Mixed Blessing (Mixed Blessing Mystery, Book 1) (17 page)

I let the scents of the room wash over me. They were all familiar and took less time to differentiate than the office. The cops, forensics, Alison. And the Peaches Perp along with Jett. Both of the last were plastered all over the space. I started tracking each scent, Jett had sat on the armchair, opposite where Alison appeared to always sit. His scent didn't overlap hers, didn't entwine either. If they had met here, which it would appear as he seemed to sit down, then it wasn't completely informal. It was also slightly faded, as though he had been gone from this room longer than the smell of the peaches, apple and cinnamon of the perp.
His
- or I guess it could be her - scents were right slap bang next to Alison's, to the point of them being well and truly entwined. If I had thought her involved with her killer before, I was sure of it now. They hadn't progressed to the bedroom, but lust, desire and sex hung in the air all over that couch. Blech.

"What are you doing?" Samson's voice startled me out of my grimace. I had still been leaning over the couch sniffing when he had obviously walked back in the room. Shit. Shit. Shit.

"It smells funny," I said, trying to hide my mortification that he had caught me scenting. I reminded myself that vampires scent all the time. He walked over to my side and inhaled.

"I can't smell anything strange." He flicked his chocolate eyes to mine, they held a question in them. I didn't answer. I couldn't.

"My mistake," I said instead. "We done here?"

"Nothing in the bathroom, or any of the extremely open and large rooms down that hall." The question was still there, this time in his slightly sarcastic tone. Yeah, claustrophobic you would not feel in this enormous home. I just nodded - I wasn't sure if that was an acknowledgement that he had caught me out in a lie, or just an encouragement for him to move on. I didn't wait to see how he took it, but still inhaling, decided to follow the Peaches Perp's scent from the room. I could do this and not let on to Samson. The trick would be when we got outside and I'd want to follow his scent on foot.

The murderer had of course gone down the hallway to the office, but I followed his layered scent out the front door. We walked in silence back to the elevator. The Perp had used the lift, I was betting only once though, his scent wasn't layered enough here to account for two trips, in and out. So, I followed it along the hallway to the emergency stairs.

"Let's head this way, you never know what we could find," I suggested, pushing open the door to the stairwell.

Samson didn't argue, but I saw him frown at me again in contemplation. I just hoped he was impressed with my lateral thinking and not surprised to consider why I was thinking this way at all. I'm not a detective, never have been. I'm a bartender, nothing else. I knew in that instant that Samson was holding back. He was well aware that I should not have been tasked with this investigation. There was absolutely no reason for Jett to put his trust in me on this. But for whatever motive, Samson was not pushing me for an explanation.

I had a bad feeling that wouldn't last forever, but I'd take advantage of his reticence for now.

The scents in the stairwell were hellishly dense. It hadn't been aired for some time and many people over that period had used it. It took me several seconds to sift through them to find the Peaches Perp, but as I hadn't wanted to let Samson know what I was doing, I'd done the cataloguing whilst on the move. I was taking the stairs inordinately slowly for a vampire though. Still, he remained silent at my back.

By the time we made it to the ground level, it was obvious I wasn't going to pick up anything new here. The Perp had exited into the main foyer and simply gone out the door. While Samson returned the keys and took the time to wipe all evidence of our visit from the security system, I headed outside to follow that scent. If I could get a bead on the direction then I could come back later and follow it up.

I was standing on the sidewalk several meters away from the front door to Alison's apartment when he met me. I realised my mistake too late. I'd been staring at some bushes that hid the exact spot the Perp's scent disappeared - into thin air again - when Samson arrived silently at my side.

"What have you found?" he asked, voice quiet.

I spun to face him, spotted our car over his shoulder several meters on the other side of the apartment complex and fumbled for an appropriate answer to his question.

"Don't," he said softly, his hand coming up to brush hair off my face. "I won't ask how, I won't say a thing, just tell me
what
you found."

I closed my eyes for a long moment, it was impossible to hide anything from him. But I couldn't do this. I couldn't lower my guard with
him
. Not again. I may have lowered my guard with Aliath and Jett, some of which was out of my hands, but I had a choice here and by God, I would stick with it. I choose not to let Samson back in. Not to let my heart get torn apart again. My talents were my last weapons of defence. He was not going to get them.

"I need to run, thanks for your help." I went to turn away and his hand shot out and clamped on my upper arm.

