Fire Within

chapter Fifteen

Black smoke billowed from the front windows and doors. Andreas and Ari stood frozen, taking in the jarring contrast with the pristine whiteness of the rest of Club Dintero. The worst of the fire was out, but heavily clad firemen still clung to hoses aimed into the interior. A thick haze hovered over the sizable crowd of guests and curious bystanders drawn by the trucks and sirens. People choked and hacked from the dense smoke, and Ari wondered why they didn’t leave.

She rubbed at the prickly feeling on her neck and looked around. A brooding sense hovered over the fire scene, as if something malevolent was watching. As she scanned the area, she noticed a group of a dozen or more young vampires huddled off to one side. Most were in jeans and t-shirts or leather and didn’t look like club patrons. They weren’t staff. Ari didn’t like the angry energy they produced. It wasn’t the same malevolence she’d noticed earlier, but in light of Andreas’s comments about the mood in the vamp community, the youthful group could be real trouble.

She was about to point them out to Andreas, when he spotted Marcus. “Is everyone out?” Andreas asked.

The young maitre’d nodded. “Yes. Sure glad you got here. I think the only ones seriously hurt were two humans.” Marcus nodded toward a green and white rescue van. “Paramedics are treating them now. They were standing in the entry when a bottle or something on fire came through the front windows.”

Ari saw a seventy-something couple seated on the open back of the van. A paramedic swabbed the woman’s arm with cotton, and the man held an ice pack against the left side of his face. If that was the worst of the injuries, the club patrons had been very lucky.

Andreas surveyed the ordered chaos surrounding his building. He telegraphed uncertainty, a rare state for him, clearly torn between his duty to the victims and taking charge of employees and damage control.

Ari nudged his arm. She could help Andreas and still be in a position to keep an eye on the youthful vampire gang. “I’ll stay out here and talk to the victims. You deal with the rest of this mess.”

His instant smile made her glad she’d offered. It might just make holding the victims’ hands bearable. She started toward the rescue van.

Charlie and Henrietta Stillman barely noticed when Ari joined them. Henrietta was upset and making her feelings known.

“I can’t believe this. I finally talk him into going out for a romantic evening, and what happens? Someone throws a Molotov cocktail at us! What kind of a place is this? Is this a gangster hangout? Or was this a terrorist attack?” Mrs. Stillman shuddered; frustrated tears glistened, ready to spill over at any moment.

Ari arrived in time to hear the woman’s complaints and interrupted to introduce herself. “I’m so sorry this happened. Is there anything I can do? The club owner wants to do whatever he can to make it right.”

“Make it right?” the woman wailed. “My poor arm is burnt to a crisp, and look at Charlie’s face. He’s all cut up and burned. He’ll be scarred for life.”

“Now, Mrs. Stillman,” the female paramedic working on her arm said, “I told you, you and your husband will be fine. The burns may blister, but if you keep the creams on and are careful of infection, you should both heal without scarring. None of his cuts even need stitching. It looks worse than it is. In a few weeks you won’t be able to see where either of you were injured.”

“A few weeks!” the woman shrieked. “His face is going to look like that for weeks? Charlie, did you hear that? You’re going to ruin Charlene’s wedding.” With that pronouncement, apparently realizing the enormity of this insult to her orderly world, Henrietta’s tears started to flow.

Ari exchanged a helpless look with the paramedics. How could she stop the flood? At best, she was a resource counselor, not a damn shrink. And unlike a couple of her sister witches, she had no ability for healing others, except for potions, and the law didn’t allow her to use those on humans. She tried patting the lady’s shoulder but Mrs. Stillman continued to shake with sobs. Ari didn’t seem to be making much headway. She flashed the paramedic an apologetic look and took the coward’s route. She left.

Ari scooted into the space on the far side of Charlie Stillman, watched the deft fingers of the male EMT dab ointment on Charlie’s face, and waited for a break in their conversation. The moment the young man finished his care instructions, Charlie turned to his wife.

