Necromancing Nim (6 page)

“Hey,” I replied. “What’s up?” I moved my hand in my pocket a little, and his gaze fell to my waist. His smile quirked; he must have registered the shape of the gun pressing against the fabric.

When his eyes rose again to meet mine, they were steady and serious, and his smile faded. “I need your help.”

I considered my answer but not for long. “Fair enough.” I gave him a decisive nod and rounded the car to get into the driver’s side. The car was still locked; I had no idea how he’d gotten in. Watching him narrowly, I slid into the seat and put my clipboard away.

He seemed to relax, leaning back against the headrest as I put the keys into the ignition and started to back the car out. “How many more stops do you have tonight?” he asked.

I glanced at the clipboard, though I knew the answer. “Just one.”

He nodded tiredly. “Mind if I tag along?”

I shrugged. “You’re already tagging. You’re not planning on biting me, are you?”

He gave me a challenging smirk. For a second, I thought he was going to say something smarmy, like,
Only if you ask me to, baby
. But the smirk faded, and he shook his head. When he turned his attention back to the front windshield, he just looked tired.

“No. Not tonight.” He shifted in his seat and winced.

“You okay?”

“Not at the moment. It’ll be better by sunrise.”

I realized I’d taken a wrong turn and took a few minutes to backtrack. When I was back on course, I focused on him again. He had his eyes closed. I couldn’t tell if he was asleep, so I talked to him anyway.

“I saw on the news you escaped from jail. What’s up with that?”

He gave a soft sigh, and at first I thought he was, indeed, asleep and wasn’t going to answer my question. Then he opened one startlingly blue eye. “It’s been on the television?”

I shrugged. “Not really a news story or anything. Just one of those headline tractors at the bottom of the screen.”

He made a mocking pout. “I’m hurt.”

“Right. So…what’s up with that?”

“Well, firstly, it wasn’t jail. It was a holding cell downtown. And I could have escaped at any time.”

The last sounded arrogant, but I was certain it was true. “I see.” I hesitated, not sure if I should broach the obvious next question. “They also say you killed that girl at the Brown Palace.”

His gaze jerked back toward me, eyes flashing. “I didn’t.”

“I know you didn’t. By the color on you, you haven’t touched so much as a shot for a good few days. No way you fed off somebody last night.”

He blinked, surprise evident in his widened eyes, then visibly relaxed. “It’s been a week. And last time, it wasn’t human blood.”

I nodded. “If I thought you’d killed somebody, you wouldn’t still be in my car.”

“I believe that.”

Good. It was good to be feared. “Plus, if you were the one who bit her, you’d know she disappeared from the morgue last night about the same time you skipped jail.”

He cut a sharp glance at me, eyes narrowed. “Turned?”

“Dunno. She’s just missing. I’d say it’s a fair bet, though.”

His reaction surprised me. His head fell back against the headrest, and he closed his eyes, wincing. “Shit.” The word came sincere but profoundly tired. I’d figured a vamp would be happy to hear someone else had joined the ranks of the undead.

I hesitated before asking the next question, feeling quite out of my depth. “Why did you skip out of the holding cell?”

“Someone tried to kill me.” He vaguely indicated the marks on his face.

Spying my next stop just up the street, I scoped out a parking place. “What happened?”

“Someone opened the window in the holding cell. I almost didn’t make it out.”

I winced at the image. I’d seen vampires go up in sunlight before, and it wasn’t pretty. “Do you know who did it?” I parallel parked under a streetlight and shut off the engine.

“I have a pretty good idea.” He turned his head away as he spoke, making his answers seem even more evasive.

“Do you know why?” I pressed.

He gave me another look, this one sidelong and full of things he didn’t want to tell me. “Yes.”

“Care to share?”

He made a thoughtful face, as if he were considering his options. Then, “Not really.” I’d been expecting a much more immediate, definitive
no
.

I shrugged. His problem, not mine. “Guess I can’t help much, then.”

