CHAPTER Nineteen
Ari woke at dawn, shivering. A cold breeze blew in her open bedroom window, rattling the blinds. But the real reason for her chill was the dream.
She’d been looking in the window of Molyneux’s library. A large, red wolf laughed as he dropped silver coins into the hands of a shadowy figure. Ari struggled to make out the other face but could never quite see it. The wolf counted the coins, one by one. She heard the metallic clinks. When he reached the thirtieth piece of silver, she woke, his laughter ringing in her ears, the face of Judas still unseen.
Ari closed the window and snuggled under the covers. She didn’t feel nearly as complacent about last night’s events. She’d had other dream fragments since childhood whenever faced with difficult or disturbing problems. In this case, her subconscious was searching for the traitor who tipped the wolves to the raid. While Molyneux’s trip appeared to be an unhappy twist of fate, the escape of the pack was due to a last minute warning…one only a limited number of people could have given.
Ryan would blame Andreas. He trusted Ari, he trusted his cops, and he’d trust Steffan because Ari did. In Ryan’s mind, Andreas and his vampires would be the only suspects left. Besides, Ryan found vampires the most inhuman. In his book, that translated to least trusted.
Ari didn’t want Andreas to be the leak, but wanting wouldn’t make it so. She kept remembering the first night in Goshen Park. Had he been tracking the wolf, like he said, or meeting him?
She turned over, fluffed the pillow, and drifted back into a restless sleep.
* * *
An hour later, Ari woke to the jarring ring of the phone. ID came up as Ryan. She groaned, not yet ready to deal with him and the inevitable accusations. But his first words brought her wide-awake.
“Molyneux crossed the border during the night. He’s back in Canada. Border guards apparently missed our BOLO.” He sounded exasperated and grumpy. “I don’t know what happened to the rest of the pack. No one was with him. Sheila Montgomery is the only other name we’ve got, and it hasn’t popped up anywhere.”
“Then they might still be near Riverdale,” Ari said.
“They could be almost anywhere.”
Maybe, but Olde Town was where they had contacts. Someone in town had helped them. The way Ari figured it, they’d hide nearby until Molyneux got in touch with further instructions.
Ryan asked if she’d heard from Andreas yet. When she said no, neither of them pursued the subject. Ari was glad to delay a discussion of Ryan’s suspicions until they had more information. The longer the delay, the better. Who knew? Something good could happen in the meantime.
To keep busy while she waited to hear from Andreas, she followed through on a promise to Claris. They spent the day cutting, separating, and tying medicinal plants and herbs to be dried. Claris acted a bit lonely with Brando out of town at a five-day conference on scientific wizardry. The busywork was a good chance for the two friends to catch up on gossip and indulge in girl talk.
On the way home late that night, Ari smelled the presence of werewolves. She took a meandering route through Olde Town, not wanting to lead them to her front door. She doubled back three times, hoping to catch them, but she didn’t see a single wolf. When the smell and tingle of their Otherworld energy finally dissipated, she went home. Ari was determined to put an end to this soon. The wolves were becoming far too bold.
* * *
When the night passed with still no word from Andreas, Ryan called first thing in the morning. His suspicions had taken root and flourished over night.
“If Andreas is working with the wolves and tipped off Molyneux, he wouldn’t want us to know what Gordon and Marcus have to say.” Ryan’s voice dripped with accusation. “Now that I think about it, he was very anxious to take them away. How do we know we’ll ever see them again? Hell, they could both be dust by now.”
“Come on, Ryan. Andreas isn’t going to harm Marcus. He was worried about him. Searched every night for him.”
“Or that’s what he wanted you to think,” Ryan countered. “Makes a good cover.”
“Cover for what? What’s this big conspiracy about?” Ari thought Ryan was letting the stress and frustration get to him.
“I don’t know…yet.”
She didn’t share his suspicions. Not really. But he’d planted the seed. Or maybe watered it. The rest of the day, Ari replayed recent events in her head, searching for logical explanations. Something to prove Ryan was wrong—and that she hadn’t made a big mistake by trusting a vampire.
What would Andreas gain from an alliance with Molyneux? The werewolf could be interested in the money, but the vampire? Ari didn’t think so. Not judging by the decor of the club and his expensive clothes. Power or revenge, maybe, but not money. Damn, why didn’t he call?
When the phone finally rang shortly after dark, Ari snatched it, hoping to hear Andreas’s voice. Her tense shoulders relaxed. Gordon was awake and talking.
“What did he say? Does he know why they took him?”
Andreas hesitated. “It would be better for everyone to hear the words directly from Gordon. So there is no question of interpretation. Where can we meet?”
“What’s wrong with the police station?”
He hesitated again. “I’m not certain Gordon is ready for such an intimidating atmosphere.”
And maybe Gordon wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to be surrounded by human cops, Ari thought. Vampires weren’t real keen about outside authorities. In this case, Andreas didn’t trust the police anymore than they trusted him. She racked her brain for some place to meet that was neutral territory. Eventually, it dawned on her that she had an office. She’d only been in it once, but she had an assigned space at the Otherworld Cultural Center attached to the Magic Hall.
