VoodooMoon (14 page)

When I ran out of drawers and closets to look in I turned to watch Ian. He stood in the middle of the room, his arms bent at the elbows and extended in front and slightly to either side of his body, palms up.

Every necromancer had a different way of summoning, but Ian always used this posture. I had asked him once why he stood that way and he told me it was his way of bestowing respect on the passed spirits. He held his body open to them, showing he had nothing to hide and that he was asking for, not demanding, assistance. Whatever the reasoning, it must work. Ian had a higher success rate at getting helpful information than any other Necromancer I had worked with.

I was careful to stay close to the wall, away from him, knowing he preferred privacy for this part. As I watched Ian looked at people I couldn’t see, speaking in low, hushed tones, then incline his head, clearly listening to something I couldn’t hear. After a few moments he relaxed his pose, dropping his hands to his sides and turned his head towards me and motioned for me to come over.

I approached, careful to stand slightly behind and to the side opposite from where his body was turned. According to Ian, the spirits hated it when someone stood in the middle of them. I couldn’t blame them, the idea didn’t sound too good to me either.

“Fiona, I’m speaking with Hailey. She has agreed to answer a few questions. She has already told me a little. Hailey was with us as we spoke with the Purcells. She told me Farah’s mother dotes on her, spoils her, but forbids her to speak of magic, especially around Mr. Purcell.” Ian said to me, then turned his head back in the direction of the invisible Hailey.

“Hailey,” I said, keeping my gaze low in order to keep from staring past the spirit. “Have you ever heard Farah talk about a boyfriend? Do you think she would have run away?”

Ian didn’t have to repeat my question. Even though I couldn’t see or hear Hailey, she was completely aware of me. After a moment of careful listening, Ian turned back to me. “She doubts Farah would run away. Her father drowns her in gifts and money, even though he barely speaks to her. According to Hailey, Farah is spoiled and too attached to the luxury her father’s money and status affords her. As for a boyfriend, no. But Hailey has heard Farah and her friends talk about boys and men they have had sex with quite often.”

He turned his head back in the other direction for a moment, then back to me. “It seems Farah goes out with her friends almost every night, and almost every night she is quite disheveled when she gets in. Hailey says she has seen people look like that before, and it usually means they are addicted to drugs.”

I took in the information and nodded. “Hailey, do you know if you saw Farah the last time she was home? Before she went out?” I worded the question carefully, because ghosts didn’t have a good sense of time.

It took several minutes before Ian spoke. “Hailey likes to spend time around Farah, she reminds her of her little sister, so she is with her most of the time she is home. She was with Farah the last time she was here. Nothing seemed any different than any other night.”

“Thank you, Hailey,” I said.

Ian inclined his head, then spoke again. “Hailey asked me to ask you to please find Farah. She really is a good girl, and it is very lonely here without her.”

My heart lurched. I didn’t know how long Hailey had been dead, and it would be rude to ask, but it was obvious she was clinging to the living world so fiercely she couldn’t even interact with the other spirits in the area. What an incredibly lonely existence.

When I spoke, my voice was rough with emotion. “I will do everything in my power, Hailey. I promise. Thank you for talking with me. It was an honor to meet you.”

“Yes, thank you, Hailey.” Ian said, then we left the room.

When we were in the hall, I quietly asked, “No sign of Farah’s spirit?”

“No, not at all. I don’t think she has passed, though it is still possible. Under normal circumstances a spirit stays with the body for a few days, and in any circumstances, this house may not be where her spirit would choose to bounce back. It doesn’t seem to be a place of much comfort for her.”

“True enough,” I replied. “Okay, let’s go talk to those girls, though I’m not sure they will be much more help.”

****

It was getting late, so Ian and I split the girls up and questioned them separately. Ian’s contract with the Blade’s made it legal for him to question suspects and witnesses as long as he had a Blade agent or Guard officer present, so he and Rangel took Maria Reece to the front porch while I stayed on the back porch with Shani Lin.

I stood in front of her while she sat on a porch swing, rocking back and forth and fidgeting nervously.

“We were at this bar, Pinky’s something, but there was no action so we decided to head over to the Blue Vein.” The girl sniffed.

