Finley Monahan was fairly sure nothing was broken, but everything ached nonetheless. The skinny crackhead she'd chased seven blocks and into an abandoned building had been stronger and faster than he'd looked. Finley had gotten a pipe to the head before she'd been able to tackle the bastard and cuff him a bit more roughly than necessary. Generally she tried to avoid taking the job personally because that was a one-way ticket to either becoming a bad cop or getting yourself killed – but she didn't think inflicting a deserved bruise now and again was anything to be worried about.
In the bathroom, she studiously avoided looking at her blossoming black eye and palmed a couple of Ibuprofen. Javon had gone to sleep like an angel, thank goodness, because Finley was quite sure a screaming toddler might have bumped the dull ache in her temple to migraine status.
A long, hot shower and an ice pack to her eye later, she was feeling something bordering on human when her cell phone rang. "Shake it Like a Salt Shaker" blared from her phone and she grinned. That had been Beth's ring tone for years, a private joke shared between the two, and Beth had sworn on more than one occasion that she would attempt to kick Finley's ass if she told anyone why – attempt being the key word, since Beth was more on talk than action.
"Hi babe."
"I'm glad you answered," Beth said. She paused, and Finley could hear voices in the background. "Listen, can you get away for a minute?"
Taking the now-dripping ice pack to the freezer, Finley didn't hesitate. If her friend sounded like that, all she needed was an address. "Where?"
"I'm at Mick's apartment. 1201 Palmdale."
Finley took a pen from the counter and scribbled down the information. "I'll be there as soon as I wake Olivia up."
Olivia Bernstein was her sweet, very understanding neighbor down the hall. Olivia had been widowed for ten years. She and her husband had never been able to have children, much to her sorrow. When Finley had moved in two years ago, pregnant, alone, and miserable, Olivia had gently and insistently taken Finley under her wing. She had been the one to take Finley to the hospital when her water broke, the first one to hold Javon after he was born, and she considered herself his grandmother.
Javon spent his days in a very nice day care a few blocks from Finley's job, but the nights she was called out, Olivia was always the one to babysit. And, Finley thought with a grin, she might complain about all the "newfangled gadgets" in Finley's living room, but there was never a night she went out on call that she didn't come home to find Olivia curled up with the cable remote.
The heels of her slightly impractical but entirely gorgeous new boots clicking on the pavement, Finley made her way into the underground parking garage. Her car, a 7-year-old Audi, was more expensive to maintain than she would have liked, but she would quite honestly rather face down angry gang members than deal with car salesmen, so when it came time to write the checks for the maintenance, she sucked it up. Darnell had been the one to find her the car. Truth be told, she considered herself independent to a fault, but there were some things she just didn't enjoy about being single, and car shopping was one of those.
On the drive to Mick's apartment, Finley considered what her friend had told her about the man she was dating, which was little to nothing. That in itself was unusual. Beth and Finley had been roommates in college, best friends for years, sisters in every way but blood. Beth had been ecstatically happy with Josh and eager to introduce him to everyone she knew – although privately, Finley had thought the Assistant D.A. was very nice and way too boring for Beth. She'd felt extremely guilty for thinking that way when Josh had been killed. Not for nothing, but Finley's opposite-of-boring taste in men had gotten her heart broken. There was something to be said for nice and safe.
She knew Beth had met Mick on a murder scene, and that the two had become friends. For some reason, Beth had not been very forthcoming about him in the beginning, and especially not now that she was dating him. Finley made a mental note to do some prying. What were best friends for, after all?
Her navigation system announced she had arrived at her destination, and Finley parked. She was embarrassed by it, but her lack of direction had made the nav system necessary. It was either that or pack the trunk with dry goods and hope that she was found before she ran out of food.
Out of habit, she checked the gun strapped to her side and concealed beneath her jacket. Unless she was with Javon, she didn't go anywhere unarmed. She hadn't yet managed to reconcile the idea of being a mother and carrying a gun.
The hallway leading to Mick's door was cool and quiet. Glancing at the art on the walls, Finley shivered. There was a scent in the air that made her uncomfortable. She'd spent enough time in morgues to recognize the scent of decay, but this was different – decay, but something darker still. There were times like this one that she wished her sense of smell was less sensitive.
