Twenty-Eight

In retrospect, Leah shouldn't have been surprised.

It was only a matter of time.

For months, she and the Voldemort Taskforce had been monitoring numerous covens-turned-criminal-organizations. They already obtained numerous warrants and evidence as well as multiple informants and arrests under their belt. They were planning to participate in the most anticipated-raid of the year, and from what Paul had said, the task force was not going to be disbanded anytime soon.

So, of course, the Volturi was going to want some answers.

Leah just didn't want to be the person to answer them.

She supposed it could've been worse. She wasn't tied to a chair, sitting under a basement light, begging for her life. Instead, she was inside of a well-furnished conference room located on the second floor of an office building. Granted, the office building was in the middle of a nearly-vacant office park, but it honestly could have been worse.

She could try to leave. Call in the dogs. But deep inside, she knew that she couldn't simply leave without the blessing of the woman sitting across from her. She had to remain strong and devise a plan to get out of this situation in one piece.

She could do it.

"You have not called for backup," Jane remarked, masking her amazement as she tapped her fingers along the conference table. She had spent the last few minutes staring the detective down through her steely amber eyes, waiting for her to break. "Interesting."

"Should I have?" Leah asked smoothly.

Jane's gaze hardened, but Leah didn't falter under it. Being a seasoned detective, she could detect another's tenseness and fear from miles away. Jane, being a centuries-old vampire, could do so as well.

"It was wise that you didn't."

"I figured that," Leah replied, placing her hands on the table. She still had her gun, but she needed to make sure that Jane was assured that Leah wasn't going to use it. After all, it wasn't going to affect the vampire; the bullets inside the weapon weren't UV's.

"Do you know who I am?" Jane asked, eyes now focused on Leah's hands as if she had fully expected the detective to pull out her weapon.

"Who doesn't?"

"Good. Therefore, you know why I'm here."

"Actually, I don't. So, what do you want from me?"

"Andrew Sullivan."

Of course.

From the moment he had agreed to do business with Demetri, and by extent, the Volturi, the man had been a target. He had made a deal with the devil and with the police, and if hadn't been for him being under constant surveillance, Andrew Thomas Sullivan, married with children, would be dead.

"What about him?"

"He's gone. He is never gone. He knows the rules, and then suddenly, he's gone," Jane said, voice betraying nothing. But Leah could sense that she was frustrated; the vampire wouldn't have brought her here if she wasn't. I figured he had talked with your people after that very public arrest. Witness protection, I assume?"

"I can't tell you that."

Jane wasn't surprised by the answer. "I know. I thought I would ask." She leaned back against her chair and asked calmly, "What brings you here to Napolitano's, Detective?"

Leah had to play it safe. "I'm just doing my job."

"So, am I."

Leah cleared her throat and sat up in her seat. "I'm not going to divulge anything," she vowed. "No matter who you are. You're not going to get anything from me."

"I see..."

That was an infuriating response from an increasingly infuriating woman. Jane was tough to read. Sure, Leah could detect some emotion, but nothing that would be entirely beneficial to the case. Jane wasn't going to tell her a damn thing for she was the one running the show. She made the decisions—

"Is this the moment when you torture and kill me?" Leah asked. She had seen this scenario before, usually from the outside looking in. She didn't know if Jane had planned to kill her, but she knew the vampire could do was. She never had an issue ending someone's life. Even cops.

Jane raised an eyebrow. Amusement seeped through her impassive exterior as if she was trying her best not to laugh at Leah's question.

Leah didn't appreciate it. "Well?"

"I must say," Jane started, eyeing the detective up and down. A smirk played on her lips. "You have a lot of courage for a human. My superiors would appreciate that."

Leah sassed against her better judgment, but she couldn't retreat now. She had presented herself to Jane as someone who refused to back down. "You didn't answer my question."

"Who taught you not to fear my kind?" Jane asked, sitting up in her chair. She leaned closer to the table with her hands folded on it. "You seem to be a knowledgeable individual. You know who I am, what I am, and that I can kill you with a simple snap of my finger. And yet, here you are."

Perhaps, courage was all Leah had at this time, being at the mercy of such an infamous vampire.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"I do not kill unless I am told to," Jane admitted. "And my superiors have not told me to do so."

Leah didn't know how she felt about that response. "And why is that?"

"It has been brought to my attention that the Denali case has been transferred to the FBI."

Leah blinked; Jane shouldn't have known that. Unless, "You have a source," she realized though there honestly wasn't a point in asking. Jane worked for the mob; the mob, even some wanted to admit it or not, always had someone in law enforcement. Especially in this city—Leah snorted and shook her head. "Of course, you fucking do."

