Hunter's Blood Special Edition (Cursed by Blood Saga) (23 page)

Lily sniffed.
Something amazing.
Right.
Her world had gone way past amazing, rocketing straight through to
surreal. Only problem was, Terry had gotten caught in the crossfire.

She looked at the cordless phone in
its base next to her cell phone. The messages blinked, almost disapprovingly,
as she sat with her memories. With a sigh, she pushed herself up from the bed.

“Shower first, messages later,” she
said, and reached to unzip her bag for her toiletries.

Once showered, she toweled off, and
feeling human again, slipped into a pair of fleece pajamas. It was barely seven
p.m., but it was pitch black out, and the glow from the streetlights cast
shadows around her room. The aroma of fresh-made coffee and buttered toast
filled the air, and her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten a thing since before
they had left the Compound.

Running a wide-toothed comb through
her hair, she wound it into a knot at the top of her head and stuck a couple of
wooden pins through to hold it in place. She jammed her feet into a pair of
shearling slippers and padded out into the kitchen.

“That smells amazing,” she said,
peeking over Jack’s shoulder at the eggs sizzling in the pan.

“Huevos Rancheros. One of my many
specialties.”

Lily inhaled appreciatively. “If Sean
had told me you could cook, I wouldn’t have complained as much as I did about
you tagging along as my babysitter.”

Jack shot her a look. “Babysitter?”

“Isn’t that why Sean sent you? To keep
an eye on me? Keep me out of trouble?”

Jack turned off the burner and pushed
the frying pan to the back of the stove. “Lily, do you honestly think anyone at
the compound thinks you need a keeper? Sean? Mitch? Me?”

Lily didn’t answer, she just grabbed a
mug from the drain board and filled it with coffee. Taking a sip, she held the
warm ceramic in her hands and stared Jack over the rim.

“Answer me, because I’d honestly like
to know. Especially since I’m the one who volunteered for this.”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I know Sean
loves me, but sometimes I think he sees me as some sort of fragile possession.
He’s never going to relax and let me be me, at least not until I become a full
Were. But I meant what I said. I have no intention of letting that happen, for
anyone or any reason. At least not right now. So where does that leave me? I
don’t need a shadow, Jack. I have a life to live, work to do. And while I refuse
to be a pawn, I also won’t let Sean’s worry over my fragile human state get in
the way either. I’m not that fragile. Like you said, I don’t need a keeper.”

“Okay, I get it. But why don’t you try
thinking of it like this? In our world, Sean is tantamount to being the
President or a Prime Minister.”

“So what does that make me, First
Lady?”

“Yes. Like it or not, it does.”

“And I suppose that makes you, what,
my secret service detail?”

Jack flashed an entirely wolfish grin.
“Exactly. But with a few enhanced abilities.”

Lily burst out laughing, spilling hot
coffee over her hand. “Ow, Jeez...see what you made me do?”

“Hair of the dog, baby…hair of the
dog.”

Lily snorted, drying her hand on a
dishtowel.

“So…do we have a truce, then?” Jack
asked, refilling her coffee cup.

Lily took a sip from her mug.
Regardless of how much she complained, she didn’t have much choice in the
matter. Sean would never let her be here on her own. Not until he was certain
she was safe.

Tapping the side of her mug, she
pursed her lips. “I suppose. But if we’re going with this silly analogy, you
gotta promise me, no nicknames. No talking into your wristwatch saying stupid
stuff like ‘the sparrow has flown’ or anything like that.”

“Sparrow? More like Harpy Eagle with
extra sharp claws.”

“I’m serious, Jack!” she said, and
flicked him with the dishtowel. “I want this to be as normal as possible.”

“Okay, okay…I promise. Can we eat
now?”

“Sure, but I’m keeping this locked and
loaded just in case,” she said, winding up the damp dishtowel again.

Her cell phone rang in the bedroom.
“Be right back,” she said over her shoulder. “Dishes are in the middle
cabinet.”