I tried futilely to pull free, but Samson, although only a level four master vampire like me, was physically stronger. He held me in place without breaking a sweat.

"I took a copy of the security footage over the past week. I didn't have time to get any more, but it should cover before she was killed. Maybe you'll find something on there." He handed me a flash-drive with his free hand. I stared at it, stunned. I didn't know what to say. He'd stopped me for this? For some reason I'd expected a blow up, an argument about me always running when I should stay and talk things through. But he was all business, taking care of something I should have thought of to suggest, but hadn't. He'd had my back, but instead of feeling relieved or thankful, I felt hurt. Which didn't make any sense at all.

"I've got to go," I said in a hollow voice, slipping the flash-drive into a pocket.

"I'll give you a lift wherever you need to go. Do you have to work?" he asked, his grip now not so much steel, more a caress, on my arm.

I shook my head. "I've got a date."

Oh damn, what had possessed me to say that? Samson's eyes flashed cinnamon and taupe, he growled low in the back of his throat and the fingers, that had been caressing, began to dig into the flesh on my arm.

"I see," he said after several seconds and then stiffly released my arm and stepped away. "I won't hold you up any longer. I'm glad I could be of some assistance to you tonight."

He nodded, gave me a formal and curt bow, and then flashed to the Land Rover. He'd pulled away from the pavement and made it to the end of the street before I remembered to pretend to breathe.

The hollowness of my voice seeped into my bones.

Samson had hurt me in the past, but for some strange reason, it hurt even more when I returned the favour unintentionally just now.

I resisted the temptation to feed on the way back to the city centre. Using the shadows as I was, would give my Dark Shadow inside more leeway of course, but the thought of drinking someone's blood right now was repulsive. It wasn't even funny anymore, that I found my one form of sustenance disgusting. I knew if I was to give in, the moment the blood hit my tongue all thought of repugnance would be lost. I would embrace the warmth and life and power it gave me, just like any other vampire.

But for now I clung to my humanity and ignored the ever increasing hunger within, even if it meant I'd have to wear contacts tonight when I visited Mark for dinner.

Dinner. What the hell was Jett thinking when he pushed me into this? I couldn't glaze Mark - which was why contacts were an acceptable accessory this evening - so how on earth was I going to
pretend
to eat? Things were getting more and more complicated, and I wasn't sure if any of it was making a difference. Stu was still in a prison cell. I was no further to my goal of getting him free than when Kara first approached me about this. And I was using my Dark Shadow more and more, making the need for feeding increase.

Normally I can last three days easily, longer even if I push myself. But I fed two nights ago, topped up on Samson - strangely quite successfully - and
still
I was hungry. I knew I could put it off for tonight, but the more I used my talents, my vampire side, the more I would need to feed. I prayed there would be no need to go all vamp again this evening. Once I made it home to my apartment, I would use normal modes of transport to get around. And dinner with Mark was going to be a completely human affair. Even if I couldn't partake of the meal.

I licked my lips as I slipped into the well lit lobby of my building complex, releasing the shadows only after making sure no one was around. I'd have to come up with an excuse about actually eating, but I also didn't want to offend him. I'd think of something, but first I needed to wash all trace of Samson's scent off my body. I wasn't sure how he did it, he'd only touched my upper arm, but I was coated in the smell of him, as though he'd somehow marked me with just his breath.

I inhaled deeply through that acknowledgement, as I closed my front door and crossed to bathroom. Ten minutes later and pine needles and musk had been replaced with lavender and honey. Artificial scents, but it had removed all evidence of Samson. Eventually my own signature scent would prevail; winter rain, jasmine and sandalwood. But right now I needed cosmetic assistance.

Jett didn't expect me to work at
Sensations
tonight or perhaps for the next few nights while I investigated these murders. The thought of not being behind that bar made me anxious. I hadn't realised how much I depended on that routine. Bar-tending is all I have ever known and all I have ever dressed for. My wardrobe now consists of black jeans, boots and tops. I threw all of my lovely colourful clothes out when the Dark entered my life. It's not as though I was trying to embrace it, it just took over and suddenly green and yellow and blue seemed wrong. I stared at my wardrobe now and tried to decide what would constitute
date
clothes. I had absolutely no idea.

