Pent Up

by Alondubh

Arrested on suspicion of murder and arson for the death of Lola Whitaker, Mick must rely on Beth and Josef to clear his name...before he is exposed as a vampire.

f the characters and story line belong to CBS, I'm just abusi

Moonlight is the property of its creators and CBS, no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 1

Vampires do their best to avoid public scrutiny. They don't interfere with secret witnesses, they don't kill suspects, they don't blow up warehouses, and most importantly…they don't get caught at a nightclub with the girlfriend of the District Attorney.

So what happens to a vampire who does those things? Quality time at the city jail. And why? Maybe it was fate catching up, telling him that it was time to leave the city. Maybe the understandably upset DA decided to investigate him…. Or maybe it just wasn't his week.

"Beth, this is the fifth murder investigation you and your detective friend have been involved in this month. Why is that?" Josh nodded as the coroner supervised the body bag being loaded into the back of the ambulance.

Beth glared at the frustration so evident on Josh's face. As much as she loved Josh, she knew he was aching to pin something on St. John...especially after their dismal anniversary. "In case you haven't noticed, I am a crime reporter. Josh. A crime reporter. That means I report things like, oh, kidnapping, assault…murder."

Beth thought for a second, "Okay, lately it's been mostly murder. But It's not like I'm pulling the trigger…or beating women with baseball bats. Mick had nothing to do with this." She nodded towards the body bag.

"You missed being here for the murder by twenty minutes. She's only been dead an hour. He. Could. Have. Killed. You."

"Or I could have saved her had I shown up earlier." Sure, Beth knew the guy could have tried going for a double homicide, but why would he? She hadn't been the one who posted the less than family oriented pictures on his wife's website. He'd killed the victim for personal reasons. Very personal; hence the baseball bat. Had Beth been there, she probably could have diffused the situation. "The guy would have left."

"So you do know who did this?"

"Yeah. Got video of him too. But you still haven't given me back my last tape, you know… from the model?"

"That was part of an investigation. Which still hasn't closed as far as I'm concerned. You're protecting someone, Beth, and I'm tired of it." Josh studied her from head to toe, stopping dead when he reached her leg. "What the…?"

Beth flinched at the cold glare in his eyes. None of the warmth that had kept their relationship alive was there…he'd turned it off like a switch. Instead there was naked raw pain and suspicion.

"Josh? You're looking at me as though I'm a suspect. What is it?" She paused, hoping he would answer. Maybe she was wrong…maybe he was tired or something. "Josh?"

"There's blood spray on your pants...high velocity…small drops." Eyes wide in shock…he met her gaze. "You lied about not being here for the murder. I can't believe it."

"What?" Beth hastily glanced down at her leg, and sure enough, an arc of blood misted across the calf of her beige Ralph Lauren pants. "How did that…what the?" She hadn't been here for the murder. How did that get there?

"I didn't…I wasn't. Josh, I wasn't here. It's not her blood. I mean…I touched her when I turned her over. But she was already dead. There was no blood spraying anywhere. I would've noticed."

"Save it. I don't want to know." Josh focused on the wall behind her. "I can't believe you're protecting him…again. I am not even going to investigate this case. I'm off of it. Done."

"But…I."

"No, Beth." He swallowed. "No. I can't do this. Tell it to Detective Adams." Josh shook his head again, before walking numbly away. As he passed Adams, he said a few quiet words that Beth couldn't make out and left. The door closed behind him with a quiet final click.

Beth was still processing his accusations when the detective stepped towards her with a notebook in one latex covered hand and an evidence bag in another. Nothing in the detective's body movement spelled friendship. Great, just great.

Mick stood over the answering machine, swirling his liquid breakfast in a crystal goblet as he listened to the messages. Seven messages. Busy day. Beth was supposed to show up in about an hour to go over the casework for the missing Julia Norton, and he still needed to shower.

Swallowing the last mouthful of blood he grimaced as yet another message inquiring about his progress on the jewelry case was going. The man's wining tone made him cringe. Who'd have thought a man would be so desperate to retrieve a wedding ring when he'd given it to his lover to pawn in the first place? Mick shouldn't have taken the case. Ah well. He'd get around to it…eventually. As the next message queued up he rinsed the glass in the sink.

"Mick! Call me when you get in? Alicia Norton called saying her cousin contacted her. He threatened to kill her because of the website. Message received at 12:53 pm."

Mick frowned. Alicia Norton had posted pictures of her first cousin Frank sleeping around on his wife Julia…on Julia's personal website. Then Julia had disappeared. If Frank caught up with Alicia, things wouldn't be good. Alicia had hired him to find Julia three days after posting the pictures.

"Mick? You there? Look, Alicia just called again. She's really worried that Frank is outside. I'm heading over there now. Call me when you get in. Message received at 3:48 pm."

Glass forgotten in his hand, Mick glared at the machine. No…she wouldn't have. Beth…was too smart for that. Right? He regarded the machine, lost in an image of his ever so smart Beth going undercover at the university to stop a vampire. Who was he kidding? She would do that. Damn. Hopefully she was bringing a police escort. Dreading what was coming next, Mick waited for message five of seven to play.

"Eh…Mick. Mick? Get UP! Mick! She's dead. Mick? Can you hear me? I know you're there. Mick! Alicia is dead. I need you here. Mick! Okay…I'm calling the police. Call me when you get up. Message received at 4:17 pm"

So now she was calling the police? Not before…not when she knew she might run into a dangerous madman while rescuing a woman he'd already threatened to kill? How had Beth survived to adulthood? Unbelievable. Mick pulled out his cell phone, hitting the auto dialer.

He listened to another message regarding the jewelry and waited for Beth to pick up the phone. And waited. Ten rings. Why wasn't she answering? The infernal man with the missing wedding ring finally stopped and the answering machine clicked to the last message.

"Mick, small problem. I'm at the station. I need you to…." Abruptly the message clicked off and went into automatic rewind as it reached the end of the tape. Mick snapped the cellphone shut and reached for his clothes.

Mick had just finished buckling his belt as the door buzzed. Who would be here now? Josef? No, not Josef, he'd sense him. No, it was someone mortal. Male. When he saw the person staring into the security screen, his heart froze. Joshua Lindsey…why would he be here? Unless something had happened to Beth. Mick didn't even think twice about opening the door.

"Josh. Come in. Beth…is she?"

"She's fine." Josh interrupted.

"Good." Thank god. A scent reached his nostrils just as he was about to smile. Testosterone, adrenaline…and blood pressure through the roof. What on earth. Anger radiated off the guy in waves. "Come in, have a seat."

Mick waited as Josh stalked over to the leather sofa and sat before he sank into his own arm chair. Eyeing the folder clutched tightly in Josh's fist, Mick raised a brow in question. "What can I help you with?"

"I want to know why she is protecting you."

"Come again?" Okay…it wasn't going to be a friendly conversation.

"She is. We both know it. What I can't figure out, is why. You both know a lot more about that drug lab on 5th and Alameda than you're admitting to. You remember…the one that blew up. All by itself. Right before I got there." Josh paused in front of Mick. "I saw your car there. I didn't say anything to Beth about it. But then, I saw her van there too. Do you know what the arson investigator found yesterday?"

There were times that Mick really really wished the other myths about vampires were true…things like telepathy and mind control. "No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"Ten decomposed bodies sealed in 55-gallon metal drums."

"I'm sorry to hear that." In more ways than one. Not good. He'd missed some. Hopefully Giullermo was taking care of the bodies at the morgue…. Josef was going to be pissed. Mick looked away to keep Josh from seeing the shock on his face. "But I don't see why you would think I'd have more information than the police. Beth investigated the story. I provided backup. That's it."

