Blood Bonds (26 page)

“Thanks, Ken,” Haley said. The man gave a nod and wandered away, turning the hard drive over in his hands, looking like someone had run over his puppy.

“Clothes?” Farley asked again.

“I’ll find you some. I know I have sweats in my locker.” Haley went across to the women’s locker room and retrieved her sweat pants from her supply. She looked at the shirts she had, but all of them were a little too girly. And Farley didn’t need any more culture clash. The PD kept quite a few standard black-Ts with the department’s logo on the front. After all, she wasn’t the only one that got bled on.

Haley found a few in the last cubbyhole next to a stack of white towels. She took one of each and went back into the showers. A moment later, Farley cut the water off and stepped out. He examined himself front and back. The bruises were fading, thanks to the food. Haley handed him the towel.

“Thanks.” He brushed it over his body. “Did you look in the ledger?”

“Not yet.” She held the clothes up. “Found you some clothes though.” He took them and walked back to the sink.

Farley shook out the sweats and put them on. He frowned when he looked at the shirt. “Nothing says ‘snitch’ like a police department logo.”

Haley shrugged. “It was either that or Power Puff girls, and I didn’t think you needed the additional trauma.”

He took it off, turned it inside out, and put it back on. “There. That’s better than nothing, I guess.” He picked up the ledger. “This phone number in the back.” He showed it to her. “You’ll never believe who it belongs to.”

“Who?”

He pulled out the magazine clipping. Haley stared at it for a second. “Justice? As in, The Great White Justice?” As if there was another.

Farley grinned, looking pleased. “Yup, I called it. His Link answered.”

Haley shook her head and glanced over the article. The whole Brother thing came back to her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t the clutch mate Niles had been talking about.

“How old is Justice?”

“Why?” Farley looked over her shoulder, like the answer to his question might be in the article.

“When Niles and I&” She growled. “When we had our run in, he mentioned something about a Brother.”

“Really? ‘Cause as far as I know Niles Fury was the only Kin to climb out of the nest alive.”

She tapped the ledger. “At his age, how would we really know for sure he didn’t have a Brother?”

“Why does it matter?”

“’Cause if Justice is Niles’ Brother, maybe he’ll have some idea why Niles was watching out for me, if he really&” Farley stared with wide haunted eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“There were newspaper clippings on the walls in Niles’ apartment. Some of them went back decades. There were maps too, and letters, and lots of photos.”

“So?”

“The articles were about you. Either they mentioned your name, or it had a quote you said. And the pictures were of you, too.”

Haley pressed her lips together and made a thinking sound. “I’ll call upstairs and get a request for all the calls Niles made in the past six months and see if Justice’s phone number is in them.”

“Only one problem with that. I didn’t see a phone in his apartment.”

“Well, if he had a cell phone on him, it’s either lost or in the ADF storage room.”

Farley snapped his fingers. “What about pay phones? Can you get the records for those?”

Haley nodded. “Sure, I just need a general area to check for service, then call in the numbers assigned to the booths. But where the heck would he find a pay phone?”

“The Dens. The place is about thirty-five years behind the rest of the city on phone service, and I doubt Bell South is real worried about whether or not Kin can reach out and touch someone. I think there were at least two near Niles’ place.”

“I’ll make a call in for those.” She started to turn, but hesitated. “Hey, why haven’t you been reading my thoughts?”

Farley shrugged. “Been trying really hard not to. Besides, after this afternoon I really don’t want to be anywhere I might not be wanted.” He ran a hand over his red brush cut a few times.

Haley put down the ledger and put hand on his chest. “Don’t ever think you’re unwanted.” Warmth spread under her palm and was followed by the thrumming of Farley’s purr.

“All we know is Creyal is sick, but they don’t know what’s causing it.” Haley took a sip from her glass, then stabbed at her shrimp and lobster sauce while Farley worked on his second helping of Mongolian beef.

House of Lin was their favorite place to eat. Not only was it all you could eat, it was all you could eat with your choice of rare or cooked. And Mr. Lin didn’t mind serving Kin, which was nice. He even let them eat indoors.

Farley pilfered a bite from Haley’s plate. “But it’s not contagious to Humans?”

