“Is there something wrong, Lady Gisila?” Tetiana asked as she glanced from Gisila to Tutu’s.
“No, not at all. I’m out here at the request of my sister.” Gisila motioned to the sign that spelled out in golden letters Tutu’s Crypta & Custodia. “Tutu is my sister.”
“Did Tutu ask you to check on the building?” I asked. “Was some kind of alarm triggered?”
“No,” Gisila said. “Nothing of the sort. There was just some…concern.”
“Oh, because of Orrin?” Grove asked. “Don’t worry about it—he’s secured. The force has Tutu’s contact info, so we can call her back for you and reassure her!”
I eyed Grove—his comment might seem innocent, but he was a fae—the trickiest of supernaturals—so he had to have known his words were practically a threat that we’d check in with Tutu to see if Gisila’s story checked out.
Does he also think she could be involved? I’d shared my suspicions with Sarge and Captain Reese, but neither seemed sold on the idea that Gisila had been involved with Orrin’s monster-releasing-activities.
Gisila shook her head, making her silky curtain of purple hair bounce over her shoulders. “Oh, no, Tutu is very certain of her businesses’ safeguards. It is merely that since it was my assistant who terrorized Goldstein Street, I feel that I owe it to my sister to check upon her business since I remain within the city.”
I’m so sure you’re doing this for her sake. Glad my mask hid my face, I frowned.
“I suppose my actions are unnecessary,” Gisila continued, her beautiful smile back on. “As Magiford has the brave task force out on patrol, keeping things safe.”
“Yes,” I said. “We make it a point to frequently patrol this street.”
Gisila laughed. “How perfect. Tutu will be very glad to hear that, I’m sure.”
A car cruised down the street rolling to a stop at the curb directly next to us.
“Ah—my driver is here,” Gisila said. “I shall be on my way. Have a delightful evening!” She waved, then opened the passenger door and slid in.
The car’s interior lights turned on briefly lighting up the “driver.” He was a werewolf—had to be between his vivid blue eyes and his excessive muscles upon muscles that popped through his beige t-shirt.
Gisila nodded back to us, then pulled the car door shut. The driver revved the engine before pulling back onto the dead street and driving away.
“If that werewolf was just a driver, then I’m a vegetarian,” Tetiana declared, her voice flat.
“Yeah, he looked more like a bodyguard.” Grove rocked back and forth from the tips of his toes to his heels.
“Did she have a driver before?” I asked.
Tetiana narrowed her eyes as she peered up at the sky. “I don’t think so? I’m pretty sure Orrin made all arrangements for her transportation.”
“A muscled werewolf who looks like a tank is kind of a weird choice to replace Orrin as a personal assistant, don’t you think?” Grove asked.
“Yes.” I checked my gun, secured in my shoulder holster—my senses were starting to prickle, which made me uneasy. “We should make note of it in our reports.”
Tetiana started to nod until she glanced at me. “Is something wrong?”
My vampire senses kicked in, cluing me into the presence of another vampire in the area “I’m not picking up on anything solid, but it feels like there’s another vampire around.”
Tetiana’s frown sharpened. “Well, at least it can’t be Ruin. He doesn’t hang around these parts.”
“I don’t,” a smooth, caramelly voice said from the shadows.
My senses ignited, as Ruin—the vampire who had claimed the downtown area as his territory and had meted out justice however he saw fit, the vampire who I had discovered was actually Considine Maledictus, one of the oldest vampires alive and awake—stepped into the halo of light cast by a streetlight. “But I followed your procession on a lark, and here we are.”
CHAPTER
FOUR
Considine
“Hello, Slayer.” I put a smile—which Jade couldn’t see compliments of my enchanted hood—into my voice and was rewarded when the vampire slayer stiffened.
Jade minutely shifted, taking one step forward that was just enough to place herself between me and her squadmates. “What do you want?” Her hand, I noticed, lingering near her gun.
“That’s hardly the greeting I expected,” I said. “After we defeated that fae snake together—fighting back-to-back?”
“I was—and continue to be thankful for your help,” Jade said, her voice guarded. “But as you have attacked me more than you have helped me, I will continue to be careful in your presence.”
I tilted my head, listening to the beat of her heart—not that it helped me much. Slayers usually trained to keep their heartbeat even and after I’d realized Jade O’Neil was the task force slayer, I’d investigated the O’Neils as a slayer family and discovered they were considered elites in North America.
Regardless, she seems a touch more… defensive than before. How very odd.
“I see.” I folded my arms across my chest, then looked up and down the street.
“You’re not going to even pretend to be hurt?” The fae with the bag of sketchy potions asked, his expression more thoughtful than I ever liked seeing on a fae face.
“No,” I said. “If she wasn’t still guarded, I’d be disappointed in her.”
Jade—unreadable with her slayer mask in place—didn’t react.
Had she figured out I was her neighbor? No, she hadn’t been any different during our daytime interactions when I pretended to be Connor, even as she had avoided the downtown area while working at night.
Most likely she’s realized my night alias is older than she initially thought and is increasing her guard as a response.
I didn’t think she saw me turn into a bat—that power I’d managed to keep hidden for a good century or two. But it was possible she’d noticed some other detail that hinted I was older than the Curia Cloisters estimated. She was a slayer, after all.
Regardless, that won’t matter. She probably thinks I’m five centuries now instead of a measly one. That still isn’t dangerous enough for the task force to escalate the situation.
It was fine to poke the Department of Supernatural Law Enforcement if they didn’t take the matter to the Regional Committee of Magic where Killian would hear of it.
“So, you followed us from downtown when we followed the werewolves,” Jade said, her work voice so steely it was no wonder I hadn’t recognized the slayer in comparison to her much warmer—if awkward—daytime way of speaking. “Why?”
“Tonight was the first time you’ve ventured downtown since we fought together,” I said. “But I am a professional. I won’t get in the way of your work.”
“You only get in the way of my work,” Jade flatly said. “You’ve attacked me in the middle of an investigation!”
“That was the old me,” I said. “Before we bonded over the dead snake. I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m more thoughtful.”
Jade made a scoffing noise that said she didn’t believe me—her distrust making the whole thing even funnier than it was before.