Raven Mask (9 page)

Like most of the other vampires in the room, he was incredibly pale. My skin was almost as light as the vampires’, but human and lycanthrope skin doesn’t take on that luminous paleness.

“Futhark,” Lenorre said, “you may stand.”

The vampire rose. Futhark? Was that his name? I wasn’t oblivious to the Norse path. In fact, I’d studied the Futhark runes, once upon a time, but a vampire named Futhark? He was tall, about six-five. Guiding the long silky tresses behind his shoulders, he looked at me with incredibly blue eyes, but they were not true blue. Specks of chestnut brown ringed his pupils. He was slim, with a slim face, his cheekbones high enough to make his eyes seem deeper and give him a wise, thoughtful expression. Suddenly, the name suited him. He was named after the old Germanic alphabet. He dipped his head in greeting, and I returned the gesture.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said. By the way he carried himself, I was betting he was an older vamp. He moved with casual grace, as if it was second nature. He seemed mild-mannered and candid, qualities I hadn’t seen much of among the vampires. His aura of intelligence and power continued to scream, “Older.”

“Kassandra.” Lenorre’s voice wasn’t exactly empty, but it had taken on a polite, almost political edge. “I would like to introduce you to Futhark. He is one of the Primes in this city.”

Futhark actually bowed to me.

“Prime?” I asked.

“Yes.” He looked a little confused.

“My apologies, Futhark,” I said as politely as I could. “I’m a little ignorant of vampire society.”

“There is no need to apologize. You are wondering what the title means?”

I nodded.

He looked at Lenorre again. “I can see why you like her, my lady. She has a sense of honesty and forwardness you do not often see.”

Oh, yeah, he was an old vampire. I’d bet my ass on that one.

He swept his arms out in front of him. “A Prime vampire,” he explained, “is a stronger vampire within the vampire community. We are older and offer our loyalty to the Count or Countess of a territory.”

“You seem old enough to have your own clan,” I said.

Futhark nodded. “I am powerful enough to become a Count if I did so choose. It is not a burden I wish to carry.”

“Thank you, Futhark.”

He gave a slight bow. “You are most welcome. My lady Countess has always had impeccable judgment. Any friend or ally of hers is a friend and ally of mine.”

I didn’t really know what to say. I felt like I was suddenly stuck in some type of old court. Which, in a sense, I guess I was. Vampire court. Whoohoo.

“Countess.” A woman’s voice rose from the group of vampires, and the speaker stepped forward, her sable hair gleaming where it fell past her shoulders. “Might I ask why you have called us into council?”

“You may.” Lenorre looked at the vampire, her voice now empty. “One of our kind has murdered a boy. I want those of you assembled to be on the lookout. Gather what information you can. Either a traitor is among us or a stray is in town.”

“Very well,” the woman said, smiling. Her gaze shifted to mine, and the breath caught in my throat at its intensity. Her sea-green eyes were unflinching as she stepped toward me. “Is this your new pet? I have heard a little about you.” She watched me intently, as if memorizing my every expression. I resisted the urge to squirm. I wasn’t a child, and I wasn’t human. I refused to let the big bad vampire scare me or make me uncomfortable.

“Kassandra is no pet,” Lenorre said, and although she looked calm, I could feel the tension in her body where it touched mine.

“Kassandra,” the vampire said, as if tasting my name on her tongue. “A lovely name for such a lovely young woman.”

“Eris,” Lenorre said.

She looked at me, and something in the way she did so made me think Lenorre wasn’t the only vampire with a taste for women.

Eris turned her full attention back to Lenorre. “Countess.” She lowered her head, though unlike Futhark, she didn’t fall into a bow or curtsy. “You have done well for yourself.” Her sea-green gaze met mine again and the tension between us was like a cord being pulled tight. I didn’t like it.