She knocked on the frosted glass of the door and it opened to reveal Beth. Not for the first time, Finley wondered at how she and Beth had become friends. Beth looked like a china doll – blonde, blue-eyed, and perfect. When Beth had showed up in their dorm, Finley had despised her on sight. In the classic college tradition, they had gotten drunk together one night and had one of those inebriated conversations where they both revealed more than they would have had they been sober. Beth had told Finley about her kidnapping at the age of four. Finley had been impressed by the fact that the blonde was tougher than she looked, and Beth had learned that Finley was not quite as much of a bitch as she tried to make it seem. They had been friends ever since.
Beth smiled. "Hi, sweetie." She hugged her friend a little tighter than necessary and stepped back. "Come in."
Finley's first thought upon entering Mick's apartment was that she had chosen the wrong career. Clearly private investigators made way more money than lowly cops. There was nothing but space and sharp angles – not exactly child-friendly, she noted.
Her eyes took in the two men in the living room. One was seated, holding a glass of what looked like whiskey. It was the other man that captured her attention. He didn't look a day over thirty. With his Versace suit (Finley might not be able to afford anything in Vogue, but that didn't keep her from reading it every month), suspenders, sleeves rolled to reveal surprisingly muscular arms, he looked like any young stockbroker that she'd met and disliked. She couldn't explain what it was that made her wary of him, but there was something in the way he carried himself that immediately set her on edge. The men were having a low and angry conversation. Although she knew they were aware of her presence, neither of them looked in her direction.
Beth turned to Finley and as she did, saw the bruise on her eye. "Oh my God! What happened to you?"
Finley shrugged. "Nothing interesting."
Beth knew her friend well enough to know where her attention was. "Come with me for a second, okay? Let's get you a drink."
In the kitchen, although she knew it was futile, Beth lowered her voice. "Fin, listen to me – I know you are all about reality, but I need you to suspend disbelief, just for a little while."
Smiling, Finley took the glass of whiskey Beth offered. "And why is that?"
Nearly whispering now, Beth reached out to touch Finley's hand. "We need your help. I didn't want to bring you into this but I had no choice."
Finley turned her palm up to cup Beth's hand. "You know whatever it is, I'll help."
Beth took a deep breath. "I know."
Finley followed Beth into the living room. The man on the couch stood and she took a good look at him. This had to be Mick. Immediately she saw the attraction – he was movie star handsome, but he carried himself with an air of danger that just couldn't be faked. Personally, Finley appreciated it when someone knew they could kick your ass and didn't attempt to hide it.
She stuck her hand out and shook his. "I'm Finley Monahan."
He smiled and revealed perfect teeth. Well, in L.A., what else could you expect? "It's very nice to meet you, finally."
Finley glanced at Beth, who was looking at the ceiling. "Yes, finally. I've heard a lot about you."
Mick was apparently too polite to mention her shiner, but his friend had no such scruples. "Who got the better of you?"
Gritting her teeth, Finley tilted her head. "Better question – does he look worse than me?"
Seeing the direction of the conversation was about to be derailed, Beth quickly stepped in. "Josef, this is my best friend, Finley Monahan. She's with LAPD. Fin, this is Josef Kostan."
Keeping cool blue eyes to his, Finley gave a clearly fake attempt at a smile. "Pleasure."
Seated next to her friend on the couch, Finley found herself at a loss as to what this could possibly be about. Beth did tend to get herself into trouble, but nothing she'd never been able to get back out of.
Beth rubbed suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans and took a deep breath. She knew Finley's tolerance for b.s. was below zero. Life had been hard on her; circumstances had made her, if not bitter, then very practical. "Fin, we need your help with . . . an issue." She looked to Mick, at a loss as to how to continue.
"Finley, Beth has told me a lot about you. I know all of this may be hard for you to believe, but I'm asking you for her sake to be patient while we explain." Glancing at Josef, who was wearing his permanent smirk, Mick shrugged. "No easy way to say it, really. A list of names was delivered to an Assistant D.A. Josef and I are on that list. We have reason to believe that there is a group of people who are attempting to expose us, and we need to find out who they are and why."
