“That was fast. Did they teleport here?” Leona asked Murray.
He shrugged and left her alone with a flushed Pallas.
“You called Homeland?” Pallas leaned forward across the table and for the first time since she’d met the vampire, he looked worried. “Why would you do that? Do you want me dead?”
She rose to follow Murray through the open door but hesitated at the exit. She didn’t owe Pallas anything, especially an explanation, but her recent dealing with the vampire showed him to be a jerk, but a cooperative jerk. Hell, the FBI had borrowed one of his werewolves to solve a serial killer case in Chicago. They had even offered the shifter a job. This wasn’t adding up properly. “This case is supernatural and we’re not equipped to deal with you.” Not to mention, she was legally bound to inform Homeland Security of any strange happenings.
Exiting the room, she took a deep breath. Her aching gut whispered Pallas was innocent. She shoved those instincts aside. This wasn’t her field of expertise. Homeland Security dealt with these kinds of cases all the time and were the vampire/shifter specialists. They would get to the bottom of this fiasco.
Inside her office sat two men in suits, relaxed and chatting with an exhausted-looking Joe. Her deputy must have just returned from talking to Bob’s wife. They stood when she entered, extending their hands. “Agent Gillipsie,” the first one introduced himself. “This is my partner, Agent Thomas.”
“Sheriff Lee.” She shook hands—firm, quick, and brief. “Thank you for being so prompt.”
“We were in the area when the call came through.” Agent Thomas tugged at his tie to loosen it around his neck. He seemed like someone who would be more accustomed to fatigues than suits. She recognized the type. Her first ex-husband was a marine. Fancy clothes couldn’t hide battle hard muscles. “We’d like to question the vampire now.”
“I thought we would review the case and evidence first.” She held out the file Murray had given her.
“We already did.” Agent Gillipsie offered her a dimple filled smile. “Seems like a cut and dry case. Vampire got lazy and didn’t clean up after himself.”
The pit in her empty stomach grew deeper. “He claims he’s innocent.” How could they have reviewed the case when she hadn’t even opened the file in her hand yet? She believed in the justice system. Innocent until proven guilty, but she’d heard the rumors about supernaturals getting unfair treatment. She didn’t want to believe it.
“Don’t they all?” Both agents laughed as they exited her office.
She exchanged a worried glance with Joe, but the agents waited within earshot, so she couldn’t speak freely with her deputy. He looked pale and worn out. It must have been terrible being the bearer of bad news. She squeezed his shoulder before following the agents. “This way.” She led the Homeland officers to the interrogation room.
Pallas still sat at the table, hands cuffed behind his back. The black glare he aimed their way froze the marrow in her bones. He had never given her cause to fear him until now.
Had she made an error in judgment? Maybe he had killed Bob.
Agent Gillipsie slipped his suit jacket off, exposing his gun harness, most likely filled with expensive silver bullets, and a sharp wooden stake hung from his belt.
Pallas’ gaze narrowed at the sight.
Agent Thomas stood guard at the door, stake in hand. “Are those standard cuffs?”
“Our office doesn’t own any other kind.” She cleared her throat, choking on the testosterone flooding the air. “Pallas, these agents are from Homeland Security. They have a few questions for you.”
“Gillipsie and Thomas.” The vampire grinned exposing his oversized fangs. “Nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand but—” He showed them his cuffed wrists.
“We heard you could read thoughts.” Gillipsie sat, crossing his legs, hands resting on his knee.
“You’ve met?” She spoke on the heel of GIllipsie’s comment. Read minds? She hadn’t known vampires could do that and she’d been burning the midnight oil reading everything she could find on them and shifters since they had moved into her county. So that meant Pallas had just read the agents’ minds?
Her heart skipped a beat. Oh my God, had he ever read hers?
“I have excellent hearing.”
Her heart raced. “So you didn’t read their minds?” When they had met at the diner a few weeks ago, she had had some pretty inappropriate thoughts. If he’d read those, she’d stake him herself.
“Where is the fun in that?” He mimicked Gillipsie’s posture though his hands were restrained. “How may I be of service, gentlemen?”
“We’ve heard rumors of the Nosferatu clan, but had only caught fleeting glimpses of your people. I’m honored to finally speak to one of you.”