There were less than thirty vampires in the room, and not all of them introduced themselves as Futhark had. As I watched from my seat beside Lenorre, I remembered Stanley, a vampire I’d met during my first visit to the club. It was hard to miss his eyes, which were as blue as any Siamese cat’s. It was equally difficult to miss the labret piercing beneath his lower lip. I’d thought he was a younger vampire, but apparently I was mistaken. He stood in one corner of the room, wearing a knee-length velvet jacket the color of a green apple with a pair of tight black pants. I watched his slight nod in profile, the chin-length black hair swaying as he listened to a gothic-looking doll-like woman I didn’t recognize. As if he sensed my gaze, he turned, offering a wink.

Lenorre advised them to find out what they could and report back to her. The vampires were taking their leave when I caught Eris staring at me. I was standing with Lenorre, waiting to leave, when she visually dissected me as if I stood naked in front of her. I fought my own discomfort and forced myself to look away, sensing the wolf’s agitation at my refusal to rise to the challenge. But I knew better than to take on a vampire in Lenorre’s club just because she was staring at me.

I sensed more than saw Eris turn her attention back to Isabella. Isabella was the girlfriend of a guy named Trevor, and I had met them both at Lenorre’s when I was working my last case. Isabella lived in Lenorre’s house, but I hadn’t known she was one of the older vampires, though I remembered seeing her wearing a frilly, old-fashioned nightgown. That should’ve hinted at her age, but the first time I’d met her she’d worn a miniskirt.

Once the room was near empty, we left. Zaphara sat in the backseat as I drove back to Lenorre’s. On the way home, she even managed to keep her mouth shut. I was tempted to swing by a gas station and buy her a damn cookie.

Chapter Twelve

I had just stepped into the house when the cell phone rang from my back pocket. Zaphara hadn’t said a word to me as she left the room, and for that, I was thankful. I answered on the third ring. It was Arthur.

“Talk to me,” I said.

“Dirty or—”

“Arthur, just tell me why you’re calling me at almost one in the morning. Did a medical examiner take a look at the body?” How the hell did he get any sleep? He seemed to be up most hours of the night, though he usually didn’t phone unless it was something important. That thought worried me.

“She didn’t get the chance.” Arthur was talking in a low voice, as if he didn’t want to be overheard.

“What do you mean she didn’t get the chance?”

“The body went missing.”

Distantly, I heard Rosalin coming down the stairs. I turned my back on both Lenorre and Rosalin and walked into the parlor.

“When?” I asked.

“No one can calculate the exact time of the body’s disappearance. We’re not sure if it went missing before or after it got to the morgue. We do know that it happened somewhere between eleven and one yesterday morning.”

That made sense. They were still trying to wrap things up when I’d left the crime scene.

“Where was the ME?” I asked.

“On break. She didn’t get the chance to look at the body. We’re thinking they snatched it then, when it had just arrived.”

“Which means it was never even signed in? Have you questioned the carriers?” My mind was racing.

“Yes. The two of them don’t remember anything. When we asked them what time they got to the morgue, they couldn’t even recall arriving there or that they had a body to transport.”

“Shit.”

“You’re telling me. Kass, I need to ask you a question and I want you to answer honestly.”

“If you plan to accuse me or anyone I know, I will fucking hang up on you.”

“I won’t accuse you or your girlfriend. I know you didn’t do it. You’re probably too busy doing one another.” He chuckled.

I shook my head again. “Get to the point, Kingfisher. What?”

“You said you were pretty sure it was a vampire bite.”

“Yeah…” Where was he going with this? A thought came to mind. “You’re going to ask me if I think he was turned?”

“Damn, you’re good. How’d you guess?”

“Is that sarcasm I hear?”

“Maybe,” he said lightly. “Do you think he was turned?”

“I honestly don’t know how to tell.”

“The only way is to have an experienced witch or vampire look at the body,” Lenorre said from behind me and I jumped, only a little startled. “A turning does not leave any physical evidence.”

“What does it leave?” I asked her while Arthur coughed in my ear.

“A change in the aura. You would have been able to sense it, but you keep your shields drawn too tightly.” I believed her. I shield like a son of a bitch to keep a lot of things from getting through them.