“For Heaven’s sake, Hettie, get a hold of yourself. These folks are going to think you’re a ninny.” In spite of this tough talk, Charlie took his wife’s good hand and squeezed it. “There, there, sugar. That’s better,” he added as she showed signs of calming. Her rapid breathing slowed, and then the tears stopped.

When she was down to sniffles, Charlie turned toward Ari. “You’ll have to excuse her, Miss. She’s had quite a shock.”

“I understand. You’ve both been through a bad experience. The club owner, Andreas De Luca, wanted me to assure you that your medical bills will be covered.” She knew Andreas would approve of that. “When the club reopens, he’d like you to accept a champagne dinner for two, on the house. It’s the least we can do.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Charlie said. His wrinkled face managed a half-smile. “You thank him for us. See there, Hettie, everything will be all right.”

“If you say so, Charlie.”

Ari hoped she didn’t look as astonished as she felt. Under Charlie’s experienced touch, the watering pot had been transformed. Ari breathed a sigh of relief. “Can you tell me what happened?” she ventured, hoping the question wouldn’t set the wife off again.

“I don’t rightly know,” he said. “We had just arrived when something came flying through the window.”

“The tiffany panel. It came through that lovely tiffany panel next to the door,” his wife corrected.

“Yes, dear,” Charlie agreed. “Whatever it was, it was on fire. Window pieces struck my face, scorching hot. And Hettie’s sleeve caught on fire. Somebody pulled us behind the front desk. There was smoke everywhere, and I had trouble breathing.” He patted his wife’s hand. “That nice young man over there took us outside.” He pointed toward Marcus, who was standing with Andreas and two firefighters. “He stayed with us, too. Until the fire trucks and paramedics came.”

“Who said it was a Molotov cocktail?”

“That’s what Hettie heard,” he said, and his wife bobbed her head.

“That fireman over there.” She pointed with her good hand to one of the men standing with Andreas. “Heard him say so.”

Ari gave them an agreeable nod. A logical conclusion, if you didn’t know about the demon. She could smell the ozone, a by-product of magical fire. The fireman wouldn’t know what that meant. Under the circumstances, a Molotov cocktail was a better story than the truth.

“We’re ready to go,” the paramedic reported to Ari. “These folks should be seen by the ER docs, and we’re ready to transport.”

“Good. I’ll let you get on your way.” She turned back to the Stillmans. “Is there anything else I can do for you? Anyone you want me to call?”

“Thank you, but no,” Charlie said. “Already called my son. He’ll meet us at St. Mary’s Hospital. We’ll be fine.” The painkillers had kicked in and Charlie’s face had lost the stress creases. “You tell Mr. De Luca, we’ll be back for that dinner.”

“Any time, sir. The guest reservations will be at the front desk whenever you can make it. If you call ahead, we’ll save you the best table.”

Ari heaved a sigh of relief as the rescue van drove away. Playing nursemaid was not her best role, but the Stillmans were getting the care they needed, and with any luck, the club wouldn’t be sued.

She checked once more on the vamp gang, discovered most of them had left, and made her way over to Marcus. The smoke was down to wisps, and the firefighters were starting to put their equipment away. Andreas had disappeared.

“He’s inside,” Marcus said immediately. “The fire was contained around the front door and the host station. The club was packed, but everyone got out.”

“Close call. We were lucky.”

“Yeah. It could have burned to the ground.” Marcus shuffled his feet. “I should have been better prepared for something like this.”

Ari flushed. Her bad temper was coming back to haunt her. “You’re not to blame for this. You did a great job in getting everyone to safety. And club security’s not your problem.” She tugged on his arm until he looked at her. “Not tonight and not the day of the shooting. I’m sorry, Marcus. I should have apologized sooner. I was wrong to say those things to you. I was upset, and, oh hell, sometimes I can be a bitch.”

Marcus ducked his head to hide a swift grin.

“Believe me,” she continued, “if I’m right about who did this, there isn’t anything you could have done.”