"Really? Then you won't mind explaining why I have an eyewitness who claims someone matching your exact description held him up by the throat and torched the place."

Oh no. No, he'd mind. He should have killed that guy. Look where mercy had gotten him. This needed to be diffused… fast. "Why are you here, Josh? If this was an investigation, you'd have sent the police."

"Did she kill those people?"

"Who? Beth?"

"No. Delores Whitaker…Lola."

"How would I know? Who is she?"

"Your fingerprints were all over another barrel we found at her storage facility. You know who she is. And you owe me one. All I'm asking for is information."

Right. "About a murder that you think I was involved in?" Mick hiked a brow.

"Were you?" Ever earnest, that was Josh. Mick could almost understand why Beth had fallen for him.

"No."

"Then you should have no problems answering my questions."

"On or off the record?"

"Off."

Mick inhaled, searching the air for any sign that Josh was lying…or wired. But there was nothing. He was being honest. "Fine. Yes, I knew Lola. And yes, if you found bodies in that warehouse, she killed them.

"Were you at the warehouse that night?"

"You know I was."

"Did you see who set the fire?"

Lying really didn't sit well with him, but it wasn't like he could tell Beth's boyfriend that vampires were real…so… "It was Lola. She was covering her tracks."

"I knew it."

Thank you, Beth. Mick smiled, hoping it reached his eyes. "Hm. Anything else?"

"Yeah, do you know a Josef Konstantin?"

There was no hiding the shock on Mick's face. How did Josh know about Josef? Mick shut his mouth quickly and relaxed the death grip on his chair one finger at a time.

"So you do know him."

"I might. Why?"

"He transferred a million dollars into Lola's account before she disappeared. I think that he helped her escape." Joshua dropped the manila folder on the coffee table between them, opening to a page with the bank printouts. Sure enough, right on top was Josef's name.

If Lindsey uncovered that…he could expose their existence. The blood, the money, all of it. Mick felt his eyes bleed blue in the panic and closed them to regain control. Now was not the time. But Josef… damn it. Mick ran through all the options in his head…but there really was only one that was guaranteed to work.

"You're wrong. Josef had nothing to do with it."

"How do you know that?"

"Because…." Mick stopped, looked away, "Because…" and then returned his eyes to Josh's face. "Because I killed her." Yeah. That was stupid. Mick glared at the bottom edge of the couch, taking small breaths through the mouth. Stupid…stupid…stupid. Josef was going to owe him big time for his booty call.

"Ahh… I should warn you that…"

"No. You asked. Josef hired me to get his money back from Lola. She'd stolen it. When I confronted her at the warehouse, she attacked me and I think I broke her neck. By then the fire was too dangerous. I had to get out. After…I met with Beth."

"Beth knows?"

"She knows that Lola is no longer a threat."

Josh chewed on his lip. "Look. Friend of Beth or not…I have to bring you in for questioning. About Lola…and about a body we found outside of Alicia Norton's apartment. A Mr. Frank Norton. He was shot."

"And of course, you think I did that too." Mick couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He didn't even try.

"Well, your gun was found at the scene."

"What?"

Beth gathered her belongings from the interview table, grateful that it was finally over. What a nightmare. Detective Adams had finally given up…after she was threatened with a lawyer. What was it with that woman? Ever since Beth bailed on the anniversary dinner, Adams had treated her like something she'd found stuck to the bottom of her shoe. Beth opened the door and stepped out almost colliding with none other than Mick St. John.

"Mick! What are you doing here?"

"Beth." Mick smiled and jerked his eyes to the side to indicate his police escort. "It's good to see you in one piece. You remember officer Ryder English? …And his friend?"

"Huh?" The officers escorting him were Johansen and Morales…nothing close to Ryder English…and following them was Carl. Wait…. Beth frowned…the name was familiar. His friend? Wasn't that the name of that overeager kind of creepy computer guy at his friend Josef's office? "Oh. Oh. Right. Yeah. Good to see you again, officers. Carl. Is everything okay?

Carl pushed past Mick, blocking her view. "Keep moving St. John. Beth, if you'll excuse us?"

"What?" Carl was stonewalling her. "Carl? Talk to me. I told you that he had nothing to do with the Norton scene. He wasn't even there."

"Give it up, Beth. We have your statement. Go home." He wasn't going to tell her what was going on. Beth fumed, wanting to hit something. Carl was so toast in her next article; maybe something featuring police ineptitude.

Beth met Mick's eyes over Carl's shoulder. "Mick?"

Mick opened his mouth then closed it again. "I'll talk to you later. Get going, it's…almost morning."

Great, neither one of them was going to give her anything. So be it. Mick needed the cavalry…fine. She'd get it. And then? Then, they'd be having a long talk about communication.

"Fine. I'll go. Carl…." Beth stopped, biting back the words she so wanted to say to him…but considering the situation…they probably wouldn't help. "Where's Josh?"

Carl cast a furtive glance at the door behind her. "I don't know."

For a cop, he sure didn't lie very well. "Right. He's in the observation room. Thanks."

"You can't go in there."

"Really? Huh." She tested the door handle…sure enough, it wiggled. "Door isn't locked."

"Beth…" Carl reached for his cuffs.

He wouldn't really arrest her...would he? Beth swallowed as Carl nodded to another officer. Maybe he would. Not good. Heart breaking at Mick in cuffs for having done nothing wrong…and knowing that Josh was behind it...then this... Josh spying on her? No. No way. Beth breathed past the lump in her throat. Who was she kidding, even if she walked in there right now and confronted him…she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't give her any information. Not when he'd just had her interrogated. Her. The person he slept with...claimed to love. No...Like her…he was too good at his job to let feelings get in the way.

"You know what, why should I bother? I'm done. Tell Josh to come pick up his stuff tomorrow. Mick, I'll be back soon - with a lawyer."

Beth contemplated the looming highrise in the darkness ahead of her. Last time she'd been here…gaining entrance entailed giving the security guard her name. This time? It wasn't like Mick had called ahead. And if it was true that they were vampires…crashing on them unannounced probably wasn't the best option. Ryder had been odd…but the vibe from the other guy…Jonas? Joe something? Whatever his name was -- downright cold.

And…it wasn't normal office hours. Any financial reason she might have used as an excuse wouldn't fly…not at 11:45 pm. Oh well, hopefully Ryder was up there, and hopefully he remembered her. Gathering her courage, Beth pushed through the large glass double doors into the lobby. The way too overbuilt guy at the desk just looked at her, one brow raised. Yeah…he wasn't just a receptionist.

Beth smiled, "Hi, I'm Beth Turner from Buzzwire. I was here last week with Mick St. John?"

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Mick St. John sent me. Is Ryder in?"

The guard shook his head. "Ryder left hours ago. Mr. Kostan is in. I can see if he is available?"

Who was Kostan? "Please."

Beth turned away to give him privacy and took the time to study the office directory on the wall next to the elevator. First three floors had a mix of doctors and lawyers…above that, financial advisors. And finally, the top four floors were left blank. Hmm…she wondered…who could possibly live there.

The guards words reached her in snippets. "…yes, sir, I know.. don't …disturbed…eating…. I know. Yes. I know. Sorry. Yes sir, told…before. Yes. But…St. John. Yes. Blond. Okay, I'll send her. My apologies. Yes sir."

That was revealing… Beth smiled nervously. The guard looked like he was going to be sick. "Well?"

"He…he said you can go up. Take the elevator to the 13th floor, first hallway on the right at the end of the building." The guard trailed off, mumbling under his breath.

"Okay, thanks." Beth frowned… did the guard just say good luck? Great. And...she was being sent up alone.