When she said the name of the bar they went to after Pinky’s my eyes immediately went to the girl’s arms. Sure enough, there were several small scars on her wrist. The other arm had similar scars on the wrist and inner elbow. They were tiny and innocuous enough if you didn’t know what you were looking at, but I did. The Blue Vein was a notorious Sucker hang out. It seemed Farah and her friends liked to get high by getting their blood sucked. I wondered if it was a passing fad for them, if the scars I could see were all they had, or if they had started out getting bitten in places that weren’t easily seen and had progressed to not caring if the scars were visible. If that were the case it wouldn’t be long before the girls were completely absorbed by the sucker culture.

Shani noticed my eyes on her wrist and pulled her hand behind her back. “It’s not what you think. We aren’t addicts. We just like to have a little fun, get a little high on the weekends.”

That may be true, but the fact that the girls routinely frequented Sucker bars added another possible layer to the case. Farah’s disappearance might not be related to the others at all, or there could be a possibility they hadn’t yet looked at in the other cases.

“Miss Lin, did you know there are slave traders who look for strong young women like you and your friends to sell to rogue vamps in the Outter Zones?” I asked, my voice unemotional.

She blanched and the tears started again. “Are, are you saying that is what happened to Farah?”

I sighed. “No, I am not. We don’t know what happened to Miss Purcell, but we will follow every lead. What I am saying is that every time you and your friends go into a sucker bar, you are putting yourself at risk. Every time you allow an addict vampire to bite you and suck your blood you are putting yourself in danger. All it would take is for you to let the wrong vamp bite you. All they’d have to do is suck a little too much, just enough to make you pass out. You could wake up far from Nash as a slave. Then you would have no control over who bit you or how much they took, you would be lucky if you weren’t killed by them taking too much. Though, if you ended up sold as chattel to someone in No Man’s Land you’d be luckier if they did kill you quickly.”

Her eyes were wide now and she was trembling so hard it was a wonder I couldn’t hear her teeth chattering. I felt a little guilty at terrifying her, but only a little. If she was scared maybe she would think twice before letting an addict vamp bite her again. I might have been a little too brutal with the truth, but I hadn’t lied. The danger was very real.

I put my hand on her shoulder and tried to sound a little nicer. “Look, there is nothing to indicate that is what happened to Farah. I can promise you we will do everything we can to find her. But, you do need to know the real danger you and your friends put yourselves in. Getting high just isn’t worth the risk of what could happen. Just be careful and think it through, please.”

She sniffed and wiped the tears streaming down her face with the back of her hand. “I…okay. I’ll think about it. I swear.”

I had no doubt she would think about what I’d told her and would stay out of the bars for a night or two, but I had no idea if it would have any lasting impact. I nodded at her. “Okay, let’s continue. You were headed over to the Blue Vein.”

“Oh, yes. The street was crowded and there was a line to get into the bar. We were just about to the front of the line when Farah said she saw a hottie that had been looking at her in the last bar, Pinky’s. She said he waved her over and she was going to talk to him. She said if she didn’t catch up to us by the time we left, to just go on home and she’d see us in the morning.”

“Did you see who she was talking about?” I asked.

“Of course not. She knew I would have tried to snake her if she pointed him out,” Shani said with a teary laugh.

“What?” I was thoroughly confused.

“It’s a game. We get points for every hottie we go home with, or out back, or where ever, if you know what I mean.”

I did know what she meant, and it made me a little sick at my stomach, but I stayed quiet and let her continue.

“We get extra points if it is a paranorm of any race, double points if it is a shifter, since they are so rare in the city. We also get double points if we snake a guy out from under some other girl, triple if it’s one of us. Farah is ahead of both Maria and I, but a triple score would have put me way in the lead, so there is no way she would have pointed him out to either of us. I think he might have been blond though, Farah likes blonds. What? It’s just a little harmless fun,” she said, obviously seeing the horror on my face.

Harmless fun? These girls were completely oblivious to the danger they were putting themselves into. It was one thing for adults to engage in consensual sex, but these girls were playing games with their lives. My hopes of ever finding Farah alive plummeted. The girls engaged in so much risky behavior anything could have happened to Farah. It was pure luck that the other two weren’t alongside her where ever she was. I bit my tongue to keep from laying into the girl. It wasn’t my place to lecture her, besides, I doubted it would help. I’d seen out of control kids before, but I’d never heard of something like the game the girls played.

