Blood and Sand Page 9
“Immortal?”
“Oh, we can be killed.” He had to smile. “But you might think of us as death-resistant.”
There was a long pause as they continued to slowly turn through the room. “You lied to me.”
“Not about everything.”
“Why can’t I remember the night we met? The first night?”
Slowly, he let his amnis creep up her arm, being careful not to use too much. “Do you feel that?”
“Yes. Please don’t—”
“I won’t take your memories away again. I already told you that. I was trying to protect you. I told your friend I would do my best to keep you safe, and I don’t break my promises. I was hoping you would stay out of this completely. I planted the suggestion for you to forget about Ivan, but you must have found his name anyway.”
“It was in my notes. I almost got sick. The first time I read his name. There was something about it.”
“It was my suggestion. But you’re very bright and very stubborn.”
“I’m not going to apologize for that.”
“I don’t expect you to.”
“What is it?” She glanced at their linked hands and he let his amnis dance along her skin. The tiny hairs along her arm reached toward him. “How do you do that?”
“What you’re feeling is called amnis by some of us. It’s an electrical current—energy, just like what fires in your brain and animates your nervous system. It runs under our skin.” He carefully pulled it back and used it to push the water away from their hands so a circle opened between them and he could see her face clearly. “It’s what connects me to my element. It’s what animates me. Amnis is what lets me alter human thought by affecting your cerebral cortex.”
“Short-term memory.” Her forehead was wrinkled in thought, and he knew he had tempted her curious nature.
“Among other things.”
“Speech?”
“Yes.”
“Consciousness?”
“Obviously.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Emotions?”
“Your emotions are your own. Vampires can’t influence those.” He let his eyes fall to their hands. “Other than by normal means, that is.”
Natalie pulled her hand away and the water fell, splattering on the ground until he swept it up and returned it to the happily gurgling fountain in the corner. “None of that.”
“You liked George well enough.” He was surprised by the stab of envy toward his human facade she had been so at ease with.
“George was a liar.”
He felt his fangs drop but was careful to conceal them from her. “No, he wasn’t. Only about his name because I thought you might recognize it.”
“Were you following me?” She was relentless. “Were you following me that night? Did you follow me after? Why bother meeting me in the bar? What was the point? Were you just messing with me?”
Why did the woman get under his skin so? Baojia stifled a growl. “I had an assignment. I needed to know more about you.”
“So, I’m an assignment?”
He couldn’t decipher her tone of voice. It was angry, but there was a hint of something…
“You have friends in my world—people I respect—who would like me to keep you safe. I have promised to do this. As I said before, I keep my promises.”
“Have a vampire keep me safe?” She threw up her hands, suddenly sounding resigned. “Have a vampire keep me safe from other vampires? I guess that makes sense, right? Or I’m going to wake up in the psychiatric hospital soon and this will all be over.”
The key was to appear as normal as possible. He knew it must have been a shock. He was still young enough to remember his own horror and incredulity when faced with what he had thought were only horror stories meant to terrify a child. The jiangshi of childhood nightmares had come to life on the streets of old San Francisco to kill his attackers and eventually claim him.
“Maybe you’d like to call Dez now.”
“Maybe you could tell me what all this has to do with those murdered women? It was a vampire who was killing them, wasn’t it? But I’m supposed to trust you?”
The frustration began to rise. “I think you should call Dez.”
“I think you should answer me!”
“Well I think—” He clenched his teeth to stop yelling. Why did she cause him to yell? In the car the night before, he’d thought Luis was going to drive off the road. He’d probably never heard Baojia raise his voice in anger. Or raise his voice, period. “I think lots of things. But right now, I want you to call Dez. She will be able to explain this better than I can. And you trust her. So why don’t we just call your friend so we can get this cleared up and get back to finding some answers about dead bodies turning up in the desert? That sound like a plan, Natalie?”
Her face was flushed and her eyes blazing, but at least she didn’t look scared anymore. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
“We can call from my house.”
“Nice try. We’ll use my office here.”
“Asshole.”
“Stubborn brat.”
“Kidnapper.”
He couldn’t stop the smile. “You could do this all night, couldn’t you?”
“Yep.” She spun around to stomp away, but then turned back. “I don’t know where your office is.”
The office in the house had been specially equipped for immortal use. There was a rotary phone with a speaker attachment and an old-fashioned answering machine.
“Wow. You guys are really into the retro thing, aren’t you?” Natalie eyed the phone with disdain.
“It’s our amnis. Because our energy is electrical in nature, we tend to short out more modern equipment. Old cars are okay, but new ones we need drivers for. Rotary phones are fine. Mobiles? Nope.”
“So that’s why you don’t [y y, b have a mobile phone.” She looked around. “Computer?”
He shook his head. “There is some voice-command software that an… associate of mine is working on that would enable our kind to use computers without breaking them, but it’s still in the trial stage. She was a bit of a computer nut as a human, so she has a hard time living without one.”