Jane wasn't going to confirm or deny anything. She completely disregarded the accusation. "That was very wise of your captain," she said. "Transferring you to—"

"My captain would want nothing more than you rip your heads off."

"Your qualms are not with us."

Leah narrowed her eyes. "Bullshit."

"That is one thing I do not spew: bullshit." Jane retorted, amber eyes flashing red, but she quickly calmed down. "Your problems are with the Cullens, Victoria, and the Velasquez...not us."

Leah suppressed the urge to snort. "Your people were involved in the destruction of Mike's."

"But no humans were killed during such event," Jane reminded the detective as if that would make a difference. Perhaps, it would, according to the Deal, but Leah refused to play by that dubiously legal contract's rules." "What happened at Mike's is none of your concern. Now, with the Cullen's and the Denali's and Victoria, humans were killed in such—"

"Demetri Karlov killed Jessica Stanley," Leah retorted, slamming a hang on the table, causing Jane to raise a curious eyebrow. Her lack of overt action was killing Leah. "Demetri Karlov killed Gianna Castellano—"

Jane snorted. "Gianna..."

"Yeah, Gianna."

"Ah." Jane nodded. "That explains all of the questioning you did downstairs." She nodded again. "Gianna, how interesting? It seems that the Chicago Police Department still loves putting all of their resources into cases involving simpletons."

Leah didn't know if Gianna had been a "simpleton," but even if she were, it wouldn't matter. Gianna was a victim of a presumed murder within the city lines of Chicago. It was a CPD homicide case, simple as that.

"She still deserves justice."

"I guess you're right," Jane said. Despite her words, she was completely dismissing Leah's. "Well then," she carried on, twice tapping the table. "I suppose our conversation is finished."

"Good."

Leah looked behind her to see the guards backing off, indicating that she could stand up and was free to leave.

"I'd watch out if I were you," Jane advised. She wasn't trying to be funny—Leah doubted she had a funny or sarcastic bone in her boy. It was sound advice, laced with a threat. "I would hate to see something happen to you. Especially with your wise now wide open. It would have been such a waste in potential."

"Go to Hell."

Jane smirked.

"I have no words."

"Jacob—"

"I can't believe you did that."

Leah sighed.

Now, Jacob was just being dramatic. Leah was fine. She had been fine. Jane had let her leave without any ramifications. No one was trailing her; there wasn't some random car outside, full of people spying on her—Jacob had told her so. Sure, she was currently at Jacob's place, inside his living, on his couch with a cup of hot tea in her slightly trembling hands. But she was fine.

"I didn't think I was going to bump into Jane," Leah maintained, taking a sip of her tea. She wanted to dump a pound of sugar into it but then was reminded of her diet. "I just happened to be in the area. I just wanted to stop by and check it out."

"Yeah, at Napolitano's. What did you expect was going to happen?" Jacob almost shrieked, still pacing around his living with his hands in his hair, occasionally pulling on it. He was far more concerned than Leah was. "Jane basically lives there."

Well, Leah hadn't known that then.

"All I wanted to do was see if I can get some information out of Gianna's coworkers," Leah explained. "That was all. She used to work there. Someone at Napolitano's had to something."

"Next time, when you decide to pull a stunt like that, can you, at least, let me know?"

"She didn't want me to call in backup."

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to either. Did she—?"

Leah shook her head. "She said she wouldn't kill me because her bosses didn't command her to."

"Oh, my fucking—" Jacob brought a hand to his forehead and groaned. "Don't you ever do that again."

"You can't tell me what to do."

"Usually, you're absolutely right. But not in this case." Jacob finally stopped moving around and asked, "Does she know about the raid?"

"I don't... know," Leah admitted. "I mean, she knew about Sullivan, but I'm sure she was able to find out through other mediums. It wasn't really a secret that Andrew was going into hiding. She didn't ask anything about it. In fact, she seemed surprised, but only a second, when I told her that Demetri killed Gianna."

"We don't officially know that."

"I know," Leah said. "I was trying to get the point across."

Jacob ran a hand down his face. "Jesus."

Leah's gaze dropped. She didn't want to admit it, but she understood why Jacob was so concerned. Jane was lethal; despite her appearance, even the most hardened of criminals feared her. Mike feared her. The fact that Leah had the opportunity to sit on Jacob's couch unscathed was a miracle.

