”
“I’m thinking Ice gave her the tape. There’s one cut on the record, ‘Shades Of Midnight,’ that a vampire, or wannabe, might consider a theme song. I think my subconscious heard someone singing it while the girls drained blood from Maggie and me.”
Lien carried the album inside. Garreth stretched out in the shade of their tree and let daylight push him into the welcoming earth. He drifted off on the music coming from the house...haunting melodies sung almost a cappella by intense, cautionary voices.
But sleep put him back in the wrecked ZX with the crackle of grass and gravel marking the footsteps of someone circling the car. When he tried to sit up the smashed top pinned him against the steering wheel, and the jammed door would not open no matter how hard he threw himself against it. He thrashed harder, snarling. Since he recognized this as only a dream, why was he so powerless? Surely he could pass through the door or car roof.
The nearing footsteps slowed. “It’s all right,” Raven’s voice said reassuringly. “They’re dead or almost, and Ice needs their blood.”
“And these are the kind of people we hate, aren’t they?” a childish voice said. “Because like Ice says, they’ve rejected us.” She started singing, the words curling around Garreth in a high, breathy voice. ...shadow brothers/Disenfranchised from the light/Pariahs, outcasts, misfits, exiles...
“These are worse...cops...and deserve whatever happens to them.” Raven said.
Nameless faces/Shadowed places/Lives enclosed by sunless spaces.
Pain shot up Garreth’s arm.
“Drinking enemies’ blood shows we’re the victors.”
...reject the light/Choosing to embrace the Dark/And welcome lives in shades of Midnight.
The song followed him from the dream into deeper sleep.
Violent shaking pulled him out of the blackness. “Garreth!”
Lien’s voice and blood scent. Garreth hauled himself up toward consciousness. And daylight! Alarm shot through him. He forced his eyes open. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”
“I thought you ought to be up before Raven is.”
Right. He pushed to his feet. “Is Harry home yet?”
“No. He called a while ago to say--surprise--he’ll be late.” She shook her head, smiling. “The evening he comes home on time I’ll probably drop dead with surprise.”
Yawning and stretching, Garreth dragged himself upstairs to the bathroom with his bag and grooming kit. Coming back down shaved and showered, and more to the point, with the sun slipping over the horizon, he felt ready to take on the wild child.
Downstairs in the doorway of the kitchen, he halted in alarm. Raven already sat at the kitchen peninsula...gulping down a mug of...tea, judging by the odor. He frowned at Lien. “Lien, you shouldn’t have--”
“Are you hungry, my dear?” Smiling serenely, she headed for the refrigerator. “I heard Raven stirring and invited her down for something hot to drink. She’s very thirsty. Tea is all she’s asking for but I assume you prefer something more nutritious?”
Without waiting for an answer, she took a familiar pint bottle from the refrigerator, broke the seal, and poured half the blood into a ceramic mug. Gently swirling the contents, she walked to the other side of the peninsula and set the mug in front of the stool next to Raven’s.
The scent rising out of the mug drifted to Garreth. Raven smelled it, too, he noticed. She watched him sidelong while he lifted the mug, and her throat worked when he swallowed.
He started to offer Raven the mug, but Lien caught his eye and shook her head in a microscopic no.
What was she up to?
Her eyes focused on the counter almost in front of the girl. “So what are your plans for the evening?”
Garreth set the mug down where she indicated. “I think I’ll make another canvass, this time talking to the night people.”
Raven’s gaze followed the mug down, he noticed, and stayed fixed on it. Now Garreth saw the plan.
“Go on,” Lien said.
Beside him Raven chewed her lower lip but made no move toward the mug, just stared at it.
Garreth shrugged inwardly. Okay, don’t drink. See how you like starvation. It’s not fatal, just agony. He focused on Lien. “More people may remember him since that’s when this Cameron Dark appears to have gotten out and about.”
Movement caught his eye. Raven’s hand inched toward the mug. Her mouth and throat worked. Lien made some comment and he replied, with no idea what either of them said, his focus sidelong on Raven.
Her hand closed around the mug’s handle. Then, as if that committed her and she feared it being taken away, she seized the mug with her other hand, too, snatched it up, and gulped down the blood. Astonishment spread across her face. Slowly, she lowered the mug and stared into it, licking her lips. “It tastes different. I mean, it tastes the same, but--”
Garreth said, “I know.”
