“There was a glutted vampire in the trap house,” Took said conversationally. “Fat as a tick and didn’t even know his own name.”
The reminder quenched the flare of superiority before it could take root. Most vampires sustained themselves with a Kiss—a sip of blood from a lover’s ripe vein. Some couldn’t stop or didn’t want to and drained their lovers to dry veins as they chased the sweet-rot tang of death even as it rotted them out like hollow logs, flesh and fang preserved but whatever made them people instead of beasts sloughed off.
Human or vampire, both had members they wouldn’t hold up as the best of their species.
“So I shouldn’t look down on them,” Madoc acknowledged.
“No, you should understand why they’re angry,” Took corrected him. “And afraid, which is worse.”
“Good point,” Madoc allowed. He pulled a hip flask out of his jacket, unscrewed the cap, and poured whiskey-thinned blood into his coffee. The blood had more kick, for him, than the whiskey, but the mossy smoke taste was something he could still savor. He raised his eyebrows at Took and tipped the flask in his direction. “Do you want a shot?”
Took swallowed and swiped his tongue over his lower lip. The hunger in his eyes was for blood, but hunger wasn’t so far from lust for vampires. His eyes would dilate the same way if Madoc kissed him, and the points of his fangs dimpled the lush curve of his lower lip. Or not. Madoc roughly pinned the fantasy down and shoved it back into its place. He’d allow them in his sheets, with a warm body under him or his own cold hand on his cock, but that was all. The first time Madoc offered more than that, he’d been rejected. Took had picked chaste friendship and a breathing lover instead, and the last time he’d lost even the friendship.
That old sluggish pain sank its fangs into Madoc, but it was a welcome distraction from the heavy tug of his balls. Love, as he’d found out before, was no excuse to be a fool.
“I doubt you’ll find another willing offer in this town,” Madoc said as he withdrew the flask and recapped it. “But suit yourself. So go on. Why take the case?”
He took a drink. The coffee was hot enough to burn his tongue and scald his throat with a brief sting before the aftertaste of blood laved it away.
Took wrapped his hands around his mug and looked past Madoc’s shoulder, toward the front of the diner. “I might as well explain to you and your new partner.”
The bell over the door rattled as someone shoved it open. Madoc didn’t need to look around to know it was Lawrence. There could well be other women in town who wore Chanel perfume, but he doubted that any of them would carry the faint, sickly sweet smell of ichor on their breath. That was easy. He was more interested in how Took knew, as far as he was aware, that they hadn’t set eyes on each other in the station.
“Are you sure it’s her?” he asked.
Took absently reached up and rubbed his throat. The scar was still raised and pink from exposure to the sun—almost raw. It should have healed by now. Not just from the sun’s blisters, but the scars themselves should have faded. Vampires scarred, but even holy water would heal eventually. It just took blood and time.
“There are a few vampires who work in town,” Took said. His eyes stayed focused over Madoc’s shoulder as he talked, faster as the click of Lawrence’s heels got closer. “But they keep a low profile. Anyone they bite on the regular? They keep a lower one.”
Madoc glanced around as Lawrence reached the table. True to his advice, she still wore the low-scooped top that flashed her bite. Like any sleight of hand, it was less impressive once you knew how it was done.
“She also flashed Nick her badge,” Took added as he lifted his coffee to inhale the bitter steam. “That cinched it.”
Madoc slid to the side to give Lawrence room in the booth. She hesitated for a moment, her attention distracted by the men at the bar, and then made the same assessment that Madoc had. The local militia would drink themselves stupid before they worked up to direct action. At least they would tonight. Lawrence sat down on the edge of the bench, careful to leave room for the Holy Spirit between his thigh and hers, and nodded stiffly across the table.
“You must be Agent Bennett,” she said as she pulled the plate toward her. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Agent Bennett is just about to explain how he ended up in Appleton,” Madoc said. He took another drink of his coffee and licked his lips, just to see if Took’s gaze would flicker down. It did. “Go on. Tell us Dom Waring is innocent.”
Lawrence paused, her fork sunk tine-deep in cream, and spluttered an indignant “What?”
“She was a member of the task force that took Dom down,” Madoc said. “So was I.”
“I’m aware of that. I did read the files on the case,” Took pointed out with a flicker of irritation, but he controlled it. He reached over, picked up the salt, and unscrewed the top of it with a gritty sound. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I said that the family thinks he’s innocent, that VINE framed Dominic, not that I agreed with them.”
He added a heavy dose of salt to his coffee. “I just think that it’s possible you missed something.”
Lawrence put her fork down with a distinct click. “Dominic Waring murdered five families, breathing and not. Some of the bodies still haven’t been found, will probably never be found to be laid to rest or raised again.” She tucked her hair back behind her ear with an impatient swipe of her fingers. Her voice was clipped and sharp with resentment as she pushed on. “Do you really think we didn’t check everything, look in every dirty corner that we could find? We had forensic evidence, eyewitness sightings… we even got the Nations to agree to let a manhunt cross the borders onto their territory because the evidence against Waring was overwhelming. Or did you somehow miss all that?”
It was a good question. Until today, Madoc had assumed that Took had quarantined himself away from anything to do with VINE or kidnapping. Otherwise it was hard to imagine how a man whose life had been his work had managed to stay on the sidelines for so long.
Except, of course, he apparently hadn’t.
“You made a compelling case,” Took agreed with her. He took a drink of salt-seasoned coffee and grimaced as he choked it down. “It doesn’t mean you didn’t miss anything.”
Lawrence sniffed and sat back. “Something you’d have caught, I suppose?”
“Maybe,” Took said. “I mean, it’s something I did catch. So….”