"I—"

Leah wanted to apologize to Jacob for causing so much worry. It wasn't fair to him. It was Friday night; the man was supposed to be enjoying his night before spending the next couple of days not working. But here he was…

But here she was.

Leah looked around the room before stopping at Jacob and sighed. It finally hit her; the reason why she had come straight to Jacob's from Napolitano's in Cicero. She was safe here because Jacob was here. Maybe underneath her nonchalant shell was fear.

The thought unnerved her, but she couldn't focus on it for too long. Not with Jacob resuming his frantic pacing, scratching at his arms to the point where blood was beginning to seep through the broken skin. She shot up from the couch and rushed to her partner—no, friend; what they had was past simple professional camaraderie.

"What's wrong?" she asked, holding out of her arms as she inched closer to him. She didn't know what to do; grabbing onto his arms was too risky, not to mention futile. Physically, he was much stronger than her; he could get out of her hold without breaking a sweat, maybe inadvertently injuring her in the process.

Jacob seemed too aggravated with his body, with his arms. Like he wanted to rip them off. "Nothing," he insisted unconvincingly through gritted teeth. He was still scratching. "I get this... it's nothing."

"It's obviously something." Leah swallowed at the sight. "Do you need medicine or...?"

"I haven't phased in a while."

"Oh."

"Leah, I'm fine…" Jacob trailed off, groaning as he crouched over, hugging his torso. "Get back."

Leah took a few steps back, watching in amazement and fear as Jacob—she didn't know how to explain it— changed.

She could recall Jacob mentioning to her, sometime back, about the phasing being quick. So quick that one wouldn't even process it on time, but this one seemed more tortured. Extremely painful—she didn't know what to do but watch as he transformed from a man to wolf, cringing along the way at the sound of rearranging bones.

She couldn't call 911; doing so would have made things so much worse. She could call Paul or Embry, but her phone was charging at the other side of the living. It was only about fifteen feet away, but at this moment, it could have been a mile.

Leah jumped back.

When it was over, Jacob didn't howl. He didn't make a move. He just stood there, staring at Leah through the most intense eyes she had ever seen. His entire body moved as he breathed heavily.

Leah was frozen in place. It took her a few moments to snap out of her shock—she couldn't be here alone. She didn't know how to help him or know if Jacob actually needed help. She needed to call someone.

Jacob's eyes followed her every move, but he didn't take a step. Leah carefully went to the other side of the living room, picked up her phone, and quickly texted Embry—Get your ass over Jacob's. Now.

Be there in ten.

Leah pocketed her phone and began to approach Jacob slowly. She had no idea what the fuck she was doing; this was uncharted territory. The last time she had seen Jacob in this form, the only time, had been back in February. And he had been far calmer than he was now.

For the next several minutes, Leah endured the most uncomfortable staring contest of her life.

But at least, she wasn't scared anymore. Just worried. Extremely worried.

She nearly jumped off the couch at the sound of the ringing doorbell. Taking one look at Jacob, who still wasn't moving, she rushed to the front door, peeped through the peephole, thanked every deity under the sun, and opened.

"Embry, thank fuck."

Embry said his greetings and then looked behind Leah. His eyes widened. "What happened?" he asked.

"Um... he shifted abruptly."

"But why?"

Leah didn't have the energy to explain. "Get inside."

"I'm sorry about Friday," Leah told Jacob the following Monday. She hadn't spoken to him over the weekend, too afraid that she would make things worse. "I know I shouldn't have done that. I know I shouldn't have gone to Napolitano's alone—"

"No need to apologize, Leah," Jacob insisted, returning Leah's report. They occasionally read over each other's reports before submission to make sure that all of the facts were consistent. Paul wanted everything completed before lunchtime. "Shit happens."

"But I forced you to, you know, do that," Leah said; she couldn't understand why the hell her partner was letting her off the hook. She had caused him to phase. "What if someone had noticed? Like your neighbors? You could have been in big trouble."

Jacob wasn't too concerned about the prospect. "No one would have said anything."

"Bullshit."

"Honestly. Most of the tenants aren't, I guess you can call it, normal. Trust me, if anyone was going to call me in for noise, I'd been kicked out and plastered all of the front-page news years ago."

"I don't understand…"

"My landlord can be an unforgiving asshole sometimes, but he is sympathetic to the ploy of the supernatural," Jacob explained. "From what I heard, one of his kids turned into an actual werewolf, and... it's hard not being human in the city. With everyone living nearby."

"So, he brought an apartment building exclusively for the supernatural."

"Not exclusively."