The elevator climbed smoothly up the building, a barely noticeable pause vibrating the floor under her feet as it passed each story without stopping. Eleven…twelve…ding... the dial stopped right between the floors on the brass and marble arc above the doors. No number marked the thirteenth floor. Must be hard to get the dials custom made. Or…maybe it was on purpose. Mick…she was doing this for Mick. Therefore Mick's friend wouldn't kill her…right? Beth took a deep breath as the doors slid open to the marbled hallway.

Three scantily dressed women waited against the wall, one leaning against it as Mick's friend …Josef…that was his name… trailed a 50 bill down the woman's ample cleavage. He smiled at Beth over the woman's shoulder, a bare lifting of his lips.

"Uh…hello." Beth tried to swallow. Could he hear her heart speeding up?

"Hi." Josef snapped the money into the woman's shirt and stepped away. "If you'll excuse me, ladies."

Beth smiled, hoping it didn't look like the grimace that it felt like. The women just glared as they pushed past her into the elevator.

"I'm sorry I interrupted. It's Mick."

"You owe me 150."

"What?" That was a little random…why would he..? "Why?"

"That was my dinner, and even though I didn't get to eat, I still had to pay them. It's a hundred and fifty. You can pay me tomorrow if you don't have it now."

"All three of them? Wait a minute…you eat hookers?"

Josef held up three fingers counting them off "Appetizer, main course…and a diabetic for desert."

"Oh. Oh. Wow." TMI. Beth backed up. Maybe he would eat her…friend of Mick's or not. This was starting to look like a very bad idea. As for the diabetic…nope, she wasn't going there. But money? She had money. But, was she really going to pay for Josef's hookers?

"Don't look so shocked, Miss Buzzwire. You know what we are…. So, what has Mick done to warrant this unexpected house call?" Josef stepped closer, looming over her.

"He's being held downtown…Josh is questioning him about a murder."

"Ah, yes. Your mortal boyfriend, District Attorney Joshua Lindsey."

Beth didn't breathe as Josef lifted a strand of hair away from her neck.

"Did Mick do it?"

Beth shook her head, eyes wide. "No. No, it was… Frank Norton. I think. He's the victim's cousin." Beth back up further, flinching as a palm frond brushed against her arm. "Look, I don't know what Mick told you…but I'm not lunch."

"Right." Josef straightened, his jaw clenching hard enough for Beth to notice. "Follow me, I have to make some calls. Is he at the Parker Center on N. Los Angeles or one of the smaller stations?

Whew… Beth released her pent up breath. "He's at Parker Center. Third Floor."

"Fine. I'll get his case file sent over." Josef started down the hallway leaving her to follow. "Who was the victim?"

"Alicia Norton."

"Look like a vampire kill?"

"No. Baseball bat."

"Fun stuff." Josef held open the door for her. "Make yourself at home. While I make the calls. I have a selection of sodas, wine, brandy, and mixed drinks, what's your poison?"

"You have any kahlua?"

He took down a black and gold bottle, pouring out a glass. He set the drink up on the counter before reaching below the bar.

"It's all yours."

A blood bag plopped next to her drink briefly before he twisted off the top and squeezed it into a second, larger glass. Eyes wide, she followed his movement as he popped it into the microwave for 35 seconds.

Before he caught her watching him, Beth took a sip of the kahlua.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. So, why would your mortal lover blame your other boyfriend for the murder?"

Beth almost choked on her drink. "Mick isn't…"

"Your boyfriend? Right. That's what he says too. At least you're both consistent. Again, why blame him for the murder?"

"I have no idea."

Josef paused to remove his drink from the microwave. "Fine. I'll find out. You had better hope it isn't just jealousy."

Beth shook her head. "Josh isn't like that."

"All men are like that, Buzzwire." Josef tipped back his drink, swallowing it in one long gulp. He kept his eyes locked with hers as he did so.

So much for her Interview with a Vampire…after finishing his drink, Josef had split into the other office to make all of his calls and whatever other arrangements vampires did to keep them from being paired up with Penthouse Bubba.

In the meantime, she was stuck in a room with three wall sized television screens displaying that both the London Stock Exchange and the New York Stock exchange had both closed slightly higher than yesterday. A third screen played a live feed from Tokyo.

Beth turned to stare at the closed door to Josef's office. Not knowing what was going on at the station was killing her. She stepped closer, trying to listen to anything coming through the thin wood.

"What do you mean he confessed?" Beth winced as Josef swore…at length. Finally he calmed enough to continue. "Do they have a body? Good…burn another warehouse…I don't care. I have one in Sacramento, torch it. And get an eyewitness that can place her at the scene."

Beth leaned in closer, putting her ear against the wood. What on earth was going on?

"Yes, she's blond. A little shorter than me. I don't know. Look…I'll send you a picture. Just make sure that someone can say she was there."

Beth frowned at the closed door. Who was he talking about…her?

"Just do it. Call me when you're done."

Beth heard the phone slam down. Just as she was about to back away the door snatched open -- leaving her nose to chest with the very man – no vampire -- she'd been spying on. Josef slammed an arm above her head, trapping her against the door frame.

His cool smell of lemon and patchouli invaded her senses as he invaded her space. Every nerve went on alert as she tried to meld into the wall. How the hell was she going to explain having her ear pressed against his door?

"I can explain…"

Josef smiled coldly. "I'm all ears."

"I…overheard you talking about Mick."

"You were spying, Buzzwire. What did you hear?"

"Something about Mick confessing, and a warehouse. That's it."

"What about the warehouse?" Each word laced with anger, Josef continued blocking her escape. Beth harbored no doubt he could smell a lie. The problem was…would he kill her if she knew he was planning a crime?

"Look, if it gets Mick out of danger, it's fine. You're planning on burning a warehouse."

Josef's nostrils flared and he inhaled deeply. "I don't let mortals know my indiscretions…ever. Mick trusted you…and now your lover knows that Mick killed Lola and likely was behind the warehouse fire. The question is…how did the esteemed attorney find out about that little detail? Did you say something to him?"

"No…" Beth thought back to that uncomfortable scene at her apartment when Josh had told her that he didn't want to know. Josef's nostrils flared as he caught her heart speeding up. He knew she was lying...ah man. "I…maybe."

"There's no maybe. It's a yes or no question, Buzzwire. Did you say something?" A lighter shade bled into the outer edges of Josef's eyes, warning her how close he was.

Jesus…oh god. Beth's heart clenched as it hammered hard enough to break through her chest.

"I didn't tell him anything about Mick. I just said Lola wasn't coming back…that's it."

"And you brought his suspicion down on Mick."

Beth swallowed. There was no use denying it…and he was probably right. If Mick ended up in jail because of her…. "I might have."

"You were careless."

"I know." She'd tried to put Josh's mind at ease and done the exact opposite instead. "Are you…are you going to kill me?"

"I haven't decided." Josef's eyes bled the rest of the way to white.

Beth froze, staring into death. "I'm not the enemy."

"Right. You just sleep with him."

What? Beth frowned, the only person she slept with was… "No. No. You're wrong. Josh isn't the enemy…he's just doing his job."

"Your pet DA has my closest friend locked up…probably because of jealousy. Don't fool yourself. He is the enemy." Josef focused on her neck. "What would you do to get Mick out of jail?"

"Anything." The answer came out firm. Beth didn't think twice about her answer. It was true, she realized, she would do anything to help Mick.

"Anything?"

"Yes. Anything." Beth met his eyes unflinching.

"Let's put that to the test, why don't we?"

Frowning Beth didn't respond immediately. "How?"

Josef smiled slightly…a bare lifting of lips, enough to show a hint of razor sharp fangs. "Give me your throat."

He was serious. The hand beside her head never moved…and with his white-blue eyes holding hers captive she knew there was only one choice that would allow her to walk out of this alive.

