Chapter Six: The Multiplication of Problems
It never ceased to amaze Andy how quickly people flocked to a murder. First paramedics roared in to see if there was any chance of saving space at the morgue. Then the police came on the scene with their yellow tape, photographers and stern expressions. Around that time the press would make their appearance with recording devices and prying eyes. Andy and her sister fit into the category of spectators although their interest in the murder was far from idle.
Beth was talking to a black man in a neat suit with tired eyes. He was probably a cop. She'd called her cameraman and was technically covering the story. At the same time she was fishing for information. Andy appreciated the effort from a woman who was virtually a stranger. Then again, Beth was more likely to be helping her friends.
Emmaline Bradford lived under the shadow of dark magic. Andy could feel the power scratching against her skin when she'd met the woman. Her memories were skillfully locked away and somehow the spell was being reinforced on a regular basis. She doubted that Naomi visited Josef's sweetheart so the witch was doing it some other way. Naomi always had been clever.
"This isn't normal," Mona said quietly from her place on the sidewalk, eyes staring blindly towards where the body had been dumped. Andy nodded.
"I was thinking that. Naomi doesn't usually leave her sacrificial lambs in plain sight." No, when Mona was struck with the knowledge of Naomi's occasional killing sprees they never found the bodies. This was like a taunt.
Andy stared up at the cloudless sky and contemplated taking off her jacket. It was too warm for it but she'd stupidly put on a sleeveless t-shirt. The tattoo on her upper right arm would definitely be recognized and connected to the murder six months ago. Besides, she wasn't nearly as heat sensitive as Mick was and he was handling it rather well as he circled the scene of the crime. Of course none of the cops wanted a P.I. around. Luckily he didn't need to be close to use his fantastic observation skills.
"It's been a long day," Mona noted thoughtfully. "Hiring a private detective, almost catching Naomi, making a woman faint and now investigating a murder. I shudder to think what we'll be doing tomorrow."
"If we even live through the day," Andy pointed out. Personally she thought the chances of survival were becoming slimmer all the time. Naomi had stayed in Los Angeles. That meant she didn't care that Andy and Mona were still looking for her. And that meant no good thing for the sisters. Mona tilted her head in Andy's direction.
"You really have to stop being so optimistic." She succeeded in making her sister laugh which was her only real goal at the moment. Mona knew just as well as Andy did that they were in a bad situation, getting worse all the time. A blind witch didn't have a great shot at surviving. Still, the last thing they needed to do was succumb to desperation and fear. That wouldn't help solve anything.
"It looks like Mick has finished sniffing around," Andy said, watching the vampire approach them. She wondered if he knew how conspicuous he was in a shirt that clung to his skin, leaving little to the imagination of many drooling women, and a thigh-length black jacket. Honestly, who wore a jacket like that when it was over eighty degrees out? Andy glanced at her denim jacket and cringed. It wasn't smart to throw stones and take shelter in a glass house.
"Try not to irritate him," Mona told her sister as she stood up and shook out the wrinkles in her dress. It was habit rather than necessity. After all, it wasn't like she could see the wrinkles. Andy smiled.
"Would I do that to the poor guy?" Before Mona could reply, Mick reached her side.
"Have you two been able to come up with anything else on the magic front?" Andy raised a brow.
"'Fraid not. Didn't your vamp senses start tingling?" Mona let out a gusty sigh, her hope for Andy's good behavior going out with it.
"Whoever put the body here wasn't Naomi." Mick was pleased by the way Andy's eyes widened. Usually he was an agreeable guy, not looking to deliberately annoying anyone. Andy just had one of those combative personalities. She poked at him and he poked back. Childish, yes, but extremely satisfying.
"She's not working alone," Mona realized. The color in her face drained until she looked ashen. "Holy Hecate, Naomi has followers." Mick raised a brow.
"Followers?"
"Could you sense anything else?" Andy asked quickly. She didn't look much better than her sister. For the first time he saw the worry lines between her eyebrows and wondered if she was older than he'd thought or just older on the inside.
"It was a man. Well, more like a boy. The raging hormones of a teenager tend to stick out." Mona groaned softly and turned away.
"What's the story?" Mick asked them, glancing from one horrified face to the other.
"She did something like this a hundred years ago. Naomi can be very appealing, especially to confused teenagers. She convinced a few of the young men she'd taken as lovers that the coven coming to punish her was filled with corrupted souls who chased her for no reason. Of course they rushed to her defense as she slipped out the back door, so to speak," Mona explained quietly. "The outcome was not a pretty sight."
"This doesn't look like the same thing but it's close enough to be a problem," Andy said, obviously disturbed. Chasing and destroying a witch who'd killed members of her family wasn't so bad. Battling teenaged boys who only wanted to belong somewhere made her feel uncomfortable.
"Perfect," Mick said, the sarcasm in his voice far from light. He glanced at the sky and Andy could see his eyes narrow behind his sunglasses. They should probably get him out of there before they had to mop him off the sidewalk.