She shook her head. Unlike Farley, she swallowed before trying to talk. “Dr. Meyer doesn’t think so. I got an email from her before we left and she said he’s improving. Apparently the cocktail of antiviral drugs and donor blood is giving his system time to heal the damage. The virus doesn’t stay around very long. It’s like it self-destructs. ‘Denature’ is the word she used.”

Farley held up his hand and flagged down the waitress. She was all smiles and nods when he requested a third plate.

“Next time we go out, let’s hit the arena.” He grinned at her while he slurped in a stray noodle.

“No thanks, I don’t really enjoy chasing my food around before I eat it.” Which was true. Besides, she had better things to do, and with all the raw meat just waiting in the grocery store, it seemed like a complete waste of time.

Farley flicked a hand at her “That’s because you’re domesticated. A house cat eating out of a food dish put down by the Humans. Here kitty, kitty, ki-ti-Ooowe!” She planted the toe of her shoe into his ankle. Farley yelped, “Man, those shoes of yours are deadly.” He rubbed his ankle with one hand and shoved food into his mouth with the other.

Haley glared at him and said, “You’re really rude sometimes.”

“Well, it’s true. You know it’s true. Don’t try and deny it. You’re so Human sometimes you scare me.”

She took her aggressions out on the helpless dead shrimp on her plate. It wasn’t her fault she had appreciation for Human morals, ethics, and hang ups.

Haley’s phone rang.

Farley groaned. “If that’s the Center, please don’t answer it.”

Haley checked her watch. It was almost nine o’clock. Surely no one would be calling her at this hour. She checked the number. “It’s Deshi.”

Farley snorted. “Probably waiting outside your door getting twitchy. Tell him I get top this time.” The people at the next table stopped eating and stared. Haley gave them her best “sorry about that” smile.

She flipped open the phone and put it to her ear. “Hey, we’re out eating. What’s up?”

Silence.

Haley checked her signal. Four bars.

Can you hear me now? You damn well should.

She put the phone back to her ear. “Deshi?”

A breath shuddered over the receiver.

“Deshi ... what’s wrong? Deshi?”

When Deshi spoke, his voice was strained, like he’d been giving his vocal cords a serious workout. “Haley ... I...” His breath blew out in great gasps. “It’s Emily. Oh, God of Man, what have I done?” The wail that followed sent her scrambling. Farley threw three twenties on the table and they took off out the door and raced for the street.

“Deshi? Deshi? What happened?” But she knew what happened. The worst. The most horrible. Deshi had
raged
and Emily was dead.

The phone went silent. When she looked, the screen read disconnected. Haley called back, but it only rang.

I should have never let him leave that day. I should have made him stay. I should have given him no choice.
All the should-haves tumbled relentlessly through her head.

Farley grabbed her arm. “It’s not your fault.”

She shook her head. It was. It was her fault. She’d let him leave. He was in no condition. It was only a matter of time before this happened. She was Female and it was her job to take care of him.

He leaned closer. “No, this is not your fault. Deshi was the stupid one. He made the choice.”

Haley yanked away and waved for a cab. One pulled up and Haley climbed inside. Farley was right behind her.

The cabbie put a hand across the back seat, blocking Farley’s entry. “No Kin. Good cab, no Kin.” The cabbie pointed to Farley. His gaze flicked to the
nevus
on Farley’s arms.

Haley pulled out a fifty from her inside pocket. “Drive.” The cabbie licked his lips and held up two fingers. She pulled out another two twenties, and threw it at him. Farley climbed in and shut the door.

“No mess up my seats.” He poked his finger at Farley, then patted the headrest. “New leather.”

Farley flashed his fangs. “No talkie.” He flapped his fingers at the man. “Drivie!”

Haley put her elbow in his ribs. Farley crossed his arms and looked out the window. She gave the driver another ten and told him the address.

Busy streets turned into quiet private neighborhoods where spacious homes with their rolling green lawns sat under towering oak trees. Ansley Park was the kind of place that screamed old money. All the houses in this part of town were unique. No doubt, they just didn’t make neighborhoods like this anymore.