Beth flashed back to the hotel when Mick…when Mick had bit her. Fed from her. Yes…it had hurt, briefly…and after the pain? She didn't want to think about after. Not now, not with Josef. And he was waiting for her decision. God please don't let this kill her…Beth slowly raised her head, turning it to the side.

Josef leaned in closer. Beth's every hair stood on end as she felt his breath on her neck. This was it. Please don't let it hurt. Josef inhaled once, the short spiky hair at the top of his head brushing against her cheek, his cologne sharp in her nostrils.

Beth shivered, what was she doing? This was so wrong. Hell…a part of her was almost looking forward to it, could already feel his fangs sliding into the skin over her pulse. Eyes squeezed closed, she tried to relax the taught muscles in her neck, hoping it would save her some of the pain.

His hand tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, the fingers smooth and cold, then he turned his head to whisper in her ear.

"Congratulations, you pass."

That fast it was over, he pushed away from the wall, moving away from her faster than she could follow. Beth released the breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. A test? This had been some kind of psycho test? Oh thank god. Damn it… panting, she bent over.

Heart still in her throat, Beth did her best to recover, slowly straightening. Wow…she really needed to reevaluate her life. Almost getting eaten for dinner was not her idea of a dinner date. Mick was so going to pay for sending her to this maniac. Said maniac, having just stalked back into his office…leaving the door open.

"We have a problem, Buzzwire. I'm getting the case file faxed over now, your DA friend rang a confession out of Mick for Lola's murder…and as if that wasn't enough, they have evidence against him for the shooting of a Frank Norton." Josef met her eyes straight on. "I thought you said that Norton was the killer?"

Beth heard the words…but understanding took longer. Did he just say that Mick confessed?

"Lola? Why would Mick confess to that?" Beth shook her head in denial. "No way. What possible reason could Mick have for telling Josh about Lola?" Then the rest of Josef's word registered. Norton? Dead?

Josef cocked a single brow up, but under that cool surface, Beth could see the tension barely held in check. Thank god it was no longer directed at her.

"I don't know why he would confess to it, I'm guessing temporary insanity. All I know is that Mick missed ten bodies stuffed in metal drums at the warehouse…and one of Lola's mortal toys is saying that Mick put them there. What about Norton?"

Beth frowned. "Are you sure your source had it right? That Frank Norton is dead?"

"He was in the middle of dissecting the guy's brain when I spoke with him."

"Oh…okay…" Why would Frank be dead? Beth tried to wrap her mind around it. His wife was missing…he'd killed someone…. "Could it have been suicide?"

"Not unless Norton was flexible enough to shoot himself in the back of the head…twice."

Beth shook her head, so much for that theory. "His wife is missing, his cousin's dead…there was another woman, but I don't know her name. Mick had it."

"I need to talk to Mick."

"Yeah. Good luck with that. Only person that'll be allowed in to see him now is his lawyer."

Josef went suddenly still. Beth frowned...uh oh. Why did her mouth always run away with her? "Uhm…you could try though."

"I've learned many things about police procedure in the last fifty years. The first lesson is always the easiest, it makes the most sense. If you are on the wrong side of the interrogation table…the police are not your friend. No matter what they promise, no matter what they say…they want one thing and one thing only, to get a scumbag off the street. The consequences of them being wrong and letting the wrong guy go fill entire photo albums in a blood soaked tribute to human error and past mistakes. No, when you're on this side of the table…you are a scumbag until proven innocent."

The smells of the bullpen wafted through the narrow corridors, swirling into open doors, and permeating this, the barren interrogation room. Unlike the other rooms in the building, the walls in here stood free of wanted posters, free of the mass distributed federal labor law posters. At one point, someone had made a halfhearted attempt to decorate the room for Christmas. Cheap plastic holly hung from the corners of the mirrored window, and a string of darkened Christmas lights lined the outer edge of the empty cork bulletin board. Too bad the decorator hadn't been as dedicated about their removal, Mick noted, after all, it was already April.

"You realize, Mr. St. John, that once your lawyer gets here, we can't help you anymore."

Mick refocused his attention on detective O'Callaghan across the table from him. The man's heart rate had shot up, and a touch of perspiration dotted the man's upper lip. Small changes, but even without the physical signs, Mick knew the guy was lying. After all, Mick would be doing the same thing. Acknowledging the man's advice with a slight nod, Mick leaned back. "That's fine. I'll wait."

"You're making a mistake." O'Callaghan's voice never changed as he leaned back in his chair. Mick had no doubt the man had been through this scene countless times. The energy just wasn't there anymore, the zeal that let the testosterone get out of control, the threats, nothing. No, the detective was cool, calculating, playing through the standard phrase book. He probably thought that he wouldn't need the confession.

Through the thick glass of the observation room in front of him, Mick listened to the sound of Lindsey's blood pressure skyrocketing. Throughout the one sided interrogation, Lindsey had stood right behind the one way glass, waiting for Mick to admit to something…anything…under the Miranda warning. Mick mentally sighed. What a mess. There was no way the DA would ever give up. Even when the cleaner came in to cover all of the tracks, the DA would be following him, waiting for him to slip. And there wasn't a thing short of killing him that Mick could do about it. Unless… he left Los Angeles. Left Beth.

Maybe it was time for him to move on, Mick reflected. Every time he touched Beth….it was a step closer to him losing control and damning them both. Vampires weren't meant to have happily ever after, that was a story reserved for mortals. Josef…and his experience proved that.

"At least tell me where you were today."

The detective, no doubt bored with the silence, but unable to leave Mick alone in the room, was doodling on the yellow legal pad. Mick glanced over, brows rising as he noted a bouquet of flowers taking shape.

"I was at home. The condominium has surveillance on both the front and rear doors. The security desk downstairs can provide you with the tapes."

"Are you saying that you were home all day?"

"Most of the day, yes. I had to go to the pawn shop this morning for another case."

"Really, which pawn shop was that?" The detective remained slouched back in his chair, giving no outward sign of the spike in interest that had his adrenaline pumping.

"Ally Pawn Shop, on Crenshaw Blvd."

"And someone can verify that?"

"The pawn shop is in one of the worst neighborhoods in LA. I'm pretty sure they have video surveillance." Who didn't anymore?

Mick watched Lindsey turn to order another uniform to retrieve the tapes. After turning back to the window and noticing Mick's eyes on him, Lindsey frowned…then moved to the far left side of the window.

Mick spoke to the detective across the table from him, hyper aware of Lindsey's wooden stare. "After the pawn shop, I met with Beth Turner. We had lunch…then I returned home. It was about noon."

Sure enough, Lindsey's heart rate sped up, the hand at his side clenching into a fist. Mick kept his expression carefully blank. Although it was the truth, the last thing he needed to do was anger Lindsey further.

"And how do you account for your colt pistol being found at the crime scene."

Mick wouldn't mind knowing the answer to that, himself. "I can't. It's kept in the glove box of my mercedes. I have no idea how it got there." But he would…just as soon as he got out of here.

"Your fingerprints were all over it."

"Yeah, It's my gun." Mick's lips quirked up at the edges. "You want to check me for gun shot residue?"

"Yeah, I would." The detective scooted his chair back, the metal legs scraping against the white tile. "I'll get a lab guy in here to collect the sample."

"Knock yourself out."

Mick stood as the detective departed, leaving a single uniformed guard at the door. Nodding to him briefly, Mick returned to his seat. What a nightmare. It would take hours to process him for the Norton murder. And it sounded like they hadn't even gotten a warrant yet. Why else would they be waiting for him to volunteer to give evidence? On the bright side, when the warrant did come through, they wouldn't find anything too incriminating at his apartment. What a good time to be out of food at the house. Mick released a pent up breath.

