Ah. These must be the SIB agents currently assigned to Crystal Lake—every sanctuary town has at least two agents assigned to it, depending on its size and the threat levels it’s facing.
“It’s OK,” I tell him. To the agents who’ve stormed closer, I say, “Can I at least get him out of the alley?”
“That’s against protocol,” the woman sneers. The guy next to her has the decency to look like he feels bad about it but makes no move to go against his partner. Just what Jared needs. Two fucking jobsworths getting in his face while he’s freshly traumatised. “Keep an eye on them while I take a look at the body,” she tells her partner.
“Here.” The vampire holds out a monogrammed handkerchief towards Jared. The dark-red colour of the fabric is an unfortunate colour choice given the situation. “I can’t let you leave, but at least you can clean up a little.” I take the handkerchief and offer it to Jared, who accepts it wordlessly.
The bitch, sorrywitch, in charge storms back down the alley. “Fear demon attack. You know what that means. Call everyone in,” she snaps. Garrett curses while the vampire immediately pulls out his phone. “You.” She glares at Jared. “What kind of demon are you?” First, how did a supe who can’t even tell what kind of demon someone is end up an SIB agent? Second, how fucking dare she suggest Jared is behind this.
“Back off,” I snarl. “Can’t you see you’re upsetting him? Jared didn’t do this.” My head is still throbbing from my vision, and I need to get my mate out of here before these idiots push him too far.
“Then he won’t mind answering my questions.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” Garrett says.
“And who the hell are you to tell me how to do my job?” Is this woman for real? How can she call herself an agent, let alone one assigned to Crystal Lake, and not know who Garrett, the Alpha and fucking supernatural council member, is?
“He’s an insight demon,” Garrett explains, ignoring her pathetic posturing. “Get your vampire to check.”
The vampire in question rejoins us, done with his phone calls. “I’ll need a drop of your blood,” he explains to Jared apologetically.
“Fine.” Jared shoves his arm towards the vamp. “Just do it quickly.”
With more care than I expected given how they’ve been treating Jared so far, the vampire takes Jared’s offered hand in his, pulling it up to his mouth. “You’ll feel a slight pinch.” Jared steels his spine, then nods for him to go ahead while I grit my teeth at the thought of some stranger biting my mate. But the vampire doesn’t bite. He simply uses one of his elongated fangs to prick the tip of Jared’s index finger, then flicks his tongue out to taste the drop of blood. It’s the least invasive and most respectful way he could have gone about testing Jared’s blood, and the agent goes up a little in my estimation.
“Insight demon. Just like they said,” he confirms, stepping back.
“Fine. What were you doing here, sir?”
“I was waiting for Selene at the festival then I got a feeling something was wrong. I followed it here. That’s when I found her—the body,” he corrects himself.
“Do you always go running towards danger?” she asks.
“Why are you still treating him like a suspect? You know he’s not a fear demon—he’s not the one you’re looking for.”
She sniffs haughtily. “He could be an accomplice.”
Jared’s laughter startles us all. It’s nothislaugh though. This isn’t the warm, rich sound that fills my heart with joy. It’s empty. Hollow.
“Do you think this is funny, demon?” the witch snaps. Her colleague winces. It’s beyond impolite to refer to someone by their species, especially when you’re not of the same species.
“That you thinkIhelped The Raven? Yeah. I do.”
The Raven? Oh, that’s right. The human news started calling the fear demon terrorising London that because of the black feathers he left on the bodies.
“You’ve got it all wrong,” Garrett warns them. Why does it seem like he knows something I don’t? I know Jared couldn’t have done this, not just because he isn’t a fear demon but because he’s not a killer. But why did it sound like Jared meant accusing him specifically, not just the wrong kind of demon, was the mistake?
“You haven’t asked for my name.”
“What?”
“My name,” Jared repeats. “You’re agents, that means you can access the human internet off your phones, not just the supe network, right?”
“That’s none of your?—”
“Yes,” the vampire interrupts, earning a glare from his insufferable boss.
“My name is Jared Devlin. Look it up.”