“How long does it take for a vampire to rise?”

“It depends on the strength of the vampire that turned him. It drains both participants.” She didn’t bother to conceal the thoughtful expression that furrowed her brows. “Only an older vampire has enough power, or energy, if you wish, to sire a subaltern. If the vampire that sired the lesser is strong enough, the youngling would have risen by nightfall this evening. The longest period of time it would take is four days.”

“Are you hearing this?” I asked Arthur.

“Some of it. It’s all vampire-speak to me. What does she mean?”

“It means, if the vampire that sired Timothy is strong enough, he’d have risen tonight.”

“Fuck. We’re in deep shit. Not only will Holbrook rip me a new one, but the boy’s parents will tear into me if they find out their son is an evil, undead minion.”

“Being an evil, undead minion isn’t illegal in America, Arthur. His parents can’t do shit unless they’ve hired someone to stake the body and signed a consensual release. Did they? Did anyone tell them it might’ve been a vampire attack?”

“No, and no,” he said a little more lightly. “We withheld that information. The parents believe it was a cult.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Kass, I don’t like them either. The dad’s okay, but the boy’s mother is a fucking right-wing lunatic. What am I supposed to tell them? In the end, we have to say something. You remember how it goes.”

“Arthur, I know, but we’re still not certain. The only way we can be certain is to find Timothy’s stolen body, dead or undead. If he consented to being turned, you can’t do anything.”

“Except tell his parents. Kass, he’s only sixteen! I’ve had to tell parents their child was murdered, but never that their child was turned into one of the walking dead.”

“Arthur, he’s not a zombie. He’s not the walking dead. If he’s a vampire, then he’s undead.” Why didn’t more cops have preternatural training? No offense to Arthur, but they were simply clueless most of the time. Oh, wait, I’d be out a job if all of them had the training I did. Scratch that thought.

“Can the parents press charges?”

“On you or the vamps?”

“Both.”

I sighed. “Here’s the deal. If Timothy consented to being turned, then no, no one can press charges. In Oklahoma the age of consent is sixteen. That’s applicable to vampire turnings. If Timothy was taken against his will and protests, then he can press charges against the offender. The parents cannot take action against the department. So take a deep breath, pop a Valium, and relax. We’ll figure this out.”

“I wish I had a Valium.”

“Welcome to the joys of being a detective, Kingfisher.”

“I heard Holbrook offered you the position once. You turned it down. Why?”

I sat on the couch with a sigh. After I was infected with lycanthropy, when I told Captain Holbrook I was leaving, he offered me the position of detective if I agreed to stay. I couldn’t. The pay was a little higher, but the hours were erratic and unstable. It was also a heavy burden I wasn’t willing to carry, werewolf or no. I didn’t know how Arthur had heard. Maybe he’d spoken to Holbrook. That was the only thing I could think of, because no one at the department knew.

“I didn’t want that much responsibility.”

I heard his heavy sigh. Being a detective was really beginning to take its toll on him. If he didn’t take it easy, he’d crash and burn. As much as he sometimes irritated me, he was a good guy, and a good cop.

“Arthur, you need to get some sleep. You’re not any good to the department exhausted and sleep-deprived. Go home and get a good night’s rest. I’ll do what I can. Lenorre’s got her vampires looking into it. If I hear anything, I’ll call your cell phone. You’ll fold under this much stress if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“You should’ve taken the promotion.” His words were empty, his usual jesting tone gone. Arthur always made jokes. He always saw the bright side of any situation. If he didn’t see a bright side, he’d light a match and make one. He was always eager about working a new case, solving a crime. He enjoyed his job, even with the horrors he saw. This level of seriousness worried me.

“Arthur, you’re a good person and a good detective. You were the one meant to be a detective, not me. That’s not my path in life. It never was. I knew that. That’s why I turned down the promotion. Even now, you’re sacrificing your well-being to make the world a better place.”