Blood's Shadow: The Lycanthropy Files, Book 3 Page 10

  Now Morena did something outside of her usual behavioral repertoire—she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m here to personally see how the investigation is progressing. The Council has some doubt that you have the situation under control, Gabriel.”

  “The Council or two of its members?”

  “Make your best guess.”

  Here was that game again. “Dimitri and Cora?” I asked. “Not that it matters much who it is. Tell them I can’t make Garou process the evidence faster, but we do have a couple of leads.”

  “Yes, yes, I know the Young Bloods and Purists have come forward to claim the murders, but do you think they’re responsible?”

  I wondered at her strategy—why were we having this conversation in front of Lonna, and what was the true reason for her being here? I chose my words carefully. “I won’t know until I talk to them. I have another lead, but I’m still pursuing it,” I said, thinking of Selene’s “friend” at the pub. The way Selene had talked, he had been at the murder scene. Although I didn’t think he’d done it—if he was a killer, he would have finished me off behind the West Port Inn—I knew he must have seen something. The problem was getting to him without spooking Selene or putting her in danger. Maybe Morena’s kidding would cause her to let down her guard with me.

  “Care to share with the class?” Morena asked. Lonna coughed, probably to hide a laugh.

  “It’s delicate.”

  Morena turned to Lonna. “Well, Mrs. Marconi-Fortuna, give me a tour so I can tell the others I’ve checked things out thoroughly.”

  “There’s not much to see, unfortunately,” Lonna said. “It’s a typical medical facility with offices, patient rooms, labs, and equipment.”

  “What about the applications for the first batch of test subjects?” I asked.

  Lonna raised her eyebrows at me, and I guessed there was something she needed to tell me, but which Morena didn’t need to know. “We’re still processing them. There’s a lot of information in each of them. Besides, it’s confidential medical information.”

  “Please,” Morena scoffed, her tone sarcastic, not pleading. “Remember, this is a special case, and you’re outside the normal rules and jurisdiction for protection of health information. I’d like to see them.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s proprietary information.”

  “No, the proprietary information is what you’re going to do to cure people of their lycanthropy. The subjects are not.”

  Lonna fidgeted with the pen again and looked at me imploringly. I understood how she felt—Morena always denied having wizard ancestry, but she was able to put incredible emotional pressure on the people she interrogated.

  I decided to intervene. “Let’s allow them some more time to process the charts, and then they can prepare a report.” Because nothing entices a bureaucrat like the promise of a report.

  “Very well, then, you may now show me around Mrs. Marconi-Fortuna.”

  “If you would give me a moment with Gabriel,” Lonna said. “We need to finish our meeting. I’m sure Selene will be happy to show you around.”

  I had to admire Lonna for standing up to Morena.

  “There’s something you need to know about the application files,” Lonna said after she’d called Selene to come collect Morena and the two of them had left for their tour.

  “Is this office warded?” I asked. “We can hear through walls to a certain distance.”

  “Oh? I wasn’t aware of that. Is that only those of you who are born with CLS or all of us?”

  “Apparently the development of our abilities isn’t as straightforward as I’d thought. We’re dealing with a strange mix of science and legend here, and I’m still sorting out what’s what.”

  She nodded. “I’d appreciate any information you can give me. If there are different stages to lycanthrope development beyond the initial change and adjustment, it could impact our process.”

  I hadn’t thought of that, but I also doubted any vaccine lycanthropes would be at a stage of development where it would be a problem, all of them having been changed in the last two years or so.

  “Right. About those applications.”

  Lonna bit her lip. “I can show you most of them, but one’s missing.”

  “They’re supposed to be electronic.”

  “I’m aware of that. We got them, and I printed them all out, but the sixth was stolen from my office on Tuesday night.”

  “And the original uploaded copies?”

  “I’m getting to that. When I went to download it again, it was corrupted. Iain is working on it from his end, as are we, but…” She turned her hands palm-up.

  “I see. And there was no scent to suggest who might have been here, killed the security guards, and stolen the file.”

  “None.”

  “That suggests someone different from whoever killed LeConte. By the way, may I see his office? Is Garou finished with it?”

  “No, he said to leave it alone until they’ve processed the evidence in case they need to follow up on anything or gather more.”

  “That’s fine, I’ll—oh no.”

  “What?”

  I’d just remembered my initial encounter with Selene that morning. “Reine is here to do something Max asked her to do. I bet it has something to do with the blood. I need to find her.” I stood. “Do you know where the security guards were killed? She’ll either be there or in LeConte’s office.”

  “They were killed downstairs in the blood storage lab before being moved to the CT room.” She shuddered. “Somehow all the vials exploded. It looked like something out of a horror movie.”

  “Whose blood have you gathered?”

  “It was a project of Otis’s. He asked for us and other lycanthropes to volunteer samples for genetic analysis. He’d even contacted the Council, but I don’t know if any of them came through.”

  I vaguely remembered something about the request, but I was away on assignment in France at the time. “Was any of yours down there?”

