DINNER WAS great. Nat and Imogen cooked together, while Tansy brought in Blossom, their adopted daughter, to help ease the tension between Chaz and Gabe. That tension was definitely still there. Gabe’s answers to all of Chaz’s questions were short and to the point. Not enough to be rude, but enough for Chaz to understand that Gabe was still not on board with letting Nat’s ex, who had given him to Atticus, be chummy at the table. Chaz tried not to let Gabe’s tone get to him, but that only worked until dessert. When Gabe got up to go outside for “some air,” Chaz glanced at Imogen, then Nat.
“Should I go follow him? Maybe beg forgiveness?”
“You know,” Imogen said, “that may not be a bad idea. If you… uh, get into a situation—”
“I’ll hang by and listen in for trouble,” Nat said. “Gabe knows not to get into fisticuffs anymore.”
“Still, I understand why he wants to. I do.”
Chaz found Gabe on the back porch, Gabe glancing out over the forest of evergreens. The sky was nearly black and pinpricked with so many stars from lack of city light. As soon as Chaz stepped outside, he started talking.
“Hey, are you thinking of—” Gabe noticed it was Chaz, not Nat. His face set to stone again and he turned back to the trees. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
“I know. Nat’s close by and says not to hit me.”
“Trust me. That’s the only reason why I’m not.”
Chaz flinched, but he nodded. He gingerly walked closer to Gabe and placed his hands on the porch railing. “And trust me when I say I understand why you’re upset.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ve apologized to Nat. I’ve… beat myself up for years over what’s happened.”
“Still doesn’t undo it.”
“I know. And that’s something I have to make peace with as much as Nat.”
“You’re not the victim here.”
“Not in this case, no. I did what I thought I had to do to survive, which made me a perpetrator because I didn’t know any better. And I’m sorry for that. But I’m genuinely trying to change.”
Gabe regarded Chaz for a moment. Compassion flashed across his face but soon disappeared with a shrug. “So your research trip, the one that led you to me, is part of your desire to change? To be part of the good guys?”
“Um, yeah. I’m investigating. I’m doing the same thing you are, though that map is way more advanced than I ever realized.”
“You guys have a map?”
“Not really. Not on the police force. We have a list of names of vamps who have been killed, and that’s only because Sully, one of Artie’s workers, helped me to translate some documents. We figure that our vampire killer is targeting vamps who he sees as responsible for his own condition. Chances are, he killed the person who infected him first. But we have no idea who that is because we can’t track the strain like you guys. And now, I can’t bring up most of my evidence to my bosses because I’ve gotten it out of turn. I thought you were the guy, actually.”
“Really? Me?”
“You took out a lot of blood from Artie’s house. And… you asked Sully to dress up like Nat. Seemed suspicious, you know?”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Ugh. Not my finest moment. I couldn’t call him here because the phone was dead and well, I just wanted company. Silly.”
“No, I get it. I picked up the same person later on that night because he looked like Nat.”
Gabe tilted his head. “Old flames die hard.”
“Except that while I loved Nat and always will, I love this new person too. And I realize now that I’d do anything to protect him. Including punching a vampire in his jaw if I thought he would hurt him. Or already had.”
Gabe eyed Chaz again, assessing the veracity of the statement. When he nodded, Chaz knew they had gotten somewhere. It wasn’t much, but a kind of understanding passed between them—they shared the same goals and objectives, even if for different reasons.
“You should take that map,” Gabe said.
“Hmm?”
“The map with all the vampire outlines. Maybe your first victim is on it and you can find the killer from there.”
“Maybe,” Chaz said. “Thank you.”
When Nat came out with mugs of coffee, Chaz took his with thanks—but soon left Gabe and Nat alone. The space between their bodies had disappeared, and it was so clear to Chaz they were made for each other.
Chaz talked to Imogen in the front foyer, and she gave him copies of all their research while she balanced Blossom on her hip. The girl was maybe four or five but small for her age. She wore flowers in her dark hair and clung to Imogen’s side.
“You asked before what Gabe and Nat have been doing, and while I wasn’t lying, I forgot to mention one other thing they’ve been working on.” Imogen pulled a card from a pocket on her blazer. It was just like the saint cards at the other crime scenes, only this time it was a woman on it.
“This… this looks like you. Or Blossom.”
Imogen grinned. “I think that’s what Nat was going for. But it’s supposed to be Saint Therese of Lisieux. She’s the patron saint of florists and gardeners, tuberculosis, and HIV/AIDs sufferers. We haven’t used this card in circulation yet. But I think it’s good for you to have it. If you meet any of the workers, they know you’re a good guy. One of us.”
Chaz nodded, swallowing hard. He flipped the card over and noticed a number written on the back. Probably hers, possibly this house. Either way, Chaz was accepted. He’d never known a feeling quite like this, other than dinner with Artie or being in Sully’s arms. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Imogen said. “Stay safe. Let us know how the investigation goes.”
“Good luck with your kids,” Chaz said. “I hope it all works out for you soon. Don’t put it off too long.”
Imogen smiled as she saw him out. Chaz knew he’d be back there again; he just hoped it would be with answers the next time around.
An hour after he drove away from the house, his phone hummed to life in his pocket. With the signal back, a dozen messages clouded his screen. He brushed all of them away and dialed the only one that mattered.
“Hi. I need to speak to Sully,” Chaz said as soon as Artie’s line was picked up. “Please. Now.”
“Okay, okay. Just let me get him, Chaz,” Tabby said. After another second, the line was transferred. “Sully?”
“Chaz. Where are you?”
“Oh, a couple hours out from Toronto. I can come to see you before midnight, though. Maybe a little after. I have so many things to show you. So many—”
“So you haven’t seen the news?”
“No. Why would I worry about the news?” Chaz remembered the protestors and the camera crew from that morning, along with the slogans about vampire blood on the force. “Is this about the Citizen’s Brigade? It’s nothing, Sully. Just ignore them. I thought Jack would have gotten rid of them by now.”
When a cop pulled up behind Chaz’s car, he didn’t adjust his speed or worry that much about talking on his cell phone. It was dark outside, and even if the officer wanted to write up Chaz for not using a hands-free device, he could cite the fact that he was delivering important information about an active case.
“Chaz, where are you exactly?” Sully said, his voice hitched with worry. “Can you get away? Get to a safe house?”
“What? Why?”
“They know. They know you’re a vampire.”
“What?”
“It’s everywhere. Someone talked. I don’t know if it was Reggie who figured it out and sold his story, or some reporter named Igby who keeps appearing on the news, but they have you. They know. And there’s a warrant for your arrest.”
Chaz swallowed. The cop tailing him now had his lights flashing. There was no use running, no use turning off his company issued phone that no doubt had GPS in it. He was trapped.
“Sully?”
“Yeah?” His voice trembled. “They have you right now, don’t they?”
“Yeah, they do. It’s okay, though.”
“Fuck. I’ll call someone—Athena? She was the lawyer in this mess. Nothing like having a goddess lawyer on your side, right? I’ll get it—”
“No, Sully, listen to me closely. Make sure you take no new clients tonight. Let no one get close to you. I have to go now.”
Chaz disconnected the phone before he stayed on long enough for it to be traced. He threw it out the window and hoped the highway would take care of it. He glanced at the files Imogen had given him and tried to shove them under the seat—not that it would do any good.
There are two sides now, Imogen had said. You have to pick where you want to go.
Chaz pulled his car to the side of the road, his hands at ten and two, and prepared himself for his fate.