Dinner was long forgotten. In fact, breakfast remains littered the tables. The conference room buzzed with activity, if not energy. They were all dragging. Over twenty-four hours on the job. Only the hope of a major break in the case kept them going.
"Cat, you got anything?" Jane was in her element. She'd been driving all of them to dig deeper. Check one more time.
Cat hated to disappoint her. "Not yet. Margaret Tinsale, Avery Little's first therapist, has a thriving practice in Beacon Hill. I didn't want to pull the Cop Card and tip our hand.
"And?" That one word was really Jane saying, "Get to the point."
"Tinsale's well-known and wealthy enough to hire law students for her phone service. Unless we wanted to get chapter and verse on the HIPAA laws and the name of Tinsale's lawyer, I had to get creative." She waited a beat to give her next announcement more weight. "I called Tinsale's service and claimed to be a prospective client referred by Janelle Little. The service found an available appointment at eight o'clock this morning."
Jane paced in frustration. "What else do we have?"
This was Frost's area of expertise. "I tracked the First Legion through financials and articles of incorporation. The company says it's a social group, think only in person. They host meet and greets for Dominants and submissives in the same type of work – that's what Paula Benton attended in November. Their online calendar also shows involvement in local charities and a variety of self-help groups. The founder, Jonathan Stewart, is scheduled to speak at several Red Cuff groups over the next few weeks."
"Can we tie the rest of the victims to these parties?" Jane asked.
Korsak and Faith were buried in the case files. "Not yet. We didn't find anything else in the reports or evidence." Being Korsak, he couldn't resist a wink at Faith (and then a charming "see I'm harmless" smile at Tara). "I thought me and the kid here could check out the venues for the last few Legion events and flash photos of the victims."
Not looking completely convinced of Korsak's innocent intentions, Tara nodded her reluctant approval of his plan. "Barry, I convinced the Council to grant you temporary access to their databases and online files. I sent you contact information for Willow Rosenberg. She's in charge of Global Information Systems and Security. She'll walk you through how to get in – and what your boundaries are. Jonathan Stewart is on the Council's Watch List. He recently purchased bars in Boston and several other major cities on the East coast."
"Places to host more Legion events?" Cat asked.
"We don't think so. At least two of the purchased locations are rumored to be fronts for blood bars," Tara answered. "Places where vampires feed on humans who think hosting is romantic or a way to immortality."
Cat grimaced. "Yuck. Why would anyone want to do that?" Wouldn't it hurt? And who thought blood-drinking demons were romantic?
"You got your regular sickos, tiger. In the Slayer World, we got our own." Faith's smile was far from amused. "Ain't got all the pieces of the puzzle yet. I get Avery Little wantin' to play with vamps. They Turn you, all the human memories go away. You forget you ain't got some hot sub at home to keep you company. Had to seem like a good idea."
The words stole Cat's breath. There was no way Faith could understand what she'd just said, or how much they hurt.
While Cat stared blankly at the crime reports in front of her, Faith continued, "The rest of the vics didn't seem the type."
"Before we check out that angle, let's see how the victims are connected to the Legion," Jane cautioned. "The last thing we want is the press to get a hold of the idea that the murder victims were all crazed vampire worshippers."
Career suicide for sure. Cat almost cared about that. Almost.
"Cat, meet with Tinsale." Jane was still in General mode. "Find out if she sent Avery Little to any of the support groups Frost connected to the Legion. Then visit as many of the groups as you can. Do whatever you need to get information. The Deputy Superintendent wants an update so I'm stuck here."
"I'll go with Detective McClearen." They'd all forgotten about Tara. She smiled slightly when everyone turned her way. "Some of those groups were aimed at bonded couples. I'll tag along in case Cat needs a Domme for the Day."
What? Cat looked from Tara to Faith – and then to Jane for help. "I'm sure Faith would be a better option." Without warning, Cat found herself trying to preserve the clear bond between Faith and Tara. "I wouldn't…It's not…"
The more she verbally faltered, the wider Tara smiled.
Faith was even worse. She laughed. "You think you got what it takes to steal T?" Her smirk said there was no possible way.
Cat couldn't decide if she was insulted or relieved by Faith's faith in her bond. There was also a part of her that wanted to tell Faith that she wasn't interested in stealing Tara.
"You're going to have to be brave, Detective. No one else in the task force will be able to make this work," Tara stated sternly. "We're hunting vampires. Taking a Slayer – even if she is my sub – won't work. The vampires would all run away. Maura isn't loaning me Jane. And Barry," she winked at Frost, "isn't really my style."
Korsak had to chime in. "I'd wear a collar for you, Ma'am."
Even Cat laughed at that. He might look like a big teddy bear, but Cat had seen him with his sub Dana. The teddy bear had big teeth.
"Thank you, Vince." Tara raised an eyebrow at him and nodded at the floor. He didn't budge, and his eyes stayed level. "And with that, I'll declare Cat my sub for today. I'm not wearing out my arm and a lot of leather to prove a point." She and Korsak exchanged a look with weird Dominant vibes. "Take good care of my girl, Vince."
His chuckle coincided with Faith's "I don't need a keeper."
Tara's eyes flashed the same cold blue that Cat remembered from her private conversation in the break room. However, she didn't say anything out loud in response to Faith's protest. From the way Faith straightened and her chin dipped, Cat suspected a very firm warning had been issued through their bond.
"I'll make sure she comes back in once piece, Tara. Don't you worry." Vince smiled sunnily. "The kid and I are just going to ask some questions and maybe enjoy lunch at the South Street Diner. I'll be the envy of every Dominant there." Faith's reluctant smile only made Korsak's grow wider.
