“You think he’s a vampire hunter? Like Buffy? Sam and Dean? Seriously?”
I had it on good authority that there were no vampire hunters in the world. Sure, there were people who were curious about cryptozoology. There was scripted monster hunting that might make for a good half-hour slot on some fake historical or nature channel. But there were no organization of hunters who really believed there were real vampires in the world.
“There is an organization of hunters,” Old Rossi started, and I could only blink several times as my brain did some revisions and carried the dumbfounded. “It has not long been formed. Throughout the years, such organizations come...and go.”
From the slide of his tongue over his upper lip, I could guess how exactly those organizations had disappeared.
“They often die from being ignored. If they are exposed, mockery is their bane. This is not a world that wishes to believe in the things that linger in the shadows.” For that he gave me a lazy half-smile.
Okay. Maybe I liked it better when he didn’t smile.
“So you think...there’s a group of people hunting vampires? Killing vampires like Sven? You think Ryder is a part of that group?”
“It was his blood.”
“He donated blood. To the Red Cross.”
He snorted. “You believe that?”
“I checked the records. It’s on the up-and-up. He donated blood. I think someone used his blood to kill Sven.”
“You think there is someone who wants Ryder blamed for Sven’s death? Who hates him that much?”
“You.”
Old Rossi breathed out hard enough his nostrils flared. “How many times do I have to tell you that if I wanted him dead, I would take a very direct action toward that goal?”
“Would any of your clan want him dead because you don’t trust him?”
“Possibly. But they would not act upon that desire without consulting me.”
“Would you know if someone had done it?”
“What do you mean?”
“How connected are you to the other vampires in the town? Can you read their minds? Can you see through their eyes? Hear through their ears?”
“Didn’t your father ever explain the blood bond of our kind?”
“Not in detail. I know you all have an...awareness of each other. You can read minds. Mortal minds and each other’s minds.”
He waited to see if I was going to add any details to that. “Really? That’s all?”
I shrugged. “We try to respect every creature’s privacy. There’s probably more in the books.”
“Which you haven’t read?” He shook his head.
“Yet. I’ll get to it. It’s been a slightly crappy year.”
He unhooked his hands and rubbed at his temples. “All right.” He hitched one hip on the back of the couch and leaned there. “Vampires mate.”
“I know that.”
He held up one finger for my silence. “Vampires mate. Mates can read each other’s minds, see through each other’s eyes, hear through each other’s ears. Vampires born as blood relations also have this ability with their genetic relation—so sisters or brothers, fathers or mothers.”
I didn’t tell him I understood the meaning of the word “relation.” He was talking. That’s what I needed.
“In general, we can communicate thought-to-thought, but seeing and hearing via another of our kind is not easily done. Sometimes lovers can make that connection. As the prime vampire, I can force a connection to any I accept as my family.”
“So you all have telepathy, but the sight and audio is more specific.”
“Yes.”
“Is it influenced by distance?”
“No. Although Ordinary has an amplification effect on those abilities.”
Interesting. I’d have to go back to that little tidbit later.
“So you’d know where any of your clan is, even if they’re outside Ordinary?”
“Of course.”
“Did you know Sven wasn’t in Ordinary when he was killed?”
He was silent. Still.
“No.”
“He was killed, then dragged to the shed out by Joe Boy’s.”
“And how do you know this?”
“Bertie.”
“And how does a Valkyrie know where he was killed?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he seemed to realize what he had said.
“Exactly. Valkyrie. Good with time of death. Especially for the warrior type. So I’m guessing Sven didn’t go down without a fight. Is there anyone who was connected to him? Anyone who could have felt his death? Seen or heard his attacker?”
He tipped his head and stared at the middle distance as if he were silently reciting a list. Maybe he had turned on the prime brain-to-brain phone line and was asking that question to the clan.
“Etta. They were close. She might have felt something. Do you want me to talk to her?”
“I’d like to talk to her.”
“I’ll call for her.”
“Don’t summon her on my account. I know where her house is.”
He already had his cell phone out of his pocket, his thumbs tapping over the screen. “I’m not summoning. Vampires don’t summon. We text.”
He tucked the phone back in his pocket. “She’ll be right over.”
It was clear he didn’t want me talking to her unless he was present. “What are you worried I’ll do to her? You know I’ll be nice.”
“I’m not concerned about how well you’ll behave, Delaney. But Etta is not taking Sven’s death nearly as gracefully as I.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Good. Handle yourself here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to address the business I left in my living room.”
He glided out the door and I followed behind him. “I thought you’d stay behind.”
“I thought you knew me better.”
He stopped so quickly, I almost ran into him.
“He dumped you, remember? There was a gun involved.”
“He didn’t shoot me and this isn’t about dating. It’s about you keeping your promise not to handle this murder investigation. It’s about your promise not to grill Ryder for answers. It’s about your promise to let me do my job, not lock me away in a room like I’m the fragile shell.”
“You really should come to my meditation classes. You carry all your stress in your...” he gave me a thorough up-down glance, “...everything.”
“Say, Mr. Rossi.” Ryder chose that moment to step out of the living room, meeting us in the hall. “I got a call and have a couple things I need to take care of. But I’ve...uh...drawn up the rough estimate for what we talked about. If you have any other questions, give me a ring. I always have my phone on me.”
Rossi took the paperwork Ryder offered in the very smart binder that had his business logo embossed on the front. “I’ll be sure to find you soon,” Rossi threatened.
“I’ll be by this afternoon.” Mr. Monroy obviously was going for friendly, but something about his hard brown eyes almost made it sound like a warning. “I think your business is ready to take off, Mr. Rossi, and I can guarantee you I’m the man who can offer you a myriad of possible plans to go forward.”
“This afternoon?” Rossi raised his eyebrow and gave him a sort of half-baked smile.
So he was playing the stoner hippy with the guy. Interesting.