Lien poured the rest of the pint into the mug, then opened another pint for Garreth.
Without hesitation Raven emptied the mug again, then ran her finger around inside and licked the finger clean. “Now I know what Ice meant by delicious fire. I can’t wait to try warm blood again.”
Dismay flashed in Lien’s eyes.
Garreth lifted his brows at her. Now maybe she understood his problem with this girl.
None of that showed in her voice. “You two had better go so you’ll have plenty of time for the canvass then. I presume you’re taking Raven with you, Garreth?”
Not by choice, but forget leaving her here, garlic juice atomizers at Lien’s hand or not.
Raven’s face twisted in disgust. “This should be a load of fun.” Then she eyed him. “Unless we can go check out the real night life afterward?”
“I’m sure he’ll be happy to show you the city,” Lien said. “I’ll give your excuses to Harry, Garreth...both yours and Raven’s, who is, let’s say, an acquaintance of Irina’s she sent along to help you out. And let’s call you, oh, Elspeth. That sounds like someone born in another century.”
Raven grinned. “Cool. I can tell him I was born in Salem and was going to be burned at the stake for being a witch but I broke the ropes and escaped.”
“Don’t tell him any such thing,” Garreth said. “The more you say, the bigger your chance of tripping up. Like, witches weren’t burned; they were hung.” Was this what Lien meant by not worrying about Harry? Lying to him? He grimaced. A lesser evil, though, than making Harry choose whether to aid a fugitive. “We can stay out until he’s asleep.”
Lien shook her head. “You know he’ll wait up so you can visit. Now, wasn’t there something you planned to give Raven?”
He had almost forgotten. Quickly he brought the Vintage Vinyl bag from the family room.
Her eyes widened as she peered in. Pulling out the two tapes, she stared at them, and at the portable tape player he also bought.
“That’s in case you actually want to play them,” Garreth said.
She laid down the player. “Why would I want to. This band is crap.”
Blue Steel Perdition. Garreth eyed her. “So why did you have their albums before?”
For a moment he wondered if she would answer, or answer truthfully. “‘Cause Ice gave them to me is all.”
Not truthfully, then.
Still, she stuffed the tapes into her sling bag. “Are we going out or not!”
In the car she pulled out Steel and Stone and smirked at it. “If you could see me now...you fucking hypocrite.” She glanced sideways. “I suppose you wonder who I’m talking about.”
He made his tone off-hand. “Teddy Rivers?”
It shocked her speechless. She stared slack-jawed in disbelief.
“Your father, right?” he added, and as that clearly rocked her, too, went on: “When I was on the department here I helped arrest him once.”
She recovered her voice. “I hope he resisted and you beat the hell out of him!” Her lip curled. “Do you know where he is now? What he’s pretending to be? A preacher! All goody-goody...and sooo damn humble. Every time one of our churches got a decent congregation and everyone adored him, we’d have to leave,” she said bitterly. “He’d drag us off to the middle of nowhere to some crappy church in a crappy town. Because Jesus is supposed to be what’s important, not him, he’d say. Only I found out what he really is.”
So much anger. Garreth felt almost seared by it. That made her easy for Ice to manipulate. Do this or that and get even with your father. Now he needed a way to use the anger against Ice.
A problem he considered, with no luck, while working his way along the same streets he had during the day. With no better luck. Even loitering juveniles who looked the type to have been part of Dark’s wolf pack neither knew him nor could suggest anyone who might.
Raven’s expression became increasingly disgruntled, but to her credit she said nothing until Garreth called the canvass quits. “If this is detective work, I’m surprised you don’t all shoot yourselves in the head out of boredom. So.” She brightened. “Where’s the night life?”
Well, why not show her.
He parked on the Embarcadero and walked her up Broadway. Though not as lively as on a Friday or Saturday night, the blaze of club signs, streams of tourists, bar crawlers, and hustlers on the sidewalks, the calls of barkers proclaiming the titillating delights of their shows still impressed Raven. Scents of car exhaust, tobacco, liquor, perfume, and most of all, of blood, swirled past them, ever changing.
Maggie would have enjoyed this, he reflected. He could have brought her here. He should have.