  The look she gave me called me stupid and some other things lost in translation, but I got the gist. “No, I don’t give my blood to anyone, not after what happened at the wizard compound.”

  I nodded. “I don’t blame you, although there shouldn’t be anyone practicing blood magic beyond what’s happening here.”

  “As far as we know.”

  “I need a list of the people he collected samples from.”

  “The paper copy was in his office, and Garou has his laptop. We haven’t been able to determine what’s missing from his files since we can’t get in there.”

  The situation got worse with every piece of information. “I can’t do anything about that right now, but I need to get to Reine before she corrupts any possible evidence. I’ll check LeConte’s office, and you go to the lab. Call my mobile if you find her, and I’ll do the same.”

  “Okay, but it might take a minute for me to get down there, see if she’s in the lab, and get back up to the first floor. There’s no signal down in the vault.”

  I hoped Selene had the good sense to steer Morena away from the crime scenes during their tour. Knowing that some Council members had donated blood for genetic research added a new level of pressure and scrutiny for me to figure out who was behind all this, and if there was more than one culprit. What Lonna had told me about the lab chilled me in particular—it sounded like there was magic involved, which meant a wizard. When wizards went rogue, bad things happened, as Lonna had experienced, and blood could be used to control.

  LeConte’s office was locked up tight, and I couldn’t smell anyone in there, even beyond the overpowering stench of clotted and dried blood. I told my stomach to stop turning, although it wasn’t surprising since I had an inner predator, not an inner scavenge
r. I’d heard tales of were-hyenas but never had the desire to meet one.

  Not here, I texted Lonna and headed toward the stairs.

  She’s down here, the reply said.

  The last time I’d approached the basement, it had been from the other set of stairs, so it took me a moment to orient myself to where the CT machine room was. Lonna met me at the vault door.

  “This way,” she said. “I tried to stop her, but she said she would only talk to you.”

  “What is she doing?”

  “I have no idea.”

  The scent of blood led me to the blood storage lab, which was about the size of a large walk-in closet. The door stood open, and it looked like a modern art painting with solid reddish-brown splotches in the middle and splashes and spots of it above and below. The light inside came not from the fluorescent fixture on the ceiling, but from Reine herself. She glowed white, and her curls seemed to blow in a breeze only she could feel. A static sensation emanated from her, and all of the small hairs on my body stood on end. I shifted to see if I could stop the distracting tingling sensations on my most private parts.

  “Reine, Milady?” I asked quietly.

  She un-illuminated, leaving a black shadow in my vision where she’d been. Before she moved, she looked like a photo negative of herself—dark and sinister—and I suspected it was to remind me how powerful she was and that I needed to keep her on my side, like getting the Fey to do anything they didn’t want to do was possible or advisable.

  “Ah, Wolf-man, you’ve arrived. I thought it wouldn’t take you long. But why did you bring her? I told her I only wanted to deal with you.”

  The way she said “her” indicated Lonna might be in trouble if she stayed. She got the hint.

  “I’ll be in my husband’s office if you need me,” Lonna said with a significant look at Reine. Then she strolled off.

  I took a deep breath to still the anxiety in my gut. Although Lonna was powerful in her own right with her wizard and werewolf blood, I doubted she’d win a head-to-head contest with Reine. I would have to warn Max that tension brewed between the two women.

  “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?” I asked once we were alone.

  Reine snapped her fingers, and the overhead light came on. Refrigerated cabinets stood along the walls. Most of them held empty metal racks behind intact glass doors. The racks in the cabinets to the left lay at awkward angles, and shards of glass from the shattered doors sparkled under the light. The dried blood made the white doors and metal counter look rusted, and she stood about an inch off the floor so her white slippers wouldn’t touch the flaky black mess. Again, my stomach turned, and I told it to still, but the black and white photograph of my father’s body blown to bits forced its way into my memory. As a child, my imagination had colored it in even better than the lurid brightness Technicolor had brought to the movies.

  “When you build something to look like a castle, you can expect unpleasant things to happen in the dungeon,” Reine said. She floated out of the lab and stood beside me, her feet on the ground. “And the resemblance to Wolfsheim’s castle is uncanny. I had no trouble finding my way around.”

  “Wolfsheim?” I asked. “I’ve heard that name. Was his castle in Germany or Austria?”

  “No,” she said. “It was just a few miles from here. The ruins are still out in the countryside.”

  “Why was there a—you know what, never mind. What is the purpose of your visit?” I knew that her kind would reveal their motives in their own time, but with Morena wandering around—and I had no doubt she would bully Selene into taking her places she didn’t need to go—our time was limited.

  “Tell me what you notice, and then I’ll reveal what I see,” she said.

  I forced myself to study the scene objectively and not with the sense that the blood inside had belonged to two people who were now dead and possibly to many more who were still alive but likely in danger now.

  “The door is interesting because although there are splashes of blood, there are no drips, like they landed there and dried instantly. Also the color. The blood should have darkened by now in this humidity.”