Picking up my clipboard, I double-checked the address. When I laid it back down on the dashboard, Sebastian was regarding me gravely.

“What?” I asked.

“Has Colin said anything about all this?”

I debated how much to tell him. Colin hadn’t given me any instructions, though. “He asked what happened last night, and he seemed upset about the news today.”

He nodded. “We’re…friends. Or we were.”

Knowing Colin, I took Sebastian’s statement to mean that they’d at some point been in a situation where neither was in a big hurry to kill the other. From what I’d seen, that was about as close to “friends” as Colin got. And since Colin had nothing definitive to say on the subject, all I could do was speculate. So I stuck my neck out and speculated. “Seemed to me like he’d be willing to help you out.”

“I don’t know. We didn’t part on the best of terms.”

Why wasn’t I surprised by that? “I see.” I unbuckled my seat belt and double-checked my pepper spray and squirt gun. My stomach quavered—delayed reaction, since I’d been calm at the last stop. It had been fine, so there was no reason to think this one wouldn’t also go smoothly.

“You want backup?” Sebastian asked. The offer seemed sincere.

I allowed myself to consider but in the end told him no as firmly as I could manage. “Gotta get back on the horse.”

He smiled. “Good plan.” Shifting, he settled back into his seat. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Thanks,” I said, the word curt. Then, relenting, “Thanks.” That time, I meant it.

This vamp in arrears proved not quite as easy to deal with as the last one but not threatening or psychotic or hungry. Just kind of an asshole. In the end, he took my card and my advice and slammed the door in my face. Paperwork properly signed, I headed back to the car.

It was a good thing the stop had gone well. Sebastian was leaning against the passenger-side window, sound asleep. Dark lashes fanned across his pale cheeks, and I could swear if I looked closely I could see a freckle or two. Vampires didn’t usually get my libido revving, but this one did. Except he didn’t breathe when he was asleep. That was just weird.

He was still asleep when I pulled back into my parking spot in the garage under Sixteenth Street. I poked him in the shoulder.

“Mr. Marcheleto. Wake up.”

He didn’t move. I poked him harder. “Sebastian.”

Still nothing. It occurred to me that there was no reliable way to tell if he was asleep or actually dead. Well,
dead
dead as opposed to normal vampire-type dead. The thought brought an uncomfortable flash of alarm. Why I was worried, I didn’t know. I didn’t even know the guy. I grabbed his shoulder and shook him. “Sebastian!”

He opened one eye and peered at me. “No need to shout.”

Embarrassed now, I gathered my composure. “Sorry. You wouldn’t wake up. I thought you might be…” I trailed off.

“Dead?” He snorted. “Of course I’m dead. I’m a vampire.” He shoved a hand through his short but still unruly brown hair. “I take it everything went well?”

“Yes, thank God, since you were snoring in my car.”

“If I was snoring, why did you think I might be dead?”

He had me there. “Because you were snoring figuratively, not literally.” I grabbed my purse and my clipboard. “I thought vamps only slept in the daytime.”

He grimaced. “It’s the burns. They’re trying to heal, and I need the extra rest.”

It made sense, especially since he was so obviously undernourished. “Are you sure you want to just barge in? You’re sort of an escaped convict at the moment.” I really didn’t want to leave him out here in the parking garage, though. He’d probably be safe, but the place creeped me out, and it seemed unwise, not to mention impolite, to leave him there alone.

He nodded. “Just tell Colin I’m here. We’ll go from there.”

I considered. “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t think you should be left alone.” I could tell he was about to protest and waved him quiet, the answer to the dilemma suddenly obvious. I emptied the pockets of my hoodie, pulled it off and handed it to him. “Put this on,” I said. “Use the hood to cover up a little.” He peered skeptically at me, then at the hoodie. “Yeah, yeah, so I’m half your height. You’re skinny. Put it on.”

