Chapter Fourteen
Patrick
Another day, another dead girl, and he hated the way the pattern continued, stretching back and forth through his existence like this unbreakable chain of events. It wasn’t fair that this happened. It never was. And knowing that, thinking about it, only made him angrier each time the call came in from Dispatch for Detective Clanahan with a dispassionate street address and the barest details recited to him from whichever drone was stuck manning the phone system that day. And it didn’t help that as many times as he and Mallory got into the car and drove to the scene, as many times as Lynch packed up the bodies and carted them off to her grim lair, as many hours as he spent talking to families and friends, and piecing together the last couple hours of the dead girls’ lives, because as many killers as he caught, Pat knew deep down that the chain would continue repeating itself. New killers, new victims, until their faces and the smell of their blood and guts and perfume turned into a smeared oil slick in his memory, eventually indistinguishable one from the next.
“We’re here,” Mallory said, interrupting his thoughts.
Of course they were, and of course the address they’d been given had led them to an alley opposite the last crime scene. It could have been the perfect moment for deja vu, if Pat didn’t feel so damn sewn into his own skin here. No mistaking that for all the similarities, this was still a fresh tally mark. A fresh link. As identical as the last.
“Are you all right?” Mallory asked.
“Let’s just get this over with,” he replied, climbing out of the Camero. She followed silently, pulling a long wool coat over her work clothes as they walked down the alley to where he could see the hustle and bustle that demarcated the sidewalk and the crime scene.
He went through all of the expected motions: spoke to the officer in charge of the scene while Mallory took notes in one of her little notebooks, examined the area around the body until Lynch had finished her preliminary, and then exchanged places with her and her assistant so that he could get a look at the victim, take a sniff, conclude that the there was something similar in the scent profile to what he’d detected across the street—muddled in that way Vector had described, which indicated to the two werewolves that they were, in fact, dealing with vampires, as though the two perfect punctures in her neck weren’t telling enough.
“How’s it going with your bite analysis?” he asked Doctor Lynch. If he hadn’t been watching her pack up her medical bag, he might have missed the fraction of a second’s pause in the midst of pulling off her latex gloves, but he was watching and as he tuned in to listen to the rush of blood pumping beneath her skin, he heard the slight uptick in her heartbeat, the stress.
“Still waiting to hear back about that. I wouldn’t get your hopes up; vampire bites aren’t a very precise science.”
And he knew in his gut that she was lying.
They finished asking their questions and left the patrol officers to canvass the area while he and Mallory left to report to Captain Augustus. The latest victim hadn’t been carrying any ID, so they would have to wait and see if Lynch could make a match with her dental or fingerprints.
“Do you know why she wants to see us in person?” Mallory asked.
“Three victims in lass than two weeks and we haven’t made any measurable progress figuring out what’s going? That’s reason enough. It’s a miracle that the news stations haven’t picked up on the situation.”
“Do you think a vampire can be classified as a serial killer or are they one simply by their nature?”
“If they kill, they are,” he said, passing through a tight space in between cars to take their exit.
“Would we call anyone who regularly eats meat a serial killer?”
Pat rolled his eyes. “A cow isn’t sentient, Mallory.” He felt her look at him.
“Would it be different if we were eating dolphins?”
He bared his teeth. “I’m a werewolf, what do you want me to say?”
“I was just thinking out loud.”
They rode in tense silence for a couple blocks before the words burst out of him.
“You’re dating my sister.”
“Ah. I was wondering when we were going to have this conversation. We weren’t trying to hide it from you. You’ve just been distra—”
“I know that I’ve been…busy,” he snapped, feeling defensive.
“And out of the country.”
“So, it’s been going on that long?”
“You make it sound sordid.”
“Then what is it?”
“Do you genuinely want to know because you’re interested or because you’re feeling belligerent?” she asked.
Pat parked them in the station lot and cut the engine. “She’s my sister.”
“Yes.”
