Chapter Eleven
In their room at Otto’s, Seb grabbed his suitcase and began to unpack. As if organizing his drawers could bring order to his inner turmoil.
That vampire attack. He’d been scared shitless when Brie put herself in danger. Proud of her ingenuity. And her reckless, amazing bravery lit so many conflicting emotions, it tied him up in knots.
He opened a drawer and settled his shirts inside, automatically leaving her half of the drawer. She unzipped her suitcase, lifted out a stack of tops, and slid them into the drawer next to his.
Somewhere along Main, her soft scent of arousal teased his nose. Suddenly, he wanted her with such desperation it was all he could do not to dash back to their room, slide between her thighs, and give her such a good time they both screamed until they were hoarse.
He opened the next drawer and added pants. She did the same. As they unpacked together, Seb warmed, surprised how natural their teamwork felt. Companionable. He was almost happy.
Happiness. So easily punctured, so easily turned to pain.
Damn it, he hadn’t been deluged with this much emotion—this conflicted—since he’d been human. He’d stopped caring about anything and everything exactly to avoid this.
He needed his faculties intact to solve what was arguably his most critical case ever. Yet when he needed it most, his shield of cold clarity was cracking, deserting him.
He’d never had this trouble before meeting Brie.
Every breath he took was filled with her tangy, sweet scent. Every sound he heard was embellished by the bell-like ringing of her jewelry. Every touch of her curvy body, so warm, so alive, led to him wanting more.
And now he was going to spend the night in bed with her, expecting to sleep?
Yeah, that was doomed to failure.
He had to get out of here. He yanked open the top drawer. Seeing her clothes next to his looked achingly right. Angry with himself, he pulled a shirt from his stack—a T-shirt—got rid of the remains of his dress shirt, and threw the tee on.
“What are you doing?” She paused, zipping her case shut. “You said you wanted to sleep on what you learned.”
“On second thought, it’s better if I can get as much done before sunrise as I can. I have to meet Keydew anyway. I might as well go to Dawn Truck Lines.”
“Dawn? Oh, to check on Bruno’s alibi.”
“That, too.” As long as he was changing, he’d trade his dress pants for jeans. He grabbed a pair and headed into the bathroom.
“There’s another reason?”
He found himself leaving the door cracked so they could continue to talk. Not because he liked talking with her. Because…shit. He liked talking with her. “Yeah. Camille seemed pretty sure my perpetrator isn’t Elias—the leader of the Iowa Alliance, that is. Also known as the Ancient One.” Pulling on jeans, he gave her a short rundown of vampire politics, broad strokes only. It gratified him that she listened attentively without interrupting, and gradually his temper eased.
“So Lorenzo is head of the New York vampires, and the Ancient One is head of the Alliance?” she asked as he came out of the bathroom. “Which do you work for?”
“The FBI.” He tipped a grin at her as he opened his weapons case, her gaze following his actions as he strapped on his shin sheath and slid a nice, heavy Greek-style kopis knife into it. Shaking down his pant leg, he reached for his Egyptian khopesh sickle sword. Stopped. That was more for mass vampire destruction, and besides, the butcher-knife-like kopis was easier to hide. “I’m unaligned.”
When he finished, both arming himself and talking, her only comment was, “You don’t like this Ancient One, do you?”
He managed a grim smile. “It’s complicated. But if he isn’t behind the murders, I have to look at other area vampires. Dawn Truck Lines would’ve been on my agenda even if I wasn’t checking out Bruno’s alibi. The carrier is a haven for vampires unaligned with any area master.”
“How do you know that?”
“There are terminals all over the country, including New York.”
“Oh.” She got out her art pad and a pencil case and sat. “What are you looking for, anyway? Besides a vampire from Meiers Corners?” She paused. “Or is it need-to-know?”
Maybe it was the fact that she’d listened so attentively. Maybe it was that she really seemed to be interested. But he wanted to share the information. Share his work.
Maybe he was just going insane.
“The killer is a youngling—maybe a year on this side of the grave, no more—with unusually good control. That’s why I expected a fledgling made and directed by the Ancient One. If it’s an unaligned youngster, I’d need to figure out a different motive.”
“Young.” Frowning, she started sketching. “Like Officer Keydew?”
“I don’t think he’s as young as he looks. Frankly, I don’t know what to make of him.” Seb’s frustration bubbled out on a disgusted tch. “Keydew smelled of vampire, and then he didn’t. I’ve never encountered that before. I need to talk to him, to discover how he managed that.” Embarrassed at doing all the talking, he indicated her pad and pencil. “What are you doing?”
She rewarded him with a beaming smile that arrowed straight to his heart. The burst of happiness discombobulated him, and he missed her first words before he got his stupid glow under control.
“…get into forensic art, maybe a visual information specialist. I’m sketching all the people connected to the case. For practice.” She turned the page toward him. She’d captured fresh-faced Officer Keydew in a few deft strokes.
Including something not so young and innocent lurking in his eyes.
Pride surged again. He shoved it away with irritation. “That’s really good.”
Her cheeks went rosy. That was fast becoming his favorite color.
