Shifty Magic (20 page)

"Cooper, no!" I pulled my knife from my boot
and sprinted towards them. "You can't kill her!"

Wild eyes gone completely wolf drilled into
mine and a low, warning growl bristled from deep in his chest. I
grabbed a handful of his hair in my fist and pressed the blade of
my knife to his throat. A drop of his blood slid along the edge.
"Stop," I ordered.

The choice between killing Marla or going
after me ricocheted around in the feral depths of his eyes.

"Stand. Down," I ordered. I tightened my
grip on his hair and tugged his head back, exposing more of his
throat. "I will kill you if I have to." And in that moment, I meant
it.

His nostrils flared and his gaze gripped
mine, making my heart pound and my stomach twist. Then sanity
seeped in around the edges of his eyes. The wolf in them softened
and suddenly his humanity flooded in. He let go of Marla's neck and
she started coughing.

"You wouldn't," he said, his voice still
rough with the taint of the hunt.

I released his hair and stepped back. "I'd
rather neither one of us find out."

Cooper lowered his chin and stared up at me
a moment longer, hunger and anger heating his gaze. A chill skated
down my back. "Get off of her," I said. "If you hadn't freaked out,
you'd see that she's been drugged."

He twisted the knife out of her fist and
stood up. Coughing fitfully, Marla rolled away from him and curled
in on herself. "She attacked you," he said.

"I was handling it."

"She murdered at least three people."

"Including your kin, I know. But her eyes
are solid black, just like the vamp that attacked me at Morrocroft.
I don't think she's in control of herself."

Cooper pushed to his feet. "Drugs?"

I shrugged.

"I'll kill you," muttered Marla. She rolled
over and looked up, her pupils swallowing all the color in her
eyes. Their bottomless shadows spewed hatred as she looked from one
to the other of us. "You took him away from me. I caught you. Saw
you with him on that alter." She crawled into a crouch and her gaze
nailed onto me.

"Watch it," Cooper said, moving to
intercept.

I shook my head as I switched my knife to my
left hand. "She's incoherent and so are you. Back off."

"He's mine," Marla snarled, her
coffee-colored skin darkening with a flush of emotion as her
features twisted into a hideous parody of beauty. "None of you can
have him. Not that witch. Not anyone!"

"Did you kill them, Marla?" I asked, bracing
my legs under me as she gathered herself to spring.

"You're dead," she spat. "You'll all pay!"
She jumped toward me, hands reaching for my face like claws.

I stepped aside, slamming the base of my
right palm into her jaw and delivering a quick, hard strike. The
vibration of the blow rolled up my forearm and it went numb;
nothing compared to breaking a few fingers from using a closed
fist.

The hit snapped back her head and her body
followed, landing Marla on her butt on the hard gym floor. She
crashed onto her back, dazed from the blow, but still conscious.
"That's weird," I said, rebalancing my stance in case she came at
me again. "She should be out cold."

"Like she should have been after I tackled
her?" Cooper commented.

He knelt down. Rolling her onto her side, he
produced a wide pink ribbon from one of his pockets. I wondered
where in the community center he'd found it. Marla gave only
half-hearted resistance as he pulled her hands behind her back and
secured her wrists with the ribbon. She wasn't unconscious, but at
least I'd knocked some of the fight out of her.

"It's over now," Cooper said.

I shook the feeling back into my arm and
tried to ignore the nagging suspicion that we were missing
something.

"I hope so," I said. And I meant it.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Watching the crew scour the murder scene made for
an unsettling déjà vu experience. No wires to cut this time, no
spooky smoke roaming around, but other than that, the process was
the same.

Not long before, Marla had been bundled off,
strapped to a gurney while she sobbed hysterically. Cooper stood to
the side of the gym talking quietly with his team, his face a stiff
mask of barely controlled emotion. Lingering in the back of the
room beside one of the candle stands, I struggled to control the
stinging pain around my heart at seeing another life wasted.

