Mixed Blessing (Mixed Blessing Mystery, Book 1) (33 page)

I was getting a bad feeling about all of this, a guilt-by-association feeling and I could tell Mark was right there with me. Not feeling guilty, but judging me by this obvious vampire behaviour. I could feel his heated stare on the back of my head.

Stu hadn't finished sharing though. Unfortunately. "I walked in on them in her office once. He had her on the desk. The door hadn't even been locked. There's a lock on that door. She should have locked it. We have an open door policy, you can walk into any room as long as it isn't locked. She should have locked it."

He looked a little green around the gills. I really didn't want to know what he saw when he burst in on that scene, but I
had
to know. "What were they doing?" I asked in a small voice and felt Samson's hand come down softly on my shoulder. I hadn't even realised he'd moved closer.

"Having sex," Stu replied dully, as though he'd distanced himself from the memory,
despite having to relive it again now. "He was giving her a hickey. She was moaning and writhing beneath him as he fucked her hard on top of her desk."

OK. That's an image I didn't need. But...

"Stu, you say hickey, was his face at her neck?"

"Yes."

"Could you see his mouth?"

"Yes."

"What did you see, Stu?"

"Blood," he whispered. "And fangs." Almost inaudible.

Even when you see it, your mind forms an explanation to make it fit into your world. For Stu vampires don't exist, so therefore the vampire feeding off Alison while he fucked her was not a vampire feeding, but a guy giving her a hickey during sex.

I licked my lips and sat up straighter. This was the world I was part of now. No hiding from it, no pretending this wasn't a vampire. I had hoped, even though evidence had so far proven otherwise. Now there was definitely no doubt.

"Right," I said, clearing my throat. "What else can you tell me about this guy? We know his height, skin and hair colour. Any distinguishing marks?" Other than the fangs.

"His eyes."

"What about them?"

"They were all red. Not all the time, but when he was getting heavy with her, when she started acting strange. All red."

"Did you tell the cops any of this?" I couldn't believe they hadn't already uncovered this from him through their previous interviews.

"No."

I frowned, so did Mark I noticed to the side.

"Why not?"

"He told me not to."

"The guy... um... making Alison act strangely?"

"Yes."

Oh shit. "Were his eyes red when he told you this?"

"Yes."

He'd glazed him into keeping quiet about his presence, yet I had countered his glaze with ease.

"Is that because he is my Sire?" I asked the room, but my question was for Samson. And clearly my brain was malfunctioning to say that aloud right now.

"Possibly," he replied, showing no surprise at my outburst, "or because you have additional talents he does not. You are not pure vampire, you are not just of his line. You are more."

"Who the fuck are you talking to?" Mark demanded from his arms-across-chest position on the other side of the room.

"Thinking aloud," I replied instantly.

"Don't bullshit me, Georgia. Who else is in this room?" And now he looked every inch the commanding police detective. His stare bore right through my defences, but I still managed to hold my ground.

"You don't need to know. It's irrelevant."

"To hell with that!" he shouted and this time appeared in my face. "This interview is over. I will not have you hiding something as big as this right under my nose."

"He has a temper on him," Samson remarked, also moving closer to my side.

"Maybe you should just come out, I have more questions for Stu."

"No you don't," Mark barked back as Samson said, "I don't think that would be wise."

"He knows you're there now, you might as well come out," I insisted, feeling infinitely tired all of a sudden.

Mark hesitated in his attempts to stare me down and Samson sighed.

"Babe, you're the only person I have ever told in this country of what I can do. I can glaze your friend's cousin to forget me, but I can't glaze this police detective."

Mark started tapping his foot waiting for me to make a move. He was clearly pissed off, but also curious. Human nature when faced with the bizarre.

"You could just alter his reality again," I offered.

"What the fuck?" Mark commented as Samson growled low and long.

"Do you wish to completely unman me?" Samson demanded.

"It's more like unvampire," I replied meekly.

"Woman," he barked, "you have no idea what I have shared with you. And you treat that knowledge like this?"

He had a point. I sighed and placed my head in my hands. Everybody went silent. Not that Stu had been saying much, he'd just been staring at me and then at Mark and then vaguely looking around the room as though poltergeist hunting.

Fuck. I was really screwing this up. Samson would no further share my secrets than stab himself with a silver stake through the heart. What the hell was I thinking?

"Mark," I started, he raised his eyebrows and glared back. I swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. "I have an acquaintance with me, he has not interfered, nor will he. He is here for... my support. To give me support." I felt Samson relax slightly to the side, Mark just continued to glare. I doggedly went on hoping I wasn't just digging a deeper and bigger hole. "For obvious reasons he can't reveal himself. And I know..." Another lick of my lips. "I know this is asking a lot, but please, please, for me, for old friendship's sake, please don't ask him to nor tell a single soul that he was here, or that this happened at all."