Mick listened to the footsteps approaching the door, his senses spiking as his vamp alarm went off. "Right this way, Mr. Sinclair. He's been asking for you since we brought him in."

Officer Morales unlocked the door, pushing it open with one hand…using the other the gesture in none other than Josef. Mick stood, stunned. Of all the people who should not be here right now….

"Thank you, officer, I'll take it from here." Carrying a brown leather briefcase, the same one he used for his meetings with Forbes, Mick noted distantly, Josef turned and waited until the guard departed.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Mick ground out the words in as close to a whisper as he could.

"Good to see you too, Mr. St. John. Mrs. Sinclair told me to tell hi, by the way. When she told me about your situation I made some calls and got here as fast as I could." Josef dropped the briefcase on the table.

Ah, so that was how it was. Mick school his features into something resembling pleasant interest. "Mrs. Sinclair, ah …and how is she doing?"

"Fine, fine. Out in the car as a matter of fact."

"What?!" Mick winced, shooting a glance at the now empty observation window to make sure no one had heard his shout...then in a lower tone continued. "Please tell me that you did not tell her to stay in the car."

There was nothing like sitting in a convertible car at the police station parking lot, to top off a girl's night. That was the third officer in twenty minutes to give Beth the criminal once over. It was hard to miss, first they shot a glance at the hands to make sure you weren't armed, followed by them searching for any signs of fear, and only then did they nod and smile. It was just like a circus show.

It was too much to hope that she wouldn't be noticed. Careless Josef, very careless. The red convertible ferrari spider 360 was polished to show room standards, and the chrome trim reflected enough light to glow. It was the kind of car guys pitched tents over…and she was sitting in the front seat. At any time Joshua was going to come out that door and see her in "Mr. Sinclair's" ride and the gig would be up. A quick run of the license plates would prove that Sinclair was really Konstantin. And she'd be back in the interrogation room explaining why she was covering up for a prime suspect.

Which was why, Beth reflected, she was climbing out the passenger side door…and walking towards the entrance to the morgue. Had Josef been thinking, he would have known leaving her out there was a bad idea. Pulling her phone out of her purse, she glanced at the squat building beside the station…now that on the other hand was a much more useful place for her to be. Hitting speed dial, she waited for her favorite source to pick up.

"Hello?"

Beth spoke quietly, "Hey Guillermo", it's me." She started towards the main entrance of the building.

"Beth? What can I do for you?"

"You working tonight?"

"Yeah, but it's pretty busy. It wouldn't be a good idea for you…."

"I'll be right there."

Beth snapped the phone shut as she ducked in the metal doorway. The smells of a morgue were much like those of a hospital, disinfectant, purified air, with an underlying smell of decay and sickness. Whatever problem Guillermo might be working on could wait. Even if it cost her a laptop. The cold grey hallway, deserted at this late hour, passed by quickly, leaving her at the final glass windowed door to the autopsy room. Pushing through it, Beth waved her phone at a very resigned looking Guillermo.

"Hi!"

"Beth! This is a bad idea. You're a suspect in a murder. You can't be here."

Keeping her smile firmly in place, Beth strode the rest of the way in. "Yeah, well, I'm here."

"You have to leave."

Guillermo actually shooed her…as if that was going to work. What was up with Guillermo? Normally he fell for her charm, tonight he was acting like his boss was going to show up at any minute…when they both knew his boss was a complete day-ho. The guy hadn't seen the inside of the morgue at night for years.

"It's important, or I wouldn't be here, Gui…you know that. It's about Mick."

"You really need to go, Beth. Now is not a good time."

"No…let her stay." A husky woman's voice sounded in Beth's ear, the breath whispering across her cheek.

Beth spun around, confronting a leather-clad Dominatrix-R-Us cover model. The woman's auburn hair was pulled back in a pony tail so tight it pulled her eyebrows into arches. And the shiny black leather clung to her like a second skin. The only thing missing was a whip…the cuffs were there…dangling from a thin silver chain belt.

"Who are you?"

"You don't know, do you?" The woman smiled, revealing sharp brilliant white teeth behind ruby red lips.

Beth backed away as the woman tried to circle around her. "Nope. Sorry. Friend of Guillermo's?"

Guillermo shot her a warning look. "Beth…."

"Uh huh. Want to try again?" The Penthouse runaway pushed the door closed with a perfect manicured hand. The fingernail polish matched her lipstick shade perfectly.

"If I knew, I wouldn't have asked." Beth was beginning to feel not just overdressed, but on the low end of the desirable scale. First she gets outclassed by a sexy car…now this. Perfect. This was so turning into a Do-over Day.

"Guillermo, bring the lady a chair, would you, darling?"

Beth laid a mental bet that he was going to say, yes, Mistress, anything for you….. But instead, Guillermo slipped around the outer edge of the room, keeping an empty autopsy table and as much room between himself and the dominatrix as possible. The look on Guillermo's face when he passed her the chair was anything less than comforting. It took a lot to make a man as naturally olive skinned as Guillermo look pale, but he did.

"You're Mick's mortal friend, right?"

Beth shot Guillermo a questioning look, but he was studiously avoiding her eyes, of all the times not to help her out. "We sometimes work cases together."

"So…it's just a working relationship?"

"Pretty much." No matter what she might think about Mick… the feeling wasn't being returned. So, yeah, they had a solid working relationship. Too bad it didn't involve office furniture.

"And you have no emotional loyalties to him?" The woman leaned back against the stainless steel sink, crossing her arms.

Guillermo's eyes widened and he shot Beth a direct glance. The brief shake of his head really didn't help much. Was he trying to tell her, no, don't have emotional loyalties…or no, don't agree with Xena Warrior Princess? Men really sucked in the communications department sometimes.

"And if I do?"

"Just answer the question."

"I've already answered two of your questions. And you still haven't answered mine. So, no."

"I'll take that as a yes, Ms. Turner. As for your question…I'm the L.A. Tribe's Cleaner. My name really isn't all that important, nor is it any of your business. Josef called me in following news of Mick's arrest. News…that I understand came from you?"

Beth acknowledged the question with a nod. A cleaner? Like…a vampire maid? Or maybe the politically correct form of garbage man? As in…"Sure boss, we took out da garbage, just like ya said, tossed it in the river, carpet 'n all. Same as always."

"Good, Ms. Turner, you did the right thing. How much do you know about…Mick's condition?"

Beth blinked. "Some, not a lot. I know he can't stay in jail."

"Right…which is why I need you to go to Sacramento and cover another story about black crystal overdoses. I…have a few extra bodies, they'll be there when you arrive. Can you handle that?"

Wow. Bodies? Just random bodies…that just happened to be floating around? What the hell? She SO did not want to know where those "bodies" came from. As for the black crystal, okay…that tied right in to Josef's mention of burning another warehouse in Sacramento. Which meant…cover up. Big time cover up…and the pictures of a woman…they were planning on "resurrecting" Lola. But bodies??

"Uh…" Beth met the Cleaner's eyes. "I don't normally cover up homicides…I just…cover them."

"Their killer has already been brought to justice. This way I can kill two birds with one stone. One…I get rid of the bodies. Two…I get your boyfriend out of jail. If you can't do it, fine. But it would be a lot more convincing to your D.A. pet if you were the one to report on it."

"He'll think I'm covering for Mick."

"Not if there is another law enforcement unit involved. As long as you can lie convincingly…?"

Beth winced…lying to Josh…again. Talk about your good healthy relationships. Josh deserved so much better than this. Once this was over…she needed to make a decision. But…if it meant getting Mick out of jail, would it be worth it? Mick…Beth looked away.

