Hold on. A good minute passed, then another, then another. I was just about to ask Maggie what I was holding on for when she finally said, See that lady right there?
A middle-aged woman with an ask-to-see-the-manager haircut and dye job entered my field of vision, walking across the parking lot and getting into her Prius parked underneath a tree on the far end of the strip mall. “I see her.”
That woman just came out of the clinic. Her nametag says S. Montgomery. That bag she’s carrying has two pints of blood in it. I’m pretty sure it’s against protocol to take those home at the end of the day.
I took my hand away from its scratching duties, eliciting a soft meow from Eddie, and snapped a couple of photos of the lady and her car with my camera phone. “Well, that’s definitely not Michael. But it could be an accomplice.” I looked down, struck with a thought. “Hey, Eddie, what do you know about Michael Pavlovich. Eddie?”
Soft snores answered me. I poked him gently. He didn’t budge.
“Real helpful,” I muttered. I checked the clock – it was just after seven in the evening – and wiped the sweat from my brow as S. Montgomery pulled out of her parking spot and headed toward the road. I waited a few moments, letting her get into traffic, before following at a distance.
I really don’t like that I can’t sense Eddie, Maggie whispered. Or that he can hear me.
I glanced down at him. I could hear his snoring above the sound of the truck. I whispered back mentally, I guess we have a cat now.
Careful with that. Like he said before, he’s not a pet. He’s a sphinx. Very intelligent.
Very catlike, I shot back.
Don’t let that trick you. I’ve only ever seen sphinxes at a distance, but I’ve read that they can be terrifying.
He seems a bit … small to be terrifying? Does he have magical powers or something?
They were the heralds of Sekhmet for a reason. But hell if I know what he’s actually capable of.
Plowing through four cans of tuna a day, apparently. I can’t afford that shit. I don’t even spend that much money on my own food when I’m not using the company credit card. I glanced down at Eddie once more, sighed, and turned my attention back to our quarry.
S. Montgomery had plenty of errands to run. We went to the grocery store, pharmacy, Chick-fil-A, and then finally to a little subdivision in Westlake. I watched her pull into the driveway of a little house with a neatly mown lawn and nice flower bed, then parked myself somewhat down the road from it. She unloaded her groceries, carrying them inside.
“What now?” I asked aloud.
Nothing exciting about her, Maggie reported. As far as I can tell, she’s a complete civilian. No connection with the Other.
Which meant that we might have misread the entire thing. “Well, that’s a day wasted.” I wrote down the address in my notebook just in case.
Maybe not, Maggie said. She’s coming back out. And the blood is still in her car.
S. Montgomery returned to her car and, to my surprise, backed out of the driveway. I slid down in my seat, pulling my hat down over my face as she drove by. Once she’d gone, I turned around and followed. “Okay. Guess we’ll see where this goes.”
She led me back toward Cleveland, pulling off at the same exit as the zoo and driving up into an older neighborhood filled with those ancient three-story homes that have long since gone to shit. It was not the kind of neighborhood where I would expect to find a middle-aged white woman in a Prius. She pulled up in front of one of the houses, walked up to the door, and left a bag on the front step without knocking.
That’s the blood she stole from the center, Maggie told me. And that house definitely has wards. Lots of them, some I don’t even recognize.
That was very odd. I let S. Montgomery depart without following and watched the house for well over an hour. It got dark and no lights came on in the house. Neighbors were starting to eyeball me, so I wrote down the address and headed home. On the way, I called Jacques.
The dhampir answered after a single ring. “What do you have for me today?”
“Not a lot. Been taking it slow like you said. I did go by Boris’s house yesterday and met one of his thralls.”
There was a moment of silence. “You just walked up to a vampire’s lair without permission?”
“Yes?”
I could practically feel Jacques raising an eyebrow at me. “That was either very stupid or very brave.”
“No security. Nothing interesting going on. His thrall was kind of a putz.” When Jacques didn’t respond, I continued, “I’m certain that Michael is still alive. I’m also fairly certain that while Boris is a shitty master, he isn’t actually breaking the Rules.”
Jacques made a hmm sound. “I’ll be the one to determine that. Did you take pictures of his compound?”
“Should I have?”
“I did ask you to gather information about him.”
I honestly felt a little stupid. “Right. Well if I end up back there, I’ll be sure to do so.”
“You probably won’t get another chance. Once Boris finds out you snooped around, he’ll be very angry. Watch your back.”
“He’s my client,” I said flatly.
“Boris is unpredictable,” Jacques responded firmly. “I’m warning you for your own safety. Whatever lack of evidence you have of his crimes, he is dangerous, and he does break the Rules. Continue your task. Continue your reports.” Jacques hung up.
I considered this for a few minutes as I drove down the darkened highway. Finally, I asked Maggie, “Does he sound super annoyed that I haven’t discovered evidence of Boris breaking the Rules?”
A bit, yeah. But I guess that’s understandable. He’s pretty convinced that Boris is a liability, and he’s probably paying Ada a lot of money to dig up some dirt.
“Man, I don’t want to get involved in a vampire spat.”
Seems a bit late for that.
“No kidding. Something isn’t right with this whole thing. Jacques is still holding back information. I’m basically being ordered to dick around. I still have no idea what Jacques has on Ada to get us to double-cross a client. All I’ve got is that place our S. Montgomery dropped off the blood and a borderline-hoarder vampire that our client wants to prove is guilty of … something.” I zoned out, letting my subconscious work on these puzzles while I drove with one hand, “The Weight” by the Band playing softly on the radio and Eddie snoring on the bench next to me.
I got off the highway in Wickliffe, hoping that Nadine had checked my mail for the last week and left anything important on my desk. As we neared the office, I could feel my head begin to nod with exhaustion. Even with the nap this afternoon and orders to stretch things out, I had slept even less than normal. I didn’t think this would be a problem until I felt a distinct sting on my left hand, pain lancing up my arm through the bones and jerking me awake.
“Maggie, what was that for?”
She cut me off as I turned into the office parking lot. Wake up, troll boy. Boris is waiting for you, and he’s really fucking pissed.
Chapter 7
It was after ten at night, but the Valkyrie parking was still lit by a dozen overhead lights. There were two cars present as I pulled in. One was the familiar Crown Vic with Security written down the side that belonged to our rent-a-cop, Ted. Ted raised an eyebrow to me, glancing significantly toward the Camry parked over in the corner. Boris leaned against the Camry, wearing a scowl. I sighed and waved Ted off, throwing my truck in park and stepping out with a word of greeting on my lips as Boris flicked his cigarette away and approached.