When the lights were brought up, we
discovered the same circle of symbols around the alter and the
white powder mark a few feet away. A walk around the parameter of
the gym had also revealed a second, smaller containment circle, but
I seemed to be the only one who found that to be strange. As far as
the FBI was concerned, the pattern matched the other murders, and
all that remained was to gather evidence to present in court when
Marla went to trial.

In my mind, the most alarming aspect was
when Agent Miller pointed out that the thin triangle symbol on the
wall was probably a representation of a vampire's fang, which meant
the star symbol was probably for practitioners.

The fact that Marla had now killed a Were
didn't sit well with me. After the blood of three powerful
paranormals was spilled, what had she planned? Did it have to do
with the ancient god? Had we stopped her in time?

I snapped out of my dark thoughts when
Cooper broke away from the group and stalked across the gym in my
direction. "Walk with me," he said in a low voice. He turned toward
the doors that opened into the hallway, and I fell into step beside
him.

"Initial tests show venom in her blood
stream," he said as we moved out into the hall, "but not your usual
flavor. It's been altered by mixing it with a small amount of vamp
blood and infusing a little magic. It's called VR on the street and
it's rare, expensive, and dangerous. We may have caught more than
just a murderer."

"Is that why you first came to
Charlotte?"

He gave me a quick glance as we headed for a
small room that opened off the main hall. A colorful, beaded
curtain hung from the open doorway to shield the entrance and give
privacy. Inside was an old love seat and a small table cluttered
with candles, rocks, a few scattered animal bones and a goblet.
Blue and turquoise pillows were piled in one corner.

I stayed by the door, sensing a mood in
Cooper that I didn't recognize. Tension sat across his shoulders as
he walked over to the table and flicked the pile of bones with his
forefinger. "With Marla in jail, our part in this case will wrap up
in the next few days. I want you—" He took a deep breath. "I'd
appreciate it if you'd consider working with me to track down
whoever's making and distributing the VR."

He picked up a candle, looked at it and put
it back. If this was anyone but Cooper, I'd say he was nervous.

"This is broader than a delusional user out
for revenge," he continued. "Laiyla was working on the same problem
for the covens when she was in New York and had continued to pursue
it here."

"You think the vamp murders are part of
it?"

He nodded and turned around. "Will you
consider staying with...the department?"

"Can I trust you?" I asked. "You wanted to
kill me earlier."

Emotions flared deep in his eyes, feelings I
didn't even know how to name. "If I had, you'd be dead."

"If you'd tried, I wouldn't be the only
one."

His fiery gaze held steady, and I thought
for a moment that he was trying to tell me something. Then his
shoulders relaxed and that quirky smile that was uniquely Cooper's
tugged at his mouth. "At least we know what we're getting in each
other as partners."

"If I accept your offer, I want full
transparency. No pulling 'the FBI has secrets' card, no dodging
when I want answers."

He hesitated, but then nodded.

"Prove it," I said, crossing my arms over my
chest.

"Addison—" he warned.

"Let me in on Marla's interrogation
tonight."

His eyes narrowed. "I don't think—"

"Professionally equal or forget it. That's
the deal."

"Fine." Pushing past me, he stalked out of
the room.

I watched him go, unsettled by the hurt
radiating off of him. I frowned, feeling that I'd missed
something...some kind of important opportunity that might not come
again. Shaking off the unaccountable sensation of loss, I told
myself I should feel triumphant.

The convenient way we'd caught Marla had
nagged at me more and more the longer I'd thought about it. Getting
in on the interrogation would give me the perfect chance to find
out why.

As for imagining Cooper had any interest in
me beyond professional, I could only conclude that my long day was
finally getting to me. He was a grown man, probably three times my
age when it came right down to it. He wasn't pining away from
sentimental longings of any kind. Certainly not for me.

The sense of loss intensified, but I ignored
it. I was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them.
Especially where Cooper was concerned.

