Touch of Evil (24 page)

She shook her head. "And there was something wrong with that bite, too—something bad wrong. The arm was all swollen up and bruised. And there was foam on her mouth. But she'd been bit. That's for sure. I know the marks of the evil ones." She lowered her voice even further, until I could barely hear her. "They're everywhere, you know. That queen they've got now, she's got her fingers in all the pies. Not like it used to be. Mmm-hmm."

"Do you . . . " I saw movement from the corner of my eye, and waited until a street person, his shopping cart full of his life's belongings, shambled by us. His hair was a dirty mat of brown.

"Morning, Martha," he said with a leering grin at the black woman. Two lower teeth were missing. She made kissing motions in his direction.

"Morning, Billy. You get any money on your corner today, you come see me, hear?"

He chuckled and licked his lips. I smothered my initial reaction. It was her life, her choices. Martha turned her attention back to me once he was past.

"You were saying?"

I cleared my throat. "Do you have any idea where the other girl went?"

Martha nodded. "She called a friend. He came and picked her up in a cab. Real nice looking fella, too. I've seen him before. He was in one of those sexy calendars, for the firemen. They sold them down at the 7-11. Mmm-hmm—he's a fine one, honey!"

My breath stilled. Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe not. There were eleven other firemen in that calendar. But how many ride in a cab?

"Thanks, Martha." I rose, but then stopped. I should at least ask. "You want anything for your time? I've kept you from a customer."

She raised her hand and flipped it dismissively.

"Old Billy? Nah. He never has any money left after his bottle." Her eyes stared at me with intensity.

"No, honey, you just go and keep that girl safe. You keep the evil ones away from her. She's a nice girl. She didn't belong on the street—and she don't need to wind up dead."

I nodded and turned toward my truck. I needed to go back to the house. I hoped Tom was there, because I needed to talk to him. A brief glance toward Martha's bench showed that she wasn't alone. A tall black man had just sat down and rested his arm on the bench back. He was smiling at her and tracing a slow line down her arm. She raised her hand and waved at me as I got in the truck. I waved back, feeling a little strange for just leaving her there. Her life, her choices. I drove back to LoDo, trying to think of what to say. "Gee, Tom, been hanging around Colfax lately picking up young girls?" "Have any firemen friends who date sixteen-year-olds?"

I had misgivings about looking for Dusty. Jake could be right. I could be leading the enemy right to her. But Dylan had begged me to help her—and he believed that she needed my help. I didn't trust the stepfather, so I believed Dylan. Of course, I'd believed Dylan in the past, and look where that got me. And now Dylan was a Thrall Host, so any hope of trusting him was out the window. Plans within plans—who was bullshitting who in all of this?

There were no easy answers: no way of knowing what was the right thing to do. If I dropped it, and the girl was killed or worse, I'd never forgive myself. If I didn't drop it, and she wound up dead or turned, I'd blame myself. Damn it.

I started to turn the truck into the parking garage, which is a real trick with one arm and no power steering. I stopped short, because a sedan was parked right up to the gate. There was no driver in the car, which ticked me off. It seems to run in streaks that someone will think that any place off the road is a great parking spot, and then I have to get them towed. It's worse during baseball season, because the stadium is only a few blocks over. I try not to be really mean about it. I just have the tow company pull them off into a street spot and then boot the car so that they have to go to the tow company to pay for the tow. Some of the other building owners call the cops. They have the car towed all the way to the impound lot. The owner won't know where it is until they call to put in a police report that it's been stolen. Then they have to pay for an illegal parking ticket and the tow. I parked at the corner in front of the fire hydrant, which would earn me a ticket if I didn't reach the tow company before the cops spotted it. I could probably talk my way out of the ticket, but I'd have to go to court and show them a picture of the car blocking my garage, and my truck next to it. Then I'd have to get the tow company logs and my phone bill showing the times matched. I've done it, but it was a royal pain.