Silence met my words for several seconds.

"Would you get in trouble if I shared this knowledge?" Mark asked softly. "Would he hurt you?"

Samson growled at my side and I stiffened. Mark noticed and took my reaction at face value.

"OK," he said even more softly. "I won't tell a soul." I breathed a relieved breath, but it hadn't escaped my attention that Mark had assumed the worst. And he'd been completely off base. I knew I should have corrected him. Even if he didn't know it was Samson here with me, Samson would know I hadn't defended his honour at all. But sometimes you have to do the wrong thing, to make things right. And at this moment I needed to be able to stay and ask Stu my last questions.

I pushed all thought of what had just happened from my mind, crushed the weight of guilt and remorse I felt, and nodded my thanks to Mark. I didn't dare look at Samson. I returned my attention instead to Stu.

The murderer was a vampire, this appeared obvious. He'd infiltrated SubZero through Alison, he'd used her, glazed her and then killed her. But right now, I couldn't say he was my Rogue. And although this vampire was definitely in the right place at the right time, could we be sure he did it?

First, was he my Rogue?

"How did this guy dress?" I asked Stu.

He shrugged. "Casually, usually tan chino trousers, white shirt, brown boots and belt. The girls liked his style, they all seemed to swoon when he arrived." Not necessarily because of his attire or fashion sense though. Not when you could glaze.

"So, well presented?" I asked and he blinked back at me. "I mean, he wasn't dirty or
dishevelled at all? Matted hair, rips in clothes, filth under his nails?"

"No. None of that. He was cleanly shaven and apart form having long hair, it was always washed and brushed straight. The girls always went on about how nice it would feel if he would only let them run their fingers through the shining strands. And his clothes were always immaculate."

Huh. Not my Rogue. Not my Sire, in fact.

"Oh fuck," I said under my breath.

"What is it?" Mark asked as Samson wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and began to rub.

"I don't know him," I replied, numbly.

"I didn't think you did," Mark answered, but there was an undercurrent there. I'd kept something from him, he wasn't happy. Again.

I concentrated on breathing for a while, trying to work this all through. The murderer was  a vampire. I was certain of it, with that confrontation with the Rogue. The warning. His threat. Even Aliath believed it and had packed up shop and returned to
Álfheimr.
Stu had just backed all of this up - even if I hadn't yet determined how he was sure the vampire he had seen had killed Alison. Clearly though, whoever had done this was a vampire, but who? The Rogue who marked me with the same symbols as those found on the victims' chests, clearly trying to warn me off. Trying to scare me. He'd been dishevelled, dirty, unkempt. Nothing like the description Stu had just given. 

And Pete, the ghoul, believed the vampire performing the murders was a Rogue and not just any Rogue, but my Sire. So who the hell was this vampire messing with Alison, strutting through SubZero's head office, fucking and feeding from her on her desk?

It suddenly occurred to me that although I had made progress, I had also buried myself under a shit-heap of questions all over again.

"Fuck," I said with vehemence, my eyes flicking up to Stu.

I couldn't get him out of here. I couldn't even figure out who the actual murderer was. I was useless. Worse than useless, a waste of everyone's time.

What was the fucking point of becoming what I am if I couldn't even use it to help my friends out of a bind?

I had begun to think it
was
a mixed blessing.

I now knew that I had been wrong.

"What's going on, Georgia?" Mark demanded, still leaning over the table and glaring at my face.

I blinked at Stu, sitting mutely and patiently opposite me. He must have been confused by our conversation, by the questions I'd asked and my responses to them. I wanted to reassure him, but all of a sudden, I was doubting my abilities to accomplish anything, let alone give him false hope.

Kara was counting on me. Norms were still in danger of being killed. The Master of the City had employed me to investigate this. My Sire was involved.
I
was involved.

The weight of it all and the impossibility of solving it seemed to push me further into the plastic seat I was on. As though there was absolutely no chance I could ever stand on my own two feet again.

I realised I was panting, having a panic attack of some sort. Who ever heard of a vampire having a panic attack? It was ludicrous. Ridiculous. But here I was breathing through pants, a pain already starting in my chest, my vision blurring, my ears humming and sweat coating a fine cool layer over my skin.

I couldn't do this and yet so much was weighing on me stopping this vampire from killing again.

"Babe, you need to slow your breathing down." Samson's soft English accented voice murmured in my ear beside me, making me realise he had his arm around my shoulder and his cheek against my own.

Mark was saying something too, he was directly in front of me, he must have moved my chair back from the table to get close enough to stare me in the eyes. I had no idea what his words were, but I could see his mouth moving, see the concern etched in his eyes. But I could only hear Samson. Still murmuring, still rubbing his cheek against mine, his hand around my shoulder moving in a rhythmical pattern to soothe.