“Flattery is unbecoming of a warrior.” Pallas watched the agent with dead eyes. It was unnerving.
Gillipsie’s fake smile faded a little. “How many of you are there?”
“I am the last survivor.”
“That’s a lie. We know Daedalus resides in the Chicago area and has ties to the Vanguard wolf pack.” The agent set his stake on the table top. “Let’s try this again. How many Nosferatu exist?”
Pallas stared ahead, ignoring everyone in the room.
Gillipsie exchanged looks with Thomas, neither of them moving.
Leona rocked back on her heels, trying not to break the awkward silence.
The vampire blinked. “Are you expecting me to answer?”
“What does this have to do with the murder?” She set her fist on the table between both man and vampire, drawing their attention. “I asked you here to assist me in finding out the truth. Not run your own personal inquisition.”
Pallas rolled his shoulders as if they were cramping. The heavy muscles under his T-shirt bulging. Only then did she realize he was wearing just a T-shirt and jeans in January like it was a summer’s day. No coat, mitts, or hat. This was upstate New York. The edge of the Arctic Circle. She really had to stop thinking and treating him as if he were human.
“These questions have everything to do with our investigation and more, Sheriff Lee. More than you have clearance for, so if you could excuse us.”
Agent Thomas cupped her elbow and tried to lead her out of her own interrogation room.
She yanked free. “I don’t think so. This is still my county and my station. I allowed you to question my suspect that I brought in.” She pointed to the exit of the station. “Out.”
Thomas loomed over her. “This is a Homeland case now.” He pulled out his cell phone. “My supervisor is just a call away, but you know you’re wasting time.” His gaze narrowed as he leaned forward. “Why are you so concerned about him? He’s a mass murderer.”
Over the agent’s shoulder, she glimpsed Pallas drop his head. That pit in her stomach? Yeah, it was a black hole now. “What do you mean mass murder?” What had she stumbled upon?
Gillipsie pulled out a note book similar to hers and read. “Pallas Cenric Aldwin Rudel Wolfe. Last known residence was Prussia, where he led a vast army during the vampire wars around three hundred years ago. Then last year he traveled to the United States on a student visa.”
“I have a permanent resident status now.” Pallas still wouldn’t look at her.
If he was really dangerous, why would Homeland Security send only two agents to apprehend him or were they just two idiots?
Or was she the idiot?
She massaged the bridge of her nose, trying to ease the growing headache. “And?”
“The Nosferatu clan is a secret society among vampires. We know very little about them except every vampire we ask is terrified of them.” Gillipsie tucked his note book back in his shirt pocket.
“Last I checked, being a Nosferatu vampire wasn’t against the law.” Secret society or not. If they brought up the Knights Templar or the Holy Grail, she was going to section three-thirty the agents for psychiatric evaluation.
Pallas raised his chin to give her an I-told-you-so roll of his eyes.
“They’ve been around for centuries, Leona.” Gillipsie uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, excitement flushing his cheeks. “Maybe eons. They have been in the shadows of our history with living memory of those times. Do you have any clue how powerful and dangerous some of them are? We’re talking mind control.”
“I don’t recall giving you permission to use my first name, Agent Gillipsie. Nor do I recall giving it to you.” Which meant they had done their research prior to their arrival. It wouldn’t be so alarming if they hadn’t arrived so flipping quickly. How long had they been monitoring her small town? “I actually don’t care about secret societies. I care about the one that exists around me right now. This town and its safety.”
He jerked as if she had slapped him. “Of course.” He smoothed his shirt and straightened his tie. “Pallas Cenric Aldwin Rudel Wolfe, you’re under arrest for the murder of Bob Sanders. You have…” Gillipsie read Pallas his rights.
The vampire glared at her the whole time. Was he reading her mind? At this point, it didn’t matter. She had nothing to hide. Not even her shock at how quickly Homeland jumped on arresting him. The evidence was damning, but nothing was concrete. They hadn’t even looked at the examiner’s report.
“Do you understand your rights?” she asked him once the agents were done.
Pallas rose to his feet, causing both agents to grab their stakes. “I didn’t kill Bob Sanders. I think this is where I ask for my phone call.”