“What do you mean? Do you know who did it?”

Ari glanced at the area where the young vampires had been. Two of them were still watching and listening. “Not out here. Ask Andreas later. Let’s worry about the club first.”

Marcus frowned, shrugged, and took off toward a group of staff members. Ari went in search of Andreas. She wasn’t sure how much they could do tonight, except start the planning, but she was willing to do her share.

She found him in the main dining room, staring at the charred walls and soaked floors of the entry. Pieces of shattered glass littered the floor; the once beautiful cherry wood sat blistered and buckled; torn drapes, laden with water hung forlornly, and soot covered everything in sight. The pungent stench stung her nose.

She picked her way to Andreas’s side, the floor squishing where she walked, and slipped her hand in his.

“Your Lt. Foster called,” he said. “He is working on another case but will be here in the morning. He wants to talk with the fire investigators first. The cleanup has to wait until everyone else is finished.”

“And after that?”

He looked at the entry again, his jaw line hardening. “We rebuild, reopen, and find the devil’s spawn that did this.”

When Ari arrived home from the club, it was near dawn. It had taken hours to obtain all the names, double check that patrons and staff were safe, and secure the premises from possible vandals. She collected the morning paper from in front of her door and dropped it on the kitchen counter. Her nose was stuffy, smarting from the heavy smoke. Bed would have to wait a few more minutes. She stripped and stepped into the shower. Even her insides must be covered in smoke and soot. After ten minutes of soaping and scrubbing, she gave up. She could still smell the acrid residue of the fire.

Cuddling in a large bath towel, she searched for and found clean sleep clothes and was climbing into bed when her phone started its insistent clamor. She glanced at the bedside clock. 5:37 a.m. Another day ruined before she even got to bed.

“Get your paper,” Ryan’s voice demanded. “I’ll wait.”

“Just tell me. Is this about the fire?” she asked, rubbing her gritty eyes with a free hand. She was in no mood to listen to Ryan bitch.

“‘Killer Stalks Vamps!’” he sputtered. “I particularly liked this line: ‘A bystander described the recent attacks as a cowardly series of hate crimes.’ What’s The Clarion trying to do? Start a riot?”

When he mentioned The Clarion, she realized he must be reading from the morning news. “Why don’t you call them and ask? Instead of keeping me from my bed?” Ari padded across the room, tripped over a discarded shoe, and grabbed the paper from the kitchen counter.

“It’s the headline! Don’t you get it?”

She opened the paper, and the horrifying words jumped out at her. “Oh yeah, I get it,” she said, her heart sinking. “This is harsh. But how is bitching at me going to help?”

“Maybe it won’t, but I could strangle that sonofabitch Eddie West.” Ryan was furious. “He's been a pain from the beginning of this case, but this is the last straw. It’s bad enough we have some a*shole demon running around killing people and starting fires. Now the press. This is deliberately inflammatory!”

“Okay, calm down. I’ll call Eddie and see what’s going on. Maybe I can at least prevent more articles like this. He doesn’t understand how bad things are. I learned last night that many of the younger vamps have demanded that Prince Daron approve a hunt for the killer.”

“A hunt? Dammit. Why didn’t you call me? You thought I didn’t need to know?” He uttered a few more choice words, and Ari let him vent. She had to agree that the case was going to hell in a hurry, and The Clarion article only made things worse.

“I would have told you right away, but it was late, and then there was the fire. Besides, Prince Daron has them under control, at least for now.” She was annoyed she had to defend herself. “Give me a break, Ryan. I haven’t been to bed yet. But since I’m still up, I’ll call Eddie now.”

“I want to know what he says, so call me afterwards. I’m at the fire scene now. You’re not the only one who’s short on sleep.”

She hung up before the conversation deteriorated further and rummaged in the fridge for a diet cola. She downed it in one long swig. The throat burn actually felt good. At least it got her going again. She had Eddie’s private number on speed dial and figured he deserved to be up. When he answered on the first ring, she realized someone had gotten to him first. She was sorry to have been deprived of the pleasure.