"We aren't going to find anything else here." She turned and began to walk back to Mick's classic convertible. Despite her feelings for the man, she really fancied his car. Gorgeous and smooth, obviously it was looked after on a constant basis. That said Mick St. John was committed. The sisters needed that from anyone planning to get involved in their messy lives.
"We should wait for Beth," Mona pointed out before they got more than three steps away. Mick winced. He should have thought of that. In his defense, it had been months since Beth would tolerate his presence. If he was honest with himself he'd admit that his decision to support Josef and keep out of Emma's life hadn't been the only thing that had put a wedge between them. Beth wanted him to accept what he was and to involve her in the half of his life he hated. He couldn't do that.
"Right," Andy mumbled, glancing back at the blonde reporter talking to the camera. She didn't have the least idea how long it took to cover a story. Hopefully not for more than thirty minutes. They had work to do.
There was a moment of perfect silence before all hell broke loose. Andy noticed Mick's unnatural stillness, the way his head tilted as he inhaled the air. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Mona knew what was wrong before the rest of them.
"Duck!" she shouted, flattening herself against the concrete. Andy obeyed on instinct. Mick, however, instinctively faced the danger heading right at him. Gunshots vibrated through the air, conquering all other noises for a fraction of a second. Then impact. Mick jerked like a puppet on a string.
Shouting erupted from the murder scene not ten yards away. Andy searched the area as two more shots were fired. When Mick crumpled to the ground, she noticed the boy standing up on the roof of the convenience store right beside them. It was close enough for her to make out his face. Young, pimply but with a confidence only knowing someone with power could bring. He also had good aim.
The boy hurled something small and bright straight at her sister. Andy had enough time to recognize a magically charged crystal before she threw herself in its path. If it had hit an unprotected human, the damage would have been much more severe. As it was Andy's teeth rattled from the impact and the force of it slammed her into a nearby car. She could feel the burn of the pentagram on her arm, its magic awakened by the attack.
It had happened so quickly Andy wasn't able to make sense of it. All of this was so non-lethal. What was Naomi thinking? She knew better than to attack with such pitiful tools. Then came the flood of policemen, reporters, paramedics.
This wasn't an assassination. This was exposure.
"We have to go now," she hissed to her sister, pulling her up and trying to do the same with Mick. However, she'd underestimated how badly he'd been wounded. He hadn't healed. Naomi had a kid shoot their vampire investigator with silver. "Shit." Badly wounded, he couldn't keep his fangs from extending and his eyes bleeding to white.
"Sir, are you all right?" Her panic level flew up several more levels when a paramedic came to lend a hand. Unsure what to do, Andy did the only thing she could think of to distract him from Mick's obviously immortal condition. She punched him in the face.
Mona clumsily helped Mick to his feet and, blind leading the injured, tried to pull him in the direction she could remember the car being in. Andy followed after them quickly, muttering enchantments under her breath. Cameras cracked, film was somehow exposed to direct sunlight. She covered their tracks as best she could then jumped into the driver seat of Mick's car.
"Keys!" she demanded. Mona shoved the keys toward her sister's voice after fishing them out of the depths of Mick's coat.
"Wait a second," Mick rasped. "How long have you been driving?" Andy rolled her eyes as she turned the key in the ignition.
"I swear to the elements, you're completely impossible," she muttered, flooring the accelerator and taking off down the road. Meanwhile, Mona did her best to staunch the flow of blood from Mick's chest. Then she frowned.
"Is something burning?" Andy finally noticed the faint hint of smoke in the air over the adrenaline roaring in her ears. It was her jacket.
"Shit!" she hissed, desperately shrugging out of it. The car swerved and nearly mowed down a parking meter. Mick groaned as his injured body was jarred by the sudden movements.
"Where the hell did you learn to drive? Mr. Toad's Wild Ride?"
"Would you shut up?" she snapped, tossing her jacket out into the street and speeding away from the angry honks. Her tattoo had continued to burn even when the threat had passed. She was just lucky it hadn't happened while cops and reporters had surrounded her. That would have been freaking brilliant. And Naomi would have been thrilled.
It was a blessedly short ride although hauling Mick into the elevator and to his front door hadn't been fun. Andy could see the sympathy pains beginning to wrack her sister's body. Mona always had been sensitive. Once they'd gotten the vampire into his apartment she'd put Mick in a chair near the kitchen and her sister on his couch.
"I should be helping," she protested, batting away Andy's hands.
"No, you should be resisting the urge to sympathize with him fully and take on his wounds. You wouldn't survive them." Mona couldn't think up an argument before Andy hurried into the kitchen. "Okay, Mick, do you have any prongs or something to get those bullets out of you?"
"Bottom drawer," he hissed out. "Although some blood first would be nice."
"Oh, right, that would be smart," Andy muttered to herself. Where did he keep the blood again? Mona had said something about it being hidden behind glasses. She spotted the metallic-looking wall behind a shelf with a line of ornate glasses and smirked. Bingo. Andy felt around for the opening and managed to slide his hidden refrigerator open. There were a few empty vials and a bottle with what looked like a mouthful of blood left. Oh, of course. Like any man he'd let his supplies get too low. "You're out," she told him, going for the bullet tongs instead.
