“Your theory has merit,” Jacques says, finally picking up a taco.
“Thanks,” I tell him, and notice a long, thin scar on his hip, just like the one in the dream. I noticed it yesterday. I had to. “I didn’t get good enough looks at the other vampires to properly ID them, but I did bring a stack of missing persons files for you to look through. If I can get names for the other vampires, I can see if they were at the bar, too.”
“And if they were?”
I look into Jacques’s deep, chocolate eyes, knowing all four of them will object. “Then I’ll go.”
“You could be walking into a trap.”
I take a drink of water and set the bottle on the table. “I know.”
10
“What if you get hurt?” Gilbert asks.
“Then I get hurt.” I grab my water again. “I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to do. But I…” Admitting I need help isn’t my forte. I’m used to going at things alone, and even more used to having to prove myself. It doesn’t make sense and I know it, but I’ve developed the unhealthy habit of thinking asking for help means I’m weak. “But I need to know how to kill the vampires.”
“Wooden stake through the heart,” Thomas blurts, and the others look at him with annoyance. “What?” He shrugs and goes for yet another taco. “The sooner she kills the sire, the sooner we can break this fucking curse. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to feel the sun on my face again.”
“You shouldn’t encourage her,” Hasan says gruffly. “She’s human. She can’t go up against a nest of vampires. It’s a death wish.”
“She seems capable,” Gilbert agrees with his brother.
“Guys, stop.” I stand. “I’m right here, and I’m not asking for permission or advice. If you don’t want to help me, fine. Don’t help me. But I’m doing this, and if I die, good luck breaking the curse.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Jacques says softly, and he looks at me with the same familiarity as before.
“Trust me, I don’t want to get hurt either. But if I don’t stop the vampires, someone else will get hurt. Unless Sam and Dean Winchester are out there ready to swoop in and save the day, I’m the only person who knows the murderer is actually a bunch of vampires. I’m the only one who can stop them.”
Hasan, who seems to have an ever-present scowl, tips his head down to me. Even on my feet, he towers above me, standing at least a foot past my five-foot-six-inch frame.
“I will help you.”
“You will?”
He smiles. “Yes. Helping the less fortunate is why I became a Templar.”
Behind the pounds and pounds of muscle and the rough exterior he wears like armor, I see him, and know he means it. We’re not that different.
“That’s why I became a cop. Part of it at least…to make the world a better place, even if it’s just a little bit better than it was before.”
“To help people.”
“Yeah.” I cast my eyes down. “To be there, bringing light to the dark and all that lame shit.” I put the torn napkin on the table and reach for a taco. I need to eat. “Anyway, back to the vampires.”
“You need to be careful, Ace,” Jacques starts. “Vampires are stronger than humans and they are going to be drawn to you even more since you have magic.”
“I don’t have magic.”
“You woke us. You summoned us. There is magic in your blood.”
I blink, not even trying to process it. “I’ll figure it out later.”
“I just told you that you have magic and you’re not at all curious?” Jacques questions. I know enough about human psychology from my years interviewing suspects to know what he’s doing. He’s trying to figure me out, to see if I’m full of bullshit or not.
“Oh, I am.” I peel back the flour tortilla and add hot sauce. “Super curious. But like I said, the vampire issue is time-sensitive. Once I kill the sire, you can bet your ass we’re sitting down for a lengthy conversation.”
“Fine.” He eyes me suspiciously, not able to make up his mind. He’s good at hiding his emotions, but I’m good at reading them. And right now, he’s trying to decide if he wants to hate me or fuck me.
Maybe both.
“Not just any wooden stake will do. You need a priest to bless it.”
“A priest?” I haven’t set foot in a church in years, and while I’m sure there are a good deal of Christians who believe in demons, I know I’m going to have a hard time finding a priest to bless a pointy stick. “Well, fuck.”
“Can’t you do it?” Thomas asks Jacques.
“You’re a priest?” I ask in disbelief.
“I was.” He turns, looking out the window. If I wasn’t in a life-or-death rush to kill the vampires, his brooding might be sexy. But right now, it’s just annoying. “Being cursed has stripped me of whatever connections I once had.”
“Holy water,” Hasan suggests, looking at Jacques. “Soaking the stake in holy water should work.”
Jacques considers it. “Yes, it should. As long as the wood retains the water. Once it dries out, I’d imagine the power would be gone.”
“Good to know. And, if all else fails, I’ll cut off their heads.”
“Have you ever cut off a head?” Hasan asks, completely serious.
“I can’t say I have.” I let out a breath and take a bite of my taco.
“The neck is hard to cut through. Swing hard the first time.”
“This one,” Gilbert says, pointing to one of the missing persons reports.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He looks at Thomas, who nods in agreement.
“It was him.” Thomas slides the paper across the coffee table. We’re in the living room, and my back is to the fire. With proper firewood, the fire is roaring and brings much-needed warmth into the house. “I remember his face clearly.”
“And the rest?”
“None look familiar.” Gilbert hands the papers to Hasan, whose large hands crinkle the pages as soon as they are in his grasp.
“No,” he says.
“Two out of three is really good.” I tap the screen of my phone and log onto Facebook.
“Technology.” Jacques looks at the glowing screen of my cellphone. “Are you using radio waves?”
“Not quite, but I am using up all my data.” I enter the name “Gavin Black” and filter through several profiles before I find the right one. It’s set to private and there’s nothing more I can do until I get into work tomorrow. I consider explaining Facebook and the basics of social media to the gargoyles, but stop, not having the energy to start.
“You can contact anyone with that,” Jacques tells Hasan, and for some reason, the sentiment is absolutely charming.
“It’s a phone,” Gilbert says.
“How do you know?” I ask.
“I don’t know. But I do.”
Thomas leans in, resting his large hand on my shoulder. “It looks familiar.”
“You two were on the front porch. You were around people more than the others who were on the roof. If my sleep theory is correct and you were able to process and retain info you heard while sleeping, it makes sense you’d know more.”
“Hear that?” Thomas shoots a look at Jacques. “We’re the smart ones.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Jacques retorts dryly, making me wonder about their relationship before they were cursed. He turns his attention from Thomas to me. “Can the phone tell you if Gavin was at the vampire bar?”
“No, I’m limited to what I can access from my personal account. I’ll start by questioning the person who reported him missing and go from there.”
“And if he was there, you’ll go in. Alone?”
“I think that’s my only choice.” I bite my lip and lean back toward the fire. “It’s not like I can bring backup.”
“You can bring us.” Hasan’s voice resonates inside of me. “We took an oath to fight in God’s name.”
In my peripheral vision I see Gilbert roll his eyes. “I’m up for ripping heads off. What about you, brother?”
Thomas grins. “I never say no to a fight.”