As soon as Andreas consented to the location, she called Ryan, and he approved. At least she’d found something they could agree on.
Ari arrived early at the Magic Hall in order to track down a set of keys. The white-haired custodian blinked at her request. His rheumy eyes peered at her from under bushy white eyebrows. After she explained who she was and showed him her ID, he placed two keys in her hand.
“You’re responsible for any guests,” he said sternly.
Ari produced a smile meant to reassure him, but she wasn’t sure it worked. The ancient custodian frowned, shaking his head as he shuffled down the hall.
Maybe the ponytail didn’t inspire confidence, Ari decided. It made her look too young. She pulled out the band and shook her hair loose. She’d need all the authority she could muster during the next hour or two.
Her office was a roomy rectangle, with an oak desk, leather chairs and a conference table that seated six, eight in a pinch. The well-worn chairs looked relatively comfortable and had that pleasant smell of old leather. A bookcase with two books, a Cultural Center Manual and an English dictionary, stood against one wall. Overhead lights and a gold-plated desk lamp with a green shade provided adequate lighting. No dust. Somebody must come in and clean. Who knew?
Ari picked up the manual, selected a chair on the far side of the table, and prepared to wait. As she thumbed through the book, the other participants trooped through her open door in one large group. Everyone was dressed casually in jeans and jackets. Andreas’s sleek leather jacket appeared to be his usual brand.
Ryan’s lips were drawn in a tight line. Grumpy, she concluded. Andreas was wearing his polite mask. Ari sighed. Resigned to the inevitable, she ignored the animosity of the two men and focused on the witness.
Without the feral stare from blood deprivation, Gordon was a nice looking vampire. A little too punk for Ari’s taste, with the head bandanna and the heavy jewelry, but she could see why he appealed to Rita. The attitude didn’t match his style. Gordon was twitchy; his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed repeatedly. She wondered if this was typical behavior or a side effect of his recent captivity. He stuck close to Andreas.
Ryan chose the seat next to Ari, back against the wall, forcing the vampires to sit with their backs to the door. She hid a smile at Ryan’s maneuvering.
Andreas introduced the young vamp and encouraged him to speak freely. “Just tell them in your own words what happened after you left Rita’s place.”
Gordon took a deep breath. “I was running home. It was late, almost daybreak. This black van drove by, twice. Wolf dudes inside. Offered me a ride, but I could get home faster on my own, so I blew them off. Next thing I knew, a couple of them were running beside me, asking if I knew some chick I never heard of named Sherry. Told ’em no. Figured they’d leave then, but they kept at it. ‘Get in the van. Help us find her.’ When I said no again, they jumped on my back, and I felt a prick in my neck. That’s it, till I woke in the cellar.”
“And then?” Andreas prompted.
“I couldn’t see, because of a hood. I smelled wolves and a vampire. My hands and legs were chained. After awhile, a she-wolf made them take the hood off. She gave me a packet of blood, said if I answered questions they’d let me go. She left, and another wolf asked a bunch of really bizarro questions. I asked if I could go now, but they laughed and put the hood back on. They beat me with silver clubs.” He stopped talking, his shoulders hunched.
Andreas put a hand on his shoulder. “Take your time.”
When the young vamp had composed himself, Ari jumped in before he finished his story. “These questions—what did they ask?”
Gordon looked at her for the first time. “Stupid stuff. What foods I used to like or hate. Movie ratings. Stuff about girls. Sex. Music groups. Like they were taking a poll. They wouldn’t tell me why.”
“Did they seem to be looking for a particular answer? Like they wanted you to say you liked red-haired girls, for example?”
“Not then, that came later.”
“What do you mean?”
Andreas intervened before Gordon answered. “This might make more sense, if you let him tell it in order.”
Ari shrugged. “I can wait. Tell us what happened after the hood went back on.”
“Somebody stuck a needle in my arm. The next time I woke up my skin felt like it was on fire. I was wrapped like a mummy with the ropes and silver chains. My head hurt.” He touched his forehead, as if remembering the pain. “Everyone was gone. I still smelled the vampire, so I tried to talk to him. He never answered. Another wolf came, or maybe the same one, I don’t know. Jabbed me with a needle again.” Gordon stopped. “That’s all I remember clearly. After that…just little bits.” His voice faltered. Gordon’s left hand trembled, and he hid it under the table.
“What kind of bits? Did you learn what they wanted?”
“Nothing made sense. Voices. Needle pricks. Funky smells. Everything was hazy. Inside my head, I mean. Couldn’t get it clear.” Gordon frowned. “Questions. Over and over. I finally started trying to give the answer I thought they wanted. Sometimes I wasn’t sure the voices I heard were real. Maybe just inside my head. Music. Smells, like flowers and cologne. And cooked cabbage. Smelled rotten.” He wrinkled his nose. “Someone told me I liked cabbage. I gagged and got hit with the club.”