“Okay, Shani, I think that’s it. Thanks for talking to me. Please let the Blades know immediately if Farah gets in touch with you, okay?” I said, ready to end this conversation.

“Okay.” She got up and started to go inside, but stopped when she reached the door. “Do you think our game is the reason Farah is missing? Do you think the hottie did something bad to her?”

I sighed. “I truly don’t know. But what you girls do, letting vamps bite you, going off with strange men, you must know it isn’t safe. I know that must be a part of the thrill, the danger. But danger isn’t fun; it is, for lack of a better word, dangerous. I think you know that. What happened to Farah may have nothing to do with the way you three party, but the odds are that if you don’t stop, one day I’ll be standing in your parent’s home asking them when they last saw you.”

I tried to keep my tone sympathetic, though I knew my words were brutal. To my great surprise, Shani didn’t burst into tears again. Her face was sober and tear streaked as she nodded at me, then opened the door and disappeared inside.

I stood there for several minutes, giving her time to retreat and giving myself time to compose myself. My job was never pretty, but what I’d heard here today just made me heart sick. I took a few deep breaths then headed back through the house to find Ian. I was ready to go home, it had been a long day and we had a long night ahead of us.

I stared at the spike-heeled excuse for boots and my feet started aching at the thought of putting them on. I was so exhausted all I wanted to do was crawl back in between the sheets of my snug little bed, pull the quilt up over my head and sleep for a week. I flipped over, my head landing on my soft, down filled pillow and seriously debated doing just that.

For the past four days I’d spent the mornings and afternoons investigating with Ian then, after a few hours of sleep in the evenings, patrolling the bars and other nightspots of Broadway all night. Despite all of the time we’d spent, we still weren’t any closer to finding any of the missing mages, including Farah Purcell.

Over the last three days Ian and I had visited the homes and work places of every missing person that fit the pattern, spoken to all of their families and visited the places they were last scene. So far not a single lead had turned up.

We couldn’t find anything that linked any of the victims. As far as we could tell none of them knew each other, or had mutual friends or acquaintances. They all had very different jobs, friends, personalities and lifestyles. They did all have two things in common, but even those commonalities were varied. First, they all were last seen either at an establishment on Broadway or on their way to somewhere on Broadway, but some of them never met up with their parties, so we have no idea if they even made it to Broadway. Second, they were all mages, but their levels of power ranged from just barely enough to register as a mage to a level seven on the 10-scale.

After our visit to the Purcell’s home, Ian and I weren’t sure if Farah’s disappearance was related to the others. There was a very good chance she had just ran away, she did have good reason to want to stay away from her family. However, considering the extremely risky behavior she and her friends engaged in on a regular basis, any number of terrible things could have happened to her. It could just be a coincidence that it happened in the same area and time frame as the other victims. But, I didn’t think so. Something told me that whoever took the other missing mages and tried to take Millie Linton had Farah Purcell.

With that thought in my head reminding me why I needed to get up and get dressed I pulled my aching body back up into a sitting position and grabbed the boots. I slid my foot in, the supple leather sliding up my leg and over my knee. I tightened the laces from the tip of my toe to my lower thigh that held the wide strip of leather together and tied them tightly. Luckily the brown leather contraptions also had a thick piece of leather resembling a belt attached to the top of each boot and wrapped around the lower part of my thigh and fastened with a heavy metal buckle. I suspected the belt was for fashion purposes as much as to keep the boot from falling off.

The boots weren’t mine, I had never seen the point in wearing shoes that made me four inches taller than my already considerable height, were precarious to walk on and impossible to run in. After all, my job involved a lot of running. Though, I had to admit, the boots would make a handy weapon when kicking someone in the head, except I’d never be able to balance myself on just one of the thin little heels.

I borrowed the boots and the other shoes, as well as some of the clothes I’d worn over the past few nights from Anya. Her clothes, even those she worked in, were a little more appropriate for “party girl” cover than my own. I was supposed to look sexy and approachable, but according to Anya, Pinky, and to my dismay, Sam, my clothes were less “come hither, big boy,” and more “touch me and I’ll fuck you up”.

I stood up to take a look at tonight’s get-up in my small wall mirror. The skirt set I wore was one of Anya’s that she had made herself. The skirt was a fluttery, concoction of four wide ruffles made out of a pale lavender thin, semi-transparent fabric cut at an angle so that the back reached down to the back of my knee but the front just skimmed the middle of my thigh. The ruffles layered over each other so that only a few inches on the bottom was actually see-through.

