King of Darkness (15 page)

He paused to study Lee, who held his stance and said nothing. Then Siddoh gestured to the papers on the desk. “This? Demographic research. I’ve been thinking we could start branching out to patrolling not just the residential areas of our kind but also some of the high-crime human areas where the wizards are likely to pick up their incubators. Not only might we be able to take down more of them that way, but if we keep ’em from reproducing, we keep their numbers down. The glasses? I like ’em. They make me look smart, so fuck you.”

“Gonna take a lot more than glasses for that, bro,” Lee grumbled.

Siddoh jabbed the glasses in Lee’s general direction. “You need to lighten up, my man. Now listen. I’m thinking we can use Tyra’s social-service connections to get a better handle on young women coming up missing and young boys disappearing that might actually be wizard offspr—”

“We’re keeping Tyra out of this. I already told her that after tonight I want her out of rotation for awhile. We had a wizard hit when she was picking us up in Orlando. It’s not safe for her to be outside the estate until we know how they tracked her.”

Siddoh held up a hand. “Cut the bullshit, Lee. She’s a good fighter. She can handle herself.” He tossed the glasses onto the desk and leaned back. “That female’s got more power in her little finger than you and I have combined.”

“I’d think you would care more about making sure she stays safe.”

“I do care. I’m just not concerned.”

Lee growled again. “She’s not invincible, Siddoh. You’re telling me things have been too quiet. Maybe that means they’re planning something. They tracked her to Orlando, which most likely means they traced her teleport. They might even be gunning for her specifically. You can’t sit there and tell me that’s safe.”

Siddoh gave him a mock grimace that smacked of you-must-be-joking. “What I’m telling you is that she knows the risks and she wants to take down these bastards just as much as the rest of us, so why not use her? This is a good idea, and you know it.”

Lee did know it; he hated it just the same. If wizards had gotten wind of Tyra’s multiple powers and were after her, it would be bad news. The smug SOB was right, though. She was a good fighter. She could handle herself. “Fine,” he grumbled on a heavy exhale. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“Great. So here we go.” Siddoh replaced the ridiculous glasses on his face and pulled a large map of the area from below the heap of papers in front of him. He gestured, using a pen as a pointer. “We know they tend to reproduce by jacking druggies, runaways, hookers, and the like, and the resulting offspring usually wind up going into the foster system and eventually disappear.

“So in the past we’ve figured, ‘Well, no one gives a damn about them, and that’s why they’re difficult to trace,’ but what if…” He stabbed the pen into the air towards Lee. “
If
they have someone in place in the child welfare system, or worse, multiple someones, maybe even in the police force or whatever. Maybe that’s how they’re slipping under the radar.”

Lee weighed Siddoh’s words. “I’m not sure I’m buying it. We’ve considered similar theories in the past but they’ve never panned out.”

“
But
,” Siddoh said, stabbing his pen into the air again, “I think things are different now. Check this out.” He circled an area on the map. “Over here is where Xander had a run-in with a group of newbies. No big deal, except that these guys actually knew how to fight. We’re talking serious hand-to-hand skills. That’s unusual.”

Lee nodded. It was more common for the wizards to rely on whatever straws they’d drawn in the vampire lottery, a plan with varying degrees of effectiveness. The wizards depended on stealth to avoid security patrols, and they were strictly cash and carry when it came to the civilians. Fighting skills had never seemed as high on their to-do list as their ability to grab and go. “Our guys have martial-arts training; Xander still should have been able to take ’em.”

“Well, he did, but not easily. I’m guessing our guys have gotten a little lazy and the wizards are stepping up their efforts so they managed to catch us with our pants down, so to speak. And Xander’s been distracted for months now. Since the funeral. I’ve had a few talks with him about it.”

“Gotcha. What else?”

Siddoh circled another area on the map. “So over here is where the folks get their drugs and where we’ve seen a lot of human women disappear from in the past, and over this way,” he said circling a third spot, “is a low-income neighborhood where we’ve seen a lot of adolescent boys disappear from, presumably from families who take on foster children. Some of the families may do so for the sole purpose of gathering more income, or they might even be in cahoots with the wizards in some way.” He sat back and allowed Lee to survey the map. “So. You see what we have in the middle of that triangle?”

Well, shit. “Tyra’s shelter.”

Siddoh nodded, grimmer this time. “So she’s already perfectly positioned. I want us to see if she can do some daytime recon, maybe even look into child welfare—”

Daytime. “No fucking way. Let’s say your theory is right and they’ve got some wizard masquerading as a social worker out there, and they’re better organized with better skills. You wanna send Tyra out there during the day with no backup? You’re out of your mind.”

“We’ve been over this. She can handle it.”

“Worst case happens and she can’t,
no
one
will be able to get to her. Everyone needs backup once in awhile.”

“Even you, Lee?”

Lee didn’t dignify the question with a response.

Siddoh’s pen jabbed toward him again. This time Lee’s hand shot out and grabbed the younger male’s in a crushing grip. “That’s getting real irritating.”

Siddoh’s eyebrow quirked at him. “What crawled up your ass and died?”

He’d be damned before he gave Siddoh a straight answer to that one. Instead, he just shrugged. “This wizard thing. The attack we had earlier tonight wasn’t anything like you’re describing. It was one of my easiest kills. Something doesn’t fit.”

Siddoh pulled his hand away, shaking it a little to get the feeling back. “How’s this? We’ll keep Tyra’s recon activities limited to late afternoon or early evening. That way, if something goes down, we can be out the door soon after. Night falls early this time of year.”

“I want to be sure she’s cool with it.”

Siddoh lifted his palms. “Absolutely.”