“Did you really write this story?” she demanded. She had read every word of the article—twice. It was bad. Eddie’s by-line stared her in the face.

“Most of it, but I didn’t choose the headline. Honest. It was less dramatic when I last saw it, but you can’t expect us not to print the facts.”

“The facts, yes, but this is misleading. It seems geared toward arousing a public outcry.”

“In what way? I reported that three vamps have been killed, and two of the murders were similar. That’s true. It doesn’t take such a big leap of logic to assume the third killing is connected. And there’s the shots fired at Andreas, another vampire, and the firebombing last night at a vampire club. Even the spray painting. House of Monsters. While vampires aren’t the only monsters, I think the meaning is clear. Somebody hates the vampires.”

“And this helps? Some of the younger vampires are already threatening to find the killer themselves. This just fires up everybody. Are you sure you didn’t write this to get even for your time in jail?”

He didn’t answer for a long, heavy moment. “I hope that was a bad joke,” he finally said. “I have professional ethics. This isn’t a vendetta. How can you even ask that, after I suppressed the story the last time you asked?”

It was true. Nearly a year ago Ari had asked him not to print a story that revealed too much about the vampires, and he hadn’t. But that was before the cops arrested him. That could have changed his perspective. Or maybe he just didn’t want to be scooped again.

“This will make trouble,” she predicted. “The article is irresponsible.”

“Sorry you feel that way,” he said, anger making his voice rough. “I have a job to do, and the public has a right to know what’s happening. Do the vamps know someone wants to kill them? Or were you keeping that little secret to yourself?”

“What’s gotten into you? Did you hear me say they want to form a hunt? Of course, they know. Warnings went out through the community. But your article implies someone is indiscriminately killing vampires. That’s not how I see it. You’ll have every vamp in town jumping at shadows, and they could start hunting humans in spite of Prince Daron’s disapproval.”

“I don’t want to get anybody killed,” Eddie muttered. “What do you expect me to do, when all I get from official sources is the run-around? Maybe you need to tell me the story. Explain how I’m wrong.”

“After this? No way.” Ari sighed, reined in her temper, and backtracked. “At least not until it’s safe to release the story. Talk with your bosses, tone down the inflammatory stuff. Maybe even get the story off the front page.” She forced herself to be reasonable, conciliatory. Eddie wasn’t the enemy, and she didn’t want to make him one. “Your paper’s being manipulated by a clever killer. Please don’t feed into the public panic it seems to crave.” She’d said all she could and maybe more than she should. But Eddie would think it over, and she hoped it would influence his discussions with the newspaper management.

“You know who’s doing this, don’t you? Can’t you give me a hint?” Emotion simmered in his voice. “No, I suppose not. I’ll do what I can, but the story sells papers. Maybe I can find a positive angle, but no promises. Hey, what did you mean by it?”

Ari faked a hesitation, as if she were reluctant and hadn’t deliberately dropped the hint. “Off the record?”

Eddie groaned. “That good, huh?”

“Off the record,” she repeated to make sure he understood. “Suspects from the drive-by were apprehended. It was an attempted hit, and the money man isn’t human.”

“By not human, do you mean a werewolf or vampire?” When she didn’t answer, he asked, “Was that the standoff yesterday afternoon where one of the suspects died?” Renewed interest sparked in his voice.

“I’ve told you all I can, but I think you see the problem. Your article incorrectly fed the community belief that the killer is human. You can’t tell them that’s wrong. Just back off on the hate crime rhetoric.”

“What about the fire? Is that part of this? Or something personal?”

“We’re working on it. Give us a chance.” Impatience seeped into her voice.

“A vendetta?” he persisted. “Maybe Sebastian again?”