The top was a lavender brocade half-corset that ended at least two inches above my belly button and laced up in the back with a matching lavender ribbon. The effect of it all together was actually quite flattering, even if it wasn’t my usual style. I think I would have even liked the outfit if the boots had a more practical heel.

I brushed my hair letting it fall in soft waves around my shoulders. I preferred having it braided or at least tied back, I hated it blowing in my face and it was more practical, but I couldn’t deny that leaving it loose made me look softer, more approachable. Deciding I looked presentable enough, I tucked a small throwing dagger the top of each of the thigh-high boots. The bulk of the belt and buckle hid them from prying eyes, despite the snug fit of the thin leather against my skin. I would have felt more comfortable with my hanbo, or even my large dagger at my hip, but weapons didn’t project the friendly and cuddly attitude I was going for.

The wardrobe choices for the patrols had been made based on what many of the missing women had been wearing the nights they disappeared. Many of them, like Farah, had been out partying, either with friends or alone. After the first night when I’d showed up in what I would normally wear down to Pinky’s, Anya had been quickly enlisted by Sam to usher me upstairs and make me look a little more feminine. Since then, Anya had made all clothing decisions and approved my look before each night’s op.

I took one more look in the mirror and decided it was as good as it was going to get and went out into the living room to get my inspection.

“Wow,” Anya said, letting out a loud wolf whistle. “Ian’s brain is going to explode when he gets a load of you in that outfit.”

“The point of this get-up isn’t to make Ian’s brain explode, it is to make me look sexy enough to have the kidnapper approach me,” I said, though if Ian had a meltdown it would be a happy coincidence. It had actually been quite fun seeing his reaction to the skimpy outfits Anya had provided for me over the past few nights.

He never made a verbal comment, as we were always surrounded by people during our evening briefings and then were separated the rest of the night, but I saw the way his eyes darkened and he swallowed hard every time he saw me in a new outfit. Surprisingly he hadn’t said anything during the day to me either. Though we had been working alone together over the past few days he had been completely professional, except once.

Unbidden the memory of the day we got the case popped into my head. After we left the Purcell home we rode back to Nash City while discussing everything we learned from the Purcells and Farah’s two friends. Our earlier baiting of each other was forgotten as we debated the different possibilities of what may have happened to Farah. When we arrived at Blade Headquarters we took care of the horses, then walked out together, making plans about what we would do the next day. But as we took the stairs to the main floor, Ian grabbed my arm and pushed me gently against the wall and leaned in to me, one hand on the wall on either side of my head, our bodies separated by mere centimeters.

“You know,” he said, softly, his breath fluttering warmly against my cheek. “Sam was right. We do have something between us we need to work out.”

My body screamed, “Yes, our clothes are between us. We definitely need to work on that.” But my brain was a little more sensible. Well, not much. I suddenly didn’t want to fight the attraction anymore, my only objection was that this wasn’t the time or place to explore the sexual heat between us.

“Ian, I…” he cut of my words by laying his index finger against my mouth.

“Shhh. Just listen.” He slid his finger along my cheek and down my throat, his hand resting on the curve of my neck and shoulder. “We have to focus on this case, but when it is over, we will work it out. No more running away, for either of us. But, until then, a little something to tide us over.”

Before I could say anything he slid his fingers to the back of my neck, leaned into me and lowered his lips to mine. My objections to our location faded away as every cell in my body focused on the feel of him against me, the taste of him on my lips. My arms went around him, pulling him closer, my hands sliding over the taught muscles of his back.

The kiss wasn’t frenzied and fierce like the one we’d shared on the dance floor at Pinky’s; it was slow and sensual and brain-meltingly intense. His lips moved over mine, leisurely, tauntingly. I pressed harder against him, pushing for more, but he held back, setting his own pace. His tongue traced the outline of my lips thoroughly as if mapping them as he tasted. When I opened my mouth to give him access he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. Heat pooled in my abdomen and slowly sank lower.

My whole body went limp and I let out soft moan as he pulled away, his teeth pulling and grazing my lip as he let it go. He pressed his forehead to mine and whispered, “I’ll see you tonight.”

Then he pulled completely way from me and he was gone, taking the stairs up to the next floor before I even had the energy to open my eyes. I sagged against the wall for quite a while, until my knees solidified enough for my legs to work.

