Someone had let the car in. Was a vampire in it? Or was it a witch who used their powers to open the large iron gates? I couldn’t ask. I didn’t want to take my bleeding finger out of my mouth.
The car was a stock-standard Chevrolet. The windows were tinted so I couldn’t see in, but it was hardly a vampire’s style of transport. At least not the ones I’d seen.
Leon’s shoulders relaxed and he stepped to the side. “You can take your finger out of your mouth. Blood doesn’t bother me.”
I took it out and blood beaded again, so I jammed it against my jeans as we walked back toward the house. “Who is it?”
“I’m not sure, but he’s only a human.”
We stopped as the car pulled to an abrupt halt. The door opened and a man with thick gray hair and a stern expression stepped out. He was wearing a casual tan-colored jacket, blue shirt and black slacks. He held two folders in his hand.
He haddetectivewritten all over him. He reminded me of my father, except my dad was thin and dark-haired. The man slammed the door closed.
“Hello,” I called out.
He halted, his eyes widening at the sight of me. I was probably looking disheveled from lack of sleep. His eyes moved from me to Leon and back again.
He scowled. “Who are you?”
“I’m Amy and this is Leon.”
“Lester.” He held out his hand for Leon to shake then turned to me. I lifted my hand but realized it was still bleeding, so I apologized and used my other hand in an awkward back grip to shake his.
A vision of bodies covered in blood, sprawled on the ground, struck my mind and hurled the breath from my lungs. I yanked my hand back from him. The only question burning through my mind was, did he find them like that?
“What’s your last name, Amy?”
“That would be none of your concern, Lester.” Karson appeared at the door. He stepped down the stairs, flicking his eyes to Leon. “Thank you, Leon, I can handle it from here.”
Leon bobbed his head and walked back around the corner.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?” Karson handed me a plaster without taking his eyes from Lester as he took hold of my elbow, guiding us into the foyer. We halted not far inside the door.
Lester’s eyes narrowed. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing turning a fucking drug addict into a vampire? Do you know how many goddamn deaths that thing has caused? We have bodies stacked like shredded sardines.” As he shoved the folders at Karson, I noticed half a dozen small, circle-shaped scars on the back of his hand.
“I can assure you.” Karson remained remarkedly calm as he took the folders. “I did no such thing.”
Monique and Michael came down the stairs. Karson darted his eyes to my cut and scowled.
“What seems to be the catalyst of your angst, Lester?” Michael asked, the epitome of smooth as he handed me a white hanky.
“Amelia, perhaps you might like to go upstairs and sort your injury out,” Karson ordered.
“No, sorted,” I said mildly, holding up my freshly wrapped finger.
Lester shifted on his feet. “My angst, Michael, is I have spent the last two fucking nights cleaning up bodies. Some drug-addicted crazy bitch wiped out a whole swarm of people. Trying to keep it out of the press, trying to placate the powers that want all your fucking heads.”
Monique and Michael looked between each other.
Karson arched a brow. “Perhaps you could contain your language in the presence of ladies.”
Lester gritted his teeth and red flushed his cheeks. “Oh yes, because fucking language is more fucking important when people are beingfuckingmurdered!”
“He has a point,” I muttered under my breath. Karson threw me a look that would have curled hairs. I merely shrugged.
He blew out a breath and opened the folder. I edged closer and peered over his arm. It looked like a war zone. There were bodies and blood everywhere. Necks were torn into like a pack of wolves had attacked them. Blank eyes forever frozen. One boy with a knife tattoo on his neck had his stomach torn to shreds, intestines gurgling from his ravaged body like hot dogs. Beside him, lying in a pond of red, was a detached head, his mouth open, a red tattooed teardrop below his eye like the image was a dire premonition. Another lay face down, naked, and he had a wooden handle protruding from his blood-covered ass. I staggered back, turning my head away and fighting not to gag.
“Those ones we found decomposing under a bridge.” Lester ran his hand through his hair. “Probably killed the night prior.”