Ari hit the disconnect. She didn’t have the answers and was tired of saying so. Eddie wasn’t going to quit digging, but maybe he’d spend time on the personal angle. It could minimize the stalker talk. At least he couldn’t print anything about a demon or even a mysterious creature. Not unless he broke faith with Ari, and she didn’t think he’d go that far. She couldn’t imagine how bad it would be if the public suspected there was a demon in Riverdale.

She was getting sleepy again, but before she crawled into bed for a few hours, she called Ryan back, then spoke with Russell and Lilith. Although the club staff would be busy with the fire marshals and cleanup, she wanted them to show Andreas the article as soon as he woke. With forewarning, maybe the vampire court could head off disaster before it started.

That wasn’t exactly how it went.

It was Friday night, bar night. Shortly after the sun set, the fighting began. Members of the vampire court were active on the streets and had recruited the more reasonable members of the vamp community to assist. In fact, the majority of the vampires weren’t involved in the disturbances that kept popping up all over Olde Town. A dozen of the older ones helped to control the clusters of combatants that roamed the bar district. Even with those efforts, by midnight the PD decided to block off Olde Town from the rest of the city. Barricades went up; riot gear came out of storage.

Ryan and Ari had just broken up a fight on lower State Street when dispatch paged them to the Sin & Skin strip club. A disturbance there had turned into a brawl. Fists, clubs, and beer bottles were flying. Five older vampires had formed a protective ring around a rowdy crowd of young human males, but the humans weren’t helping the situation. They were throwing bottles and attempting to break out and rejoin the fight. Ari assumed they were too drunk to grasp the danger. The young vamps had used their superior strength to bash and toss their human opponents around, but none had yet resorted to fangs or breaking necks.

Ari spotted Andreas right away. He had a neck hold on two vampires he was dragging toward his silver Lexus. Ryan jumped from his cruiser, announced the police presence, and shouted for everyone to stop fighting, but no one heard him. He and Ari waded into the milling mix of combatants and gawkers, finally joining the older vamps’ protective circle. A black-haired human male was about to break free, so Ari hit him in the nose with her fist and followed through with a knee to the groin. He went down on one knee, holding himself and moaning. No more fighting for him tonight. She didn’t feel bad; the girlie punch probably saved his life. By this time, Ryan had cuffs on two other human combatants, others were backing away, and Andreas and his people were thinning out the vampire ranks.

“All right, everyone,” Ryan bellowed. “Fun’s over. The next person who takes a swing is going to jail.”

The noise level had diminished enough that his voice carried this time. Heads turned. Ryan glowered at them, a drawn weapon held over his head, pointed up. Human participants froze. Andreas and his recruits closed in on the remaining vampires. Suddenly, it was over.

Three humans went to the hospital—broken bones and a concussion—but none died. The police had three werewolves in custody, who had joined the fight for the fun of it, maybe, and Andreas took five young vampires away to whatever they used for confinement. Ari didn’t ask for details. That was his deal. The rest of the crowd dispersed before they ended up on someone’s detention list.

The Sin& Skin mêlée was the last hurrah for the night. The police kept the barricades up until dawn, and Prince Daron’s lieutenants and recruits continued to patrol the streets. When Ari crossed paths with Andreas during one round of patrol, she asked him about the club. He said the fire inspectors were finished and crews were at work on the restoration. He planned to re-open by Tuesday. Ambitious schedule, but that was Andreas.

The city’s tension grew during the day on Saturday. The morning TV news carried in-depth coverage of the overnight disturbances, and radio talk shows fueled the dissent. The Clarion stuck to the facts without commentary. Luckily the vampires were asleep during the worst of this. At one point the mayor threatened to call in National Guard units, which appeared to dampen the humans’ enthusiasm. Olde Town bars agreed to stay closed for the evening, and regular patrols by both human and Otherworld authorities gradually brought and maintained order. The night and early morning hours on Sunday passed without incident, and at dawn the vampires were once again out of circulation.