I'd just started to walk around the back of the car to add the license plate number to the make and model I'd written on the back of an envelope, when two things happened simultaneously: The hive roared to life in my head, causing a blinding pain right behind my eyes, and I heard Tom shout a warning.

"Kate, look out!"

Instinct took over. I dropped to the sidewalk and rolled toward the building with every ounce of my strength, ignoring the screaming in my shoulder. It was just in time. A Thrall Host sailed over me with a flying kick that would have hit me squarely in the head. He landed on the car and rolled over the trunk. It's just not fair when vampires can do martial arts. We poor humans should have some

advantage. I quickly got to my feet and scanned the area.

Not good.

Four Hosts converging from different directions, and they all looked pretty young and athletic. Two were coming from across the street, one was next to my truck on the right and the kicker was sliding behind the car on my left. I saw movement from almost behind me and risked a quick glance before I moved, since I'd heard Tom's voice from that direction. Sure enough, two white boxes were lying on the floor of the parking garage by the elevator. Silverware and kitchen canisters were scattered across the cement. He lifted the garage gate up a few feet with sheer brute strength and rolled underneath it to wind up beside me. There was a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he faced the Hosts closing in on us.

Mortal enemies. I wondered what that meant in the real world. "This isn't your battle, Tom. It's me they want." I said it quietly, as we both moved into better position to fight.

He never took his eyes off the opponents as he spoke. "Yeah? Well, they'll have to come through me to get you."

Truthfully, I was glad to have someone fighting with me. Four of them was a bit much and I was hardly in tip-top shape. Monica wasn't kidding around anymore. My head felt like it should have a wide crack down the center from the level of pain, and my arm was throbbing. Anything I was going to do would have to be quick and dirty. I wouldn't be able to fight for long.

Never one for defense, I burst forward in a run toward the nearest vamp, the one by my truck. He was a male with a runner's build. The attack, combined with a very cleansing primal scream, took him off guard. He was even more surprised when I ran squarely into him, past the punch he tried to throw. I'd planned for the collision, so I was better prepared. We slammed into Edna, and I heard a satisfying thud as his skull hit the solid steel mirror brace.

I grabbed his left arm and got a firm grip on his belt buckle as he fell backward off balance. I lifted him off his feet and all of my upper body strength went into slamming him face first into the building, just like a whomping big alarm clock. It didn't even hurt—adrenaline is an amazing thing. They should really bottle it.

Fortunately for me, supernatural strength does not give you supernatural mass, and a brick wall is an immovable object not to be messed with. He dropped to the ground and stayed there. I could see that both fangs, along with a couple of regular teeth, had snapped off at the gum line.

A second later, the shoulder reminded me of its existence, and it was not happy. The pain nearly took my breath away, but I tried not to let it show. The other three Hosts couldn't quite grasp what was happening quickly enough, and Tom was able to step inside his female vampire, throw a straight finger punch to her throat at the same time as he blasted a kick squarely through the side of her knee. She crumpled to the ground with both hands around her neck, which was emitting a strange gurgling sound.

Now we were down to two. But predators

aren't stupid, and Hosts have the whole Thrall group mind behind their actions. They took one look at their fallen comrades, saw that we were both standing and moving toward them and did the smart thing—they took off running down the street. They almost ran into a police car making regular rounds. The cops saw bodies on the ground and made the logical assumption. The officer in the passenger side took off after the runners before the car even came to a stop. He didn't catch them. It was the second time the police had been to my place in two days. I didn't lie to them about what I knew or didn't know, but I did bend the truth into little salted pretzels. After explaining about the attempted break-in and a quick call to the dispatch, they decided they weren't terribly surprised to be returning. I was betting that Connie would be able to identify the female vamp as the "junkie" from yesterday. The police took away the Hosts without issuing us any warnings, which was nice. They did tell me that I'd have to get the car towed myself, because they couldn't say it belonged to one of the muggers, which is how they defined them. That part sucked big slimy river rocks. At least they pasted a parking pass on Edna until the sedan could be removed.