He turned and gave Mallory a narrow eyed look. “Vector knew.”
Mallory wasn’t the sort to shrug, but he could see the gesture in the slant of her mouth, the gleam in her eyes as she met his.
“I can’t tell if you’re insulted or jealous,” she replied.
“I—” Pat fumbled for an answer, unsure himself.
“And if you’re jealous, I’m not sure of who. Vector, just for knowing? Or Vector for knowing something about someone you feel possessive of?”
“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me,” he griped, shocked when she actually smiled at him, sparking amusement.
“Oh, I wouldn’t think of trying to do that. I’m not a fan of futilities,” she said.
Up on the third floor, Captain Augustus waited for them in her glass-walled office, all of the blinds turned down tight to keep out prying eyes, which meant that he was unprepared to step inside and be greeted by the sight of the Assistant Chief sitting behind her desk while Augustus leaned against the filing cabinet, her face schooled to a blankness it was impossible for him to read.
“Ah, detectives, please come in. Close the door,” Assistant Chief Roberts greeted them with a pleasantly bland smile and dead eyes. The man had thinning, grey-blond hair and features softened by age and an extra twenty pounds that he’d put on since his last promotion that gave him an uncanny resemblance to Philip Seymour Hoffman circa Freddie Lounds.
“Both of you, sit down, please.”
Mallory took the furthest chair without a word, but Pat could sense the tensing throughout her body.
“Is something the matter?” he asked with mounting discomfort and only the most marginal attempt at deference in his tone, drawing Roberts’ attention firmly to him.
Roberts was the officer in charge of all SPD special operations units, including Major Crimes, which made him the Captain’s boss as well as theirs. Pat knew the man in a general sense, but had never had a reason to interact with him before, and he had a bad feeling in his gut, amplified by the tension in his partner and the look on Augustus’ face. No way was the Captain happy about having Roberts sitting in her chair like that and ordering around her detectives. He could smell the sharp tang from sweat and human hearts nervously drumming in his ears. A rata tat tat that made his wolf grumble in irritation. Roberts was an outsider and Pat didn’t like the smarmy look on his face.
“I understand you’re coming from a crime scene. I don’t want to take up anymore of your time than I have to.”
Mallory cleared her throat and asked in a painfully precise tone of voice, “Is something the matter?”
Roberts spread his hands and gave them a concerned look that made Pat’s stomach turn.
“Well, we’ve got several dead young women on our hands as I understand it. That’s always a tragedy.”
“Which is why we’re concentrating all of our efforts on figuring out who’s behind their deaths,” Pat replied, forcing his teeth to stay covered.
“I’ve been going over your reports on the incidents. It seems like we’ve got a rogue vampire on our hands.”
“Possibly.”
“Quite the unsettling thought. At least for us humans. I suppose it’s not such a concern for you, Detective Clanahan.”
He frowned at the Assistant Chief as the man steepled his fingers with a smile on his face.
“I’m sure you understand that we’re all very invested in seeing this situation handled quickly and quietly. We wouldn’t want to cause a city-wide panic over a single, albeit very sick, individual.”
It took an effort not to turn to Mallory.
“We’re still waiting on forensic evidence to confirm that a single individual is what we’re dealing with,” he replied.
Roberts’ smiled stretched. “Of course it is. Or maybe a hunting pair? But I understand that the victims have all been attractive young women. That sounds like the MO of a single, obsessive killer to me.”
“It’s a possibility. But like I said, we’re still waiting on Lynch’s—”
“Yes, yes, I heard you. Well, irregardless, we do agree about the other part.”
“As far as I know, the media hasn’t reported on any of the incidents yet,” Pat snapped.
“Precisely. And I’d like that to stay the case.”
“That’s all well and good, but with a third body showing up, the chances that no one catches wind of these deaths goes down.”
“Then I guess the two of you better catch our rogue vampire before he feeds again.” Roberts turned to Augustus. “Any idea when that might be? How often do vampires feed?”
