“Trust me, there are ways.” And Garrett wasn’t above using them.
Once Garrett got his hands on the vampire, he’d force him to cooperate. He’d make damn sure of it, for everyone’s sake.
Chapter 16
Garrett walked down the dark, cavernous hallway that led to a subterranean area of the hospital where Damon Greystone was being held. It had been built back in the early eighties; right after vampires came out and about. The mage unit sat several feet below the main level.
After he crossed through a turnstile, he came to an enormous scanner and swiped his badge across the glass. A series of beeps echoed through the hall. Then, a gate opened, and he found himself enclosed in what felt like an enormous freezer. His breath fanned around him as he walked, the temperature dropping a few degrees with every step. The only way to revive the undead was to keep them on ice. Nowadays, most medical facilities housed extra blood and plasma for vampires in need of transfusions.
Once he made his way to an area of glass-paneled cubicles, he searched for room number seven. He pushed aside the cloth partition and found Denopoulos and Teague on either side of Greystone’s bed. Teague reclined back in his chair with his feet up on the edge of the bed. He rested his horns against the wall for balance. They both turned when they saw him.
“Sorry, I’m late.” Garrett decided to keep the part about sharing dinner and a movie with Gillian to himself. She occupied way too many of his thoughts as it was. He glanced at his phone, and his gut tightened. No service. It didn’t surprise him down here. What if Gillian tried to call? At least he knew his partner would keep her safe. He could’ve sent her on this fact-finding mission, but he wanted to be the one to look the vampire responsible for trancing Gillian in the face.
“No worries. We were just getting started,” Denopoulos said, rubbing his hands together. Bundled up in a black bomber jacket and a ski hat, at least he came dressed for the occasion. His heart went out to the guy. As a human, he felt the cold far more intensely than Garrett or Teague did.
Garrett glanced over at Greystone. The vampire appeared different than their first encounter at the hotel. For one, his dark blond hair stuck up in all directions, dirty and still caked with dried blood. And he looked leaner and far less cocky than he had the night of the bust. Garrett had to suppress a smile.
He supposed getting staked in the chest by a hundred-and-twenty-pound female could lower anyone’s cocky meter a notch or two. Garrett set his briefcase down on the floor, pulled out the case file, and set it on the tray table. “Why don’t you start by telling us why you were in the penthouse at the W hotel? Who put you in touch with Kurt Lawrence?” Garrett wanted to make him pay for attacking Gillian, but he needed some answers first. “Are you part of the Du Sang Brotherhood?”
Greystone remained silent, staring at the wall, while monitors beeped all around them.
“Let me remind you that it’s in your best interest to talk,” Denopoulos said, angling his head to the bag of blood intravenously being pumped into Greystone’s veins. “I’m afraid the Council doesn’t take kindly to vampires who try to bond with women against their will. They’ll vote against you and send your ass straight to Hellios.”
The mage prison for the criminally insane, and for those who’d committed heinous acts deemed a threat to society, sat at the ridge of a jagged precipice. The only way out was in a body bag. Such a fate seemed justified in Garrett’s opinion.
Chair legs slammed on the concrete floor. Teague leaned in close; his horns elongated and flared red. “The Chimera guarding the perimeter eat pretty boys like you for lunch and grind up your bones into soup.”
Greystone flinched. “I have no attorney here. I’m not answering your questions, and the petty threats are beneath you.” His words belied the fear in his eyes.
“Why not let me try?” Garrett snatched a picture of one of the dead girls from his file and held it up. “Do you happen to know her, Mr. Greystone? Her name is Serena Benson. Her body was found two weeks ago on the seventh of October. I’m curious what you were doing on that chilly Sunday evening?”
“I’ve never seen her before. I was home alone finishing some work,” Greystone muttered. “I’m a commercial real estate broker.” Well, that explained how he could afford entry into the Brotherhood. From what Garrett had gleaned from his research, the fees were astronomical.
“This was someone’s daughter or sister we’re talking about, before her life was snuffed out and her body disposed of like a piece of trash.” Garrett let out a pent-up breath and tried to keep the urge to punch the vampire square in the face in check. Every moment they wasted with this Neanderthal was a moment they could be searching for Brooke Corey.
“Why would I know who she is?” Greystone muttered, looking bored.
Denopoulos cursed under his breath, scratched his beard, and then shoved one of the more graphic photos under Greystone’s nose. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because she was found with all the blood drained from her body in a way that only a vampire could manage, and then thrown in a ditch right off of Frank Sinatra Boulevard, not far from the W hotel.” He flipped through the file before looking up. “Isn’t that place one of your hangouts? Did you hit on Serena at the bar and then get a little rough, maybe do a little trancing when she told you to go to hell?”
“Can anyone verify your whereabouts that night? Perhaps a colleague could corroborate your alibi?” Garrett asked, moving to sit on the edge of his bed.
“I’m not answering any more questions without my attorney present.” Greystone’s hand hovered on the call button for the nurse. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, as much as I’d love to continue with this conversation, I tire easily and need my rest.”
“We can place you at the scene at the time of the murder. Couple that with trancing, assault, and attempted blood bonding without consent, and you’re looking at a life sentence, my friend.” Garrett looked from Denopoulos to Teague, hoping one of them had an ace in their hip pocket because so far, they weren’t getting jack from this piece of shit. Denopoulos shrugged and Teague only lifted his eyebrows. “It’s in your best interest to start answering our questions. We’re running out of patience, and if you don’t start talking, we’re prepared to transfer you to the infirmary in Hellios.” Okay so maybe he was bluffing, but Greystone didn’t need to know that. “And believe me, it’s a lot different than the penthouse suite at the W.”
Greystone sat up, suddenly looking alert. “I didn’t murder anyone. I was just there to appreciate the company of a female for the night. No one was supposed to get hurt.”
Teague stood and took a menacing step closer to Greystone until he was forced to look up at the demon’s imposing frame. “Were you attempting to murder Gillian Howe? Or were you just trying to ‘enjoy her company’ against her will?” he demanded in a voice that grumbled like the bowels of hell.
“Gillian,” Greystone repeated. His lip curled into a sneer. “The bitch who staked me?”
“Watch your mouth,” Garrett warned, his fangs extending from his lips. “She can identify you, which puts you in a tight spot. Imagine how that scenario will play out to the Council with the case we have against you. I think it will go something like this, ‘were you attempting to murder the young lady and throw her in a ditch after you turned her into a blood slave?’”
“No! None of it’s true.”
Denopoulos pulled a plastic bag containing a signet ring out of an envelope marked as evidence. “What about this little beauty? Does it belong to you?” Before Greystone could respond, Denopoulos turned it over, and his lips twisted into a smile. “What a coincidence, it looks like your initials are engraved.”
“When your boss discovers that you were talking to us, he's going to take care of you in a big way.” Teague ran his finger across his throat. “But we can help you by offering you a deal to keep you safe from him and out of Hellios. I’m going to ask you again, how did you get involved with the Brotherhood? And don’t skip over even the smallest detail.”