Still dubious, he slid the hoodie on. I get them big so I can layer—a necessity in Denver’s capricious weather—so it actually almost fit him. He put the hood up, letting it fall over his face.

“Perfect,” I said, ignoring his narrow wrists poking out of the too-short sleeves. “Let’s go.”

I had to admit I was curious as to what might have been the deal between Sebastian and my boss. This was the first time I’d heard of Colin having any friends to speak of, much less friends who would come to him for help in a bind. Not that I knew much about Colin to begin with. He played his personal life pretty close to the vest. I wasn’t even sure he had one. Which was surprising, since he was big and gorgeous and had that commanding, alpha-male air that a lot of women who were not me seemed to like.

Rather than barge in through the front door and the waiting area, I led Sebastian around to the side entrance that opened into the hallway behind my minuscule office space.

“Have a seat in there,” I told him. “Stay low, and I’ll go get Colin.”

He peered into the cramped room. “This is your office?”

“Yeah.” I quirked an eyebrow. “You wanted to comment?”

His mouth twitched. “It’s a good thing you’re tiny.”

Rolling my eyes, I left him there to squeeze his way into a chair. Maybe he and Colin had something in common after all.

In the reception area, Colin was camped out on Kim’s desk again, sitting a little hunched, arms crossed over his wide chest, glaring at the TV. Kim drilled holes in his back with her eyeballs, like she was about to kill him or at the very least turn in her resignation. I couldn’t blame her. I’d had her job once. It hadn’t gone well. Which was why I was in collections now.

I paused just behind her. The reason for Colin’s death glare at the TV became immediately obvious. The news was running a story regarding Sebastian’s escape. They’d upgraded him from the headline tractor at the bottom of the screen to a full-fledged story.

“…the suspect should be considered extremely dangerous,” the newscaster was saying. “If you see anyone matching this description, call local law enforcement immediately. In addition, be on the lookout for Therese Wilkins, five feet eight, brown hair…”

Colin scrunched his brow up even more and gave me a glance. “Back already?”

I reluctantly dragged my attention away from the TV. I’d wanted to hear more about Therese Wilkins, the victim of the Brown Palace murder that wasn’t a murder anymore. “Yeah.” I handed him the clipboard. “I’m done. And we need to talk.”

He nodded curtly, jumped off Kim’s desk and headed for his office.

“My office,” I said. He wheeled and stared at me like I’d spoken something other than English. “My. Office,” I said again, gesturing with my eyebrows toward the room in question.

“Ooo-kay,” he said and followed me. Kim watched us go, and the smile she gave me was one of abject adoration. I guess she was extra happy I’d gotten his ass off her desk. Personally, I was surprised he’d decided to take orders from me.

I led the way into the office, probably acting far more suspicious than necessary. Nobody was paying much attention to us, more focused on the clock and how long it was until midnight when they could all grab some lunch. Colin’s air of skeptical superiority held until I pushed open the door; then, just for a millisecond, he wasn’t glaring.

“Sebastian?”

Sebastian, sitting hunched over in the chair behind my desk, jumped as if he’d started to doze off again. Colin moved to him, sliding around desk and chairs with a surprising grace I’d never seen from him before, and gently touched Sebastian’s face, avoiding the angry burns. My eyebrows shot up. That was more than just a casual touch. In fact, it seemed possible they didn’t just know each other but knew each other. Like in the Biblical sense. I decided to keep my mouth shut for once, though resisting temptation was so hard it caused actual physical pain.

Sebastian blinked, then opened his eyes as Colin’s touch shifted, his fingers tracing the edges of the raw, red sun marks. They had faded even in the last hour or so but still looked harsh and painful.

Sebastian’s hand rose to touch Colin’s, moving it away from the sores on his face. It was a gentle contact, though, and his fingers lingered. “Colin?”

“Yeah. It’s me.” He drew his hand back. “You okay?”

Sebastian pushed himself up in the chair. “Still alive,” he said, then added with a wry smile, “Or whatever.”