Taste of Grief (Just One Bite #3) (9 page)

Diandra was sobbing into a tissue, Adrian's arms around her,
when Lizbeth got home that night. Adrian glanced up when she came in and fixed
her with a hateful look that startled the Hell out of her. Diandra merely cried
harder. All traces of exhaustion gone, Lizzie rushed to the loveseat and
dropped to her knees in front of Dia. "Baby, what's wrong?" she
asked, desperately searching the room for RaeLynn. Had something happened to
the baby? She felt the blood in her veins turn to ice at the thought.

Adrian looked up at her before rocking Dia in his strong
arms. "The murder of your friend made the news," he said simply,
causing the color to leave her face.

"Oh, God, Dia. Baby, I'm sorry. We thought we had a
lock on the media. No one was supposed to know yet," she babbled. She
reached out for Diandra, hurt and surprised when she was rebuffed.

Diandra struggled to calm herself long enough to speak.
"I had that fucking radio- the scanner thing on. I heard 'officer down' go
across the scanner. I couldn't reach you on your cell phone. Until I saw the
goddamned news I didn't know if you were that officer." Guilt rose to
swallow Lizbeth whole, dragging her under, lower than the grief had dragged
her. She started to speak but Dia wasn't done. "I thought you were dead,
you selfish, inconsiderate bitch. And then I find out from the news that no, it
wasn't my lover, but someone who had been a very dear friend to me for ten
fucking years, Lizbeth. Ten years, and he's gone, and I found out listening to
some chirpy bitch reporter on the six o'clock news." She sank further into
Adrian's arms and sobbed as though her heart had broken. As far as Lizbeth
knew, perhaps it had.

There was nothing to say to that, and Lizzie didn't even try
to defend herself. She sat down in the overstuffed chair across from them and
waited to see if either of them would speak to her. It became obvious that
neither was willing so she prepared to defend herself.

The words halted when an ivory cat came streaking into the
room. He, for it was definitely a he, launched himself into her lap, purring
and snuggling against her. She laughed and set him on the floor, the pain in
her heart lightening just a bit as Eamon shifted into human form. He was
clothed- a fact that surprised her greatly as she always expected to see a
naked human after the change- in a pair of jeans and a black tee shirt. The
shirt was snug, emphasizing the solid musculature underneath. The jeans were
snug across his hips and thighs, only slightly looser below the knee where the
hem ended over bare feet. He peered at her out of his intelligent blue eyes,
the pupils slightly elliptical. Right now that bright blue was softened with
sympathy, and the first sob shook her. His ivory hair was getting a bit shaggy,
matching the thick coat of the cat he could shift into.

"Hey kiddo," he said softly. He perched on the arm
of the chair and wrapped his arms around Lizbeth, instinctively mimicking the
way Adrian held Diandra. "How ya holding up?" he asked softly.

In the meantime, Dia's tears had dried up as she watched
Eamon with undisguised curiosity. She was startled by the way he had gone to
Lizbeth and not her. "Why'd you go to Lizbeth?" she blurted out
before she could stop herself.

Eamon turned a look of reprimand on her, and she flinched
back into Adrian's arms. "Because she needed comfort as well- you're so
busy holding onto him and castigating her that you forget her loss." He
rubbed lightly at Lizzie's back, a friendly, comforting gesture. "I
understand your loss, Diandra, but you must understand hers. He'd become a very
close friend as well as a mentor to her. He helped her get her life back, and
now he's lost his. You're not the only one suffering."

Now the guilt swamped Diandra, pushing her grief back for
the moment. She shook Adrian off and rushed to Lizbeth's side, kneeling at her
feet. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry," she started to say, but Lizbeth shook
her head.

"No, you were right. I never even considered calling
you. The precinct is in an uproar, I ended up being a damned witness instead of
the investigating officer, and I never even gave a thought to you sitting
here." Lizbeth gripped Diandra's hands where they rested lightly on her
knees. "I should have called. All I thought was that we had a wrap on it-
the news didn't have names or details. I should've known in a high-profile case
like this that it would make the news. Someone leaked," she said, her eyes
going hard for a moment, the severity ruined by the glint of tears in her sky
blue eyes.

