Desmarais took up from Bettina. “In appreciation for his services and yours, we have placed official commendations in your files, and arranged for the psychometer on loan to your department to become your equipment permanently.”
Jodi looked like she would rather chew through shoe leather than accept the compliment or the device from the people outing Rick, but she knew it was a coup, and logic overrode pique. She managed a simple, “Thank you.”
“You are dismissed,” Desmarais said.
At the dismissal, Jodi looked like she wanted to choke, but I just turned and went to the door. A bouncer unlocked and opened it with an ear-popping change of air pressure and a little swish of air. Airtight, soundproofed. If they had wanted to snack on us, no one would ever have known. I went out, my knees releasing the clench I’d held to keep them from knocking. The relieved breath that whooshed out was more noisy than I’d have liked, but Jodi didn’t comment as she followed. Silently, we traipsed through the house to the front door, followed and led by the bouncers, our muscle-bound escorts. We didn’t see Bruiser.
Outside, the air was moist and heavy from the storm. I blinked at the cloudy sky, seeing a sudden overlay of the death of the liver-eater and Antoine. My breath went unsteady. For the first time I let myself react to the fact that it could have been me on Leo’s floor, dead. Or me on the floor of the vamp council, dead. I’d come close to being dead several times tonight. Real close, real dead.
Jodi’s cop shoes followed me to my motorcycle, little clip-taps of sound. “Looks like you’ll be sticking around for a while,” she said to my back. “Give me a call. We can do coffee.”
Hiding my surprise, schooling my face, I picked up my helmet, thinking as I straddled the bike. I faced her, studying her expression, which was a little belligerent, as if she expected to be rebuffed and maybe thought she should be. “You just want to know everything I know about vamps,” I said, giving a half smile to take the edge off.
“Yeah. You got a problem with that?” When I shrugged, she added, “I like you. I’m not asking to do a spa day together or a sleepover or anything. Coffee. Maybe some beignets.”
“That would be nice,” I said, carefully. “My friend Molly may be coming to town. You got anything against earth witches?”
“Nope.” She turned and walked down the curving drive. Over her shoulder she said, “My mother is a witch. So are two of my sisters. Later, Jane Yellowrock. I’ll call.”
I made it back to my freebie house just before dawn, left Bitsa in the yard, her engine pinging, and climbed the steps to the back door. I was so tired my teeth ached with each footfall. As I rattled the key in the lock, all I could think about was the bed. Without turning on the lights, I entered and tossed the keys on the table next to the weapons I’d left piled there. And stopped like I’d been punched.
My crosses were faintly glowing—all of them—not with the brightness of the full moon, but the soft greenish phosphorescence of minerals in a cave, in the deeps of jungle pools, a pale warning of distant danger. My heart tripped and sped. I went still, breathing in, Beast rising in me, sending out her senses, questing. The house felt empty, as if nothing else alive was present. But that didn’t mean I was alone. Too tired to notice when I entered, I now scented anise and papyrus and the peppery taint of vamp on the air. Leo was here. Somewhere.
He didn’t know what I was, didn’t know I could smell him. Or he didn’t care, which was infinitely worse. Beast drew in tight, quivering through my veins and nerves. Predator in my den, she thought, a snarl in the words.
Silently, I picked up two stakes, holding them left-handed, one sharpened end forward, the other pointing back, and pulled two crosses over my head to dangle on their chains. There wasn’t time to better outfit myself for a fight; without my jacket and gear there was nothing to shield me from vamp fangs and talons. Remembering Katie’s grief, I knew it sometimes took their sanity away. It wasn’t enough to protect me in a hand-to-fang battle against an aged, deadly powerful vamp—even assuming he was still sane.
Lastly, I picked up my favorite vamp-killer, its blade eighteen inches of heavily silvered steel. The blade brought me luck, but I felt nothing when I gripped the elkhorn hilt except my own slick sweat.