Blood Song (6 page)

I looked from one of them to the other. “Here’s what I propose. I call the police, arrange to come in and make my statement.” Not that I could say much, with no memories of whatever had happened. But I might be able to
get
some information. They might even do a memory enhancement for me. Or not. That sort of thing was only used as a last resort—too traumatic to the witness. Besides, the courts were split on whether or not the evidence obtained that way could be used because of proven cases of mental manipulation. Still, worth a shot.

“After that I go to Vicki, see what she knows, maybe see if she can help me track my sire’s daytime hidey-hole. If that doesn’t work, we go back to wherever you found me and see if we can find any clues.” If my sire was going to be stalking me with death or undeath in mind, I wanted to get the jump on him. Preferably in full daylight with as much specialized weaponry as I could carry. I’ve fought vamps. I’ve killed them. But mostly they’ve been babies, new to the game. Vampires that are old enough to actually bring humans over are good. Scary good. They’ve got strength, magic, mind games, the works. I was going to need every advantage I could get to get close enough to kill the bastard, before he killed me. Vicki has a better than 99 percent accuracy rate. Odds are she either knew what was going on or could find out. And it certainly wouldn’t hurt to try.

Emma nodded, which I expected since she knows Vicki nearly as well as I do. But I hadn’t expected Jones to speak.

“I’d recommend that. But I’d suggest you see Vicki first. The police are open twenty-four/seven. Birchwoods isn’t.”
That
was interesting. How did Jones know about Vicki? While it was possible Emma or Kevin had told him, it didn’t seem likely. No, I was betting that Jones had found out the information on his own. If so, he’d been researching all of us. Maybe he’d done it after Kevin had called him. But I doubted it. He’d have had to work fast and be amazingly good. Because Birchwoods takes confidentiality very,
very
seriously. If a starlet or executive wants sympathy, they check into one of the other rehab facilities. If they want secrecy to the grave and beyond, they choose Birchwoods. It’s pricey as hell, but for folks who value their privacy Birchwoods is worth every penny. And there was no way Vicki’s parents would leak she was there. It would be too damaging to their lily-white reputations. Hell, they’re so worried about their image that they hire a double to impersonate her for the press. So how had Jones known?

I turned toward him, my expression studiously blank. “Are you in this for the duration?”

He shrugged. “I owe Kevin Landingham a significant favor. Helping you will repay that.”

“Fair enough.”

I turned, giving Emma a long, hard look. What I was about to do was virtually guaranteed to annoy her, but it was necessary. If she came along, she’d get in the way. Besides, I didn’t want to wait for Kevin, but I wanted him riding shotgun as soon as possible. Call me paranoid, but I didn’t trust Jones with my back. I just didn’t know him well enough. “When your brother gets back—”

“I’m going with you—,” she interrupted, but I kept talking over her.

“—tell him where we’re headed so that he can catch up.”

“We can leave him a note. I’m going with you. I am
not
sitting here and waiting like a good little girl.” She wasn’t shouting, wasn’t hysterical. In fact, there was a level of cold, hard determination I’d never seen in her before. It made no sense. Why now of all times, and about this?

“Em—”

“I’m
not.
”

“You’re not what?” We turned in unison at the sound of Kevin’s voice.

He stood outlined in the doorway, looking better than any man had a right to. My heart sped up at the sight of him. At the moment, his sandy blond hair was just a little long, so that it fell in front of eyes the color of a perfect summer sky. His T-shirt and jeans were faded and worn, and just tight enough to show off a body to die for. I never managed to look at him without my body reacting. It’s not just his looks, either. He’s the whole package, brains, body,
and
a sense of humor. His strong jaw is softened by the deepest dimples. He has a smile that could make the clothes melt right off my body. I’ve wanted him from the minute I first laid eyes on him. I wouldn’t have done anything about it when I was with Bruno, but that’s been over for a long time now. But Kevin’s with Amy. I don’t know if she’s a werewolf or not, but it doesn’t matter. I have ethics. Besides, that woman is scary.

“What are you doing up?” The words were directed at me. The
look,
however, was for Jones first, then Emma.

“I did it,” Jones said. He gave Kevin a broad smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s necessary. We have to find her sire. Doing so in daylight, when he’s helpless, would be preferable, don’t you think?”

