CHAPTER 5

Dan dropped Evan at home, warning him to not answer the door for anyone until he hears from one of us. Then he drove straight to his police station with me in tow. He isn’t about to let me out of his sight. Not after having lost me once to a vampire who wasn’t as old as the Master of Chicago. I guarantee he learned anything and everything he could about the creatures, and from the desperate look in his eyes, none of it is good. For once, I keep my snarky comments to myself. I can see how terrified he is.

None of that terror is present when we walk into his department. It’s on the fourth floor of the building. They’ve built specialized cells in the basement to house the creatures with supernatural strength or unique abilities such as a witch would have. The bars prevent any magic from occurring. Dan told me you could walk into the cell with the oldest, most dangerous witch alive and you’d be safe from magic. I’m not sure I believe that, but he does.

Several people are milling around, chatting and talking, when we walk into the room. Upon seeing Dan, they make a beeline for him. The older of the two looks to be in his mid-fifties. His salt-and-pepper brown hair is mussed, and his green tie matches the green of his eyes. While tired, they still appear to be as sharp as ever. He looks at me and immediately dismisses me. I keep my smile to myself. I look like Rachel, not Emma Crane. While she’s tatted up, she doesn’t look like all that much, and she certainly doesn’t look dangerous.

“Well, what did the she-devil have to say?” Barney Fife, as I dubbed the second officer, demands. He looks as lanky and goofy as the fictional character.

“She said there’s something stalking the supernaturals of the city. They’ve murdered vampires, and the shifter who was found this morning is another victim. They’ve cleaned up the scenes so far and were not aware of the shifter until it was too late. The body wasn’t found until after daylight, so they couldn’t come out in force to handle it.”

“This is why she came to you?” the older one with the green tie asked. “She wanted your help?”

“She didn’t come to me. She came to my wife.” He gestures to me. “I have a feeling I was an afterthought.”

All eyes turn to me, and I smile. “Didn’t expect him to be married to someone who looks like me?”

“You are not Emma Crane.”

“I am.” I let the glamour fall away. “I just don’t look like myself when I’m in Chicago.”

They all take several steps away from me. I’m not scary; at least I don’t think so. I’m short. My hazel eyes blend in a little with my brown hair unless I use makeup to make them pop, and anyone who’s ever met me doesn’t think I’m a threat. It’s what I want them to think. Unless they piss me off. Then they understand quickly exactly how much of a danger I truly am to their health.

Has to be the Crane name. No matter where I go, it seems to always cause this type of reaction.

“I work in a tattoo parlor, and I don’t want to have to deal with people who have a reason to do something to a Crane outside of New Orleans. Papa has more than his fair share of enemies.”

“As do you,” Green Tie says. “We were warned about you before you came here.”

I shrug. He’s not wrong.

“Mattie, this is Detective Dean Gallagher and his partner, Chad Downs.” Gallagher, or Green Tie, as I’d dubbed him, nods to me.

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Richards, even if I’m a little wary.”

“No need to be wary, Detective. I don’t bite unless I’m provoked, and then you’ll go down screaming.”

“She not joking, is she?” he asks after a full minute.

Dan only smiles. “Irritate her and find out.”

“You two mind answering some questions about your meeting?”

“Sure.” I yawn, sleepy for some reason. “But I am not going into an interrogation room. Bad memories.”

Downs can’t quite keep the distaste off his face. “This stem from your very thick juvenile file?”

“Why, yes, Officer Fife, but you shouldn’t know that, seeing as how the file is sealed and you’d have to violate numerous laws put into place to protect a sealed file.”

“Fife? My name’s Downs.”

“You look like Barney Fife.”

Dan pulls me away before anything violent happens. It’s an art form, knowing how to piss off the police to the point they consider doing me bodily harm.

“Uncalled for,” he whispers.

“And him knowing about my juvenile record isn’t?”

His expression turns grim. “That will be dealt with.”

“I don’t think it will.” I let him lead me down the hall to a fairly large conference room. The mirrored windows will be hiding an observation room. “We are not using this interrogation room either, Dan.”

