“Definitely a vampire kill.” Jolene glanced around the room. “You have a measuring tape? I want to see how big this patch of missing skin is.”
I nodded, hustling into my bedroom, where I retrieved one from my dresser.
Jolene gave me a long look as she took it. “I never get used to some aspects of this job. The vampire kills are always hard to cope with,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice. She measured the wound on his chest. “Five inches by three. Whoever stripped the skin did a clean, neat job of it. This isn’t the first time they’ve done this—it’s too clean, professional. Either they have a delicate touch or they were a doctor or a butcher. Whatever the case, he…she…our killer has a skilled hand.”
“Could it be a woman?” I hadn’t entertained that thought.
“Why not? Vampires can mesmerize, remember? The females have as much strength as the males. There’s no reason it can’t be a woman.” She stood up, staring at Tygur. “Can you think of any reason why somebody might have wanted a piece of his flesh?”
Shrugging, I sat down on the bed. “I told you, he talked about his job but it was always from the outside in. Never anything that might be sensitive information. I suppose…I should let Wynter know. Some of my people have very odd habits. Stealing flesh might be a fetish for some.”
Jolene shuddered. “Oh, that’s something to look forward to, all right. I don’t like to speak ill of your people, but Wynter’s a freak and everybody knows it. She’s so cold she makes the dead look warm. She also doesn’t cotton up very cozy to Weres. Go ahead and talk to her if you want, but I’m not going to be coming along for the ride. I wouldn’t be able to convince my supervisor that I should spend the time on it, anyway. Seriously, they’ve cut the budget for vampire investigations down to the bare bone. We get almost no time allotted to these cases.”
“Do you think it’s lack of financing, or that the Deadfather might be pulling the strings?”
That was the wrong question to ask. Jolene pressed her lips together and stood, packing her things back in her kit.
“Go talk to Wynter. Find out what you can. But since you saw a black mist and smelled anise, I’m reporting this as a vampire execution. There’s no doubt given the holes on his neck and lack of blood. The coroner will verify it, of course.” She hesitated. “You can really get an audience with the queen?”
I nodded. Wynter had relocated from the United Kingdom to the US. She lived on the Eastside, near Woodinville. Her sister, Summerlyn, had relocated to Australia.
The Fae Nation was as crazy as they come, and I was part of the whole wild bunch. I loved it, though I tried to keep out of the politics as much as possible. Wynter was manipulative and calculating and not exactly fond of anybody outside of her own realm. But I had a badge to the inner court, thanks to my mother making certain I was received when I was a little girl. I did what I had to in order to maintain my status as one of the insiders.
“I’m recognized by the court.”
“Good. Because I doubt if I am.” Weres and Fae generally did not get along.
“All right. I’ll talk to her and let you know what I find out, but you owe me one. Meanwhile, I’ll ask Dani if she knows of any spells that witches use that might require human flesh. I wouldn’t put it past them that the answer’ll be a big fat yes. Dani’s kind scare me more than vampires, at times.”
Nate was my buddy. Dani—Danielle Halloran—was my best friend. She was a witch who had been married to a man named Greg Fallow, until he had been caught and turned into a vampire. That had, of course, ended the marriage, and left her teetering on the edge for a long time. It had been several years ago that it happened, but she hated vampires now. She seldom mentioned Greg, but I knew he haunted her dreams and memories.
Jolene let out a snort. “Witches scare the hell out of me, too. Weres don’t get along with magic very well. Okay, I’ll ask Lucas to call in the body-bag crew. We’ll get Tygur out of your house and contact Tricia. This is already headed into the unsolved files. I’ve noted it as a vampire kill and the coroner will authenticate. That’s the best the department can do. Nobody can control the bloodsuckers. We’re trying to convince the Deadfather that it’s in his best interests to encourage his people to work with us rather than against us, but he’s a hard nut to crack. As hard as Wynter. The vamps are slower to change than the Fae.”
I walked her downstairs, and offered her a cup of tea. She asked for a latte, so Nate fired up the espresso machine while Jolene asked Lucas to wait on the porch for the coroner.
“Be careful. The vampire might still be around, looking for more. Or it might have called one of its buddies,” she said as Lucas headed out into the cold.
