Chapter Sixteen

I’ve got this

 

My ringtone woke me up just a little after eight o’clock a.m. Shane reached across to the nightstand, grabbed the phone, and poked me with it, his eyes still closed, until I took it.

“Shit,” I muttered. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, then answered.

“Mayor Delaney is holding a press conference at ten a.m.,” Crawford said, sounding a little too sunny. “I thought you’d want to be there.”

“Yeah.” I yawned hard enough to crack my jaw. “I’ll be there, damn you.”

He laughed and hung up.

I lay back and snuggled against the two warm bodies between which I’d slept, unable to resist closing my eyes just for a minute.

Fifteen minutes later I was jarred out of a sound sleep when my phone, which I’d held on to, even in my sleep, began to ring again.

“Captain,” I said. “What? What is it?”

“You fell back to sleep, didn’t you?” he said, cheerfully.

“I’m up.”

“I’m going to murder that motherfucker,” Shane muttered.

I hung up, planted a kiss on Shane’s lips, then climbed over Clayton to get out of the bed. He slept on his stomach and I paused for a second to watch him, my gaze traveling from his tousled hair to his bare back, and then lower, to where the sheets barely clung to his perfect, naked ass.

Damn Mayor Delaney. And damn Frank Crawford.

Clayton opened an eye as I leaned over to kiss him goodbye. “I’ll come with you.”

“No. Get some sleep. I’m just going to City Hall. I’ll be fine.”

He was asleep before I’d finished speaking.

I let a cool shower wake me up and was out the door twenty minutes later.

The entire city was hysterical. People gathered in groups, loud and frantic, and the press was out in force.

Law enforcement drove slowly down the streets and walked the sidewalks, and it took me fifteen minutes to find a place to park near city hall. The many steps leading up to the building were crowded as half a dozen interviews were being conducted, but it didn’t take me long to spot the mayor and the entourage that surrounded him.

I pushed my way through the crowd and walked up the steps, then stood listening as he told people how to protect themselves—to remain inside from dusk to daylight until the curfew could be lifted, to wear their barrier glasses against the possibility of being mesmerized, and to double up on their silver. He made promises he’d never be able to keep about making the city safe again.

Asshole.

I knew Frank would have told him that the rifters were going uninvited into homes and that they were immune to silver. But the mayor babbled on about silver and locked doors anyway. It was all he had.

He was very charismatic, our mayor. Slender, my height, perfect hair. Boyishly handsome, charming, quick brown eyes, a ready smile. He had a confident air about him that made people believe they could depend on him.

“We have it under control,” he lied. “I promise you.”

I crossed my arms and glared. “You don’t have anything under control, Mayor. Last night’s attacks were nothing compared with what’s coming.”

Reporters started shooting questions at me, the crowd began muttering, and I couldn’t hear a word the mayor said. I strode toward the bank of microphones in front of him, but two large men in suits immediately shoved me back.

“Hey,” I said, stumbling. “Keep your hands off me.”

“It’s all right,” the mayor said. “Let her come up. Come on up, Ms. Sinclair.”

Suited men and women stepped back, allowing me to stand beside Delaney, and he offered me a huge smile and a hearty handshake when I reached him.

I shook his hand. “Mayor. Did you get my message about tossing out the new supernatural regulations?”

“Now is not the time.” He turned to the microphones, the reporters, and the watching crowd. “I’m sure you all know our famous vampire hunter, but for those of you who have been living under a rock these last few months, allow me to introduce Ms. Trinity Sinclair.”

“Sir—”

He put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed my upper arm. “Play nice,” he murmured.

I shrugged his hand off my shoulder. “I’m not playing anything, Mayor.”

Reporters and onlookers alike were yelling questions—not only for the mayor, but for me.

“My wife was turned and then killed,” a man yelled. “The hunters killed her!” He clenched his fists and took a step closer to us, an older man with wrinkled clothes and red eyes, a man full of grief and devastation. “You killed her!”

“She killed my child. She killed my boy.” A woman stepped up beside him, and I remembered her. The mother of the teenaged boy Josh.

“No,” the mayor said, before anyone else could speak. “Trinity didn’t kill your loved ones. They were killed by the vampires. She simply ended their suffering.”

“What now?” someone called. “What about tonight? Will the vampires be back?”