Raven stared around in wide-eyed delight. “Now this is what I call night life. Let’s go in some of the bars.”
Here came the end of her good mood. “You’re too young.”
She snorted. “You can’t pull that again. If you won’t hypnotize the bouncer, I’ll do it myself.”
“That doesn’t work on surveillance cameras.” Whether or not these bars used them, it sounded good.
Her lip curled. “I didn’t come along for a fucking hike. I want to see some shows...maybe be the show. Like this one piano bar Ice took us into in Denver. It was so dead. The piano man played like a zombie on ‘ludes. Ice said why didn’t I liven it up...so I jumped on the piano man’s lap and got it on with him right there at the piano.” She smirked. “That made the jazziest version ever of ‘I Write the Songs.’”
“Did the police appreciate it?”
She snorted. “No one called the police. They were too busy cheering me on.”
She had to be making it up. Even a vampire with centuries of accumulated power could not hypnotize an entire crowd, let alone bar management, into welcoming obvious juveniles putting on an indecent performance. Yet Raven sounded sincere.
Rather than call her bluff and escalate the argument, however, he said, “Sorry but here you have to settle for just walking. Personally, I’ve always enjoyed the street more than the clubs. It’s such great people watching.”
Raven glanced around. He watched her eyes reflect red. Saw her take a deep breath. Tasting the symphony of blood scents? “Well...I guess it’s a little interesting. I wonder why Ice didn’t bring us here. It’s a perfect hunting ground for him, and a motherlode for marks.” She eyed a passing couple staring around avidly, obvious tourists. Her expression went thoughtful, then she smiled warmly up at him. “If I can’t be the show in a bar...” Sliding her arms around him, she pressed against him. Her voice went husky. “Let me show you a thing or two. You must know somewhere we can go.”
He peeled her arms loose. “I’m not interested.”
“Yeah?” She sneered. “What are you...homo!”
Hell hath no fury. “Just picky. What was your plan...go in the bathroom to undress and slip out the window?”
She jerked back, eyes flashing. “Look, Sherlock, there’s no way I’m ever going to help you find Ice and I’m tired of being your fucking prisoner!” Her voice rose.
Several passers-by turned to look at them. Garreth met their eyes with a long suffering expression.
The pedestrians walked on.
Raven folded her arms. “This is a great place and I’m staying here! Do I have to start screaming you’re demanding sex in return for not arresting me?” She snickered. “Then try waving your badge around.”
He sighed. When would she give it a rest? “You don’t care if you ever see Amber again? Aren’t you worried about her?”
Her face went stricken, betraying she had not thought of that, then with a visible effort she shrugged. “Ice will take care of her. She’s devoted to him and he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her.”
Yeah, right.
His feelings must have shown in his face. “You don’t think so?” Raven said. “Well, Ice doesn’t sell her to perverts who want sex with her because she looks like a baby, the way that pimp in Denver was, giving her roofies so she’d cooperate. And you know how she ended up on the street? Her mother spent Amber’s whole life locking her in closets when she didn’t want to be bothered taking care of her, and telling Amber that she was stupid and too much trouble and should have been aborted. Until the bitch caught her boyfriend screwing Amber–which he’d been doing for weeks every time mom wasn’t around–and accused Amber of seducing him and threw her out on the street! In the middle of the night! An eleven-year-old child!”
Garreth had encountered plenty of children beaten, tortured, starved, sexually abused, and murdered by parents and caregivers ...but never ceased being shocked and enraged by it...and baffled how anyone could treat a child that way. A similar outrage blazed in Raven, he saw. He liked her for that. “I expect you’re the best thing that’s happened. You care about her.”
Raven blushed. “So does Ice. He promised her none of our marks would ever touch her and none have.”
Garreth was about to ask if she believed Ice, when he spotted someone he decided Raven should meet. “So you’re satisfied leaving Amber with him while you stay here and make this your hunting preserve?”
Raven tossed her head. “Yes! I’ll be set for life.”
“Which’ll be very short,” a voice behind them said, “because I’ll fucking rip your head off!”
Raven spun...and stared at the speaker...a thin woman with a mane of platinum hair, chain belt around her waist, lace-up bustier, leather miniskirt, and high heels.