On Sunday afternoon, Ari met with Andreas and Ryan at the club to assess the situation away from the reporters swarming the PD. She came early to tour the restoration, where repairs were on schedule. When Ryan was late, Ari and Andreas sat down to talk, choosing a table near the club stage, far away from the noise of the reconstruction. Seconds later, Ryan stomped across the floor, looking like a thundercloud.

“What’s wrong with you now?” Ari asked. She couldn’t remember a case that had made her human cop partner so out-of-sorts. Of course, they’d never had a demon serial killer before.

Ryan opened a shiny, black leather briefcase and pulled out a folder. Selecting three photos, he threw them on the table face up. Victim pictures. “I don’t know why they died. That’s what’s wrong.” His voice was clipped, angry. He remained standing, his stance almost belligerent, as if he expected someone to disagree with him. “I can’t get a handle on this case. At first, I thought I had a domestic problem and the suspect was in custody. Then, it looked like hate crimes targeted at vampire-human relationships. After that came the shooting attack on Andreas. OK, I could still make the theory fit.” He glanced at Ari. “If someone saw you with Andreas, they might think you were human. You look it.” He stared at the photos again. “But this demon thing destroys that theory, too. Wouldn’t he, she, or it know Ari isn’t human? So the pattern is broken. It’s like he’s screwing with us—turning humans and vampires against each other.”

“I agree with you,” was Andreas’s immediate response. “The creature is making mischief.”

“Making mischief! Three murders, a shooting, and an arson?” Ryan stared at Andreas in disbelief.

“That is how the demon would see it,” Andreas said. “Compared with normal demon behavior, this is mild. Wholesale slaughter would be more in character.”

“Maybe he’s just a modern demon,” Ryan muttered under his breath. “Civilized and all.”

Ari glanced at the photos on the table. Jules, Patricia. Vanessa’s face stared back at her, looking more accusatory than Ari remembered. She took a swallow of the lukewarm coffee that she’d neglected, and responded to Andreas. “Are you thinking the demon wandered into town by accident and is amusing himself?”

“Not by accident. No, but—”

Ryan didn’t wait for him to finish. “Amusing himself? Holy shit!” He ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t believe you’d joke about that.”

“I wasn’t joking,” Ari said. “Andreas was trying to tell you. They don’t think like we do. They’re that word you won’t let me use.”

Andreas’s head swung to look at Ari.

“Ryan doesn’t like for me to talk about e-v-i-l,” she explained, spelling it out.

Ryan glowered.

“If demons don’t have a job, they have to do something to pass the time,” she said. “But it’s more likely he’s getting paid.”

“If that’s the case, who would hire this thing?” Ryan waited for someone to make sense of it.

Andreas nodded. “Someone not afraid of a demon, which I believe narrows our choices to the Otherworld. We should consider the possibility that an enemy of Prince Daron could have recruited the demon to set the stage for another attempt to take over the crown. It is a strategy we have seen before.”

“Sebastian? Is that what you’re suggesting?” Ari asked, her voice sharp. She’d met the disgusting prince on one occasion and didn’t care to repeat the experience. Short, toad-like, with a Hitler mustache. Sebastian had tested her abilities, and she still thought her escape from his clutches owed more to luck than anything else. He was savage and dangerous in the extreme, and he had an obsessive hatred for Prince Daron.

“Why not? We talked about it before.” Andreas shrugged. “Sebastian would not hesitate to employ and manipulate the powers of a demon, while others might shy away from such a risk.” A satisfied smile touched his lips. “Perhaps Sebastian had the club attacked because he is irritated by my part in his defeat last fall. Of course, Daron has lived many centuries, and has collected a lengthy list of enemies including powerful authorities in Europe.”

“Europe?” First time Ari had heard of this. “What has he done?”

“What authorities?” Ryan demanded.

Ari’s gaze whipped to Ryan’s face, envisioning the cop trying to take Daron into custody on behalf of Interpol or some foreign government.

“Vampire authorities.” Andreas’s lips thinned. “Nothing to involve you, Lieutenant. I mention it only as an illustration of the number of enemies who might wish to destroy Prince Daron’s court.”