“What kind of vampires are they?”

“Why are they attacking us?”

I leaned toward the microphones, interrupting the stream of questions thrown at me. “My hunters and I will do everything we can to protect you.” Were there things they could do to protect themselves from the coming rifters? Maybe. But I wasn’t going to be able to suggest anything while standing on the steps being yelled at by a hysterical crowd. “I need to talk to you in private,” I muttered to Delaney. “There are things you don’t know.”

Delaney stiffened but kept his smile firmly in place. “I can take care of my people. You shouldn’t be creating more hysteria. I’ve got it under control.”

“You can’t control these creatures, Mayor.” I didn’t bother keeping my voice down. “You can only hope I kill them before they kill you.”

Anxiety rippled through the crowd like a shaky wind, and Delaney turned to glare at me, the shine of anger in his eyes. “You can behave yourself, or I can have you removed. Your choice.”

“Shit,” I whispered. I looked out at the growing, noisy crowd, and saw Crawford standing at the edge, his body stiff, his lips pressed together in a line of displeasure. Whether at me, the crowd, or the mayor, I couldn’t have said.

He began to walk toward me, then pointed away from the crowd, silently urging me to join him. Maybe he was worried the people would turn on me.

“Mayor,” I said. “I need to talk with you privately about what happened last night. Those vampires weren’t—”

“Go back to Bay Town, Ms. Sinclair,” he interrupted. “I’ve got this.”

Finally, I backed away from him and the microphones and the frenzy of the crowd, and I went to join Crawford.

I needed to explain the situation to him. He could pass the information to the fucking mayor.

“He’s not willing to listen,” Crawford said, taking my arm. “You’ll have to call his office. Maybe they’ll get him to agree to a meeting.”

“Or I can talk to the press.” We walked back down the steps, and I took a deep, cleansing breath once we were away from City Hall.

“I’ve struggled with vampires my entire life. Those things last night…I’ve never seen fangs like those. And they were faster. Bigger.” He looked at me. “What were they, Sinclair?”

I blew out a tired breath. “I have a lot to tell you.”

He guided me into a tiny diner called Edna’s. “Let’s talk over breakfast.”

That was okay with me—I never felt full enough anymore.

The restaurant was one of those old tucked-away treasures that had somehow managed to stay the same over the years. The city had moved on, grown up, and changed, but the diner stayed stuck in the past.

The seat of my jeans caught on cracked upholstery as I slid into a booth, and the table rocked slightly when I put my elbows on it. Crawford waited until I was settled before sitting across from me, and I realized he looked like he belonged in that quaint, sweet place, despite the grim darkness of his work.

“Frank,” the waitress greeted, pouring his coffee. “The usual?”

“Yes, thank you, Sue.”

She looked at me. “What’ll you have?”

“What’s Frank’s usual?” I asked. “I might have that.”

“Eggs, bacon, hash browns, and some of the best biscuits you’ll ever eat,” the captain answered.

“Yeah, and you’ll push your food around and drink a pot of coffee,” the waitress said, “like you always do.” She tried for a smile, but her eyes were dull and fixed, her face pale, and a spark of…fear, maybe, lingered in her stare.

Frank frowned up at her. “You okay, Sue?”

“I sure am. How are you this morning?” She looked at me without waiting for him to answer. “You want Frank’s usual, then?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sure. And some orange juice. Thanks.”

“Last night kicked all our asses,” Frank said, after Sue walked away with our orders. “She’s usually an annoyingly cheerful morning person, no matter what’s going on in the world.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t you just hate people like that?”

He laughed. “I apologize for waking you this morning.”

“You should apologize for being so happy about it.” But I smiled. It was good to forget the mayor for a few minutes.

My phone vibrated and I glanced at the screen.

Check in.

I tapped a quick I’m fine, Angus, then placed the phone on the table.

Sue said little when she returned with our food, and Frank watched her the entire time with a line of worry between his brows.

I dug into my eggs and finished off my meal and two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice before I considered broaching the subject of the rifters. I needed to fortify myself. And the subject matter would have spoiled my appetite.

Something had spoiled his. He drank four cups of black coffee and picked at his food, just as Sue had predicted, shoving his plate toward me after I’d finished mine and looked longingly at his untouched hash browns.