"Yeah, I can do it." God help her.

"You can do what, Buzzwire?" Josef enquired from the now open doorway, an arrogant brow raised, lips tightened in annoyance.

"Lie, Josef."

"Why, yes…yes, you can." Josef's lips lifted in a brief smile that never reached his eyes. "For example… yes, Josef…sure, I can stay in the car."

Beth glared, seeing the perfect target to take out her frustrations on. If it wasn't for Josef in the first place, they wouldn't be in this mess. "What is it with you guys? I swear, the next time someone tells me to sit and stay, that's it. I'm done. You can go bail yourself out of whatever problem you're having. Do I look like a dog to you?" Beth encompassed her body with a wave of her hand.

"Oh….you two will have a great time in Sacramento together." The bright smile the Cleaner flashed at them could have been taken straight from the pages of Penthouse.

"What?!" Josef choked out, glaring from the Cleaner to Beth. "No…no way."

"Lindsey, you have completely lost your mind. Do you have any idea who just called demanding St. John's immediate release?" The cold fury in the Los Angeles County District Attorney's voice was unmistakable.

Joshua glared through the observation window to where St. John was being processed for gun shot residue. Just what he needed, a rant from his boss on top of it.

"No, Sir."

"Mayor Joel Silver. Evidently, St. John is a pillar of the community and was at a city function at the time of the shooting. Silver also stressed that St. John is his daughter's Godfather."

Joshua met Mick's eyes through the glass. How the man knew where he was…Josh tried to shake off the chills taking root at the base of his spine. No way was he going to let him walk…he'd gotten Beth into way too many dangerous situations, killed someone, hid evidence, and there he stood about to walk on all of it.

"He confessed to murder."

"A murder with no body. There's a lead out of Sacramento I'm sending someone out to now, there's detective out there…England or something, who says he's been tracking that Whitaker woman for over a month. She's not dead, Lindsey. She just moved her base of operations.At best, we've got him for assault, and the victim isn't exactly pressing charges. "

Joshue snapped his attention back to Attorney Steve Connelly. "What? Sacramento…when were you planning on telling me?"

"I wasn't. You're off the case." The man's face, ruddier than usual gave hint to the anger he was barely holding in check.

"You're pulling me off the case. I can't believe this." How could Connelly take him off the case? Joshua stared at his boss in disbelief. "Because the mayor calls you up…you pull the plug? You've got to be kidding me. Political pressure has never worked on you. What about St. John's fingerprints being all over that 55 gallon drum, the witness?"

"Lindsey…you're pushing it. This has nothing to do with political pressure, and if you could think past your caveman complex you'd realize that. I'm pulling you off the case because St. John is a friend of your girlfriend."

Joshua froze, the color leaching from his face. "He's helped out with a few of her cases, and one of mine. It has nothing to do with this case."

"Which is why you went to his home unarmed, no backup, and no warrant? Give me a break, Lindsey. You've never done something that stupid before. You're off the case, and if you argue, you'll be suspended."

Swallowing, Josh looked away. "Fine."

"I'm sorry, Lindsey, you're a damn fine attorney. But I can't afford for a case like this to get screwed up because of a conflict of interest. You know what a jury would do if they found out that your girlfriend has been seen in the defendant's company."

"Yeah. I know." And he did…the Moreno case had been thrown out just a few months back because the investigating police officer had been caught banging the guy's wife. Not that Beth and Mick were…. Josh shut that train of thought off before it went any further. They just weren't. "You still have that opening on the Tejeda taskforce?"

Connelly released a pent up breath and visibly relaxed. "Sure do, Josh, it's yours if you want it. Might even do you some good to get out of town for a few weeks."

"Yeah. Go ahead. Just one thing though…make sure whoever is investigating St. John takes a look at his background. I pulled it the other day…and he still has an open Sears card account from 1960. He's looking awfully good for someone in their late 40s."

"Yeah…sure. I'll mention it to her. Maybe it's a case of mistaken identity at the credit agency. It happens sometimes."

"Right." Josh leafed through the manila file folder on the Whitaker case a last time, seeing the barrels of human remains in his mind. "Here you go." He handed the case file over. Maybe it would be good to go out of town for a few weeks, because the things going through his mind weren't sane. Vampires did not exist…no matter that every single one of those decomposed bodies had fangs.

Josh yanked the door to the observation room open, almost walking into St. John.

"They're letting you go."

"Yeah."

Josh nodded, then strode off down the corridor. Not his problem.

The ride over had been a barrel of laughs…not. After leaving the morgue, Josef hadn't said a word beyond asking if she needed to pack a bag, or if she wanted to buy what she needed enroute. Since reporting didn't pay well…bag it was. Then, without asking for directions, he'd driven straight to her apartment. He'd known exactly where she lived, which meant he'd been watching her. Beth turned the key, swinging her apartment door open.

"You might as well come in." Not that she could stop him, and she didn't really want him hanging out in her hallway where he could snack on passing neighbors.

"Thank you." Josef met her eyes, the expression on his face unreadable.

"No problem, make yourself at home, I won't be long." Beth tossed her purse on the side chair, heading for the bedroom. Josef could hang out in the living room until she finished. It shouldn't take long to pack for a few days. And more importantly, there wasn't a lot for him to snoop into out there.

Beth pulled the large black suitcases down from the top of the closet and tossed it on the bed. A couple of days, jeans, maybe a dress…Beth mentally catalogued what she needed to take. It wasn't until the envelope dropped from her pillow and hit the ground that she noticed the differences in the room. Namely…Josh's pillow was gone, as was his extra pair of shoes, his pile of legal books…the stuffed George puppy dog…all of it.

Hands trembling, Beth stooped to pick up the plain white envelope. Numbly she realized that he hadn't even bothered to wait until they could talk it over. He'd just…packed. Sure, he had a right to be upset over everything that had happened in the last few weeks, but he was her best friend. He wouldn't just…leave, would he? Eyes closing, Beth popped the seal, ripping the envelope when it didn't open fast enough. His neat handwriting flowed across the single page.

"Hi Beth,

I guess with everything that has happened, this shouldn't come as too big a surprise. We both need a little room to think about things. I have to go out of town for a few weeks anyway. I received a request to help out with a joint FBI taskforce. If you want to talk, I'll have my cell on me most of the time, but I'll understand if you don't.

Ever since you met St. John you've changed. It's as though I don't know who you are anymore. You never struck me as a liar, but when Carl pulled the video from the police parking lot on our anniversary…who do you think I saw you walking out with? St. John, and you were almost arm in arm. Then yesterday, I found the black crystal in your desk. I'd love to hear your explanation for that one, but then again, maybe I wouldn't. How can you not see what he is doing to you?

Beth, I love you. You're an amazing person, and I've felt from the first moment I saw you that we were meant to be together. I am, and always will be your best friend.

Love,

Josh"

God…Josh. Beth hugged her knees into her chest as she stared through the tears at the letter clenched in her hands. She could almost hear his voice as he wrote it, the pain and confusion straining it to the breaking point. And no wonder…she'd fallen in love with him for his kindness and intelligence. He was too smart to not know that she was hiding something. Beth closed her eyes, torn between ripping the letter to shreds and hugging it to her chest. It was all she could have asked for two months ago.

Josh was perfect, not a thing wrong with him. He'd be an amazing husband, funny, sweet, thoughtful. How many nights had she gone to sleep curled in his arms dreaming of him playing football with a pair of dark haired boys and a girl out in the yard? Too many to count. Now? Every time she closed her eyes, she saw a pair of beautiful white blue eyes, filled with pain as they stared at her over a blood bag, a crooked smile, and sense of perpetual coolness. Beth rubbed the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

"Buzzwire?"