Diandra shook her head. "The reasons don't matter,
love. How did he get caught up in this, and why him? I don't understand,"
Dia said miserably.

"He dodged protocol," Lizbeth whispered, thinking
out loud. When she realized she had everyone's attention she cleared her throat
and spoke louder. "He dodged protocol. He had all calls about dead bodies
near businesses routed directly to him, and called me in. This call was just a
ruse to lure him out. Someone knew he made that request. This was personal, not
a crime of opportunity. He was lured to his death," she finished, voice
going soft once more.

No one spoke right away. Eamon, as usual, got to the heart
of the matter. "What did Alexar do that drew a target on his back?"
he asked simply.

Adrian spoke up, startling everyone. "Lizbeth has a
theory that this Carson guy is the culprit. Did Alexar do anything in
particular to rile him up?"

Lizbeth just looked at him, eyes full of misery. "I
don't know. I can't think of anything, but I don't see what's to be gained from
his death."

"Don't you?" Eamon asked her, fixing his steely blue
eyes on hers. "I sure see it. Look at yourself. You're a wreck."

"Aren’t I entitled to be?" Lizbeth yelled.

"No," he said simply. "If you fall apart, who
gets justice for Alexar?"

Lizbeth settled down and pondered that. "Carson wants
me to fall apart. He wants me to be too distracted by my grief to pursue him.
As District Attorney, he has access to the case files. Knowing Alexar, there
are forms, in triplicate, stating that he was to be the first call to the
scene." Her eyes hardened once more, and this time the tears were gone.
"There will be justice. I know Carson's behind this. I know he's a
vampire, but I just don't give a shit. I will get justice, and if I have my
way, there will be blood- and this time it won't be my own."

The phone woke Lizbeth once again, and she cursed even as a
spike of pure fear turned her blood to ice. It was just after 2 a.m. and she was
terrified to answer her phone. Finally, turning her anger inward towards
herself, she flipped the phone open. "Snyder," she said gruffly.

"Lizbeth, my dear," a very unwelcome voice said.
The number had showed up blocked on her caller I.D. but she knew that unctuous
voice anywhere.

"Carson- how did you get my fucking number?" she
asked, her anger overwhelming the fear at last. Instead of ice, fire ran
through her veins and the contrast was almost painful.

He laughed at her, a teasing note in his tone. "Why
Lizbeth, you know what I do for a living- of course I have your number. I have
the private numbers of all the local cops."

"Fine then- I suppose the better question is why did
you call me?" She made her tone as harsh and cold as she could in hopes
that she'd piss him off. She didn't know what would be gained from it, but
damnit, she was angry so she wanted him angry, too.

Carson merely laughed again. Who knew she was so funny at 2
a.m.? "I just called to find out if you liked my present. I left that
useless bag of nothingness for you and you alone," he mocked her.

"You sick, twisted, blood-sucking son of a bitch,"
she shouted into her phone. She knew he was baiting her but at the moment she
couldn't bring herself to give a flying fuck. "You will die, you bastard,
and it will be at my hands. I'll make sure of it." Her breath came in hard
pants, as though anger was truly a form of exercise.

There was silence on the other end of the line- apparently
she wasn't so funny anymore. Good, she thought, at least now he understands how
serious I am. "You don't want to test me, little girl. I've dealt with lowly
little beings like you more times than I can count, and I crushed them all. I
look forward to tasting you- I always like to drink to my victory. More bodies
are coming - and you will be my greatest." With that, Giles Carson hung
up, leaving Lizbeth cold and shaking.

She dressed in a simple cotton robe that covered her from
neck to ankle- it was a bright blue shade, and Diandra had bought it for her,
saying how it matched her eye color. She smiled a little as she shuffled
barefoot down the stairs and straight to the kitchen. Foregoing her usual
one-cup coffee maker, she put on a full pot. It was only 2:30 now, and she'd
had a mere three hours sleep, but she was awake for the night.