“Not if it kills Celia in the process.” Kevin snarled.

The smile grew, and Jones’s eyes started to twinkle. “Well, you’re in luck. She’s not dead.”

I let out a very unladylike snort of laughter. I couldn’t help it. I’m a sucker for sarcasm. Besides, he was right.

All three of them turned to glare at me. I not only didn’t wither, I didn’t even flinch. Bully for me. I held up a placating hand. “There’s no point in arguing. I’m up. No harm done. And I’ve got work to do.”

Kevin’s expression grew stubborn. He crossed his arms over his chest, his stance balanced and solid. “Tell me what you remember.”

Shit. He would ask that.
“Not a damned thing.”

“The fourteenth,” he said with significance. Should that mean something? I already knew I’d lost a full day.

Well,
crap. Yesterday had been Vicki’s birthday. I’d gotten ready to go, but had I even visited her? I didn’t remember it. She’d be upset that I was injured. But she’d be hurt if I forgot her birthday. And I wanted her to have her gift. I mean, that present had taken
months
to find and get the spells worked. But she wouldn’t know that if I hadn’t made it out there to give it to her.

Kevin stared at me for a long moment, as though he were reading my mind. “You think you’re fit to go out hunting your sire, when you can’t even remember a birthday?” He didn’t bother to hide his derision, which raised my hackles.

“I
think
I’m not going to have much choice, Kevin. Jones just told me I’m going to feel
compelled
to find him pretty soon. I’m not just going to sit around waiting for him to hunt me, and would rather go looking before I turn into a drooling idiot. You don’t go after a master vamp after dark, and if I don’t find and kill him first, he’s going to be stalking me just as soon as the sun goes down—unless your friend Jones over there was lying.”

“He’s not,” Kevin admitted grudgingly. “But
you
don’t have to be the one to hunt him.”

“Did you have any luck tracking him back from where you found Celia?” Jones’s tone was deceptively bland.

Kevin answered Jones’s question with one of his own. “It’s broad daylight. Celia. Do you even know if you
can
go outside?” Kevin’s voice had softened just a hair, as if he sensed the distress I wasn’t willing to show. Maybe he could smell it? I didn’t know enough about werewolves to know one way or the other. I’d passed up on that class in favor of two semesters of history of magic.

I flinched involuntarily, just a little. I needed to keep my head in the game, but I really was having a hard time focusing.
Shit.
“Only one way to find out.” I gave him my perkiest insincere smile and was rewarded by a dark flush creeping up his neck.

“You”—Jones looked from me to Kevin and back again—“are either very brave or very stupid.”

“Both,” Emma said drily.

“Gee, thanks.” I was still lisping a little but was determined to ignore it. I rummaged around in the duffel for sweat socks and running shoes, then plopped down on the edge of the slab to pull them on, leaving the others to argue among themselves, which they proceeded to do. With vigor. I ignored it for the most part. I had other things on my mind. Like sunlight, spontaneous combustion, the fact that I would have a really,
really
hard time explaining an aversion to holy objects to my gran.

The three of them were still arguing when I finished with the shoes and socks. I think that’s why they didn’t hear the commotion in the hallway. Emma might have missed it either way, but werewolves have excellent hearing and from the jolt I got when I touched him, Jones wasn’t your average human, either. But I heard and, even more weird,
scented
it. Three men in hard-soled dress shoes were coming down the hall. They walked with the kind of confidence that comes with the weight of authority. I smelled gun oil and the tiniest hint of powder, as if the weapon hadn’t been cleaned quite as well as it should have been after its last use.

They slowed to a stop outside the heavy steel of the main door. I heard the metal shift as someone began pulling it open, and a voice I recognized as belonging to Dr. Reynolds from the university health clinic, babbling nervously. I watched, alert, as their figures were silhouetted against the sunlight of the glass-walled outer hallway. The sunlight seemed too bright, like staring into a spotlight onstage. It made my skin itch even from a distance, and I felt my muscles cringe. That annoyed me.

From the corner of my eye I saw the argument between Emma and Kevin cease. Jones had simply disappeared. Like magic. Except that I know magic … and nobody I’d ever known or heard of was capable of that particular trick.