It was only the cold seeping into my bones as I stood there in my sporty black bra and boy-short knickers that made me realise I'd zoned out. My clothing options were limited and I decided I needed to feel comfortable more than I needed to impress. It's not like Mark and I were really having a real date anyway. I was still working, just not behind a bar. I grabbed a pair of skin tight black jeans and fitted black singlet top. Slipped on a chunky, thick black leather belt with a huge enamel daisy belt buckle. Large white rounded petals and a bright yellow centre. Matching chunky yellow and white enamel bangles on one arm to finish it off. If only Doug could see these, my effort would be worth it. I live to make him roll his eyes.

Boots, black jacket and a silver stake and I was complete. I needed to get my spare stake off Jett - I hated relying on just the one - but that would mean seeing him again and I wasn't sure if I was ready for that knowing and possessive stare.

Dressed and ready to face the night. Yeah, right. I blew a breath out in frustration and stomped across the living room to my now obsolete kitchen. My apartment is my haven. I used to love to cook and took great delight in making sure everything was just right. But since the BIG change, I've lost any desire to maintain that façade. When my dad kicked me out of home, I was so proud of finding this place. Central, modern, safe. I took great effort to decorate it just how I liked it. Fun and quirky, anything that didn't reflect Simon Deverell's tastes. I went with abstract art instead of impressionist. Bold primary colours instead of autumnal hues. Modern, angular furniture instead of curvaceous priceless antiques. It was a waste of time, he's never visited here to be unimpressed.

Still, it is my home and even if the colourful duvet cover in my bedroom has been replaced with a plain black one, and the Santa Bears have been stuffed into storage and are now replaced with a single blood red throw across the bed, it is still all me. My living area has colour in the form of my abstract art, the inner sanctum of the bedroom not so much. Dark on the inside, trying to maintain some Light on the outside. I wasn't sure if I was winning that battle.

I opened the refrigerator and stared at the pitiful contents. A few Vodka Mixers, sodas and sparkling water, and that was it. Depressing. I slammed it shut and looked at my watch. It was time to call a taxi and get on with it. When I reached for the phone on the kitchen bench, I noticed the flashing red light to indicate a message. Hitting play I listened.

"Gigi, it's Mark. I'm really sorry, but we're going to have to take a rain check. Something's come up at work and I'll be busy all night." A pause, the sound of rustling. Maybe his hand through his short hair? "I'm really sorry, I promise to make it up to you." Then the disconnect tone.

Well hell. Relief coursed through me, mixed with frustration. I needed to find out what Mark knew, but I hadn't been relishing that task. I still had no idea how to convince him to confide in me. As much as I didn't want to play him, I had instructions from my Master of the City, who held an enormous secret over my head. Plus, I
really
wanted to get Stu off that damn murder charge. Which made me realise, Mark had sounded quite stressed. I hadn't been able to scent or taste an emotion of course, but his voice had indicated as much. And as he was in charge of homicide, that could mean only one thing.

I needed to know what he was up to. Another murder could mean something to this case. But how? What would a jilted date do in a situation such as this? Wait? I smiled to myself. I may not be experienced in the dating scene, but I knew an opportunity when it presented itself.

I dialled the police station and asked to be put through to Detective Anderson's phone. It was answered, which I hadn't expected, but had kind of hoped. But not by Mark.

"Detective Anderson's phone. How may I help?" The voice was harsh and shrill, and belonged to a female.

I allowed some
Sanguis Vitam
to fill my own voice when I spoke. "Hi, I had an appointment to meet Detective Anderson this evening and just received a message that he would be late. Is there any chance of finding out how long please?"

"Your name?" Damn, I hadn't expected that. I ramped up the
Sanguis Vitam
.

"That doesn't matter. How long will he be?"

There was a lengthy pause, enough for me to know the human on the other end of the phone was trying to puzzle through the compulsion to talk. It took more
Sanguis Vitam
to do it this way. Face to face and with a receptive human, a glaze would have worked far better. But I had no way of knowing if I could get to see someone close to Mark and the case, if I went to the police station myself. So, I had hoped to luck out with someone in his department. It had worked, but detectives - or maybe she was just an assistant - in homicide were not known for their lack of intelligence and push-over characters. She was resisting my influence, but I am particularly strong. A master vampire. Fourth level. She really didn't stand a chance.

I had guessed Mark was an anomaly, when Jett had seemed surprised he'd been resistant to his glaze. 'Harsh and Shrill' here may have been trying to ignore the compulsion, but she wasn't in Mark's league.

