I clambered up to the main entrance of the Politia’s headquarters the next afternoon, ducking my head as afternoon sunlight burned my skin. The island wasn’t sunny that often, but when it was, it didn’t take much to fry me.
Inside the castle, people bustled around, moving perhaps a tad slower as the afternoon dragged on. A few officers cast curious glances my way, either because they knew I’d been suspended or because they’d seen my name and picture in the newspaper.
I walked up to Anna, the receptionist. “I’m here for my scheduled appointment.”
“Name?”
“Gabrielle Fiori.” As if she didn’t know it—I was infamous here.
Anna typed away at her computer. “Ah, yes. Your appointment is on the third floor, room number three thirteen.”
“Who am I meeting with?”
She scanned her screen. “Inspector Byron Jennings.” A.k.a., Caleb’s father and possibly the man who tried to kill me in Andre’s club a couple months ago.
Perfect.
***
I could smell his distaste for me as soon as I entered his room. The feeling was mutual.
Like Caleb, Byron had wavy golden hair. But unlike his son, Byron’s face had set into a permanent frown. His low brow and the hardened lines along his forehead and the edges of his lips didn’t help much.
He didn’t speak as I took a seat, but he did finger the page in front of him. “I’ve read over the report you placed last night,” he said by way of introduction.
His voice carried only a hint of the Australian accent his son had. It made me wonder how long Byron Jennings had lived and worked here while Caleb grew up in Australia. Father and son seemed to have a solid relationship, but now I wondered how much time they’d actually spent together over the years.
Inspector Jennings fell silent, letting the quiet press down on me. I felt compelled to say something, anything to break the silence and to explain myself. And then I remembered that he wasn’t a hardened inspector for nothing.
When I made it clear that I wouldn’t respond, he sighed. “Demons. That was the best you could come up with?”
I reminded myself that he hadn’t seen the map—I doubted the report in front of him even mentioned the ley line that ran through the crime scenes, considering how brief my conversation with the receptionist had been last night.
“Inspector Jennings, the murders were committed along ley lines.”
His eyebrow rose at this. “That doesn’t prove a thing. A vampire still could’ve committed these crimes.”
“Andre said the bodies lacked the smell of fear.”
“Did he? Funny that he only mentioned it now that the truce is threatened.” Inspector Jennings’ attitude was really starting to piss me off.
“I’m serious.”
Jennings slammed his palm and forearm flat against his desk. “So am I. Bring me some real proof. Until then, our time here is done.”
***
I left Inspector Jennings office with no intention of giving up. People’s lives hung in the balance, and I wasn’t going to let a little thing like classicism get in the way.
Chief Constable Morgan’s office was on the same floor as Byron Jennings’, but in the opposite direction of the stairwell. I’d almost made it down the hall and around the corner when I heard an office door open behind me.
“Hey!” Inspector Jennings barked. “Exit’s in the other direction.”
I pretended to not hear him until his footfalls slapped against the floor. Then I started sprinting.
“Hey!” he called again behind me.
I rounded the corner of the hallway and came to the chief constable’s office. I didn’t bother knocking; I barged right in.
The chief constable was in the middle of a meeting with what looked like a very important, very beautiful woman. Behind me I could hear Inspector Jennings getting closer, so I wasted no time on formalities. I pulled out the map I’d used last night and slapped it down on the table.
“Ley lines. All the crime scenes fall along ley lines.” Chief Constable Morgan looked shocked, though whether it was from my entrance or my information I couldn’t tell. The women eyed me curiously. “The killer is a demon, and he’s using ley lines to travel to different Otherworld entrances along the island.”
Jennings came in behind me, snatched my arms, and began cuffing me. “Sorry sir,” he said, giving my wrists a yank, “I’ll escort her off the premises.”
Chief Constable Morgan’s eyebrows drew together. His guest shot Jennings a horrified look.
“Listen,” I said. “I don’t care if you don’t believe me. Just alert the community to stay away from the ley lines.”
***