When Diandra got up later that morning she scooped RaeLynn
up and carried her downstairs for her breakfast. Adrian had taken to preparing
waffles for the baby, cutting them into miniature pieces so there was no
choking risk. Setting the baby in her high chair, Dia was surprised to see
Lizbeth sitting out on the rear deck. "Adrian, Rae's in her high
chair," she called. Without waiting for a response she headed out to her
lover's side. She could hear Adrian talking with the baby as though she were
standing right next to him- her preternatural hearing sure came in handy, she
thought absently.

"Hey, baby," she said brightly as she sat in the
lounge chair next to Lizbeth. "What are you doing home?"

Lizbeth tilted her head towards Dia but didn't make eye
contact. "I called out of work today. I need to clear my head before I go
back there."

Diandra nodded to show she understood. "I imagine it
would be very difficult to go in, knowing Alexar won't be waiting for you.
Hopefully his murderer will be brought to justice." The words were empty-
she knew it wouldn't happen, but there was a part of her that prayed it was
possible.

"No, not gonna happen," Lizbeth snarled. "I
should know- I got the fucking phone call." She jumped up and started
pacing the deck.

The sounds of Adrian's conversation with RaeLynn came
through the glass- "Good girl, RaeRae. What a big girl, eating all of your
waffle. Let's go get you cleaned up." The sound of footsteps retreating
came through clearly to Diandra, although she doubted Lizbeth could hear them.
She returned her thoughts to the conversation at hand, the words just now
sinking in. "What phone call are you talking about?" she asked
quietly, trying to keep herself under control.

"Giles Carson called me. He wanted to brag, asking what
I thought of the package he left for me, calling him a useless bag of
nothingness." Lizbeth slumped back into the lounge chair, her sorrow once
more weighing her down. It was more than the loss of her friend and partner- it
was the knowledge that she'd not get justice for him that hurt the most. She
repeated the conversation to Diandra nearly word for word.

"You said what?" Diandra yelled, anger turning her
face red. "Let me get this straight- you threatened a vampire, knowing
what's he's capable of, and knowing he's killed more than once. At exactly what
point in time did you decide it was a good idea to tell him you'd kill
him?" Now Diandra was the one pacing, doing her best to settle down. She
felt her fangs protrude and cursed herself. She needed better control than
this- she couldn't keep letting her true nature show just because her temper
flared. Secrecy was important- she couldn't risk it getting out because she was
acting like a newly changed vamp. It didn’t matter that she happened to be a
recently changed vamp- she was superior to most of her kind and therefore she
had no excuse.

Lizbeth merely stared at her, waiting for her to calm
herself. "I know who and what he is, and I'm not impressed. Her deserves
to die," she said quietly.

Diandra shook her head. "I don't care. You've painted a
bulls-eye on your back- do you not care about that? That was a stupid move,
Lizzie. Now he'll be gunning for you, ready to make you his next target."

"Then let him- I'll be waiting, and he will die."
Her voice was full of confidence, and that chilled Diandra to the bone. "He
may want me dead, but he underestimates me. He can't want me dead more than I
wish to see him lying dead at my feet."

"Do you have any idea what you're saying? We don't even
know how old he is- he's probably survived more attempts on his life than your
entire precinct put together," Dia said, attempting to sound reasonable.

"I understand, probably better than you think I
do," Lizbeth replied. "But you need to understand something, too. He
wants me dead, and he probably won't stop until he succeeds. It's to be him, or
me. I don't want it to be me, so I must find a way to kill him first."

Diandra sat down heavily in the lounge chair as though her
legs would no longer support her. "Then we need a plan. The first step is,
no more going on calls alone. I need to be with you so you're never in the
position that Alexar was in." She raised a hand to stop the protest she
knew would be coming. "I won't be seen- I'll merely shift into something
harmless no one would notice, only becoming my true self if you're in danger.
But you will not be alone again. I won't risk you just because you're
stubborn."

Lizbeth wanted to protest but knew it was a wasted effort.
The anger died a slow death, and the searing words faded from her tongue,
leaving a bitter taste in their place. "If that's how it's to be, fine,
but you will not interfere with my investigations in any way. Is that
clear?" she asked, and her words were softer than they should have been.
She was no longer angry, and it showed in the tone of her voice.