“Sheriff Lee is no longer involved in this case.” Thomas guided her toward the door.
She twisted around before being shoved out of the room. “I’ll make sure you get that call.”
The Homeland agents had secured Pallas’ ankles to his wrist with cuffs and chains made of a silver alloy. This would concern him if he was a regular vampire. The silver still made him itch, which was surprising after all these centuries. Nosferatu weren’t bothered by the touch of the precious metal, not like regular vampires or shifters. He wasn’t like any other Nosferatu, so he got a rash.
For hours upon boring hours, they questioned him about his clan, their history, whereabouts, numbers. He didn’t know the answers. It wasn’t like they Facebooked. When they crossed paths, it took everything they had not to kill each other. The relationship he had with Daedalus was unusual. But even then, they barely tolerated each other.
Him, because he needed a guide to this new age. Daedalus, because his pretty little vampire wife liked Pallas. Seriously, who wouldn’t?
For his amusement, he gave the agents false information, weaving tales of treasures, secret vaults and spies in the government. By the time he was done, Gillipsie seemed on the verge of having an orgasm.
Around four in the morning, he toyed with the idea of killing them and escaping the station. He had promised Sheriff Lee to follow her lead through the human process of their justice system, but it seemed she’d lost control of his fate. Not to mention, the rash was making him cranky. But if he went on a killing spree, his brother would drop his sponsorship, he would lose his little pack of wolves, and Sheriff Lee would shoot him on sight.
No doubt about it that woman had balls. She hadn’t batted an eyelash when putting Gillipsie in his place. Pallas had no doubt she had allowed the agent to push her out of the room. There was little she could do for him inside here, but he tired of waiting.
For interrogators, they weren’t very good at their job. Where was the torture? They hadn’t even clipped his nails, let alone pry one off his finger or toes. He missed the old days.
“That’s enough for tonight, Gillipsie.” Agent Thomas spoke from behind Pallas where he had spent most of the night quiet as a nightmare, listening to Pallas’ lies. “We’ll take this up again at headquarters tomorrow night. It’s almost dawn.”
Headquarters? That meant leaving Alberg and his lands. Not happening.
Gillipsie opened the door to the room and gestured for one of the deputies. “Do you have a vampire proof cell?”
“Does Alberg look like a place big enough to need one?” Deputy Joe responded.
Pallas hid his disappointment. The concept of a vampire-proof anything piqued his curiosity at the challenge.
“We’ll keep him in the chains then.” Thomas gripped Pallas’ upper arm, dragging him from the chair where he had grown roots. “There needs to be a guard on his door at all times.”
“Sure.” Joe and Wesley followed Pallas as another deputy led him to the basement where they passed an empty holding cell. Alberg wasn’t a hotbed of crime. They locked him up in the cell at the end of the hall.
“What about my phone call?” he asked, eyeing the narrow bed with a thin mattress. He had grown soft now that he owned a lovely memory foam bed. If he’d gone to “sleep” on this bed all those centuries ago, instead of a stone slab, he might have been too comfortable and not have agreed to hunt Daedalus down.
“You will get your call from headquarters. Not before.” Thomas left with Gillipsie on his heels.
A rectangular narrow window with bars let Pallas view the sky. The cold iron bars of the door pressed against his back. Dark night had passed and predawn was upon them.
“I need a room without a view.” Pallas faced Deputy Joe. “I tend to get sunburned.”
“I bet.” He crossed his arms. “Bob had two baby girls with his wife. They’d been married for seven years.” He cleared his throat and Pallas could sense his rage. It boiled like an inferno in Joe’s blood. “I had to sit her down and explain he wouldn’t be ever coming home again.”
Pallas rested his forehead against the bar. “I didn’t kill him.” He didn’t understand why it mattered what the deputy thought of him. He knew his innocence, but he had been trying real hard to fit into the small town ever since he moved here. Hell, he’d gone to bagged blood so he wouldn’t hunt his neighbors. It did matter that they knew he was innocent.
Joe shook his head. “I don’t believe you and I hope you burn slow.” He closed and locked the door that led to the stairwell, leaving Pallas alone to the mercy of the sun.