It wasn't working. I wasn't known for having panic attacks, but it appeared there was a first time for everything, because there was no denying I was panicking now.

I couldn't do this and yet so much was weighing on me stopping this vampire from killing again.

I couldn't do this.

Pain lanced through my ear lobe and shot down my neck. I jerked and yelped at the same time, and then smelled the blood. Samson growled against me and then his hot, wet tongue came out and lapped away the sting at my ear. A purr started in the back of his throat.

I pulled back and glared at him. I didn't like what I saw. Hunger. Satisfaction. Desire. It was all there and he let me see it as he casually licked his lips dry.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

He grinned. "Waking you up. You were spiralling, babe. Out of control." He raised his eyebrows at me. "You back in control now?"

I realised I
had
stopped panting and my vision was acutely clear. Adrenaline pumping through my veins.

"Are you mental?" I asked. "I could have attacked you." I'm surprised I hadn't reached for my Light.

Samson just laughed as I heard Mark swear softly in the background. No doubt remembering when I attacked
him
at my apartment. Hard to forget that sort of thing, even for a Norm.

"You are mine," Samson said without further explanation and then leaned back against the wall of the room casually and grinned some more.

I let a long breath out and muttered, "In your dreams, vampire."

Stu cleared his throat and I glanced up to see he was looking a damn sight paler than he had when he first walked in this room. And that was saying something. I sighed. Right, time to get back on track. I was not going to admit that Samson had helped me back there. I was going to ignore the whole episode and concentrate on the task at hand.

So, I wasn't as sure of what I was doing now, but that didn't mean I would give up. Stu had identified a vampire, who was clearly messing with Alison Danvers. So, the big question is, was this vampire the murderer, or was it the Rogue who had marked me and tried to warn me off?

"Stu," I said and then cleared my voice as his name had come out a bit scratchy. "How are you sure this guy is the murderer?"

Stu blinked back at me, a look of puzzlement on his face. A quick inhale of the scents on the air told me he was both confused and amused. A strange combination.

"I saw him do it, of course," he said explaining the emotions away.

"You saw him do it?" I asked as Mark approached the table again.

"Yeah. I was working late. Alison was too, but she left before me, said goodbye and headed down the elevator. I wanted to make sure she got in her car OK, so I watched from the office that overlooks the carpark. I saw the guy approach her, she gave him a kiss, so I thought all was good. But before I turned away he slit her throat with a knife and then gently laid her down on the tar-seal. Then he did something to her chest. I couldn't see, but it took a minute. And then he simply walked toward the bushes to the side and disappeared amongst the undergrowth there. I lost sight of him. By the time I made it down the stairs to Alison, the security guards were doing their round. They found me crouched over her body. They called the cops."

"He had the knife in his hand," Mark said quietly from the side. I was sitting deathly still, having heard all of that. Stu had been a witness, wrong place, wrong time. And now he was behind bars for something he didn't do.

"That's why he's here," I said in a whisper.

"Yes," Mark replied. "Caught at the scene, prints on the knife, no others detected. She was still warm when the security guards arrived and he couldn't tell us what had happened."

I flicked my gaze up to Mark and frowned.

"The vampire had left the scene, he didn't get a chance to glaze Stu before the guards arrived."

"We can't be sure of that," Samson offered and I swung my gaze back to him. "Stu only saw him disappear into the bushes, he may have watched from the sidelines, then glazed him as soon as he approached Alison's side."

"What's he say?" Mark asked, surprising me. But then he knew I was talking to my
support person
, he just couldn't hear it. I repeated what Samson had said.

"Is that possible?" Mark asked.

"Yeah. I'd say more than likely. Stu didn't do it, he has to answer my questions honestly. This is how it happened, and the only explanation for him not being able to offer you an alternate to what you thought transpired, is that the vampire got to him before the cops arrived."

"Why didn't he just kill him?" Mark asked, a good question.

"How many guards turned up?"

"Two in the initial patrol," Mark replied. "And a uniformed car happened to be cruising by at the time they spotted the blood and called it in."

So, within seconds of Stu reaching Alison the scene was crawling with several people, all of which having radioed in what was happening.

"Too much for the vampire to counteract," Samson said, completing my train of thought. I nodded.

The Rogue could have glazed the guards, or killed them, maybe even done the same to the cops. But the radio messages sent, he couldn't have counteracted. Within seconds too many people knew. Too many for him to get to.

Thankfully that meant Stu and the guards and cops got to live, but it also meant Stu got landed with a murder charge.

"He's innocent," I said looking up at Mark, but nodding my head towards Stu.

"Yeah, he is. But I can't use any of this, Georgia. Even if he makes a statement now, it wouldn't fly in court. Fabricated after the event. It would be as good as useless. You want him out of here, you have to give me the murderer. You have to give me something I can use."