Lily rushed down the hall, but the
call had already gone to voicemail. She punched in her retrieval code,
expecting Sean’s voice on the other end. It wasn’t.

Lily—

It’s Mark Phillips. We have a case
that needs your particular set of talents. I’d rather not get into it over the
phone, so if you can meet downtown tomorrow at ten, it would really help me
out. Give me a call if that time doesn’t work for you. Hope to see you then.

She pushed end on her touch screen and
smiled to herself. It looked like she still had a business after all.

***

“You really didn’t have to come with
me, you know. I’ve got this covered,” Lily said, as she and Jack crossed the
street in front of One Police Plaza.

“I know you do, but Sean wants me
close…just in case.”

“In case of what? Do you honestly
think Edward Parr or one of his flunkies managed to infiltrate the NYPD in the
last month? Come on, Jack, police headquarters has at least two levels of
security before anyone even gets into the building. After that, there are other
buffers. I’ll be as safe as kittens, to use Sean’s words.”

The two stepped up onto the curb just
outside the main grounds. Even frozen and covered with ice, Tony Rosenthal’s
5
in 1
sculpture and the surrounding garden was striking in its eclectic
beauty.

“Wow. You’d never guess this was a
police station,” Jack said, looking around.

“It’s not a station, Jack. It’s the
hub of New York’s finest.” Lily glanced at the main entrance and then back at
Jack. “Hey, do me a favor, go get a cup of coffee or take a walk around. Play
tourist. I’m not sure how long I’ll be, and I don’t want you skulking around
waiting.”

Jack crossed his arms in front of his
chest.

Obstinacy was as much a Were trait as
the need to race the moon. But Jack’s perspective wasn’t quite as one-sided as
Sean’s, and Lily hoped that would make him a little more reasonable. There was
no winning this argument, and loitering around was the quickest way to draw the
wrong attention, and the last thing either of them needed was a stint in the
slammer.

He exhaled, blowing a stream of wet,
warm smoke into the air. “Go ahead. I’m going to take a walk around Battery
Park, sniff the grass and whatnot. You have my cell number. Just give me a buzz
when you’re done or if you change locations. I need to be close, but at this
point, there’s no reason for me to be on top of you,” he said with a suggestive
wink.

Lily raised one eyebrow, hoping he was
just joking. “All-righty then. I’ll call you when I’m done.” She hiked her bag
over her shoulder and headed down the heavily salted pathway toward the main
doors. She didn’t turn around, she knew Jack watched and mentally counted the
days until the next full moon.

She passed through a series of metal
detectors and officers searched her bag at each location before she reached the
lobby. A pretty blonde in a pert, navy suit sat at the reception desk. It was
clear she was administrative and not a member of the force.

“May I help you,” she asked with a
bright smile.

“Yes. I’m Lily Saburi. I have a ten
o'clock appointment with Chief Phillips.”

“Certainly. One moment please.”

The woman picked up the phone, and
Lily guessed it was yet another buffer. Something was up, she’d felt it the
moment she’d walked into the building, and knew it was more than just the
day-to-day stress of dealing with New York’s criminal element.

The woman hung up and smiled again,
handing Lily a building pass. “Go ahead on up. Seventh floor. They’re waiting
for you.”

It had been a while since she’d been
at police headquarters, and the lobby was just as busy as she remembered.
Visitors to One Police Plaza often expected something resembling the set from
NYPD Blue or CSI New York. Fact was the building functioned not only as
headquarters for one of the largest police departments in the country, but also
the polished face of the NYPD. The people who walked its halls possessed the
same hard edges screenwriters try to give their actors, but here those characteristics
were hard earned. The grit may have been spit-polished till it shined, but it
was still there underneath.

As she got into the elevator, the
underlying unease she’d noticed at security ratcheted up a notch. She knew the
feeling wasn’t hers, and as the elevator climbed, the uneasiness grew until it
practically jumped out at her when the doors slid open on the seventh floor.