The hooker hissed, “No one trespasses on my territory!”
Garreth backed away. “We’re just passing through.”
Raven snickered. “You mean you think you can rough us up?” Remembering tossing Officer Benton across the room?
Garreth braced to take action if necessary but made no attempt to intervene.
The hooker’s mouth twisted. “Not rough you up, gump. Kill you...and that’s true death, fangette...forever and ever...no third coming.” Her eyes flared red.
Raven started. “Hey...you--you’re...like me.”
The street vampire bared her teeth. “I’m nothing at all like you!” She glanced at Garreth with disgust. “Is this thing your fault?”
He sighed. “Sorry, yes.”
Her lip curled. “Shit for brains obviously runs in the family. Well, if you want it, you’d better keep it away from here.” Shoving past them, she stalked away. No question that in Garreth’s place, she would have dropped Raven out that hospital window with a broken neck.
Raven stared after her, ashen, then tossed her head. “Bitch. You’re just going to let her talk to you that way? Ice would kick her butt!”
“Not for just name calling, I’m sure. You don’t survive two thousand years without learning to pick your fights. If you want to challenge her for the territory, though, go ahead. Or maybe you’re thinking of finding another block to stake out?”
Raven’s expression went thoughtful. “Are there others like her along here?”
Intelligence had finally kicked in. “A few...here and in the Tenderloin and South of Market.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You brought me up here hoping we’d meet one of them, didn’t you?”
He could see how it looked that way. “No...but I’m not sorry we did. That’s what you’d face living on your own here...and that’s what you’d turn into.”
She frowned. “Ice likes his blood on the hoof but he’s not like that.”
“Until now you haven’t been in a position to compete with him.” Saying it brought Garreth another flash of his vision, Raven snarling up at Ice and Ice staring down with murder in his eyes. Was competition causing the confrontation? Not that the reason mattered, as long as it led him to Ice.
His phone warbled.
It was the video store owner. “I found that private detective’s card if you’re still interested.”
Garreth dug in his blazer for his notebook. “I’m still interested.”
“The name is Walter Daniels of the Bettencourt Detective Agency. They’re in Seattle.”
Seattle? “What’s his number?” He scribbled as Singer dictated. “Thank you very much, sir. I really appreciate you taking the time to look for the card.” He disconnected and punched in the Seattle number. Somewhat to his surprise, a live voice answered, and offered to switch Garreth to Daniels’ voice mail. He told the voice, “I know it’s late but can you page him for me? This is important. It’s about a man named Cameron Dark he came to San Francisco for three years ago.”
“I’ll try to reach him. What’s your number?”
As he disconnected Raven said, “He never found Ice, did he?”
It was immaterial since that trail was three years old. He was more interested in who hired the detective.
Heading back to the car, Garreth crossed his fingers. Let the guy call back. Let him call.
Almost at the foot of Broadway, the phone warbled. On the other end of the phone a baritone voice said, “What’s so important this time of day about a three-year-old case?”
Garreth introduced himself. “Dark is a suspect in the murder of a police officer.”
“I’m not surprised. He was a cold, creepy bastard. Only his name’s Blackburn, not Dark...Mitchell Craig Blackburn.”
Yet another name. Garreth wrote it down. “So you traced him?”
“Of course. I’m good at my job. I located him in Portland a few months later and dragged his slimy ass back to his family in Seattle. Never turning my back on him, let me tell you.”
Family? Garreth stared at the phone. While wondering who wanted to find Ice, he never thought of family. The information hit with the jolt of an earthquake, shattering assumptions around him. Ice was human after all? Really the age he seemed?
“What is it?” Raven demanded. “What’s he saying?”
Garreth knew the information should relieve him, but somehow it did not. It felt...unreal. What about his visions? The eyes he saw in them. The fangs. What about the menace he felt from the bastard? “May I have the name and number of the person who hired you?”
“Sure. It was his father, Harrison Blackburn.”
Feeling numb, Garreth wrote.
Raven danced in front of him. “What? What? Come on, damn it! Tell me what’s happening.”
Disconnecting, Garreth shoved both phone and notebook into his pocket. “In the morning we’re going to Seattle.”
She stared at him. “Seattle? Why?”
He took a deep breath. “To learn the truth about your two millennium vampire.”