And if he stayed here any longer, he’d try to see what other parts of her he could turn rosy. “I have to go.” He turned for the door. A tug that was almost physical pulled him back to her. “Did you want to come, too?”
Irritated with himself, he clamped his jaw against any more words. Having her along would complicate his interaction with both the Dawn vampires and Keydew.
Didn’t stop his yearning for her to be at his side.
She yawned. “I would, but my ex-boyfriend works there. I think it’d be better for both of us if I’m not along when you meet Derek. Say hi to Kitty for me.”
“Okay.” He left Brie working on her sketches. Despite knowing she’d be safer at Otto’s, he missed her like a tug at his heart. His sense of relief battled with a wholly unwarranted disappointment, unbalancing him.
Feelings sucked.
Keeping to the shadows, Seb loped to Dawn Truck Lines, a vampire-owned, mostly vampire-staffed carrier. He had to be on top of his game to avoid detection, yet thoughts of Brie constantly intruded. The memory of her scent curled into his nostrils like a genie’s mist, enticing him to not just think about her, but to run back, pull her into his arms, to kiss and lick and…and he forced himself to focus on what was coming.
He was going into a building full of unaligned vampires. Being off-kilter wouldn’t kill him, but it could ball up his chance to investigate without interference.
He had to come up with a cover story that would confirm Bruno’s alibi—without actually asking. His cover also had to give him a reason to see the terminal, find out which vampires were missing during the times of the murders. No more thinking about Brie, her sweet mouth swollen from his kisses…damn it.
The Dawn Truck Lines driveway led to a good-size parking lot facing a square building set to one side. There was another, larger lot behind the first.
Mounting the front stairs, mindful of the vampire nature of the nighttime carrier, he cautiously pushed open the door to reveal a large office with several desks and doorways leading to other areas. His first breath brought in air thick with diesel and burnt coffee. He had to work not to choke.
A female vampire sat at the desk nearest the door, sipping coffee, a redhead. While he’d normally be responsive to such a female, he found himself distinctly uninterested.
The female’s nameplate read “Kitty.” Her gaze rose slowly, running with appreciation over his body. “May I help you?”
“Yes.” Seb took a deep mental breath and launched in on his story. “I’m an accountant on vacation. My boss has been looking for ways to reduce the company’s shipping costs, and my fiancée spoke highly of your freight carrier. I want to impress management by doing a little proactive scouting. Oh, and Brie Lark says hi.”
Kitty’s smile brightened from vampire sexuality to real pleasure. “Say hi back.” Leaning over her desk, she hit a button on her phone set. “Elwood, could you come up front?”
Seb hid a smile. His cover story was working.
The back doorway filled with a big vampire in a blue cotton button-down Dawn Truck Lines shirt and canvas slacks, both with a patina of grit and oil.
Seb raised an eyebrow. “You’re the sales manager?”
“No sales manager here. Terminal manager, out sick.”
Sick. A human then. “Hope he feels better. Say, I was wondering if I could take a tour?”
“Sure. This is the front office. Over here is the manager’s.”
Seb silently fist-pumped. His plan was working perfectly.
As Elwood showed him around, Seb took stock of the terminal’s occupants. Besides Kitty there was another vampire tapping at a computer. Neither were newly turned to Seb’s nose. Elwood wasn’t young, either. The trucker led the way into the back, where two semis were being unloaded by another pair of vampires plus a human. A third bay was empty.
Feigning casualness, Seb said, “Are any of these people new?”
Elwood’s head swiveled toward him, the start of suspicion lighting his eye.
Perfect plan disintegrated. Scrambling, Seb blurted, “My fiancée’s ex-boyfriend works here. Derek.”
“The kid?” Elwood rolled his eyes, any suspicion disappearing, and Seb breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Yeah, I heard about them. What can I say? Derek’s young enough to be an idiot. He’s only been with us six months.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Most of us have been on the job at least ten years.”
Meaning the other truckers were older vampires. Seb nodded. “Brie, she’s not particularly interested in running into him. Could you tell me…is he around?”
“The kid? No, he left on a New York run several nights ago. But he’s returning tomorrow.”
“Thanks. Good to know.” Pay dirt. Triumph rushed through Seb’s veins. He’d mined all the information he wanted, plus one unexpected gold nugget. Derek was in New York at the time of the murder. Brie’s pathetic excuse for a vampire ex could be his killer. A vicious joy filled him. He’d wanted to arrest the fucker for disappointing Brie, but this was much better. “Oh, by the way. My company ships mostly midsize cartons—like Bruno Braun did yesterday. Did you see that?”
“Yesterday?” A distinct grimace flashed across the trucker’s face. “Yeah, that size is fine. Much smaller, and you’re better off with the post office.”
Bruno’s alibi checked out. Good, but Seb was more interested in the grimace. “Something wrong?”
“With the size? No. Let’s go up front. Kitty can dig you up a sales packet.”
“Thanks.” He followed the trucker’s broad back, noting a slight hunch. “You don’t seem too happy with Bruno.”
“Not Bruno. The shipment. It was local, going to nearby Redfox Village. I delivered the box myself…or I was supposed to.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had a perfect record. Then the damned box was stolen.”