She stumbled out of the elevator and
dropped her purse, the sense of foreboding gripping her full force.

An overweight man in an ugly brown
suit looked up from behind half-moon glasses, as he sat at his desk off to the
side of the elevators. “May I help you?”

People milling around turned in her
direction, and three sets of eyes, each one more quizzical than the last,
inspected Lily as she steadied herself. “Yes,” she said, straightening her
jacket. She bent to retrieve her purse. “I’m here to see Chief Phillips. He’s
expecting me.”

The man checked her I.D. and her
building pass, then hefted himself out of his seat. “This way, please.”

He led her down the corridor to an
office in the back, sweating and red-faced from the exertion. He knocked on the
door, and a muffled, “come in” echoed from the other side of the door.

“He’s all yours.”

“Thank you,” Lily said, watching him
trundle back to his desk.

She’d worked many cases for the Chief
of Detectives, but had never actually been to his office. So why the invitation
now? Her guess, the brass had insisted on it. They wanted to see her to pull
something out of her hat.

Without hesitation, she turned the
knob and opened the door. The room was large, with black leather and chrome
furniture, and a wall of frameless glass windows overlooking the grounds.

Besides the Chief of Detectives, there
were two other men in the room. Talk about home court advantage. She took a
deep breath and steeled herself. Bring on the rabbits, baby.

“Lily. Good. Glad you could make it,”
Mark Phillips said, coming around the end of his desk to take her hand. “It’s
good to see you. I hope you got my note about Terry…I’m so sorry.”

She shook his hand. “Yes…thanks. It’s
good to see you too, Mark.” The minute her fingers clasped his, she knew his
words were genuine, and she gave his hand a little squeeze. “So, what’s so
important you couldn’t bring me up to speed on the phone?”

“Please, sit down. Let me introduce
you to Detective Sergeant, Michael Shaw and Detective Ryan Martinez. They’ll be
working closely with you on this case, should you choose to take it.”

Lily nodded to each. “Pleased to meet
you.”

Phillips leaned on the front edge of
his desk and exhaled. “I’m not really sure where to begin.” He gestured
futilely. “We’ve had three separate, multiple homicides in the past month.
That’s a lot, even for a city this size. But what’s worse, each one a veritable
bloodbath. The first took place about a month ago near the Roosevelt Island
Bridge, the next, in Hell’s Kitchen a couple of weeks later, and the latest
down on Ninth Avenue in the East Village. All less than savory locations, if
you know what I mean. We’re really up against it this time Lily…”

“What Chief Phillips means, is we are
at a dead end.” Detective Sergeant Shaw interrupted. “In each case, we found
only D.O.A.s, and the crime scenes didn’t provide much in terms of leads or
evidence.”

Lily didn’t miss the look that passed
between Shaw and Martinez. Shaw was a skeptic, and probably had balked at the
idea of having to work with her. Well, what else was new?

That one look told her both detectives
had more up their sleeves than they were willing to share. It was
rabbit-pulling time, and her magic hat was primed and ready.

She leaned back and crossed her legs,
her elbows on either arm of the chair, and her fingers laced together in front.
Detectives were specialized, trained in the art of interpreting body language
and reading between the lines. Lily wanted it clear, if unspoken, that she had
nothing to fear and nothing to hide.

“One doesn’t need to be a profiler,
gentlemen, to see there’s more here than meets the eye. You’ve gathered hard
facts about this difficult case, and as Chief Phillips has explained, you are
to be commended. You’re seasoned veterans, and doubtful about me, and what I
can bring to the case. That’s understandable. What I do can’t always be
quantified. I, myself, don’t always understand how I know what I know.”

Lily paused, waiting for someone to
interject, but no one said a word. The hostility coming from Shaw was palpable,
and her earlier suspicions ratcheted up a notch. The man wasn’t just skeptical
he would derail her entire role in this case if he got the chance.