“Deal,” Lee ground out. He rolled his shoulders a couple of times. His muscles should have been looser after having just had a shower. Palming his chin, he twisted his head fiercely over his left shoulder and then his right until there was a satisfying pop at the base of his skull. “I’ll talk to Tyra later on. Anything else I need to know?”

Siddoh shrugged. “Had a couple dead humans show up over the weekend in that part of town we were just looking at. They appeared to have been electrocuted but the ‘how’ part was unclear. We’re thinking there’s a chance of nonhuman involvement, but it wasn’t obvious enough so we left it for the human cops. Be good to keep an eye out, though.

“Other than that… C and D teams are out on patrol doing their thing. No one’s checked in yet. Usually no news is good news. Team A has the night off, and I’m headed to the training center shortly to put B through their paces after they finish sparring. You want to come with?”

“Thanks, but I want to see how Xander’s holding up. After that, I’ll be back at the main house if you need me for any reason. We’ve got an unconscious human and a freaked-out queen to deal with over there.” He threw up his hand in a half-assed wave and headed for the door.

“Damn, buddy. You get all the fun.”

Yeah.

***

Tyra grimaced. Her boots echoed down the hallway of the shelter’s men’s wing, a loud reminder that in her haste she’d left Lee’s room without bothering to go and change into normal street clothes. Good thing she could make it a short night. Get the new resident checked in and then head right back.

She wanted a chance to talk with Thad’s female. She had gleaned a lot of conflicting emotions from her, and she was itching with the urge to help play matchmaker. After spending the last several decades sowing his wild oats, Thad deserved to settle down with a good female. Tyra couldn’t see him ruling alone as their father had for so long.

She punched a code into the security keypad that guarded the shelter’s main lobby. For security’s sake, all the sleeping areas were under electronic lock as well during the night. Tyra nodded to the police officer and “Anton Smith,” who were standing by the front desk waiting for her.

“Mr. Smith, I’m Tyra Morgan.” She extended her hand, which he shook awkwardly. Like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. The man radiated an overwhelming sense of loss and confusion. “I’ve got a room ready for you. I’ll show you to it as soon as we get you all checked in.”

The officer handed her a file containing information she already knew. White male, midthirties, treated for multiple lacerations and head trauma. Memory loss, which certainly explained the confusion. No ID or personal effects were on the body, which had been brought into the ER by a couple of hunters who had found him in the woods naked and bloodied to within an inch of his life. The man remembered his first name but not his last. “Smith” had been added by the hospital for administrative purposes.

She shook her head, giving him as much of a subtle once-over as possible. His jeans and flannel shirt were baggy—obviously donations, as were the ratty sneakers on his feet. While his wardrobe screamed “homeless,” his body did not. He was fairly well built, and his hands were calloused like they were used to hard work. His head was neatly shaved and still bandaged.

Perhaps he’d been law enforcement or military? She could see an undercover agent of some sort getting beaten and left for dead like he had been. Or a drug dealer who’d screwed the wrong supplier, maybe. And then there was the way he was looking at her. He had yet to speak but he seemed to be sizing her up in the same way she was assessing him, his shrewd, hooded eyes regarding her with cautious interest.

She finished the intake, bid good-bye to the officer, and gestured for Mr. Smith to walk ahead of her to the door of the men’s wing. Standard procedure in such circumstances was for the officer to accompany the new resident to his or her room, but Tyra never saw the need, given that she was stronger and faster than even the toughest human male. Besides, the average resident just wanted a warm bed.

Mr. Smith walked ahead of her and she was able to evaluate his broad shoulders, his confident gait, and the fact that his arms appeared to swing freely but his hands were still ready for action. She’d seen that walk on every soldier she’d ever trained with.
Ex-military, then.

Tyra stopped and swung open the door to the room that had been set aside for him. “Here you go. It has all the spaciousness and comfort of a shoe box, but I hope you’ll manage to make yourself at home.”

The bare eight-by-twelve room held a bed, a chair, and a small table, all metal and hard to break. There had been a lamp, but anything not bolted down disappeared eventually. A clock on the wall was covered by chicken wire so the face couldn’t be damaged, and it clicked and buzzed incessantly in a way that would have driven her absolutely bat-shit crazy if she’d ever had to sleep in the same room with it. She always gave this room away last because of the thing.

She tilted her head slightly, taking a closer look at Mr. Smith’s face. He had kind eyes. Soft and gray. Not a word yet, though, had come out of that firm, full mouth of his.

“Thank you,” he said finally, as he sat tentatively on the edge of the bed. His voice was low and rich. Soothing.

“Is there anything I can get for you, Mr. Smith?”

“Please, call me… Anton… I guess.” He frowned. “I wish I could at least remember my last name.”

“I know it’s easier said than done, but try not to let it get to you,” she said warmly. “According to your file, there’s a very good chance this is only short term. Once your injuries heal more, you could very well find it all coming back to you. The room is yours for the next six weeks, so you’ve got some time to figure things out.

“If it helps, I’ve read that often memory loss is psychosomatic. You’ll probably remember when you’re ready to.” She was getting a stare from him that was part confusion and part rapt fascination. Like the way a cat would stare at a fish tank. “So, are you all right, Mr. Smith?”

He shook his head as if to clear it. “Sorry. I guess I was thinking that something about you seemed familiar.” He chuckled sadly. “Maybe I’m just so desperate to remember something that everything seems familiar.”

She stepped forward and gave his shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze. A follow-up scan of his emotions revealed anxiety, confusion, sadness, and
who-ho-hoa
… lust? Tyra shivered.

No deception, though. No guile. She stepped away quickly, turning toward the door to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. She cleared her throat to cover the sudden discomfort. “Uh, breakfast is at seven. It’s already late; you should probably try to get some rest.”

He nodded and swallowed, still looking at her a little too intently. Her hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again. “Are you—have you maybe been to the hospital recently for some reason?”