Never in Leah's life had she heard about these kinds of buildings. It did make sense, but still. And the fact that it was a well-kept secret was incredible. "How hasn't this leaked to the papers?" she asked. "Or social media?"

"We specialize in hiding ourselves," Jacob said. "And keeping our mouths shut."

"Well... I'm sorry about everything."

"I just didn't want anything to happen to you."

Leah closed her eyes and sighed. This man was going to drive her up the wall over his protectiveness. He was becoming just as bad as Sue. "I'm not made out of glass."

"Yeah, I know," Jacob said quietly. "But it still doesn't change a thing."

Leah wasn't going to delve into that. It was too early in the damn morning for any heart-to-hearts. She glanced down at her report, placed it aside, and asked quietly, "So, you phase when you're nervous?"

"Freaking out," Jacob corrected. "I'm usually in control of it."

"So, what happened Friday night?"

"Like I said, Leah: I don't want anything had to happen to you. You've been through enough."

"So, he basically phased because of you."

Leah hadn't told Embry a damn thing about her stunt. She supposed he must have extracted the information out of Jacob. "It was an accident," she said. "I did something really stupid. He freaked out, and... yeah."

Despite Jacob's words, she still felt bad. She had managed to stress Jacob out to the point where he had been forced to phase.

Embry picked up a doughnut from the Dunkin Donut's box. He seemed a bit taken aback, stunned, confused, worried, concerned— looks that didn't look suit well on him. "Oh, boy," he said before he swallowed down a doughnut.

Leah didn't like how the cop said those words, but she brushed it aside to ask, "Does he do that often?" she accepted an old-fashioned doughnut from Embry. "I know he said he could rein it in, but..."

Embry raised both eyebrows, and then breathed out, "Oh, boy."

"Saying what? Oh. Oh, no," Embry stopped as his face flushed. He quickly shook it away and reached out for another doughnut. The treats were technically for everyone at the station, but Embry didn't seem to care. "It's nothing. Yeah, he doesn't do that often. Actually, I've never seen it happen. Well, what do you know...?"

Embry couldn't lie to save his life; he was clearly hiding something. But Leah wasn't going to press it. He had done her a huge favor by coming over Jacob's on Friday night.

Leah had received the news on Wednesday morning.

"Carlisle's dead."

She nearly dropped her coffee. "How do you know?"

"Victoria was gloating all about it this morning. She didn't... do anything, but apparently, the old man didn't come back from those gunshot wounds."

"Shit."

"Look, I don't wanna sound..." Riley trailed off, moving his hand in a circular motion as if doing so would provide him the right words. He didn't want to sound concerned, worried. Petrified. "The Cullen's are gonna blame us. They're gonna blame the Volturi, and they ain't going away quietly."

"So, what is your boss going to do?" Leah asked. Carlisle's death had implications, not only because of the Dahlia case but because of the upcoming raid. It suddenly became a lot more personal for the Olympic coven.

It was a pleasant morning. The sun was out. The humidity was low. The air smelled fresh with birds chirping around, clear signs that the duo was outside of the bustling city. They were back on the bridge outside of Chicago. A couple of runners were running in the path below, but no one was paying them any mind, especially with their earphones on. A few cars were passing by on the distant road running parallel to the bridge, but none deemed suspicious.

Despite all of this, meeting up with Riley in the early morning wasn't ideal, but none of his coworkers worked during these hours; the supernatural seemed to prefer conducting their affairs at night.

"She doesn't have much faith in Edward, who's now in charge," Riley admitted. His face contorted in a way that told the detective that he didn't share his boss' views. "She believes things will go on as planned."

"And you?"

Riley shrugged. "Does it matter?" he asked. "I'm just a newborn. I'm nothing but a bottom feeder in her eyes. My opinion doesn't matter."

"It matters to me," Leah said honestly. "Your opinions and intel have helped me tremendously," and then, "Hey, if you're concerned about retaliation or anything, I can see if I can, you know, help you out."

Dishing out witness protection offers wasn't something Leah often did. But if she wasn't going to get Lauren on board, maybe she could try with Riley... although, deep inside, she didn't have much faith in her ability to convince him. The man seemed determined to sort this "Bree-issue" out himself.

"I ain't running away."

Leah sighed.

Just as she suspected.

"I hope they catch her," Riley said. "It'll be good for the crew. We gotta get someone with a better head. Someone who's not gonna go to war against you for looking at her the wrong way. Or kill off half of your newborn army for the hell of it."

"I'm assuming that Laurent's second in charge?"

Riley confirmed with a nod.