  “Ah, very good, Wolf-man. What else?”

  “It’s difficult to tell without the bodies, but it seems the vials to the left exploded with enough force to take the doors with them, but I would need to see the pattern of wounds to confirm the direction the glass shattered. I don’t recall seeing scratches or other marks on the guards’ skin.”

  “Good, so you’re not assuming the blood in the cabinets exploded, broke the glass, and killed the guards.”

  “No, although I feel that might be a likely scenario. What could make the blood do that?”

  “Magic,” she said, as though it was obvious.

  “Magic,” I repeated. “Tell me what you see.”

  “Like you, I noticed the lack of drips on the door, like there was something that congealed and preserved the blood right away.” She gestured to the cabinets. “The blood is a chorus, each person’s sings with its own tone and melody that says where it came from and what it is.”

  “It sounds like you’re hearing the DNA.”

  “Whatever you want to call it. The blood from the two guards—a double bass line, boringly human, but faint like it was stifled before it was spilled. As for what’s in the cabinets, it is theirs as well.” She looked at me. “There are no others. Once your detective Garou does his analysis, he will find that the blood exploded outward from the guards in a directed manner, destroying the empty vials in the cabinet.”

  “What can make a man’s body explode, especially in only one direction from the throat?”

  She looked up at me with an expression of pity. “There are more things in Heaven and on Earth, Horatio…”

  “A Fey who quotes Shakespeare. Be still my heart.”

  She laughed her wind-chime laugh. “It’s more interesting than saying you don’t want to know.”

  “But I do want to know.”

  She gestured to the mess. “Max could have told you. Blood magic has many forms. Some can use it to control. Others to destroy. And as for the quote, William was a dear.”

  “So you’re older than you look.”

  “As are you. And we both have our secrets. You just don’t know as many of yours. Now leave me. I will seal the blood so that it won’t hurt poor Maximilian again, and I’ll do the same upstairs.”

  “Could you wait until our detective finishes what he needs to do?”

  “No, it is necessary now. Sealing the blood will allow it to rest, which will allow the spirits attached to it to be at peace if nothing else stands in their way. Plus, I need to remove the contamination from Max’s wards around the building and land—his using blood magic, even in small amounts, damaged the spells and allowed the intruders to get in. Nothing I do will interfere with the detective’s work.”

  “I trust you,” I said, realizing I did.

  “Oh, do you?” She flashed me a wicked grin, and before I realized her intention, she pulled my head to hers and kissed me on the lips. She tasted of honeysuckle and sweet wine, and the passion she ignited flowed through me in golden waves. The static came back, and I pulled her to me to quell the tingling that became a burning need.

  I barely heard Selene’s “Gabriel, oh!” before Reine pushed me away with a mischievous laugh.

  “That’ll teach you,” she said. “Remember, my kind is never to be trusted. Nor are most others.” With a chuckle that lingered in the air, she disappeared, and I turned to face Selene.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Don’t be a coward, Son,” a ghostly voice said.

  “I’m not,” I replied through clenched teeth. It was embarrassing enough to have been caught by Selene, who stood at the end of the hallway, her mouth open, one hand over it. Her blue eyes were so wide I could see the whites clea
rly. But that the specter who was likely my father had also found me with my hand in the Fey cookie jar burned any fear I might have had of him away.

  “What. The hell. Is that?” Selene asked and pointed a trembling finger over my left shoulder.

  I turned but couldn’t see anything other than the blood-splotched door.

  “Tell me what you see,” I said. I clenched a fist to give my frustration somewhere to go—why could I only hear and not see him?

  She backed up one shaky step. “It’s a man. A bloody man. In uniform, maybe second World War.”

  “I’m going to come toward you slowly. Tell me if he follows.”

  “No, no Gabriel, please stay there. It obviously wants you, not me.”

  “What if I told you he’s not dangerous? He’s…” I took a deep breath. “He’s my father, and I’m trying to find out what happened to him. You’re right about the uniform—he died in World War Two.”

  A chill breeze stirred my hair and turned my cheeks cold. Then the relative warmth of the basement hallway returned.

  “He’s gone,” she said and sagged against the wall.

  Remembering her tendency to faint, I hurried toward her, but she waved me away. I stopped a few feet from her.

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’m fine, just fine. It’s not like I can get my blood warmed by a white-gold fairy, and I don’t have any ghostly parents following me around.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck to release the tension from my jaw clenching, a stress habit I’d never managed to break. “I was hoping you hadn’t seen that.”

  “The woman practically glows, Gabriel. Actually, she does glow. How was I going to miss it?” Then she stopped and studied me. “But why would you care if I saw it or not? It’s not like you and I have a relationship where it would matter.”

  Damn these Americans and their directness. But this was a side of her I hadn’t seen, and I stepped closer, fascinated by the emotion sparkling in her eyes. Could she be jealous? My mind ticked through the potential ramifications and how I could use them to my advantage.