Despite my training, I hadn’t reacted when he grabbed me. There were so many things I could have done, so many ways I could have kept him from cornering me, yet I had done nothing. I would use the excuse that I was surprised and startled, but I’m trained to always be on guard, to anticipate everything, and to think and react quickly when in danger. The only explanation I could come up with over the countless times I’d thought about it over the past few days was that I had instinctively known I wasn’t in danger so there had been no reason to break Ian’s wrist or body slam him into the concrete floor.

That kiss had been the singular most sensual moment of my entire life, and it had lasted all of half a minute. I had a hell of a time getting rest that evening before our first night of stake-outs with that little interlude playing over and over in my mind. True to his word, except for the lust in his eyes when he saw me in the barely there outfit Anya made me change into, Ian had been one hundred percent professional that night, and every night since. Even though we spent our days together, alone much of the time, our focus had been on working and he hadn’t even baited me once. I missed it a little, and seeing his reactions to the outfits Anya cooked up had become something I looked forward to each night.

“Earth to Fiona,” Anya waved a hand in front of my face.

“Huh? What?”

“I was explaining, for the hundredth time this week, that you don’t need any extra help in the sexy department; my clothes just make you look a little less intimidating. But, of course, you were zoned out again. That seems to happen every time Ian’s name gets mentioned, big sister. What’s going on with you two?” Anya asked.

“Nothing,” I said, she didn’t buy it. “Don’t look at me like that. There isn’t anything going on, at least not right now. But when this case is over, well, I’m not sure then.”

Anya grinned. “Oh? What happened to change your mind since last week? After that kiss he laid on you one the dance floor downstairs you were impossible to live with and insisted it was a fluke and there would never be anything between you two.”

“I protested too much, did I?” I asked, wincing a bit.

“Only a little,” she laughed. “So, what happened?”

“He kissed me again and I changed my mind,” I said, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

“Ooh, do tell!”

I was trying to figure out how to extricate myself from the conversation when she turned her head and I noticed a dark purple smudge along her hairline just over her ear. I looked closer and realized the top of her ear was the same dark shade.

“You’ve been fighting again,” I accused, my voice slightly smug at having found a way to avoid answering her question and turn the tables on her at the same time. I let out a small hoot of laughter at the horrified look of guilt on her face. “You know, if you want to keep from getting found out you might want to get River to make you some heavier makeup.”

“This is the best she has; I must have missed a spot.” She ran over to the mirror on the wall near the door and tossed her head around looking for the tell-tale bruise.

“Over your left ear. No, your other left. You know, Pinky is going to kill you when he finds out.” I told her.

She rubbed some tinted cream along her hairline and over the top of her ear. The bruise faded away as if it had never been there. “He’s not going to find out. Unless you tell him.” The last was accompanied by a pointed glare.

“Down girl, you know I’m not going to rat you out. But you know he always finds out.” I said, grinning at her.

“I know. Damn. I just don’t get it. He doesn’t give you any grief when you come home with bruises.”

“Oh, he does, just maybe not as much as you. But there are some differences, you know. For one, fighting is a part of my job. I’m not cruising the docks and back alleys for street fights.”

She flashed a grin at me. “You could technically call it a job for me, since I made two hundred bucks off today’s bets.”

My forehead met my palm with an audible smack. “Crap, Anya, do I even want to know how you managed to bring in that much in one afternoon?”

“Probably not. Sit so I can do your makeup.”

I did as I was told, but leveled an expectant glare on her as she began rubbing cream into my face. “Tell me anyway.”

“Oh, sheesh. It was no big deal. There was a fight down at the docks. They were all sailors, new around here. They got taken in by the tiny little girl that wanted in on the action. Got me good odds. I cleaned out four of them without a mark on me. The last guy just got a few lucky shots in. Wouldn’t have gotten those if he hadn’t been juiced up.”

She was brushing shimmery mineral powder over my eyelids so I couldn’t facepalm. I settled for a heavy sigh. Juicers were the opposite of suckers. Instead of letting vamps sink their fangs into them, juicers got their high by drinking Shifter blood. When ingested, components in Were blood cause increased hormone and adrenaline production which gives the user a temporary boost in speed and strength. Juicing also causes aggression, rage, and loss of control.