"Well, my new sub needs a change of clothes." Tara turned her attention to Cat, who worked very hard not to squirm. "So do I. Doctor Tinsale's clientele probably doesn't show up in jeans or combat boots." She didn't appear embarrassed by her wardrobe. "Cat and I will dress the part; it would be hard to pose as a couple in need of a support group or social events once our real identities were out in the open."
By the time Tara parked in front of Dr. Tinsale's Revere Street townhouse, Cat vowed never to get in a car with anyone again. She was sick to death of uncomfortable rides. Tara had been completely silent during their short trips to Tara's hotel and Cat's apartment. Nothing more than polite commands to "dress to impress" and an offhand "wait in the car."
Well, Cat wasn't waiting in the car now. She was a detective. Tara was on her turf now. As soon as the car stopped, Cat sprang from the car. The morning was bright and bitterly cold. She pulled her silk scarf closer around her neck and flipped up the collar of her heavy thigh-length shearling coat. Matching gloves covered her fingers. The need to charge into the building and demand answers thrummed through Cat.
Unfortunately, that need warred with department policy and common sense. Tempering her impatience, Cat waited for Tara to join her on the sidewalk. The change in clothes turned Tara from hippy to Dominant power broker. Dressed in head to toe black, hair styled and loose, she could easily have stepped out of one of the neighboring Beacon Hill homes.
Tara gripped Cat by the wrist and led her to Tinsale's front door. It opened with the gentle sound of wooden wind chimes, and a polished receptionist showed her perfectly capped teeth. "Good morning. Dr. Tinsale is with a patient. If you'll just sign in, I'll let you know when she's available to begin your appointment."
The charade began. With a gentle shove and a snap of Tara's fingers, Cat found herself kneeling next to a chair in the very contemporary sitting room. Tara filled out the paperwork. "I'm afraid my schedule is very tight. Will Dr. Tinsale be free soon?"
"Yes, Ma'am," the receptionist assured Tara. "Dr. Tinsale understands that your time is very valuable."
And that her fees were exorbitant, Cat thought. She shifted a little and glanced around the room through her lashes. The furniture smelled of money and made Cat glad to be kneeling on the floor. Chairs in neon reds and yellows, with oddly shaped backs and short seats, shared space with low tables that looked like blobs of cookie dough with thumbprints in the top. Contemporary artwork filled the walls. One particularly puzzling piece reminded Cat of a yellow square wrapped in white tissue paper.
Her examination ended abruptly when her eyes met Tara's. The black clothing enhanced the chill in Tara's laser-like glare. "Would you have a restroom my girl and I might use?" she asked the receptionist without looking away from Cat.
Cat wiggled like a bug pinned in placed. Should she apologize?
Tara's eyes narrowed further and her head moved ever so slightly back and forth.
Right. Apologies would only highlight Cat's already poor behavior. She very carefully took the position Faith had been in after she'd upset Tara. See? I can be the perfect sub, Cat tried to say through her posture.
"Right down this hallway. I'll buzz you through." The receptionist sounded sympathetic, as if she was embarrassed for Tara. "If Dr. Tinsale becomes available, I'll let her know you needed a moment alone."
Even though Cat was playing a part, her stomach twisted. If Cat had really been Tara's sub, she would have done anything to avoid disappointing her.
"Thank you. We won't be long." Tara strode to Cat and wrapped a hand in her hair. Without a word, she began walking toward the door the receptionist had indicated. Cat went with her in order to keep her hair attached to her head.
A buzz sounded and the door popped open. Tara shoved it open and dragged Cat into a small bathroom. Once the door closed behind them, Tara released Cat. "Sorry." Her smile was strained. "I don't normally go for the caveman approach. I suddenly realized I'd forgotten to take care of something back at the hotel."
Cat watched in confusion as Tara unbuttoned Cat's coat and removed the silk scarf Cat had wrapped around her neck.
"We're supposed to be a couple, Cat." Tara's eyes shimmered with tears and she gently touched Cat's face. "I'm so sorry. This isn't going to be easy for you." With sure hands, she removed Cat's coat and unbuckled the cuff on Cat's right wrist.
Disbelieving, numb, unable to move, Cat stood stock still as the red leather disappeared into Tara's purse. Her wrist felt cold and she rubbed it uneasily. "Tara?" Her heart pounded as she finally understood what was happening. She should have known. They'd planned to masquerade as a couple. "Tara, I can't. I can't." Even at the club, Cat was never collared. Collaring was…it was special. A symbol of more than ownership.
"Yes, you can, Cat." Tara reached into her purse again and removed a shallow, wide box. Opening it revealed a collar similar to the one Faith wore. "Kneel, sweetie." One hand touched Cat's shoulder and pressed until she dropped to the floor. "I offer this collar as a sign of my commitment to you, Cat. For as long as you wear it, I give you my protection, my care, and my discipline."
The metal links were cool when Tara wrapped them around Cat's neck. The snick of the lock echoed in Cat's head and she trembled violently.
"Easy, sweetie. I've got you." Tara pulled Cat in close until her head rested against Tara's stomach. Cat felt Tara press a kiss to the top of her head – and that opened the floodgates. Tears soaked the front of Tara's coat, and sobs ripped from her throat until they both shuddered from the force.
Through it all, Tara held on tight, whispering encouragement in Cat's ear and stroking through Cat's hair.
Finally, Cat managed to stop crying; although, her breath hitched in the occasional hiccup. "Sorry. I…"
A single finger pressed over Cat's lips, stopping the apology. "You've done nothing wrong, Cat." Tara gently wiped a few tears off Cat's cheeks with her other hand. "Let's go back into the waiting room. We need to be ready for Dr. Tinsale." Her lips tilted in an impish smile. "And you look the picture of a perfectly disciplined and remorseful sub."