He sighs. “Let’s go upstairs, then. There are several couches where we can sit, and it’s all open space. No place for anyone to hide and watch us.”

He’s well aware of my aversion to being in an interrogation room. I spent more time in one growing up than I did in actual foster homes for a good majority of my life.

“I’ll talk to…”

“No point, Officer Dan. It’s already been done, and I don’t think anyone will do anything to reprimand him outside of a ‘you shouldn’t have done that, yada yada ya.’”

“I’ll make sure it’s handled, Squirt.”

He can try, but I’d met enough officers in the division to know they are all very much old school cops who do things a certain way and consequences be danged. Fife will suffer no real repercussions for violating my rights. Of that, I am certain.

“Richards, I want an introduction to your wife.”

We pause right before we hit the stairs, and I turn to see a very pretty woman standing off to the left. She’s a witch. I can taste the power coming off her. She’s in her late twenties, early thirties, I think. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a very intricate braid that hurts my hands just thinking about twisting my hair into it, and her blue eyes are just as sharp as Green Tie’s.

Why is it Supernaturals are always very pretty to excessively beautiful? It’s a pattern I’ve noticed. I’m not sure why, unless nature just gives them the best traits to ensure their survival. Beauty inspires trust in most. For me, it inspires caution and mistrust.

He laughs. “Angela Garcia, this is Emma Crane.”

She doesn’t look Hispanic, but maybe she married someone of that ethnicity.

“You’re wondering if I’m married?”

I nod. No point in lying. She probably gets this all the time.

“I’m engaged, actually, but I was adopted as a child. My parents are from Spain and moved here when they were barely eighteen. Both are now legal citizens.”

“I don’t care if they’re here legally or not. Not my business.”

“I appreciate that.” She smiles, and it lights up her entire face. Then she nods to the detectives coming toward us when they see we aren’t headed to the conference room. “Don’t mind the fuddy-duddies. They can come off as demanding, but they’re actually good at their job.”

“What’s your job?” I ask.

“I’m a consultant. I don’t think they’d exactly put a witch on the job full time.”

“Shame. I hire Supernaturals all the time. I have a resident witch on staff at my foundation. Never cut yourself out of an avenue of opportunity or, in this case, investigation.”

“Angela, why don’t you join us?” Dan suggests. “I’d like your take on this as well.”

“We haven’t made the decision if her services will be necessary…”

I cut Fife off with a single look. “I want her there. She knows the magical world here in Chicago better than any of us.” Taking her hand, I drag her along as I head up the stairs, then sink into one of the very uncomfortable couches. “Dan, you need to invest in better couches. How are you supposed to nap on these things?”

“That’s the point, sweetheart. They’re made to encourage you not to nap.”

I stick my tongue out at him. “Lame.”

“I agree.”

We wait for the other two men to come upstairs, as well as Dan’s commanding officer, Lieutenant Miguel Rivers. Now, there is no mistaking this man’s heritage with his dark hair and brown skin. He, too, is a handsome devil I’m sure gets swooned over quite a bit. He’s the type of person who either doesn’t notice this or doesn’t care. His looks don’t play into his work. Or his life, I think. He’s like Dan. He’s a good man who tries his best. I wouldn’t want to test him, however. There’s a temper just under the surface of his personality. One I wouldn’t want aimed at me. It’s always the nice ones who have the worst tempers.

“Mattie, good to see you again.” He smiles warmly and takes a seat across from us on the other couch, the small coffee table between us. “Sounds like you and Dan have had an interesting time of it the last fifteen hours or so.”

“That’s one way to put it. It’s not often a ghoul comes to my apartment door demanding an audience with their master.”

“You met her today, yes?”

I nod.

“What was she like?”

“Dangerous, deadly, and extremely intelligent. She’s old. Older than almost anything I’ve ever come up against, and if I’m truthful with myself, if I allowed it, I’d be shaking right now. I’ve learned to never show fear, though. That’s their way in. Give them an inch, and they’ll take a thousand miles.”

“If you allowed it?” Fife sneers. “If you’re not scared of a master vampire, then you’re stupid.”

“Enough,” Miguel barks. “If you can’t keep your comments to yourself, then I’m sure there is more than enough paperwork for you to get caught up on.”