“Are those the same questions the first wolf asked?” Ari probed.
Gordon looked surprised. “Maybe. Yeah, now I think about it. Only now they’d hit me if I didn’t answer right. I think.” His face pinched in confusion.
“Tell them about the second packet of blood,” Andreas said.
“I hadn’t fed since I came. Had the belly cramps. The she-wolf came that last night. Held a packet to my nose, put a drop on my lips. Then she left.”
“I’m sorry.” Ari didn’t know what else to say. She imagined how bad that had been for a starving vampire. “Anything else you remember?”
Gordon frowned, concentrating. “Laughing, joking about me.” Gordon showed the first sign of anger over his captivity. “Something about rats. Some dude named Pavlov. Remembered his name so I could tell someone. If…well, so you could find him.” Gordon heaved a big sigh. “Can I go now?”
“Enough?” Andreas asked, looking at Ari and Ryan. “I don’t think further questioning will be helpful.”
Ari nodded. Gordon had given them plenty to talk about.
Andreas rose, placing a hand on Gordon’s shoulder again. “Friends are waiting to take him home. As soon as they’re on the way, we can discuss this.” He glanced at Ryan but didn’t wait for a response before ushering Gordon out the door.
Ryan had maintained an ominous silence throughout the interview. As soon as the vampires were gone, he leaned back and crossed his arms. “What do you make of his story? Presuming it’s true.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sounds pretty bogus. Polls, music, cabbage, for God’s sake. I wonder if he was deliberately vague. Maybe the vampires have a reason for not wanting us to know what happened.”
“What reason? You walked in here mad at the world, and now this. These conspiracy theories are starting to sound crazy. You think they’re making it up? Sure didn’t look that way to me.” Ari shoved her chair back and stalked around the table. She leaned across it to fire another comment when she felt Andreas walk in behind her.
“Am I interrupting?” he said, looking from one angry face to the other.
“No,” Ari said.
“Yes,” Ryan said.
Andreas’s lips tightened for an instant. He pulled up a chair and sat. “So,” he drawled. “What next, partners?”
Andreas emphasized the final word, and Ari thought Ryan would jump across the table. She choked down a startled laugh at the vampire’s audacity. She wanted to treat it as nothing, diffuse the situation, but knew it was too late for that. Still, she had to try.
“We were talking about what the wolves did to Gordon,” Ari said, returning to her seat.
“Pardon me for contradicting you, Arianna, but I don’t think so.” Andreas’s eyes locked on Ryan. “That was not your last discussion.”
“Andreas, don’t go there,” Ari began, but Ryan interrupted.
“No, he’s right. Let’s get this out on the table.”
“Fine,” she snapped, fed up with both of them. “We don’t have time to squabble among ourselves, but by all means, get it over with.” Ari sat back and put her elbows on the arms of her chair. The testosterone levels in the room were too damn high. If they wanted to fight, she wasn’t getting in the middle.
“Since I’m the one with the problem, I’ll start,” Ryan said. “This story of Gordon’s has holes big enough to drive a tank through. It smells phony. As if you made it up.”
“Interesting.” Andreas was at his most arrogant. “Why would we invent such a tale?”
“To throw us off the track. To cover what’s really going on.”
“Which is what?” Andreas’s brows lowered. “What do you believe is going on?”
Ryan gritted his teeth. “You and Molyneux are hiding something.”
“So,” the vampire leaned forward, “you think I’m conspiring with the Canadians. What gave you that ridiculous notion?”
“Is it so ridiculous? I know and trust everyone who participated in that bungled raid. Except you and your friends. Somebody warned Molyneux’s pack that we were on the way.”
“I agree. They were most certainly warned. But not by me.” Andreas focused on Ryan’s face. “Nor am I working with or for the wolves. And Gordon’s story is his own. Tell me, Lieutenant, if your wild accusations had any truth to them, why would I help Arianna to confirm Rita’s story? And why wait until the last minute to warn the Canadians? After all, I had all night. They could have safely dispersed, taking or disposing of Marcus and Gordon, and you would know nothing. If you want to ignore those discrepancies, prove I did this. And tell me what I would gain.” Andreas’s voice was controlled, but the muscles across his shoulders were strung tight.
“If I had the answers, you’d be safely behind bars.”
“And that is exactly what you want, is it not?” Andreas emphasized the last three words in a voice grown soft and cold.
“I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.”
Ari tensed. If they kept on like this, the joint investigation would be down the tubes and somebody might get hurt.
Andreas placed his forearms on the table and leaned toward the cop. “Is this about me, Lieutenant? Or a bias against vampires? You closed the case from the bar without solving it. It makes no sense that two previously inoffensive vampires turned murderous. But perhaps the truth doesn’t matter when it comes to vampires.”
“Wrong on both counts,” Ryan fired back, leaping to his feet. “I don’t trust you.”
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