The man who held the door was familiar to me, and probably to every student who graced the halls of USC Bayview. University president Donald Lackley had movie star good looks, a permanent tan, and shoes that had once roamed free in the Florida swamplands. His designer suit was impeccable, perfectly tailored, and probably worth as much as the car I drive. He is a
presence
, and as such never misses a photo op or a chance to cadge donations for the campus. That said, he is still one
hell
of an able administrator. No detail is small enough to escape the notice of those sharp dark eyes. Most people would have been surprised that he’d choose to lead the charge down here himself. I wasn’t. If he was here he could control the situation. Like most administrators, Lackley was
all
about control. If he hadn’t already been married, I’d have said he was the perfect match for Emma Landingham.

“Good morning, Emma … Kevin.” Lackley’s voice was much cooler than usual when he spoke to them. He knew my name but didn’t greet me. I wasn’t surprised.

He looked at Emma. “Dr. Reynolds explained to me that there’s been an …
incident
involving Ms. Graves.”

Kevin glared at the good doctor, who flinched a little under the heat of his gaze.

“I did say you had the situation in hand,” the doctor mumbled.

Lackley spared the doctor an eloquent
look.
The poor man shifted nervously from foot to foot. He was a small, mousy little man with a receding hairline and a slight paunch that didn’t show when he was wearing a lab coat. He seemed to be a fairly good doctor but a poor politician. Today he just couldn’t catch a break. No matter what he did, he’d be pissing somebody off.

“You did. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t personally check to make sure that a potentially deadly monster hadn’t been brought onto the campus.”

I smiled and hoped the fangs didn’t show. “I’m fine, President Lackley. But thank you for your
concern
.” Unlike Kevin and the doc, I don’t work for the university and am thus exempt from kissing administrative booty. So long as I paid my tuition on time, there wasn’t much they could do to me. I could be as sarcastic as I wanted—provided I didn’t appear to be a threat.

I saw the muscles in Lackley’s jaw tighten, but he didn’t say a word in response. So I turned my attention from him to the third man in their happy little group.

C. J. “Rocky” Rockford was the head of the campus security forces. We’d had occasion to run into each other, and while he knew he probably shouldn’t like me, he did. We even went to the shooting range and worked out in the gym and weight room together occasionally. “Hey, Rock.”

Rocky’s a big guy, former boxer and tough as they come. His skin is deep brown with copper highlights. He keeps his hair cut short enough that you can see the scalp beneath it. He isn’t a handsome man, but he is
impressive.
Which allows him to, in the immortal words of Patrick Swayze, “be nice, until it is time
not
to be nice.” Rocky was always armed, but today he was carrying a plain black nylon satchel. I was betting I knew what was inside: holy items, a stake, a mallet, and a saw—your typical vampire kit.

“Graves. What happened?” His voice didn’t sound particularly friendly this morning and he was rubbing his finger along a ridge of scar tissue at the bridge of his nose. He does that when he’s nervous. I couldn’t say as I blamed him. Never makes things easy when the ultimate boss takes a
personal
interest. Plus, I’d like to think Rocky hadn’t been looking forward to staking and beheading a workout partner.

“I don’t really remember much about it. I should be dead, from what I’ve gathered. But I’m not and, despite the fangs, I remember who I am. I was out on the slab until just a few minutes ago.”

He blinked a couple of times in surprise but finally managed to ask, “Hit? Here on campus?”

Kevin answered that one. “No.”

“Then why is she here?” Lackley’s gaze locked with Kevin’s and neither of them seemed inclined to back down.

“It was my fault.” Emma spoke quietly. “I’m a level-four clairvoyant. I knew Celia was in serious danger. I called my father and brother and told them what I saw. My brother went to get her. Dad’s in Chicago on business, so he called Dr. Reynolds. Nobody wanted to risk what happened in that emergency room in Denver, so he brought her here and brought the equipment in. The restraints on this table are graded to hold an uncontrolled ghoul if need be. We figured they’d be strong enough to handle whatever she became.”

I was surprised. Emma’s gift is sporadic at best, and usually only works in connection with people she cares about. I wouldn’t have put myself on that list. She’d saved my life. Of course, she’d turned around and risked it a couple hours later, but still. I turned to look her in the eye. “Thank you.”