“Officer Fife, let me clue you in about a few things. Have you ever faced a demon?”

He shakes his head.

“Have you ever faced an Angel?”

Again, no.

“How about a Fallen Angel?’

Another shake of his head.

“A rougie?”

“What?”

“She means a rougarou,” Dan supplies with a smile. “You’re never going to remember the name of that, are you?”

“Same difference.” I wave his comment away. “How about vampires?”

“Vampires, I know.”

“Ever faced one down alone?”

“No.”

“Been kidnapped and tortured by a truly psychotic one for a week?”

An indrawn gasp diverts my attention to Miguel. He looks horrified.

“How about a primordial evil? Even know what that is?”

“I don’t.”

“Are you a religious man, Fife?”

“I’m Catholic.”

“Then you know God created the Earth in six days. He made the dark on one day and the light on another. This thing was one of the first monsters created in the dark. It’s older than the light. Its kind created vampires. It’s called a blood demon. I faced that down. You haven’t, right?”

His lips pinch together. Nope, he sure hasn’t.

“I’ve faced all of those things and lived, so trust me when I say if you show even a slight hint of fear, they have you. There’s no escape. I can say that with definitive authority.”

“How is it a mere slip of girl escaped all of those things with her life?” he asks, his voice quiet.

I smile my most evil smile, the one full of teeth. “I’m a Crane.”

“This is getting us nowhere,” Miguel interrupts. “If you can’t stop the pissing match, then you can leave, Downs.”

He sits back, but we are aware there’s so much more he wants to know.

“Mattie, can you tell me everything you can about the Master of the City?”

“How about I write it down for you? I can even draw her, but the most important thing we learned is that something is in the city, and it’s hunting. Something that scares a thousand-year-old master vampire. The emotion was there and gone so fast, even I might wonder if I read it right, but I’m sure of it. She said the PD picked up the body of a shifter this morning that was torn apart. It was attacked by the same creature stalking the vampires.”

Dan takes over from there, and I listen intently as the two of them go back and forth with questions. I answer if directly asked, but I’m still with Evan on this. The police don’t need to be brought into it yet. They’re only going to hinder us because of their rules and regulations. I will die on that hill.

A thought occurs, and I pluck my phone out of my purse to call my sister. She picks up on the third ring.

“Hey.” She sounds tired.

“Not sleeping, still?”

“Eh, I’ll nap later. What’s up?”

“Can you tell me if any of the Hunters in Chicago requested help with anything having to do with vampires or creatures that might be able to kill a vampire?”

“A shifter can.”

“I know that, but that’s not what this thing is. It’s racking up corpses. Up until today, it was just vampires, but it’s gone and killed a shifter. If there are Hunters already tracking this thing, maybe we can help each other.”

“I’m not sure. I’ll check with your mom. She’ll know right off, or at least be able to look at the database. I still have another class, so I’ll text her.”

“Thanks. I’ll call Mama later to see if she found anything.”

When I disconnect the call, everyone is staring at me.

Dan smiles. “I should have thought of that.”

“What?” Miguel asks.

“The Hathaway Foundation,” I tell him. “You have access to our database as well.”

“It’s a resource we haven’t fully taken advantage of.”

“That’s on you. It’s there for everyone to use. We do expect it to be updated by everyone who uses it, though.”

“Probably why it’s underutilized. Police don’t like to share information that could come back to bite us later in court.”

“This unit will never go to court, so it’s moot.”

“True.” He shrugs. It’s as much of a fight to get law enforcement to use the resources offered to them as it is to get Hunters on board. One day, they’ll all come together. Just not anytime soon.

“Ready to be grilled?” he asks and takes out his phone.

“Sure.” I’ll answer his questions, but I’ll keep most of my observations to myself until I get a handle on what’s really going on.

Dan wraps an arm around me, and we both settle in for a long session of Q and A.

The next few hours are spent doing just that.

Pointless, but necessary to the police, even if they shouldn’t be involved yet.

My investigation will start once I get access to the vampires’ bodies.

Until then, I can play nice with the police for Dan’s sake.

Mostly.