I sat back, thinking. It wasn’t NOPD—totally out of their jurisdiction. That left FBI and The Psychometry Law Enforcement Division of Homeland Security. The agency had fingers in every paranormal pie in the country except for the witches, most of whom grew up together, related by blood and heritage. Witches were a hard nut to crack even for PsyLed.
“I accused him of being PsyLed,” Rick said, letting me know that we were thinking alike. “When he said no, I could hear the lie. Seems I have cat ears now, to go along with the improved sense of smell and vision.” Rick sipped his coffee and bit into a homemade biscuit.
“Even if I don’t shift at the next full moon my life is going to suck three days a month for the rest of my unnatural life. It won’t be like I can hide it. No agency or department would have me except undercover with African black were-cats, none of which will exist in the U.S. when Kem sobers up enough to go home. Even if there were were-cats here, I’d have a hard time infiltrating. Their sense of smell is too acute. They’d pick up on any hidden agenda and tear me apart. So my life as a cop is gone unless I admit I’ve got the were-taint and join PsyLed as an outted supe. Half supe. Like that.” Rick shrugged, eyes on the coffee in his cup. “Anyway, that’s a decision for another day. Smith Jones had a job for me. He asked me to make contact with you, see if you could get me close to the vamps. He wants me to join your security team.”
My heart went cold as a stone. Deep inside, Beast chuffed with laughter, which made no sense, as anger shot through me like frozen lightning. “You son of a bitch,” I murmured, without inflection, setting down my cup. “You want to use me to get close to Leo.”
Rick laughed and a tension I hadn’t consciously recognized left his limbs. He sat back in the booth and met my eyes. “I told him no.” My mouth opened and closed with a snap. “I’ll always want to be a cop,” he said, “but my life is different. Forever. So, no cozying up to friends and lovers to find out info. Except for one thing that might be important.”
“And that is?”
“Why did Evangelina leave talks that were progressing so well between the vamps and witches and come back to Asheville? The vamp and witch parley has stalled. Jodi told me no new meetings have taken place since she left. Why did Leo finally agree to an MOC parley? Two questions that ended up here, together.” Rick leaned back to his plate and ate several more bites. One of the girls refilled our cups, lingering, as if for an opening in the intense silence to chat with pretty boy Ricky Bo. When she wandered away, her disappointment was an odor on the air. Softly, Rick said, “A small group of New Orleans vampires kidnapped and killed witch children for decades. Centuries. And Evangelina Everhart walks out on restitution talks? Not in a manufactured huff she could use to get concessions from vamps who want to settle. But just wanders away.” His fingers walked through the air as if floating.
PsyLed was worried about the same things I was, which was just weird. Of course, I knew about Amy Lynn Brown’s miraculous recovery, and they didn’t. But weirder was Evil Evie’s display of spell casting, which Rick didn’t know about. She had an agenda. I sipped. Rick ate. I offered my thoughts as far as I could. “She knew about the parley for MOC status.” Rick nodded as if that was obvious. And it was. There were only just so many people she might be here for. I was pretty sure she hadn’t followed the twins or Derek and the security types. That left Rick and Kemnebi, but she wasn’t hanging around the Tennessee side of the mountains. And so that left Grégoire and me, here in Asheville, though as far as I could tell, she had gotten here before either of us. “Do you, or Jodi, or PsyLed have any idea why Leo chose Grégoire, specifically, to handle this parley, over his own heir?”
“Initially, Leo was supposed to come himself.” When I raised my brows, Rick shrugged. “It’s scuttlebutt. Leo trusts Grégoire. They were lovers in France before they emigrated here. Maybe for a century.” He laughed at my expression. “Leo swings all ways—human, vampire, bi. I just heard about it. That info just got added to the woo-woo files yesterday when a photocopy of Magnolia Sweets’ diary was delivered to NOPD, no fingerprints, no return address, so it could be fake, but it makes sense.”