Deshi’s place was at the bottom of a cul-de-sac, lit by iron lamps dropped right out of a Norman Rockwell painting. They went well with the park benches set deep in the rolling field of winter rye grass as dense as Berber carpet. Of all the houses in Ansley park, Deshi’s, with its English-cottage-meets-Scottish-castle sort of feel, was easily the pick.

The cabbie stopped at the end of the driveway and turned in his seat. “I wait, yes?” He held out his hand looking for another bill.

Haley shook her head and got out. Farley followed.

The cabbie waved at them and patted the steering wheel. “I wait, no problem.”

Farley raised his lips and hissed.

“I go, I go.” The cabbie threw it in reverse and missed Deshi’s mailbox by a hair. The front wheel clipped the curb as he cut the corner too close. Haley cut Farley a look and he shrugged.

“C’mon.” She headed up the cobblestone walk. A small porch light was on in the alcove, but it made more shadows than it offered light. Haley knocked on the door, then rang the doorbell. No one answered.

“Deshi?”

“I’ll check the back.” Farley sank into the darkness.

Haley kept knocking. “Deshi, it’s us. Open the door.” The easiest thing to do would be to break a window. But if he had the alarm system on, the entire Atlanta PD would be here in five minutes. With the way things were going so far this week, they were apt to shoot first and ask questions later.

Haley heard footsteps and peeked through the side window. Farley came across the great room, his expression bleak. He undid the deadbolt and opened the door, and Haley knew immediately why his face was dark. The sweet coppery scent of blood was in the air.

She started to ask how he got in. Farley threw a thumb over his shoulder and said, “Window in the kitchen was open.”

Haley scanned the room. Expensive art hung on the wall in the great room, which opened into the living area, where a flat screen as long as her Mustang sat on a shiny mahogany entertainment system. There was no way you’d find something like that at Wal-Mart.

Under the warm glow of lamp light the flawless wood floor gleamed, framing oriental rugs. The kitchen was equally perfect. All marble and stainless steel.

The sounds of appliances kicking on and off and the tick of the grandfather clock were the only noises. All houses have a natural state of business that one can associate with being lived in. Deshi’s house just felt dead.

“Deshi?” Still nothing.

Farley pointed up.

They headed up the stairs, scenting the air. Farley swung his head back and forth moving like ... well, a dragon. On the third floor the smell was stronger, thicker, with a musky flavor underneath. Half-way down the hall, blood stains covered the wall along with smears of brown. Death is never pretty.

Sometimes people were just so scared they shit themselves.

An intermittent trail of crimson got darker as it neared the bedroom door that was slightly ajar. Arterial spray fanned across the front of the white-washed wood. Emotional terror written in slaps of red. A frantic sort of fight happened here. The kind where the prey knews it was going to die, but refused to quit struggling. Hoping for escape when there is none.

Haley and Farley looked at each other. This was bad. Really bad.

“Deshi?” Farley asked. There was a sound of movement inside the room.

“What’s that smell?” Haley sniffed. For so much blood, there wasn’t very much of that tale-tale buttered chicken smell of Humans. This blood smelled musky, like an old fur rug.

Farley stuck out his hand and pushed the door. It swung wide, revealing a collage of broken furniture, torn sheets, and gutted down pillows. Deshi was curled by the closed bathroom door, completely naked, and covered in tuffs of blond hair, blood, and feathers. His teeth were down, distorting his handsome face. The portable phone lay in his lap painted with a red hand print.

“Deshi?” As Haley moved closer, she kept saying his name with a gentle firmness. When she was a few feet away he raised his head to look at her. Haley’s foot hit apart something that had once been alive under the snowfall of feathers. Emily was dead. Bits of her were on the floor and Haley was stepping on them. An ache started across her chest and seemed to have no end.

Deshi blinked once, twice, and his eyes widened as his face became Human again. He covered his face with his arms and howled the piteous keen he’d made earlier.

She’d failed him.

Farley touched Haley’s arm and held something up to her. She had to wipe the tears out of her eyes so she could see.

The little blue strip, smeared with red, and its shiny bone shaped charm just wouldn’t compute. Farley shook it and it jingled.

“It’s a dog collar. That’s the smell. This isn’t Human blood, at least not all of it.”

A dog. Thank you, God of Man. Another dog. Emily had been spared again.