Wrapping his arm around the vampire’s neck from behind, he drove his fist into the other man’s side. Gurgling a shriek, Gregor whipped around, slamming them both backward into a wall. The breath exploded out of Jack’s lungs, and he wheezed through the pain. He couldn’t match the vampire for strength or speed, so he tightened his grip around the man’s neck. Again and again, Gregor rammed them into the hard wall, until Jack felt it begin to give.
Exhaustion sapped at his strength, and his arms shook with the effort to hold on. Agony flowed in waves up and down his back, sweat sliding down his skin, burning into his eyes. The vampire twisted and bucked hard, and Jack couldn’t maintain his grip. He flipped through the air, covering his head with his arms to protect it. Crashing into the floor, he rolled over and over until he hit the top of the stairs. He grabbed for the rail and caught himself before he could tumble down the steep steps.
Gregor scuttled forward to jump over Jack, but Jack wrapped his hand around the vampire’s ankle and tried to drag him back. Selina’s lightning arced through the air again, blasting Gregor away from the stairs and sending him skidding across the floor. Jack jerked his handcuffs out of their holder on his belt and dove on the vampire, slapping one cuff around the redhead’s wrist and chaining the other to his own. He wasn’t going anywhere without taking Jack with him.
A hiss of frustration exploded from the bloodsucker. The cuffs were bespelled to cut off a Magickal’s power when both were attached to the suspect. At half-power, they just slowed him down a little. Jack would take it.
Wrenching at his wrist, Gregor lifted Jack off his feet, and agony shot down his arm. With his full weight on the shoulder, it was going to give any second. The grinding pop made pain shoot straight to the base of his skull. He gritted his teeth, tensed every muscle, and lunged up to wrap his free hand around Gregor’s wrist and take the pressure off his arm. Drawing back his feet, he slammed them into the vampire’s chest, who stumbled backward. He went down hard, and Jack landed on top of him.
He rammed the butt of his hand into the vampire’s nose, breaking it. Another sharp jab, and Gregor lolled on the floor, unconscious.
As fast as he could, Jack flipped the vampire over and refastened the cuffs to both wrists. His dislocated arm was damn near useless and burned like a brand had been laid to the flesh, but it could be fixed. Jack slumped to the ground, leaning back against Gregor’s prone body. “Everybody okay?”
“I’ll live,” Selina said, picking herself up off the floor with a wince. Peyton grunted and gave her a hand up. His fingers were already starting to heal themselves, and his head looked none the worse for wear, so Jack figured he’d be fine.
“Game over. We win.” More or less.
11
Jack and Selina stepped into the interrogation room. She held a three-inch-thick folder in her hands and let it thunk to the table. Jack had had some quality time with the healer Cavalli kept on hand, so he was fine, thank gods. Selina had healed her own split lip and cleaned up while she let their vampire stew in here for a while. “So. Gregor. Interesting to see you again.”
“Always a pleasure, Detective Grayson. How’ve you been?” He flashed a cheerful smile, despite the blood crusting on his nose and lip. His body had healed itself with the swiftness of his kind, but the evidence of damage would still be there until he washed it away. Bringing him in had been as messy as she’d thought it would be. His clothes were torn and sported claw-sized rips in several places.
Jack settled into a chair silently, letting her run the show. For the moment. She arched an eyebrow, not returning Gregor’s smile. “It’s never a good day when I have to deal with you.”
“Ouch.” He gave an exaggerated wince, as though her words had deeply wounded him.
Yeah, right. If anything fazed Gregor, she had yet to run across it. She tapped her pen against the table, running her gaze over the thick file they had on the man. “You began working for the New Orleans Conclave in 1976, is that correct?”
Forming his mouth into a thoughtful moue, he tilted his head. “I’ve worked for a lot of people over the years. I’m sure they were one of the groups.”
She spun around his vampire registration paper from the All-Magickal Council. “This is your signature, isn’t it? It states that you were turned in 1978 by the leader of the Conclave.”
He shrugged. “It looks like my signature, but these things can be faked. I don’t remember this document offhand, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t sign it. That was decades ago.”
“So you worked for them as a human and they turned you. When did you leave their employ?” And was it before or after the dates of the first murders?
His expression remained bland and pleasant, but his tongue flicked out to lick some of his own blood off his lip. “I worked for them exclusively for ten years before I began to take contracts with other clients.”
Meaning he was there long after the murders, but left before the killings in the second city had occurred. She drew in a deep breath and folded her hands tight to keep them from shaking. She kept her face smooth when she looked at him. “You like to kill people, don’t you, Gregor?”
“I don’t like it.” His eyebrows rose, and he shook his head. “It’s just my job to clean up other people’s messes. Sometimes people get hurt in the process.”
She pinned him with a stare. “Some people might find that immoral.”
“Do you?” His teeth flashed in a white smile.
Shaking her head, she tapped her finger against the file in front of her. “We’re not here to talk about what I think.”
“So? I’m asking anyway.”
“I think murder is illegal. That’s what I think.” Her voice was cold enough to freeze a half-shifted werewolf in his tracks.
The chuckle he gave sounded far too charming. “The difference between murder and justifiable killing can often be as simple as who carries a badge and who doesn’t.”
Ouch, there was a direct hit.
“How did you know Jason Mathison?” Jack spoke for the first time, his blue eyes intent on Gregor.
The vampire shook his head, innocent confusion on his face. “I’ve never even heard that name.”
Innocent, ha. She was surprised he didn’t burst into flames for even attempting the lie. She sat in the chair beside Jack. “We have a witness who saw you standing over his dead body. His drained dead body.”
“I haven’t drained anybody in years.” He smiled like a good little Boy Scout.
Jack ignored that and sat forward. “You returned to Seattle a few weeks ago, didn’t you?”
“I come and go.” Gregor flapped a negligent hand.
“We have a string of murders in Seattle that started two days after you came to town. All of them drained, just like Jason Mathison.” Jack rested one hand on the table. “Why don’t you tell us why you came back to this city?”
The redhead snorted. “It wasn’t to murder anyone.”
“You don’t seem to have a problem killing people, Mr. Night. You said so yourself.” Selina pursed her lips. “Why should we believe you had nothing to do with these?”
His genial smile returned. “Believe what you want, but I didn’t kill your Jason Mathison, or anyone else since I came back to Seattle.”
“In fact”—Jack took up the questioning—“we have a similar string of murders that took place during the time you were in New Orleans. And others in about half a dozen other cities in the last thirty years. We’ve got a lot of bodies just looking for a home, and you seem like a good fit to me, Mr. Night. Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t think so.”