“Your loss,” Oliver replied, his voice muffled as he turned over.
“Still haven’t figured out what to do with him?” Caleb asked almost sympathetically.
“I can hear you!” Oliver shouted. A second later I heard him throw off the covers. He padded over to us, clad in only in royal purple boxers with yellow fleur de lises all over them. “And I have many uses.”
Caleb’s eyebrows shot up. “You two slept together like that?”
“I didn’t think I’d get groped!” I said.
“It was an accident,” Oliver said, exasperated. His eyes flicked to Caleb. “But it will probably happen again—maybe I should switch rooms,” he said, eyeing my partner.
“Or get your own, moocher,” I said.
Caleb pulled out his phone to check the time. “Grigori’s going to be here in twenty minutes, so …” So you might want to get your asses moving. He was too polite to say that, but his meaning was clear.
“Yeah, yeah.” I rubbed my face, now remembering why I had to get up at the buttcrack of dawn. I had to give my statement. Again.
Just one more awesome event to add to my sucktastic winter vacation.
Boo.
I slurped down my third cup of coffee in one of the Politia’s conference rooms.
“So do you know what type of supernaturals either of them were?” Grigori asked. Another officer sat next to him, but Grigori was responsible for taking my official statement.
I rested my hands palms up on the table and stared at them. “No, I have no idea what they were.”
Frustration and embarrassment welled up in me. I was too young and too inexperienced to be an expert on this case. At least, that’s what I told myself to feel better. A small part of me wasn’t buying it. I really wanted to prove myself wrong, and I hadn’t been able to yet.
“But when you spoke into the mike last night,” Grigori continued, “you told us you thought one of those women might be a siren.”
I nodded, playing with my coffee’s plastic lid. “At the time I thought she was. She glamoured the crowd last night. I thought only sirens had that ability, so I assumed that’s what she was. But her skin didn’t light up when she used it. And she smelled funny, like ash and roses.” Not that I knew what I smelled like. Maybe I smelled like roasted flowers.
“Also,” I added, “she told me she wasn’t a siren.”
Grigori scribbled something down on a notepad he had with him before continuing.
“And the other women,” he said, “did she have any special traits or abilities?”
My hands fisted. “Like me, she was immune to glamour, and she moved faster than any supernatural being I know of.” I stared at my nails, my mind far away. “Both women referred to me as ‘consort,’ and she also called me some name …” I trailed off as I tried to remember it. “It started with a ‘P’.” I frowned at the memory. The women were clearly fans of the man in the suit.
It went like that for another hour as Grigori squeezed out every detail of the evening. As we were wrapping up, he asked me one final question. “Why do you think they wanted to talk to you?”
I thought of the first woman’s interest in me and her strange reverence. I shook my head. “I have no idea.”
While Oliver was out shopping and playing tourist in Cluj, Caleb and I spent the afternoon piecing together what we knew. So far, we had two random murder locations, two elusive murder suspects, and only the most obscure motive.
“At least we know now why our victims showed no signs of resistance other than the wounds on their feet,” Caleb said.
I pushed down the bile at the thought. They’d been glamoured into compliance, into offering over their lives.
“Do you think that these victim’s could’ve given their blood willingly if they’d been asked to under glamour?” The question burned on its way out of my lips.
Caleb hesitated. “Maybe,” he finally said. He glanced down at his notes. “You said that one of the suspects mentioned she was following orders. If that’s true, who do you think is giving them?” Caleb asked, tapping a pen against the table.
“I don’t know,” I said. But I did—or at least I had an idea. The ritualistic manner in which each victim was killed, the way the siren wannabe bowed to me, the names I’d been referred to.
“You’re not saying the obvious,” Caleb stated. When I glanced at him he held my gaze. “Gabrielle, the devil has to be behind this.”
After a moment of silence, I gave him a sharp nod, conceding to his words. “I’ve sort of been in denial.”
“I can tell.” Caleb stared at me for a beat longer. He seemed to decide on something before he spoke again. “And I know you can tell that I’ve been distant for a while now.”
Oh boy, we were going to have this conversation.
“It’s just that you were with the devil for an evening, Gabrielle, and you’re a vampire. I’ve been conditioned to see those things as threats to the supernatural community.”
I shifted in my seat. “Can we just go back to talking—”
“Good and evil are real things in our world, and genetically, you’re predisposed for evil.”
“Gee, thanks Caleb.”
He shrugged, biting down on the edge of his pen. Then his open features darkened. “On the night of Samhain—the devil had you for God knows how long. I can’t imagine all you went through. How you must have suffered.”
An image of Leanne’s empty eyes surfaced. I pushed it away. “Caleb, I really don’t want to talk about this.” I hadn’t, not since I’d given my official statement. Only Andre and the officers recording my statement knew.
Caleb leaned forward and captured my hand in his own. “I need you to know why I’ve acted the way I have.”
I glanced down at the way his hand folded around mine. The gesture was relatively innocent, but his scent betrayed his feelings.
I nodded for him to go on, pretending that I couldn’t smell his desire.