I sat silently for a few seconds, mulling that over. Even if I could capture this vampire - and that was debatable, I had no idea who he was, he wasn't the Rogue - handing him over to the cops would mean a catastrophe of exorbitant proportions. He would annihilate whoever held him. Decimate Central Police Station with ease.

I looked back at my best friend's cousin and realised, with dawning horror, that he would have to take this fall. That to attempt to hand the vampire over to the police in exchange for his freedom, would mean too many deaths. One life for the lives of many.

Fuck.

God I felt sick, I actually swallowed back bile, my stomach a ball of frazzled nerves and disgusted emotions. This fucking sucked.

I breathed through the nausea and then looked into Stu's eyes. He hadn't understood all of what had gone on here, but he knew. He had figured out enough to know that this sucked.

"I won't leave you here," I said quietly, Mark shifted to my side and Stu's eyes got slightly wider. "When I find the guy who did this, I'll stake him. But I will not leave you here to rot."

"Georgia," Mark warned, but I continued, totally ignoring him.

"Be ready, Stu. I can't give you your old life back, but I promise you the rest of it won't be lived in this hell hole."

Mark swore, loudly this time. Muttered a few more choice words under his breath and went to knock on the door to the room, to get the guard's attention.

"Hang in there, mate," I whispered and Stu nodded, looking a little shell shocked and quite clearly wanting to ask a million questions, but realising now was not the time. "I will come back," I promised as the guard helped him stand and hauled him from the room. Stu's eyes never left mine and I didn't blink until he was gone.

"Well, that was not something I needed to hear," Mark announced as we made our way out of the prison. Up stairs, through steel grilled gates, more stairs, more gates, more checks and locks and clanking doors.

"If it helps," I said softly to his side, "you won't be able to link it to me."

He flicked a glance at my profile, but muttered, "I do not want to know how you think you can accomplish busting him out of a maximum security prison in the heart of Auckland City without being caught."

"Good," I replied. "Because I'm not telling you."

He grunted, but it wasn't as aggressive as his previous grunts had been.

Finally we made it to the fresh air outside and I drew in a relieved breath of the cool night. My Dark Shadow complaining about the length of time inside, but equally as keen to
bust
Stu out too.

"Well," Mark started, one of his hands wrapped around the back of his neck. He shifted slightly on his feet. "I guess you at least confirmed my suspicions. I knew he was innocent, and even with the current evidence, he should be out on bail, but despite all of this, he's still here."

We were standing next to his car in the prison ground carpark, the night only having a few hours left in which to move on with all of this. I had no idea where to from here and the proof that Stu was innocent wasn't nearly as satisfying to me as it appeared to Mark. Even if he was frustrated with not being able to release Stu yet.

"You said the orders came from up high. You know, to keep him here," I said, still trying to work it all through in my head.

"Yeah, from the Minister of Police in fact. There's enough evidence to place him at the scene, to connect him to the murder weapon. But no motive and Stu, although not having given us an alternative explanation, has always maintained he is innocent and doesn't remember picking the knife up."

"But it's enough to convict him?" I asked.

"Yeah, a jury would convict him on that."

"Even without a motive?"

"Even without a motive," he repeated back to me.

"This sucks."

"Tell me about it."

We were both silent for a while, both deep in thoughts of how badly this sucked for Stu. And how impotent we both were right now. I was sure I would track this son-of-a-bitch vampire down and stake him, but, although satisfying, it would not get Stu off.

"What about the murders since?" I asked, breaking the silence. "Stu couldn't have done those."

"No, but they could be explained away as a copy cat or an accomplice, neither of which would get Stu off the rap for the Danvers murder."

Samson's cellphone rang loudly into the gap in our conversation, but although I jumped at the noise, Mark still couldn't hear a thing from my
invisible-to-him
partner. I shook my head and ignored Samson's quiet conversation.

"Thanks for letting me see him," I told Mark instead.

He grunted back. "I was curious. It's kind of impressive. Shame no one else knows about you guys, it would help us keep the crime rate down for sure."

Wow, that was a turn up for the books. Mark actually considered what I had done - vampire hocus-pocus - as being beneficial. Acceptable. I felt my mouth stretch into a grin.

"We've got troubles," Samson said at my side.

I groaned and turned to him. "What sort of troubles?"

"He still here?" Mark asked, not really paying attention to our conversation as his pager had just gone off and he was fishing it off his belt as he spoke.

"One of the safe houses is under attack," Samson said quite matter-of-factly, as though this news wasn't really that alarming at all. I begged to differ.

"The vampire?" I asked in a high pitched kind of voice, my fangs slamming down and out as I spoke, making my words lisp towards the end.