"What happens if both are taken out?" Leah asked. "Who's in charge then?"

"No one."

"Be careful, will you?"

Leah was confident that the young man, the young newborn, could manage on his own. He had lasted this long, but she had a feeling that everyone involved needed to watch their back. One of these days, Leah couldn't pinpoint when someone was going to find out about their meetings... despite taking precautions, the secret would always come out.

But Riley didn't seem concerned. He dismissed Leah's words with a wave and said, feigning coolness, "Yeah, whatever," and then after a moment of silence, "Catch you later."

By the time Leah returned to the station, everyone in the task force had learned of Carlisle's death. The only one who didn't seem to be fazed by the shocking news was Benjamin.

"It was only a matter of time," he told Paul, sitting between Embry and Leah with Jacob pacing back and forth behind them. "I told you guys that even if he survived, he wasn't going to be the same. Edward would still be in charge."

"You did," Embry confirmed, and then asked, "But what does this mean?"

"That there's a damn good chance that the Cullen's are going to want some answers during that meeting," Paul said. "Fuck."

"But isn't that good?" Jacob asked. "We'll have everyone more or less in the same area. Arrest all their asses right then and there."

"He has a point," Benjamin added.

Paul put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, pensive. "Leah?"

"Yes, Paul."

"Let Jenks know about this," Paul ordered. "I'm sure he's going to be interested in this new development. Embry and Jacob, squeeze some more information out of Mike. He's working on a plea deal with the attorney's office. Remind him that if he doesn't give us what we want in 48 hours, he can kiss his freedom goodbye." His attention turned to Benjamin, "And you, talk to your guys and see if this raid is still going on. If we know about Carlisle, then I'm sure they do."

"He wants a trial."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"I don't know why he wants one. He's looking at, at least, fifteen years, in prison with all of his priors, and I'm not even talking about once the feds get their hands on him. He's been a mob liaison for years; he's done."

"What about his lawyer, Shapiro? The man's a douchebag, but he knows his stuff. Surely, he doesn't think Mike's getting out of this unscathed."

"Usually, in cases like these, people don't take a plea because they know— everyone will know—that they are a rat. The mob doesn't like rats. They tend to exterminate them."

"So, someone's pulling strings."

"His and Lauren's."

"And he's still out on bail."

"There's nothing we can do about that. Even with Judge Lawson now presiding over the case. Violation of the Eighth Amendment."

"Shit."

"Not all's lost, Detective, I see things are going to get interesting in the upcoming weeks."

"Carlisle's dead."

"Yes, I heard."

"This has ramifications, Counselor."

Jenks sighed as he reached out for his box of trusted cigars. He offered one to Leah, who respectfully declined. He then the tobacco up, took one long, seemingly satisfying drag, and said, "Edward Masen, the man who tried to bribe Dr. Swan into sabotaging the Dahlia's autopsy, is officially the big man of the family. Initially, I was bothered by this new development, but then after some thinking, I've realized that this gives us an opportunity.

Leah found that hard to believe, but then again, she wasn't a prosecutor. "Like what?"

"Carlisle's gone, which means that the family is under new management. At least, officially. Someone's not going to like the change, and that usually results in some friction."

"They seemed to be fine with Edward ever since Mike's."

"Yeah, but that arrangement was only supposed to be temporary," Jenks pointed out. "Plus, if we take Edward down, which we most likely will during the raid, we remove the head of the Cullen Family, and they'll plunge into chaos."

"Not necessarily," Leah argued. "Someone can quickly take the rein until he's set free."

"No one else is capable of keeping that family running," Jenks said. "Emmett's five seconds away from going into Alcatraz whether he talks or not. Jasper—he wouldn't do that to himself. The Denalis can try, but there will be a rebellion if Tanya dares to take the throne."

"But what about the wife?" Leah asked. "I've seen this happen plenty of times before. The patriarch is in prison for how many years, and the wife comes along and covers for him. Gets pointers from him during the prison visits... I know Esme's been playing the housewife role for decades, but she's also been around for decades. She can't be that oblivious, especially since she has Edward's ear."

"You're really pushing for Esme to be the mastermind."

Leah didn't want to admit it; she didn't wish Jenks to see her as being short-sighted. But Esme—there was just something about that woman that screamed instigator. "I'm just covering all the bases," she said. "If you haven't noticed, there's a horde of them."

"Look, once this whole raid-thing blows over, just give me probable cause, maybe some concrete evidence, and I'll start with the indictments," Jenks said. "Just be careful, will you?"

"Always am."