“Fair enough,” Ryan said. He had no interest in vampire affairs. In fact, he hated the very idea and was satisfied to let Andreas get away with such a vague answer.

Ari wasn’t satisfied at all. “What did he do?” she repeated. “What kind of vampire authorities?” She remembered the portrait on Andreas’s staircase. The Original Seven. Hadn’t one of them been Daron’s sire? How could he be in trouble with them? She wanted to ask more, but decided she’d better not mention the portrait in front of Ryan. That had been a private night.

“It is not that kind of problem.” Andreas gave a long-suffering sigh. “The old ones do not approve of Daron’s methods of governing. They think he is too democratic and fear his heresy will spread. Now, are we finished with this irrelevant topic?”

“Is that all? Doesn’t sound very serious to me. Why would anyone in Europe care what’s happening in America?”

Andreas’s frown deepened.

“OK, guys,” Ryan intervened. “Can we stay focused, concentrate on the enemies close at hand? Until something proves us wrong, let’s assume this evil demon of yours is our bad guy on-the-scene. If we find him, we stop the immediate threat.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Ari said, glancing at Andreas in time to see the relief on his face. He was pleased that Ryan had cut off her questions. Someday she’d follow up. It was important, especially if these old ones had influence over Sebastian. A scary alliance.

Ryan suddenly turned to Andreas. “One last thing, before we get off this subject. If this turns out to be Sebastian or one of these European vampires, Prince Daron has to do something about it this time. Your vampire feuds keep spilling over into my territory.”

Andreas shrugged. “Easier said than done, but I can promise our vampire court will discuss possible options. We will not let this go without retribution.”

“Make it a permanent solution this time,” Ryan said, “but for now, I’ll take what I can get.” He turned back to the table and pointed at the photos. “Considering your demon theory, are the victim profiles useful or not?”

“Yes.” Andreas and Ari said as one.

“How?”

“You first,” she said, leaning back in the chair.

Andreas shrugged. “Regardless of his motivation, the killer chose his victims by some method. There are too many similarities to be random. Race, availability, personal dislike. Whatever, but the pattern points to Shale’s agency. That is the consistent link.”

“Ari, do you agree?” Ryan turned to her.

“Took the words out of my mouth. Only I’ll take it a step further. The demon may be posing as human, an agency volunteer or employee: counselor, aide, clerical, janitorial. It would have constant access, and what better place to hide?”

“Sounds like the ultimate identity theft. At least that’s something I can understand. Can’t you sense this thing, like you do with other creatures? Unmask him?” Ryan gave Ari a hopeful look.

“Maybe I could, if it wasn’t blocking its magical energy. I still might pick up slight power leaks, but lots of people, especially counselors, give off some psi ability. Shale does. So does Sarah Young. I pick up better if I’m touching, and I only shook hands with those two. I can’t very well demand to touch everyone in the building.”

Ari thought about the agency staff she’d met. Shale, Sarah, Amelia Binderman, the other counselors. Was one of them a demon? None had been unpleasant, friendly in fact. Of course, a creature would act that way if they had something to hide. She hadn’t yet met the fifth counselor or several members of the support staff.

“I could do more interviews. Try to shake a few hands. I assume you’ll broaden your background checks to anyone who regularly comes into the building,” she said, looking at Ryan. He nodded. “I’ll go back to the agency tomorrow, and at least meet Freida Stanley, who wasn’t available last time. Until then, I’ll start researching for a way to stop this thing.”

Andreas straightened his long limbs and stood. “I must leave the locating and unmasking of this creature with the two of you. My priorities must be the vampire community, the protection of the prince, and restraining our people from shedding further blood. Part of that is returning the club to normalcy. With Daron and I as owners, its continued closure makes us look vulnerable.” He gave them a warning look. “If the demon strikes again, Daron’s control could collapse.” With those unexpected words, Andreas strode toward the construction area.

Ryan and Ari stared at one another in alarm.