“Captain?” a man called from a third car, a radio in his hand. “They match the descriptions of the two geneticists from Global Genetics. They’re wanted for questioning in a murder, sir.”
Trisk’s eyes shot to Pelhan’s, her first flush of fear settling in for a long stay. “We didn’t kill Rick. One of my colleagues, Dr. Trenton Kalamack, killed him to cover up that he was the one who allowed Daniel’s virus to attach itself to my tomato. He’s here. Somewhere. Please. We’re trying to stop this. If I could just talk to Sa’han Ulbrine. I need to get to Detroit.”
At that, the captain seemed to come back to himself. “Detroit is gone,” he said as he put his hand on her head and all but pushed her into the car.
“Gone!” Inside the car, she stared up at him, quickly putting her leg outside so he couldn’t shut the door. “What do you mean, gone? Like no communication?”
Pelhan bodily put her foot back in the car, warning her with a frown to leave it there. “No, gone, as in wiped off the face of the earth, taking everyone with it. It was the vamps and the witches, and we’re by God not going to let that happen here.”
And with that, he shut the door.
25
The police station smelled like angry dog and spicy redwood. Overlaying it was the musky scent she’d always identified with vampires, and Trisk’s nose wrinkled as the officer holding her elbow escorted her deeper into the facility. It was busy with cops and a few harried secretaries in trim uniforms who never saw the street, and she wondered whether she was smelling her fellow Inderlanders so strongly because there were no human scents to mask them, or if they were just really stressed.
“Captain Pelhan!” one of the officers hailed as he caught sight of them coming in, his short red hair making him stand out. His arm was in a sling, and the metal charm around his neck disguised as a St. Christopher medallion made her think he was a witch. Telling the kid at his desk to stay put, the officer stood, grabbed a folder, and wove through the open offices toward them.
“Thanks, Randy.” Wrinkles in his forehead bunching, Captain Pelhan slowed as he took the papers, but he didn’t stop. “I’ll sign these later.”
“Uh, sir?” the officer added to make Pelhan’s eyes crinkle, and the tired man rocked to a halt, his narrow shoulders slumping. “I’ve got a kid at my desk I don’t know what to do with. He says he’s a minor, but he won’t tell me his name because he’s more afraid of his mom than us.”
Together, Trisk and Pelhan looked around Officer Randy. Trisk’s eyebrows rose. The kid looked too tall to be a minor, but his face was baby smooth as he slumped in the stiff-looking chair, his head lolled to make his red dreadlocks hang down his back. She’d never seen hair like that, but it kind of went with his orange bell-bottoms, yellow shirt, and rope sandals. Witch, she thought, seeing the plethora of wooden charms around his neck disguised as beads.
Pelhan winced, running a quick hand over his short graying hair. “Please tell me he’s dressed like that for Halloween.”
Officer Randy grinned. “Nope. He says he’s part of a band, which checks out since there’s a bass guitar and drum set in his van. We’re running the plates to find out who he is, but it’s from Ohio, and . . .”
“Everything is down,” Pelhan finished for him as the kid pantomimed playing a guitar. The scent of redwood grew, and Pelhan rubbed his forehead in defeat. “We can’t put him downstairs with the vamps. Cuff him to a table in the break room.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wait.” Pelhan eyed Trisk dryly, the wrinkles at his eyes deepening. “Cuff Dr. Cambri in the break room. I’ll talk to the bass player right now.”
“Yes, sir.” Officer Randy took her arm, and Trisk stiffened.
“Now, wait a minute—” she began to protest, her anger cutting off when a young man dressed in a powder-blue suit and wide tie spilled into the lobby, his long blond hair flying everywhere as he waved a knife as long as her arm.
“Where is he!” the man shouted, his eyes pupil black as he flipped a desk over and stood in its place, papers scattering and the typewriter hitting the floor with a dull thud and ting of its bell. “Let him go, or I’ll rip this place apart looking for him!”
“Oh God. We’ve got another one going ape,” someone said, and then the room seemed to shift all at once as six uniformed men launched themselves at him.
The man with the knife bellowed, brandishing it as if it were a sword. His lips curled back from his teeth to show his slightly larger canines. He was a living vampire, and he was totally freaked out as he flung the attacking officers off him.