Natalie was still examining his office with a frown. “I thought you said you were in security. Surveillance. That kind of thing. How could you possibly… Oh, was that a lie, too?”
“Not a lie.” He opened a cabinet to reveal video monitoring equipment. “I have humans who set it up, then all the monitors are put behind insulated glass for me. I can see but not touch. It’s the hands-on work and intuition that I use the most. I’ve been doing security for a long time.”
He heard her pause. “How long?”
“Over one hundred twenty years.” Why did that suddenly seem so old? “And I’m relatively young for a vampire.”
“Wow.”
He looked over his shoulder so see her gaping at him. She might also have been checking out his ass. He tried not to laugh. Not bad for an old man, eh? “I told you I became a citizen a long time ago.”
“Are you really from San Francisco?”
“Yes. All that was true.” He lifted the phone and dialed the Kirbys’ number. “I told you I didn’t lie.”
“And why should I believe you?”
He raised an eyebrow as the phone began to ring.
She said, “I’m not being obnoxious or stubborn. Logically, what reason do I have to trust you? You have to see where I’m coming from.”
“I do.” He heard Matt pick up the phone. “And I respect your caution. It bodes well for your survival. Matt?”
“Baojia, is that you?” The man’s voice was frantic. “Dez is going out of her mind. Is Natalie okay? Please tell me she’s with you. Is she safe?”
At the sound of Matt’s voice, he saw tears well up in Natalie’s eyes and her shoulders relax as the underlying tension left the room. She collapsed in the chair behind his desk, taking a deep breath and covering her face.
“I�
�m here, Matt.” She swiped at the tears on her cheeks and rested her elbows on the desk, leaning forward and taking a deep breath. “I’m okay. Tell Dez I’m okay.” Then she met his eyes, and Baojia saw a seed of trust take root. “I think I’m gonna be okay.”
“So you do think it’s the same MO as the Juarez case.” Natalie was in full investigative mode on the phone with Dez, and Baojia found the whole experience of watching her while she took notes on the yellow legal pad… oddly stimulating.
Dez was talking through the speaker phone. “As soon as I learned about the existence of vampires, I had to think of Juarez. There was so much that never fit. Sure, some of the cases were solved, but it was such a weird pattern. And to have it go on for so long—”
“But there were a lot of theories, Dez. I’m still not sure that we’re necessarily dealing with a super—I feel like I’m on X-Files—supernatural murderer.” She doodled in the margins of the paper, small circles that grew into larger patterns. “I mean, it’s still possible that what we’re dealing with is human, as sick as it is.”
“It was odd to me that the Mexican authorities never devoted the kind of time and resources to the case that [he "18they ought.”
She lifted her shoulders, gesturing to her friend who wasn’t in the room. “Bribes? Back-door deals? Good ole boy network? A disgusting lack of concern for female victims?”
“Or amnis? Vampire influence? Powerful people not wanting to shed light on secrets?”
“It’s too soon to tell whether the murders in the desert are isolated incidents or something that could be linked to Juarez,” she said. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions that leave out other avenues of investigation.”
“I agree,” Baojia said quietly.
Natalie offered him a small smile and said, “Unfortunately, we may not be able to make any links until more women are murdered.”
“Or more bodies show up.”
She nodded. “It’s possible there are a lot more out there.”
Matt spoke up. “Baojia, have you asked Ernesto about this? Can he make inquiries?”
“If things were normal, these murders would give me the excuse to reach out to my peer in Mexico City the way I couldn’t with the Juarez case. That never affected us or our border; this does. But Rory is in charge right now, so I’m having to go through him.”
“Will he be as persistent as you?”
He hesitated, hating to speak ill of his sister’s mate, but he knew Matt would keep his mouth shut. “Probably not. He’s up to his neck in my job, and I don’t know how well he’s doing, to be honest. If I were still in charge in LA, this would have been dealt with a while ago.”
Natalie must have picked up on the subtext. She said, “So you’re on the outs with your boss… father… whatever. So he put your brother-in-law in charge, and officially you can’t do much, but you’re still the one with connections and the know-how, so your brother-in-law can’t do much either?”
Perceptive little thing. “In a nutshell, yes.”
“Ugh.” Her head fell back in the chair. “This is so much like dirty politics, it’s scary.”
Baojia muttered, “You have no idea.”
There was a curl of hair that kept falling into her face every time she took notes. She’d blow it away with a gust of air, then it would fall back into the exact same position. He wondered why she didn’t tie her hair back, but found he rather liked watching the stubborn lock of hair, even though it annoyed her.
Persistent and annoying. How apt.
She and Dez started going over facts again. He would have to find a way to get her notes for her. She seemed as bright as Dez reported, and Baojia could use any extra help on this case. Plus, if she kept busy with him, Natalie was far less likely to be off putting herself in the middle of dangerous situations she was unequipped to deal with. It would make his assignment to keep her safe far easier if she just stayed close.
She was repeating a list of names from memory when he reached over and tucked the errant curl behind her ear. She shot him a quick smile but then returned to her scribbling.