The coroner was a formality, really. The moment an execution was labeled as vampiric, the body would be consecrated and buried. A grave watcher would guard the grave to make certain the victim didn’t rise, which happened anywhere from immediately to five days after death. After five days, the victim was safe and considered fully dead. There were guardians in every cemetery waiting to put the new vampires down. The Deadfather didn’t like it, but he hadn’t moved to stop the practice.
Jolene leaned against the door.
“I didn’t want Lucas to hear what I’m going to tell you next because I still don’t know if he’s safe or not—too many cops are plants now and I’m walking a thin line due to an incident I really don’t want to get into right now, especially with you. But I think you should run this by Archer Desmond. There’s something about Tygur’s death that isn’t tracking quite right to me. My department won’t be able to do diddlysquat because…well, vampires. But I think I can convince Archer to take a look into it because of the missing skin.”
“Who’s Archer Desmond?”
“A chaos demon who runs a PI firm. He does a lot of work on the side for the unit. I’d like you to talk to him, if you will. He’ll probably do the first look pro bono, but after that, if you want to continue, you’ll have to hire him yourself.”
Lovely. Just what I needed—another way to spend money. “I already offered to talk to Wynter, but now you want me to talk to a chaos demon? You really believe in payback, don’t you?”
She ducked her head. “You know it’s not like that.”
I let out a long sigh. “Yeah, I know. But chaos demons? They’re such a barrel of laughs.”
“I know, I know…but he’s good at what he does.” She softened. “So, how are you?”
“It goes…same old, same old.” I hesitated. Maybe it wasn’t the wisest thing to do, but I caught her gaze and asked, “So, are you seeing anybody?”
She blinked, then slowly nodded. “Yes, actually. I am.”
“A werewolf?”
“No, he’s…he’s human.”
At my double take, she shrugged. “What did you expect?” But there was an edge to her voice that told me she was bristling. No doubt she had taken a lot of flack from her friends. Weres weren’t big on interspecies marriage or courtship, either. In fact, Weres made conservatives look liberal.
“I just…I just wondered. I want you to be happy, Jolene. I miss our friendship.” And I realized that it was true—I missed hanging out with Jolene, having a beer in the evenings with her while we sat on the porch talking about our day.
She must have caught my mood, because she let out a shuddering sigh. “I miss it too. Maybe…maybe somehow we can get back there. Or to a new place. I’ll call you later this week. We’ll talk.” She glanced over at the window and suddenly, the Jolene I remembered vanished and the cop reappeared.
“Okay, the coroner is here. We’ll get Tygur out of your house. Strengthen your wards and find the weak links. If you’re interested, call me for Archer’s number—I don’t have it on me.” And with that, she got back to work.
After the corpse wagon had come and gone, and Jolene and Lucas cleared out, Nate and I sat at the table, silently bingeing on cookies and tea. Nate graciously avoided asking any questions. He had been there during the big blowup, and he knew better than to drag it back over the coals.
But seeing Jolene had disconcerted me. I wanted to tell myself our friendship had been a train wreck—and it had been a spectacular one—but it was hard to let go of someone I cared about.
At least the interruption had taken my mind off the hunger for a little while, but now it slammed home again. I needed to feed. If Nate left, I could head into the streets. I was about to ask him to go home when the phone rang.
Relieved, I grabbed my phone and glanced at the caller’s name. Dani Halloran.
“Dani, thank the gods you called. I need to talk to you, the sooner the better.”
But she overrode me. “Lily? We have a problem.”
Uh oh. She didn’t sound happy. Dani was Irish, with a temper to match, and when she was upset, heads rolled. Sometimes, other body parts rolled right along with them.
“Just what I need. What’s going on?”
“Rebecca’s dead. She’s been murdered.”
My stomach lurched. Rebecca was a member of Dani’s coven. “Dani, come over now.”
She paused, then said, “Before I do, I need to tell you something else. I’ve heard rumors on the street and I think they may play into Rebecca’s death.”
A premonition swept over me. Whatever she had to tell me was sweeping in with trouble and mayhem and death. I felt like I did before a thunderstorm hit, when the air was charged.
I steeled myself. “What did you hear?”
“Charles Schafer escaped. They think he made his way back here to Seattle. I’ll be over in ten minutes.” And with that she hung up. I stared at the phone in my hand, very still.
The Souljacker was back. Which meant that a whole lot of people, including Dani, Nate, and myself, were in danger. Because Charles, aka the Souljacker, was stark, raving mad. And the Souljacker? Was a vampire.