“I suppose all that matters is that Lazarus didn’t know your current identity. On to the next concern. You were clocked at speeds of up to eighty miles an hour when you chased down Lazarus, and some of the team said that after the three of you left the cave, you came out with blood on your faces. Anything you want to tell me about?”
Don was no fool. He knew my previous best was sixty miles an hour. Add that to the elevated levels of antibody in my bloodstream, and he had every cause to be suspicious. The three men categorically denied any unusual activity, citing Brams as the reason for their pathology results. Who was I to make it easy for him?
“No.”
Don sighed and pushed his chair back to stare at the wall for a minute. When he turned around, he’d given up on that line of questioning.
“You shot Danny Milton. Is that a new hostage negotiation tactic I’m not aware of?”
He sounded faintly approving. Danny didn’t have many fans, especially after nearly blowing my cover and Dave’s subsequent death.
“I wanted to distract the vampires. It worked.”
“Yes it did. We have him in witness protection. I don’t think he’ll be stupid enough to brag about you anymore. Not that there’s anything he could tell now. The cleaners have been busy with him.”
Cleaners. A nice term for the brainwashers. I wished I’d shot him in the head instead of the side. Then I could have staked Lazarus, and Dave would have been alive. Now I owed Danny for three things—my virginity, ratting me to the police years ago, and Dave.
“Cat.” Don stood and I followed suit. “I know you blame yourself. Everyone liked Dave. After reading the reports, it’s been determined that it was his own error which led to his death. He should have remained at attention instead of lowering his gun. It was a mistake that cost him his life. I’m giving you the next two weeks off. No training, no recruiting, no checking in. Clear your mind and shake off the guilt. There’s something to be said for living instead of just existing.”
I gave a humorless laugh. “Living? What a neat idea. I’ll try that.”
EIGHT
“CAT, NICE TO SEE you again.”
Don’s words were pleasant, but his expression told me he was about to piss me off. It was my first day back from a two-week forced vacation, and I was actually glad to get back to work. I spent the time either condemning myself over Dave’s death, or brooding over the knowledge that Bones was truly lost to me. Somehow, I’d pictured him still in that cave, waiting should I ever decide to return. Illogical, irrational, and incorrect, as it turned out. The scent of him to my improved nose was so faint as to be almost nonexistent. Bones hadn’t been there for years.
So, back to the grind where my life was regularly in peril? Sounded good to me.
“There’s something you’re not aware of,” Don went on. “It was a judgment call not to tell you immediately, but it’s time to inform you.”
“What?” Ice edged the single word. “What did you in your cleverness decide to hide from me?”
He frowned. “Don’t be snide. I made my decision based on the information that was pertinent at the time. Since you’re recovering from a poor call yourself, you shouldn’t be so quick to cast blame.”
Uh oh, he was defensive. That wasn’t a good sign. “Okay, lay it out. What don’t I know?”
“After Dave died, you were understandably distraught. That’s why I gave you time off. Four days into your vacation, I received a phone call from witness protection. Danny Milton had disappeared.”
“He what?!” I jumped up and pounded my fist against the top of his desk. All his papers and equipment jumped. “How could you not have told me that? I didn’t kill Lazarus because of that sniveling shit, and Dave died because of my decision!”
Don regarded me calmly. “I didn’t tell you because of how you’re reacting now. Dave was a soldier before he met you, Cat. He knew the risks. Don’t take that away from him. It would make him a lesser man than he was.”
“Save the sermon for Sunday, preacher,” I snapped. “Has there been any word of Danny? A body, anything? How the fuck did he vanish four days after we left Ohio? Wasn’t he moved to a safe location like I instructed?”
“We flew him to Chicago and had him in the hospital under guard. Frankly we don’t know what happened. Tate went to the scene himself after it happened. He saw nothing. Danny Milton hasn’t been seen or heard from since.”
“It was a vampire.” My reply was immediate. “Only a vampire could move in and out that easily without being noticed or alarming the guards. Probably mind-fucked them into forgetting they even saw him. Something had to be left at the scene. Vampires always leave a clue—it’s like their calling card! I’m going to that hospital.”
“No you’re not. The scene was checked and photographed, but that isn’t the issue now. The issue is whether Danny is still alive, and if so, whether he’s a security risk. Is there anything you said in front of him that could be used against you? Even though he had his memory altered, is there any risk you can think of?”
My mind was too fixated on the sly way Danny was taken. There had to be a clue. Tate just hadn’t found it.