“Okay, if it is the same perpetrator as in Juarez, that means someone moved.” She turned to Baojia. “Is that something he would… I don’t know, need permission to do? Or would tell anyone?”
He nodded. “Theoretically, if a vampire moves into another’s territory, he should make the other vampire aware. Seek tacit permission, even if they live on the outskirts. The American Southwest is still very new and not as regulated as some other parts of the world. In this area, an im [s akirmortal wouldn’t necessarily have to swear any kind of allegiance, but he’d have to at least acknowledge the authority of whoever controlled the area.”
“So, if this guy was living in Juarez, but moved—”
“He would probably let Ivan know, since Ivan is the point man in that area for the cartel that controls Mexico. Or he’d tell Ernesto, if he lived on this side of the border.”
Natalie sat up straight. “Wait, cartel? As in drug cartel?”
“Something like that. It’s complicated.”
She frowned but turned back to her notes. “You’re explaining that later.”
He muttered under his breath as he started to pace the room. “Of course you think I am.”
“What does—?”
Dez’s voice broke through the line. “Listen, Natalie. I know you want to follow this story—and I think we all agree whoever is doing this has to be stopped—but can you accept that even if you find out the truth, you may never be able to publish the results?”
She snorted. “Why not?”
A heavy silence fell over the room and Baojia turned to her. “Are you serious?”
“Hey, whoever is killing these women—human or vampire—they deserve justice.” She stood to face him, arms crossed. “These girls deserve to have their killer put away. I’m not going to be part of a cover-up. Forget it.”
“When we find who this is, he will get justice. I’ll kill him myself, but if you publish this story—”
“What? You’re just going to kill him?”
His voice rose again. “That’s the way it works in our world.”
“You just decide? No courts. No trial.”
He pointed to her notes. “What kind of trial do you think this monster deserves? If you’re right and he’s killed over fifteen women—”
“The world deserves to know!”
“The world deserves nothing!” he roared. “Those girls deserve nothing. They are dead. They are past caring. And if you publish a story that exposes our kind to the world, then you will be dead, too. You will be ridiculed by your own press and then someone, somewhere, will come and kill you. I am not threatening; I am predicting, Natalie. And you cannot die. It is not acceptable.”
She had turned pale as a sheet so the freckles stood out on her face and the color drained from her pursed lips. Still, her eyes didn’t waver. “It’s my job to find the truth.”
Baojia stepped closer. “And it’s my job to keep you alive.”
He finally heard something from the other end of the line. Matt said, “Then the two of you better figure something out. You both want to stop this, so compromise. But Natalie, I have to second what Baojia was saying. If you publish this, someone will come for you. Most vampires around the world just want to live in peace and be left alone, but if they’re threatened, they will protect their interests. And they won’t take kindly to any human who tries to expose them. Do you think you’re the first to try?”
Baojia didn’t back away. He couldn’t. Despite the fear in her eyes, he saw the resolve, too. She had a mission—a clear one—and part of him envied her that. He was a soldier by nature; he needed a purpose. It was just Natalie Ellis’s bad luck that his current mission conflicted with hers, because he was going to keep the stubborn human alive, no matter how her behavior set him on edge. From the corner of his eye, he saw Luis push through the office door with a note. He [h aliveheld his hand out and the human
brought it to him.
Glancing down, he read
it quickly, knowing as he reached the end that things were only going to become more violent before this was over.
“Matt, Dez, we need to go.”
The anger fell from Natalie’s face and she looked at the note in his hand. “What’s wrong?”
“Another body’s been found in the desert. And this time the location is no accident.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The only illumination was the yellow headlights of the old black Camaro as they sped into the desert. No lights on the dashboard. No radio hummed. Even the clock seemed to have stopped. She glanced at the shadowed face of the driver, a vampire. A vampire her friend swore would protect her. A vampire who could make water behave like a pet. A vampire who was really good at being quiet.
She slipped her hand in her pocket and pressed the button on her phone, quickly scrolling through her playlists to find the appropriate accompaniment to driving through the desert with an undead, bloodsucking creature of the night. He looked over when he heard the music.
“Elvis?”
She shrugged. “Elvis is always appropriate.”
“I was wondering how long it would take you,” he said.
“Hmm?”
“Most humans hate silence.”
“Oh.” She glanced at her phone. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all. I saw him in concert a number of times.”
She tried, but she couldn’t stop the snort. “George, are you familiar with the term ‘mindfuck’?”
“Very familiar,” he said with a low laugh.
“This night—the last week, in fact—I’ve been swimming in one.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
Would she? She looked at his profile, barely discernible in the dark car. Glancing around, she asked, “So, all the lights and stuff in the car…”
“Shorted out at one point or another.” He shrugged. “It’s the only car I can drive without messing up the engine. I’m amazed the headlights still work. I don’t need the other lights or dials, and I didn’t want to bring Luis. Besides,” he said and ran a hand along the dashboard, “this is a pristine 1968 Chevy Camaro. Far more character than that Mercedes Luis prefers.”