“The victims all had their throats slashed. But there’s never any blood at the scene. None. The tox screens we’ve run always come back negative for drugs. They’re not addicts or dealers. The victims have no connection to local law enforcement either, always a favorite target of the cartel. We’ve traced some of the victims to places in Latin America and as far south as Ecuador. A hell of a long way to transport bodies just to dump them. They’re from poor families. If they were carrying anything of value on them, it’s gone by the time we find them. All that’s left is the clothes they’re wearing.”
Max pauses, draws a breath. He hasn’t looked at me since we sat down on the bench. He does now. “I think we’re dealing with a coyote. I think he takes money from these people to get them across the border. Then he kills them and dumps them within sight of the border. Probably lets them know how close they are before he kills them.”
It doesn’t take much of a leap to know what Max is leading up to. “You think this coyote is a vampire.”
“I do. The slash marks are clumsy. Because the bodies are found in Mexico, we haven’t been able to do anything but drug sampling. But I’d be willing to bet if we could do the autopsies here, we’d find something under those slashes.”
He would. When I worked as a Watcher, I used the technique myself. A vampire can erase puncture wounds from a live donor, but not a dead one. Slashing the throat is a way to hide the fact that a body has been sucked dry.
Confirming that Max is right about this and how I know that he’s right is not something I want to share. I already know what he thinks of me. “What do you want from me?”
“There’s a pattern to the killings. We find the bodies on our patrols on Tuesday mornings. Always in roughly the same location.”
“If you know this, you don’t need me. Set a trap.”
“We did. Once. The guy slipped past us as if he were invisible. But not before leaving us another victim. A young girl. You have to realize, Anna, our emphasis is on stopping the drug trade. Not human trafficking. We don’t have the resources to conduct another undercover op. That’s why I’m here. To ask you to come with me tomorrow night. If I’m right, the only way we’re going to stop him is by fighting fire with fire.”
I snort. “You mean vampire with vampire.”
Max’s mouth tightens. “This isn’t a joking matter.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
His expression shifts, softens. “Sorry. I know I’m asking a lot. I don’t know what else to do. If we don’t stop him, he’ll go on killing. He likes it. He’s found an easy food source. And he takes money from victims desperate to make a new life.”
He pauses, draws a breath. “Culebra told me you’re some sort of über -vamp. Well, I need an über -vamp. I can’t think of another way to stop him.”
über -vamp. Yeah. That’s me, all right. Head of the thirteen vampire tribes. Only thing is, except for a few extra abilities, I don’t feel any different than I did before. The only thing that’s changed is that I have another über -vamp, Chael, gunning for me.
I push the thought out of my head. I can probably help Max. I’m stronger than other vamps. The question is, do I want to?
Stupid question. I choose my words carefully.
“I’ll do it. But not for you. I’ll do it because a vamp who acts like this is a rogue, a killer, a threat to all vampires. Sooner or later, what he’s doing will come to the attention of vampire hunters. Then none of us will be safe.”
Max lets his relief show in a tiny gesture of gratitude. He holds out a hand.
I let my feelings show by standing up and taking a step out of reach. The wound is still fresh. “Where shall I meet you?”
He stands, too, lets his hands fall to his sides. “The border crossing at San Ysidro. Tomorrow night. Ten o’clock.”
I nod. Max stares at me a minute, waiting for the ice to melt, I suppose. It doesn’t, and finally, he walks away.
For the first time, I notice.
Max was hurt in Mexico. A broken ankle. He’s not limping anymore.
At least one wound has healed.
CHAPTER 5