"Um, probably the whole night. He's dealing with multiple cases." A sharp intake of breath down the line.

"That's good. Thank you. What is your name?"

"Sandra."

More
Sanguis Vitam
. I could feel my fangs extend and knew my eyes had bled to red. Humming had started to fill the room. "Now Sandra, you're doing beautifully. Tell me, what is Mark working on?"

A slight pause, but not as long as last time, she was already trapped in my web. "I don't know the specifics, I'm just the typist. But he was called out to three different murders in the city."

"Three?" My voice sounded multi-layered. "Are they in any way related to the Alison Danvers case?"

No hesitation now. "He thinks so, but it's too early to tell."

"Where are they Sandra? Can you give me the addresses?"

She rattled off three locations around central Auckland.

"Great, Sandra. Almost done." A whimper down the line. I was pushing it, I had to release her or she might crack. "Where is Detective Anderson now? Which scene?"

A small groan, then barely a whisper, "Federal Street. Sky City."

I started pulling back my
Sanguis Vitam
, to cut it off completely, when she was so far under my spell, could be disastrous. She was trapped in my web and untangling her would take a gentle hand.

"Sandra, listen to me."

"Yes."

"You've done so well, but you are tired now. You need to take the rest of your shift off. Go home and sleep. When you awake you won't remember a thing of this conversation, only that you had a headache and needed to go home. OK?"

"OK. Goodbye." The phone hung up, I stood still listening to the dial tone. I'd left her with a smattering of
Sanguis Vitam
to get her home. By the time she awoke tomorrow, her need for my power would have dissipated. She wouldn't remember a thing.

Me, on the other hand, I'd never forget. What I had done. What I was capable of. How I hadn't felt an ounce of regret or guilt at all.

I was truly a monster beneath my pale skin.

I forced my fangs to retract and placed the handset in the cradle, then walked into my bedroom to look at the monster in the mirror. My eyes were past purple, now fully red. Samson's eyes turn cinnamon and taupe. Marcus's turquoise and cyan. Michel's amethyst and magenta. But mine go a strange purple and then a frightful horror-movie red. A low growl came from the back of my throat. Then I numbly reached out and grabbed two new disposable contact lenses and quickly put them in.

Dark blue stared back from the mirror, but it didn't fool me. The monster still lurked beneath.

Grabbing my keys and wallet from the kitchen bench I headed out the door. It was ten past eight, if I had been human, I'd have been hungry for dinner right now. I was guessing Mark hadn't had a chance to eat. I was hoping he was starving and had a penchant for Chinese

Armed with a couple of chopsticks and a noodle box of
Hokkien Mee
, I approached the cordoned off section of Federal Street in the shadow of Sky City Tower. City street smells assailed me, mixed with the egg, pork and noodles from the box in my hand. I pushed them all aside and began to sift through the multitude of more pertinent scents. The same forensic team, Grumpy Guts and my target - vanilla, raspberry and allspice.

I couldn't see Mark past the horde of grotesque rubberneckers, but a splash of
Sanguis Vitam
had them all making way for me, parting like the Red Sea. It's amazing how one step down that Dark path makes all subsequent steps seem so trivial. I hadn't even stopped to consider that any vampire nearby would pick up on me influencing this crowd. It didn't matter, I was on an assignment for the Master of the City. I had a right to be here and a right to use whatever I deemed necessary to obtain my goal.

The Dark Shadow stretched languidly inside, woken up and a little shocked I was letting her out to play.

I reached the yellow police line tape and took in what was visible on the other side. Not much. A sheet had been raised to obstruct the rubberneckers' view, lights on the other side displaying shadows against the white barrier. Crouched figures, bustling people and the obvious lump of the victim's body. A grotesque game of shadow puppets.

I looked up and took in the position of windows that would provide an overview of the street. All looked bright with light, seeing out of them into the darkness outside would be impossible, besides they all looked to be part of the casino, and well guarded by security teams. No vantage point I could see and although shadows existed on either side of Federal Street, I had an objective to obtain before I went down that path.

A uniformed police officer walked past on the other side of the tape, making what appeared to be a routine sweep along the public line. Answering the odd question with a deflection, calming down the crowd, giving them all a false sense of order and safety. When he came abreast of where I was standing I reached out with more
Sanguis Vitam
and wrapped it around his body. He slowed, then stopped, and turned dulled eyes to me.