* * *

The interrogation room I walked into with Cooper was just
like the ones I'd seen on TV when I was a kid—beat-up Formica
table, three uncomfortable looking chairs, two-way glass on one
wall. The only changes were the kind of technology law enforcement
used. And the re-enforced, magically enhanced silver-steel cage
built into the ceiling, walls, door and glass.

The irony of being back where I'd started
that morning wasn't lost on me. I estimated it was about one in the
morning, nearly seventeen hours later, and I felt the strain and
fatigue like a dead weight on my shoulders. I hoped I could stay
sharp enough to make the most out of the interview before any
court-appointed lawyers showed up.

Cooper was back to his usual all-business
self as he placed his iC on the table, touched it to start the
recording and gestured for me to take a seat beside him. Across
from us, Marla huddled in her chair, handcuffed and looking liked
hell. Dark circles smudged her coffee-and-cream cheeks beneath
troubled eyes, puffy from crying. She slouched over the table like
the weight of the world was on her, which I'd say was an accurate
assessment.

She was charged with four counts of murder,
and when word got out about it, all the major paranormal factions
would want their revenge. But despite all of that, the sharp pain
clouding her eyes told me that what bothered her the most was the
fact that her fiancé lay in the morgue. It made me wonder even more
if she was really our killer.

With slow deliberation, Cooper slid the
evidence bag with the dagger toward her. Sean's dried blood still
coated the blade. "Tell us what happened, Marla."

I glanced at him, surprised at the gentle
tone of his voice. Anger radiated out from him like a raging storm,
I could feel it. In fact, with his connection to the latest victim,
I was surprised the agency was letting him question the suspect at
all. Unless he hadn't told them. Why he'd do that, I could only
guess, so I turned my focus back to Marla. She stared at the knife
like she'd never seen it before, her eyes wide.

"I...I don't know." She looked from me to
Cooper. "My friend told me that Sean was getting off early and
wanted to meet, that he had a romantic surprise for me. She gave me
the address and I went."

"And?" Cooper prompted when her voice slid
into silence.

"It was at the Athena coven's meeting house.
The door was unlocked like she said it would be. I went inside. It
was dark." She looked back at the knife. "That's all I remember,"
she whispered, misery clouding her features.

Cooper leaned back in his chair. "If you
want our help, you have to tell us the truth."

I braced my arms on the table. "What friend?
Kathy?"

A flicker of surprise passed over her
face.

"Witnesses reported that you and Sean left
the club together," Cooper said, his voice still surprisingly
calm.

"No," Marla answered, shaking her head. "I
wasn't there. The other bartender, Ax, he knows. I always sit in
the same place while Sean works. He saves it for me. I wasn't
there."

"He claims Sean said he wasn't feeling well
and left early. That you offered to take him home," Cooper
said.

Agitation tightened her shoulders. "No,
that's not right. Sean was supposed to meet me."

From the way he had his
fist clenched on his thigh, I could tell that Cooper didn't believe
her, but my intuition had kicked up like a runaway chainsaw.
Something didn't feel right about any of this. Marla had secrets, I
was sure of that. I just wasn't convinced that she was lying
about
this
. "Why
did you pretend to be the distraught woman in love that day I
interviewed you after your sponsor was killed?"

"I...thought Sean might have done it."

"And how do you know Kathy?" I asked.

Her gaze shifted away from me, and then
back. "I don't."

"Tell me how you know her," I pressed,
leaning toward her across the table. "Do you want to go to prison
for the rest of your life, or worse?"

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"This isn't a game," I said sternly. "You're
accused of murdering paranormals. Do you know how that goes down in
real life? Humans murdering paranormals?"

She gave a choked sob. Wrapping her arms
around her upper body, she hugged herself and seemed to shrink
further into the chair.

"We like to pretend we're civilized and all
get along, but dig below the surface and that isn't how it is," I
continued. "They don't give a rat's tail about human laws. They
have their own code, Marla. And unsanctioned killing is
unforgivable. Do you understand?"