Beth looked up to see Josef standing in the middle of her doorway. She almost flinched at the intensity in his eyes as he held her gaze. A slight frown creased the bridge of his nose, his brows forming a straight line. Wow, her life really was going to hell, not a thing was making sense anymore. Josef, concerned?

"Your DA friend was here."

"Yeah. I know. I'll…I'll be right out." Beth slid the letter back into the ripped envelope. Pushing herself up, she blindly grabbed for her dresser. Her hand met Josef's cold smooth one, it clasped around her wrist as he pulled her up.

"Josh is leaving."

"Because of this?" He slid the fabric of her sleeve off the scars from Mick's bite, tracing the slight indentations with a caress.

"Partly." Beth pulled her hand away, sliding the sleeve back down. It was time to pack. They had things to get done that didn't involve a pity party. "Look, Josef, could you grab the black dress from the closet?"

Josef stepped around her, and for once she felt no underlying threat from him. Not that it would have mattered all that much. At this point, him draining her might be the least painful of all the events that had already gone down today.

Grabbing a couple pairs of underwear, she chucked them blindly into the suitcase. Three pairs? No…she needed more. Like seven. Seven days would be a good vacation time. Once they finished, she could just stay up there and catch the sites for a few extra days. Maybe go hiking. With that in mind, she emptied the drawer, then started in on the pants. A pair of dress slacks, matching blouse, jeans, a sweater, second dress suit. Where was Josef with her black dress? It didn't take that long to grab something off a hanger.

Beth turned to find him going through the stack of books on her nightstand... the stack of vampire books. Great. Beth felt the telltale flush of red creeping up her cheeks.

"Josef? The dress?"

He held up her newest book, a picture of a blond half naked vampire with blood trailing from the side of his mouth on the cover. Beth winced, even as Josef read off the title.

"'The Vampire Shrink'…by Lynda Hilburn? You're kidding, right?" He flipped it over to read over the back. "In the midst of it all, Kismet realizes she has feelings for both the vampire and the profiler…." Josef smiled. "So, is this research, or self help?"

"Do you mind?" Beth cringed as he lifted another book, this one she had finished reading.

"Oh, here's another good one…'Be Still my Vampire Heart.' Very nice." He looked through the remaining six stacked up…all from the same genre. "No wonder you're not chasing after your attorney. Does Mick know?"

"Does Mick know what?"

"That you go to bed each night dreaming about him?"

"Wow. Good one, Dr. Freud, did you get your degree in psychology before or after the enlightenment?" Beth threw the last pair of jeans into the suitcase and strode from the room before she did something she'd regret…like staking him… or crying into a pillow.

She grabbed her purse from the chair. Josef could get the bags. Her hand reached the door knob as someone knocked on it.

Just great. Who now? If it was Josh…it was his fault she was crying. If it was work…they could deal with it. Not much saving face with this one…her mascara had to be giving her a makeup-gone-bad induced black eye… she wasn't one of those women who cried pretty. She swung the door open.

"Mick?"

"Hey." He smiled down at her, and her heart almost melted. God he had a great smile. Then…it melted into concern. "Beth, what happened?"

"Uhm…"

"Buzzwire, this is the only black dress in your closet…." Beth turned in horror to see Josef holding up "the dress", the black lingerie one from her drug induced stupidity. When she'd tried to seduce Mick. Oh god.

Mick looked between them, a thousand emotions crossing his face in the blink of an eye. "What the hell's going on here…Josef?"

Some people think that vampires are above petty jealousy, believing that maybe time has tempered them to the point where things that normally drove a man to violence would somehow have no effect...leaving behind nothing but calm cool intellect. Those people are smoking crack.

Mick's jaw clenched. He'd known Josef long enough to pick up on the small signs of guilt, the almost undetectable tightening around the eyes, the slight reddening of his cheeks…even vampirism hadn't cured his fair skinned friend of that. The question was…what had his "good" friend done with Beth?

"Josef?"

"No, hi Josef, nice to see you again, or Josef, thanks for getting me out of jail?" The brief glimpse of guilt disappeared into biting sarcasm.

Yep, that clinched it…Josef had done something.

"If you…" Mick trailed off as Beth stepped closer, placing a cautioning hand on his chest. That one touch, such a human thing, her hand so fragile, was so warm against the thin cotton of his shirt. Even trembling, face covered in tears and smeared mascara, she was beautiful. "Beth?"

"I'm fine." Beth interrupted.

Mick lifted a brow in disbelief. "You're fine? You were crying."

"Really, I'm fine."

"See Mick, she's fine. No harm done." Josef dropped the black dress on the back of the couch, brushing his hands together afterwards, as though he'd touched something distasteful. "But now that you're here, we need to talk."

Of course they did. Mick pushed a lock of Beth's hair back behind her ear. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, It's okay. Go ahead, I'll finish packing."

"Packing?" Mick froze, was that why she'd been crying? "Packing for what? Where are you going?"

"Sacramento. Just for a few days…with Josef."

"You're what?" Mick snapped his head up to meet Josef's eyes over Beth's head. Suddenly, the scent surrounding Beth started to make sense. Inhaling slightly, Mick closed his eyes, allowing the vision to enter his mind. Josef…Josef leaning in close, almost biting her. Beth's terror, his friend's callous disregard…all of it. Mick exhaled, feeling his canines drop into place. Josef was a dead man.

"Josef…kitchen, now." Mick grated, staring out from glowing pale blue eyes. "Beth, you need to leave."

"What? Why?"

"Please Beth, just go."

"No. This is my apartment, and I'm not leaving unless you give me a reason."

Mick grimaced, wondering if she would consider needing privacy to commit murder a good enough reason. Somehow he doubted it.

"Fine. Josef?"

"After you." Josef smiled, hands clasped in front of him.

"You want to tell me why you almost bit her?"

"Mick, you're overreacting."

"No, overreacting would be ripping your fangs out one at a time. I repeat…why did you almost bite her?"

"In fifty years you haven't trusted a single mortal with your secret, but suddenly you trust her." Josef pushed away from the table. "When it comes to your reporter friend, you're not thinking straight. You think because you saved her life when she was four she is going to be loyal?"

"Hey." Mick shot a pointed look at the door.

"Oh. Right. She doesn't even remember that, does she?" Josef half smiled. "There goes that reason for loyalty. You want to know why I tested her? I did it because I knew you couldn't. Tell me, Mick, If she had failed, could you have finished her?"

Mick looked helplessly up at his friend, unable to answer.

"That's what I thought. I could have. And, if she becomes a threat to the tribe, I will."

"Is that it? Is that what this trip to Sacramento is all about? You're going to take care of her?"

"Thanks, I'm feeling the love." Josef scoffed, lips pulled back in a snarl. "We have to go to Sacramento to take care of your screw up at the warehouse, you missed ten bodies. How is that even possible? Ten, Mick, Ten! Were you so worried about the beautiful Ms. Turner, that you forgot about covering up the evidence?"

"No. The police were crawling all over the scene."

"And taking care of the police is hard…how?"

Mick clenched his jaw, focusing on Beth's fridge. What he wouldn't do for an A negative right now. "What, you're suggesting that I should have killed them? That's low Josef, even for you."

"Right, scruples, ethics and all that." Josef paced away from the plain wooden table. "I meant distracting them, genius. But, hey, if you'd rather fry up some bacon, that's your call."

Mick glared at his friend, who was busy looking through Beth's stack of mail. When had his friend become so jaded he could joke about…that? Mick couldn't even finish the thought. "I can't believe this."

"Me either. You've completely lost it over that woman. You should just take her and get it out of your system. She's more than willing."

Mick swallowed, looking away. "I can't."