The Captain narrowed her eyes, mouth in a grim line as Roberts smiled at her before shaking his head and turning back to the two detectives.
“Well, irregardless. The two of you better hurry and catch this deviant. Why don’t we say, before Christmas? That’d make it like a present to the city.”
Pat narrowed his eyes.
“Unless you don’t think you’ll be able to handle the case?” Roberts went on before they could respond. He turned to Pay. “I understand you must be busy with other responsibilities this time of year.”
“Excuse me?” Pat demanded. “I don’t know what—”
“With the full moon coming and that business with your…husband, you’ve got a lot on your plate. You know now that I’m thinking about it, it might be easier if I just reassigned this to one of our other—human—detectives.”
Pat leapt up wth a snarl, barely restrained by Mallory’s hand on his arm.
She raised her voice over the sound of his wolf and said, “That’s not necessary, Chief. We have several leads we’re following, it would be highly irregular to give the case to someone else. And of course we’re working as quickly as possible.”
“Of course,” Roberts replied, raking his eyes over Patrick. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat and said, “That’s quite the temper you’ve got, detective. Not very professional though. What leads?”
“We might not dealing with a lone vampire,” Pat growled, tuning his senses on Roberts as he said it, trying to memorize the beat of the man’s heart, the scent of his sweat, the way his eyes dilated ever so slightly as they swept briefly across Mallory’s chest before coming back to land on Pat.
“What precisely are you suggesting?” Roberts asked, the look in his flat and unwelcoming. “Surely, you don’t think there’s a wider issue here? Need I remind you that Seattle boasts a coven-free sanctuary?”
“No, you don’t.”
“All right, just so we’re all clear. For the moment, I guess I’ll let you get back to work. Oh, and give my best to your mother the next time you see her.”
Pat stared at Roberts until he felt Mallory’s hand press hard into his back, angled so that their bosses couldn’t see it, she steered him out of the Captain’s office before he could growl and demand to know what the hell the Assistant Chief meant by that.
“Keep walking,” she murmured in an undertone he wouldn’t have caught without wolf ears.
Mallory’s hand kept contact with him, firm and steady through his coat. She made one detour to their desks where she cleared out their active files, packing them into a messenger bag and then herded him—for lack of a better term—across the bull pen, all of this done without a word until they were alone in the elevator. She punched the button for the ground floor and shot him a sharp look when he opened his mouth to say something, Pat didn’t know what, but his ears felt hot with immutable rage, the wolf grumbling warily behind his teeth. She left the elevator and headed for a green Jeep Grand Cherokee parked in a shady corner of the lot.
“In,” she said, beeping the locks open.
Pat climbed into the passenger seat and braced one hand on the roof, the other on the dash while she peeled out of the stall and slid too-fast into traffic, making his stomach dip.
“Been taking driving lessons from Vector?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Vector should take lessons from me,” she replied in a cool tone, eyes flicking fast between her mirrors as she weaved between the sluggish Seattle traffic. “Speaking of, you should give him a call.”
“Why?” Pat asked, already pulling out his phone. “Where are we going?”
“He’s staying with Graham. Tell him we’re coming over.”
Pat was beginning to understand that there were layers to Mallory’s professional voice, and right then he could detect a steely edge to it that might have worried him if he weren’t sure that it was because of Roberts and not himself. He dialed Vector’s cell and let him know they were on their way.
“What happened?” his cousin asked, sounding concerned.
“Are you at home?”
“I’m with Lachlan. We just got back from—”
“We’ll see you in ten,” Mallory said without raising her voice.
Pat rolled his eyes and ended the call just in time to brace himself as they narrowly avoided two Toyotas blocking an intersection.
“You’d think we were being followed,” he said, glancing back at the snarl of cars in the side mirror.
“Who says we aren’t.”
He gave her a look. “That makes you sound paranoid.”
“You aren’t?”