Taking a healthy swallow of the whiskey, Finley lifted an eyebrow. "Expose you for what?"
An unmistakable growl filled the room. "Leave it to a cop to focus on that."
"Josef." Mick spoke his name quietly, but it got the point across. "We agreed."
"I still don't see the point in bringing another human into this, but I guess the more the merrier, right?" His displeasure clear, Josef drained his glass and went for a refill.
This was getting weirder by the second, but the words didn't slip past Finley. "Another human? What, and you guys aren't?" She laughed, but no one else did.
Mick waited until Josef resumed his position by the fire. "Finley, Josef and I are vampires."
Finley had a bad moment when the mouthful of whiskey she'd just swallowed attempted to go down the wrong way. Eyes watering, she managed a small cough before she choked out, "Excuse me?"
Beth turned to her. "I know, it's a lot to grasp, but it's true."
Finley didn't think that Beth would ever pull an April Fool's joke as elaborate as this one – not to mention the fact that it was August – but she was beginning to wonder if that blow to the head had been harder than she'd thought. "I'm sorry, did you just say you're vampires? The drinking-blood kind, not the walk around L.A. and pretend you're producers kind?"
Josef laughed before he could stop himself. He had to admit, the redhead with the black eye had guts. "Yes, the real kind."
In a clear gesture of disbelief, Finley leaned back and crossed her legs. Tilting her glass, she took a moment to stare at the amber liquid before turning her gaze on the two men. "Okay. Show me."
For a moment, neither of the men moved. A heartbeat later, their eyes had bled to white and they both had unmistakable fangs.
Finley had been a cop for eight years – long enough to see more than she would have liked to. She had seen the depths of human depravity and she would have put money on the fact that she could no longer be shocked by anything. And yet her breath was caught in her throat at the sight of something that could not be explained.
She cleared her throat. "All right. Which A.D.A. was the list delivered to and when?"
Josef had to admit, he was surprised, and that was a rarity. "That's it?"
Finley shot him a look. "My best friend asked me for help. You just showed me your very nice dental work. All I need to know."
Mick grinned at Beth. "You did say she was great." He neglected to mention that as he had been following Beth since she was four, he'd known exactly who Finley was before she'd walked through the door. That was information best shared at a later time.
Relieved, Beth smiled back. "I told you."
Mick leaned forward. "Here's what we know. A list was found under the door of Assistant D.A. Talbot last night. The list contained the names of myself and Josef, and at least two hundred other vampires in L.A."
Finley stared at her glass and had a brief internal debate before she handed it to Beth. Knowing her friend, Beth went to retrieve the bottle. "Were all of the vampires in L.A. on the list?"
Mick shook his head. "No, not all. There are at least four hundred of us. The ones on the list were the higher profile vampires."
A memory jogged free. Finley turned to Josef. "Being a philanthropist in the public eye wasn't a good idea, then?" She bared her molars.
Mick snorted and Josef gave him a look that could have cut glass. "Apparently not."
Beth returned with the bottle. "Fin, I'm sorry to tell you this way, but Mick and Josef are in danger." She ignored Josef's snarl. "Some may be less willing to accept help than others, but if we're going to get to the bottom of this, we need everyone we can get, and that includes people who may have access to information we don't."
Finley took a deep breath. "Okay. I need a copy of the list. I'll dig around but I need to know who I can trust. And I need assurance that no one will come near Javon."
Beth pressed her lips together. Mick knew about Finley's son, but Josef did not. "Josef, do you have a security detail who can protect someone?"
Arm propped lazily against the bookshelf, Josef was the picture of corporate smugness. Finley didn't need to know anything more about him to know that he had set all of her senses on edge, and it was not a feeling she liked. "Who am I protecting, exactly?"
"My son." Finley lifted her chin. "If it were just me, I wouldn't ask. But if I'm going to help you, my son can't be put in danger."
Josef turned unreadable eyes to her. "He won't be harmed."
"Thank you." Finley took what she knew had to be her last drink for the night. No point in tempting fate, after all. "Tell me the rest."