“You should eat more.” I finally sat back in my chair and rubbed my full belly. “Running on caffeine and stress will make you old.”

He snorted. “I am old.”

“No, you’re not.”

Our gazes bumped into each other, then slid away almost apologetically. The resulting awkwardness was both understandable and confusing.

I took a quick sip of the warm dregs of juice that remained, then plunked the heavy glass down on the table a little too hard. “Those things last night,” I started. And then I told him everything I knew.

He listened without interrupting once, his stare never wavering. And when I was finished, he blew out a hard breath and sat in silence for a good five minutes, mulling it over. Finally, he spoke, but he didn’t say anything I thought he’d say. “The mayor might try to take you, Trinity. If he holds you, he believes he can force the vampire master to give himself up. He believes he can force Amias to control the attacking vampires if he controls Amias, therefore making himself the hero of Red Valley—and the master of us all.”

I gaped at him. “He’s a power-hungry asshole.”

He nodded. “Yeah. And he can be a dangerous one.”

“And when he takes Amias and releases me, does he think Amias will stay put and I won’t fight back?”

He met my stare, his eyes steady. “He’s not planning on releasing you. You’re the key to all this. If he holds you, he holds control of the supernaturals, the vampires, their money, their power. Everything.” He leaned forward, his quiet voice dropping to a murmur. “Including you and your…abilities. You have to be on guard. He’ll use anyone to get what he wants. He’ll send someone after you if he decides he can do so without hurting himself.”

“You?” I asked. “Is that how you know, because he’d mentioned sending you to arrest me?”

“Yes.”

“And who does he think will fight the attacking vampires if I’m in jail?”

“Like I said, he thinks they’ll be controlled once he controls the master. He’s impulsive and a little crazy, but he’s a smart man. He doesn’t think he’ll face consequences for anything he does because he never has.”

“He’s not the type to get his hands dirty, though.”

“He doesn’t have to. He has people to do that for him.” He took a drink of coffee. “But now, with these new attackers coming, he’s going to see he’s not in control of anything.”

“Can you talk to him? Tell him about the rifters?”

“Absolutely. But I can’t guarantee he’ll believe the story. I can’t guarantee he won’t go ahead with his plan to take you.”

“You should be the mayor,” I said. “The city would be a better place.”

He smiled. “Delaney isn’t going anywhere. We’ll just have to figure out how to handle him.”

The waitress came back with a pot of coffee, but Crawford shook his head. “I’ve had enough coffee, Sue.” He glanced up at her, then frowned. “Are you sure you’re all right? Ed’s okay? Did you know anyone killed in the attack?”

Her hand shook and the coffee sloshed, and she bit her trembling lip. “No. Just a bad dream last night,” she murmured. “That’s all. A bad dream.”

But when she turned her head, jumping a little when a customer noisily entered the diner, I saw a ring of bruises at the side of her throat. Bruises she’d tried to hide with a high neckline and her hair. “Sue, you don’t know me,” I started, “but—”

“I know you,” she interrupted. “Everybody knows you. And I have to get back to work.”

I looked at Frank once she’d left the table. “Someone’s hurting her.”

He pursed his lips, his narrowed gaze following her retreating figure. “She’s married to the nicest man you could ever meet. Her kids are away at college. I’ve been coming into this diner for fifteen years, and she’s worked here very nearly the entire time. I think she’d tell me if she were in trouble.”

“Frank,” I said, firmly. “Someone is hurting that woman.”

“Shit,” he muttered, and shoved away from the table. “I’ll talk to her.”

I stood as well. “I need to get back to Bay Town. Call me after you talk to the mayor.”

“I will. Still, be on guard. Neither I nor my people will be coming for you. But if he wants you, he’ll send someone a little meaner than me.”

“He should hope he doesn’t. For his sake.”

He grinned, and his tired face brightened. “He doesn’t know you or the supernaturals well enough to be scared.”

I returned his smile. “Before this is over, he will.”

The mayor seemed to think he was invincible. That he could do whatever he liked, hurt whomever he chose, and rule supreme.

Poor guy was in for a very rude awakening.

Crawford hesitated, then reached out to squeeze my arm. “Be careful, Sinclair.”

“You too, Captain.”

Then I left him to speak with the bruised waitress and hurried home to my men. I’d had enough of the city.