Mick cursed louder than he'd intended. He'd been meaning to go to the morgue today but then there'd been a knock at his door. Too much happened after that for him to remember something as basic as food. He watched Andy's brisk, efficient movements as she gathered what she required from his kitchen. Mick frowned at the scissors she carried towards him.
"What are those for?"
"I don't want to move you anymore than I have to and that shirt is ruined anyway." Before he could protest she cut open his shirt. Andy didn't even blink at the bloody mess that made up Mick's chest. Instead she picked up the tool she needed to dig the bullets out and found the first hole. He snarled, the sound of a wounded animal in pain. It hurt his pride. He was a monster and he couldn't hide that fact from everyone. His fangs extended, his eyes pale with hunger, he knew Andy must have been fighting back repulsion. Even Beth had a great deal of trouble dealing with him in vamp mode. "This is definitely going to hurt," she warned when she clamped down on the bullet and slowly began to drag it out of his chest.
"Damn it!" The arm of the chair snapped under the pressure of his hand and he nearly tumbled out of it. Luckily Andy had gotten the bullet out so she could balance him.
"Careful, Mick. We don't want to lose you this early in the game," she teased lightly. He stared up at her in disbelief. His face was that of a monster, she was pulling silver bullets out of his chest and somehow she managed to tease him. What kind of woman was she?
"Couldn't you wave a wand and do this?" he asked, leaning back into the chair. Andy, for once, didn't act insulted. She knew he needed to talk to distract himself from the pain.
"Wand waving is only good for directing energy. Right now you need the bullets out, not someone channeling power in front of you." Andy managed to grip another bullet. This one slid out easier than the other.
"How old are you, anyway?" Andy quirked a brow at the sudden change of subject.
"Twenty-four," she replied, concentrating on getting that last bullet out. "How about you?"
"Eighty-five," he bit out, gritting his teeth as she worked the silver out of his chest. The minute it was gone he felt better, more relaxed. Then the severe blood loss hit him and all he felt was hungry. Starving. His eyes fixed on the steady pulse in the Andy's wrist.
"Looking good for your age," she complimented, adding the silver bullets she'd removed to the jar of normal bullets she'd found in his kitchen. Obviously he'd been shot quite a few times. Then she noticed where his eyes had drifted. Oh, dear. Andy bit her lip.
She didn't want to be a snack. She really, truly didn't.
At the same time, how could she deny her blood when people who were her enemies and not his had shot him? Well, they were his enemies now but that was only because they'd been hers first and she'd let them to him. "You need to feed," Andy said, her tone resolved. She'd nearly smashed his car into tiny metal pieces. He deserved a little of her blood.
"Yes," Mick agreed before he really understood what she was talking about. When she thrust her wrist in his face he nearly flipped the chair over in his desire to get away. "No!"
"I know it hasn't been bagged then poured into a glass but it's just as good," Andy said, a little insulted as to how vehemently he'd denied her offering. For Goddess's sake, he was starving and even so he didn't want her blood. What a snob!
"I don't feed from humans," he growled unintentionally. Mick couldn't control his voice or his need. If she came another step towards him then twenty-two years of control were going to snap like brittle twigs.
"Pretend I'm the Wicked Witch of the West. You'll feel better." When he didn't respond or move, Andy marched up and prodded one of the still un-healed bullet wounds. She knew it would hurt. That was precisely the point. Mick snarled, gripping her wrists and slamming her into the nearby bookshelf. Andy grunted but didn't struggle. She expected him to bit into her wrist. Instead he sank his fangs into her neck and drank.
"Andy, what's happening?" her sister asked, her tone slightly panicked.
"Nothing, everything's fine," Andy somehow managed to respond with a steady voice. Pressed against the rock-hard muscles of Mick's chest, her pulse raced which pumped the blood faster and gave him more to drink. She'd been all right with the idea of feeding him from her wrist. That was fairly impersonal, less intimate. His mouth on her throat was not at all impersonal.
Andy gripped his arm, wishing she could make her vocal chords work again. She needed him to stop. Her body didn't want him to. She wanted him to bleed her dry then feed her his blood. A new life, a new start. Things she couldn't ever have.
Her body also wanted darker, more wicked things but she put a stranglehold on those thoughts. She'd seen Beth Turner and she'd seen the way Mick looked at her. There was no place for Andy in this vampire's world even if she'd been remotely inclined to seek one. And she wasn't.
"Mick, I'm going to need some of that blood, too," she whispered hoarsely. He immediately let go, drawing away. Andy felt a pang of abandonment. Almost loss. "Feel better?" she asked, covering her marked neck with a shaky hand. He nodded. His eyes were normal again although dark with thought.
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah, fine," she muttered. "You should restock on blood. Oh, and calling Josef to let him know about this mess would be a good idea." Mick nodded and the two of them went back to work. Mick temporarily buried his guilt while Andy smothered any complicated feelings.
They did not need any more problems.