Tom went back inside while I took care of the details. When I was done with the police and the tow company had removed the sedan, I parked Edna and went inside. It felt sort of strange to knock on the door of 2B, because I was so used to coming and going. Now there was this invisible barrier of propriety there.

He answered on the first knock and held the door wide so I could come in. As I walked past him into the apartment I could suddenly smell that amazing cologne again. It reminded me of the feeling of his hands on my skin. When he closed the door behind me, I jumped. I was suddenly nervous, and not just about Dusty or about Monica.

He must have found another truck to help him move, because the whole place was set up except for a few stray boxes here and there.

"Wow, you're quick! I like what you've done with the place." Talking helped distract the butterflies inside, but I wasn't lying. I did like the furnishings. They were distinctly male. The couch was upholstered in chocolate leather with accents of pecan wood. The tables were in the same pecan, with strong, clean lines and a solid feel. Color was splashed here and there—a bright burgundy pillow, a fringed throw with ducks in green and russet. All in all, it was very similar to my own style; earthy, solid.

"Thanks. It helps to have a nice place to put the stuff first." He'd moved up behind me as I was looking around. My heart quickened. I felt his hand touch my shoulder and I flinched. He pulled back as if burned. I turned to see him, and was

embarrassed that he looked annoyed, bordering on angry.

"Tom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—I guess I'm still a bit flinchy. I really appreciate your help out there."

"Gee, I can't imagine why you'd be flinchy." His sarcastic tone masked barely contained fury and it made me search his face for answers. I didn't find any.

"Um, what's up with you? I said I was sorry." He stared at me open-mouthed and then shook his head and blinked. "What's wrong with me?

Good Lord, Kate! What in the hell is wrong with you? You got hit with a brick just before I met you, ruined your shoulder doing God knows what, got your back clawed to ribbons and just were attacked by vampires!" He threw up his hands and fell backward into an overstuffed chair. "So far, I think I've been pretty nice not to ask any personal questions about why, but if you've got some sort of sustained death wish that could get me killed too, I think I ought to know the details."

I blushed, because he was right. He'd been

remarkably tolerant and hadn't asked any stupid questions. I had thought it was a nice change from other people I knew.

But then again—the best defense is a good offense. Why hadn't he asked any stupid questions?

Any other normal person would have grilled me until I spilled at dinner after the brick incident. It's not a terribly common event. I hated to be so suspicious, but I haven't been having much luck with people playing fair lately.

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned

against the nearest wall. "Fine. You want details?

How about this—the queen vampire is trying to capture a young girl named Becky, who goes by Dusty. I'm trying to stop her. They don't want me to. End of story."

He shook his head and laughed bitterly. "Oh, that is such bullshit. This has nothing to do with the girl." I raised my eyebrows. "So, you do know something, huh? Where is she, Tom?"

I saw his back stiffen. His anger was replaced with frustration. I could tell from his body language there was something else going on. I pulled the two photos from my back pocket and held them out to him.

"Go ahead. Look at the face of the girl who's going to get killed if I don't find her." He stood up without meeting my eyes, and without looking at the photos, and entered the kitchen. It's in the same location as my apartment. All the better to string the plumbing together.

Something occurred to me just then, when he wouldn't look at the photos. Maybe he really didn't need to. Maybe this has nothing to do with me, and I'm just a bit player.

I walked to the kitchen doorway and leaned on my good shoulder. He wouldn't meet my eyes. He pulled an apple from a basket on the counter and bit into it almost violently.

"You know, I was about to say that you have no idea how insistent Monica can be, Tom. But maybe you do. There are a lot more Thrall than

lycanthropes right now. How do I know the

vampires weren't after you? "

He looked at me, but just smiled tightly and shook his head. "You don't have a clue what's going on here, Kate. You're not a detective, and you don't know the players. Don't you realized you're being lied to?" His made his voice sound concerned, but there was a hint of tension to the way he held that gorgeous body.