"Then forget her, Mick. You're just torturing yourself and it's making you careless. She's mortal…and if her reaction to that Dear John letter means anything, she's already in love with someone, and it isn't you."

"What?" What Dear John letter?

"Evidently, her DA has broken things off. I couldn't even get her to cry like that when she thought I was going to kill her. "

"Wait a minute…Lindsey left her?" Mick sat forward, holding onto the table for support. "They've been together over a year. I thought he was going to ask her to marry him. Why would he do that?"

"Even a blind man could see the way you two look at each other, Mick. Lindsey's not blind. She doesn't even look at him that way. If she were a vampire, I'd tell you to go for it. But she's not. She's human. Let her go."

"Don't you think I know that? That I haven't been telling myself to do exactly that since the desert? To let her go? I tried." Mick inhaled. "I tried... but we keep getting thrown together."

"Then leave. Before you kill her, or worse."

"Since when did you think of vampirism as worse, Josef?"

"Since I've been forced to watch you hate yourself for over fifty years. You never forgave Coraline for turning you. Do you really think you could ever forgive yourself for turning Beth?"

"I won't turn her." The response came out automatically.

"Then maybe you should let her know that. Before she allows her only chance of mortal happiness to walk out the door forever."

"She knows."

"Ah, right. The shower. I almost forgot. She's already begged you to turn her once. Trust me, Mick, sooner or later, she is going to ask you to do it, and you're not going to be able to say no. Leave, before it's too late, for both of you.

"I can't."

Josef looked down, mouth slightly parted. "Yeah. Look…this trip to Sacramento… think about it while we're gone. If…if you decide to leave, I know someone who can relocate you. Don't answer me now…just think about it. As for Buzzwire…I'll keep her safe. We'll take care of this mess, get her footage, then come back."

"I should go with you."

"You're under investigation for arson, murder, and destruction of evidence Mick. We're going to Sacramento to blow up a building, plant some bodies, and fake evidence. Do you really think having you there is a good idea? You need to stay here. If you want to be helpful, figure out who killed that Norton guy."

Beth's eyes widened as she listened to Josef lay out what had happened in the shower. Oh my god… Mick had told him…how could he have done that? Why would he have done that? Had Mick told him about her taking the drug? Of course he had, he would have had to. How else to explain her begging him to turn her? No wonder Josef had treated her so coldly, he probably thought she was trying to seduce Mick into turning her.

Talk about an experiment gone wrong. But would Josef or Mick ever believe that she'd done it just to see what it was like? Not so that she could seduce him? Honestly…if she were to seduce Mick, she wanted to be in the driver's seat and remember every yummy detail. Not drugged out of her mind.

Josef's voice through the drywall, halted her thoughts, pleading, almost berating Mick. "Leave, before it's too late, for both of you."

Then Mick's quieter resigned voice, "I can't."

Beth sat unmoving, shocked. He sounded… tortured. He cared. And not just because she was demanding he admit that there was something between them. He wasn't just putting up with a mortal in order to solve his latest case…he really cared.

A part of her wanted to squeal like a little girl opening Christmas presents...but another part, the part that cared back…almost wanted to have never heard any of that. Because…if Mick did leave…it would hurt that much more. And if Mick and Josef were right…that it couldn't work between vampires and mortals…where did that leave them? In a year, or two, or ten…would she be begging Mick to do the unforgivable? To turn her? Maybe. Probably.

Through the thin bathroom wall, the sound of a chair scraping across the kitchen tile gave her enough warning to straighten up. The last thing she needed was for Josef to find her eavesdropping… again. Turning the sink's tap on hot, Beth pulled a dark green washcloth off the towel rack.

Why was she doing this? What was it about Mick St. John that made her want to give up everything, not just Josh…but her morals… everything, anything to hold onto a dream? What was it about him that made her want to hold him… to make him realize that he wasn't a monster?

Beth held the cloth under the hot water, forcing herself to look in the mirror, at the streaks of makeup, the swollen eyes, red nose, and the hair do that had seen better days. Wow…she looked like a mug shot model for Drunken Bimbos R Us.

Dragging the hot washcloth over her cheeks, Beth scrubbed at the trails of wet mascara. Was Josef right? Was she making Mick careless? If Mick hadn't been in such a hurry to get her away from the warehouse, would he have found the dead vampires and destroyed them before the police got their hands on them? And if she'd listened to him about LeeJay…would Mick have exposed himself to the public scrutiny?

Beth buried her face in the cloth, letting the heat seep into her skin. The slight comfort it provided made her wish that she could just stay in here for the rest of the night. Close and lock the door, turn on some music and crawl in the tub. Maybe if she pretended long enough, the two vamps in the other room would just leave without her. As the heat faded, Beth reluctantly lowered the cloth back to the sink. A slight movement in the mirror behind her made her hands clench in sudden fear.

Mick, leaning in the doorway, his eyes boring into her as though he couldn't look away if he'd tried. Mick…it was just Mick. As though there could be a "Just Mick". Beth relaxed as he stepped the rest of the way into the room, stopping right behind her.

"Feeling better?"

"You're here, how could I not feel better?"

He was smiling, not much, just the gentle, knowing smile that he was so good at. How could she not feel better with that? Eyes wide, she watched his hand outstretch…then the warm light touch of his fingers trailing over vein in her neck, right over where Josef had almost bit her.

"I'm sorry for… Josef." His words, quiet, a slight accent from decades gone by, expressed so much. Not just the apology for Josef, but the apology for having drug her into the entire mess.

"Don't be. He didn't hurt me."

Mick nodded, wrapping the arm around her the rest of the way. A simple hug, one of comfort, of friendship.

Beth leaned back into him. Too bad this wasn't a fantasy; that he wasn't just a dream. Because, at least in her imagination he never backed away, he didn't stop himself with a single, hesitant, touch. But for now, in this moment, Beth lost herself in the real perfection of his chest, the feel of his arms around her.

All too soon it was over. Mick released her, his hands slowly falling away. Beth turned to face him, breathing in his earthy, spicy scent. His eyes when they met hers held a dusky warmth, desire and regret combined into one.

Acting on impulse, trying to erase that small look of pain, Beth leaned forward, taking his lips with her own. For a second she thought that he would respond, that he would open for her, but he returned only a light brushing of lips, then kissed her forehead.

"We can't, Beth." Fire lit his gaze as he said it, but with his eyes trained on her lips like a starving man contemplating a feast, she knew he didn't mean it.

"Shhh." Beth whispered, holding a finger up against his lips before he could say more. His hand captured hers, rubbing his face against it like a cat before turning her wrist to his mouth. Placing a feather light kiss over the faded bite marks, Mick sighed.

"One kiss, Beth. No more, it's too…"

"Dangerous, I know."

He smiled. That fast, Beth suddenly found herself tasting him. His lips captured hers with barely contained urgency. Not just the chaste kiss from the parking lot, a bare brushing of lips, but a fierce onslaught, his hand tangled in her hair, lips open as he thrust his tongue thrusting between her teeth in barely constrained strokes.

Hesitantly, Beth followed his lead, exploring his mouth with tentative strokes. Before she could stop herself, she ran her tongue over the smooth enamel of his fang, caressing the sharp point with a teasing swirl.

"Enough." Mick broke it off, gasping. "No more."

Beth held onto him for support as her legs tried to remember that they weren't made of jelly. Mick rested his forehead against hers, eyes flecked with shards of pale blue holding hers in a gaze she couldn't break.

"Beth…I can't, I won't."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…" Beth tried to back up, but the sink stopped her escape.

"No! No…god, please. Don't be sorry." Mick eyes pled with hers. "You've made me feel more human than I've felt since… since my wedding night. Don't be sorry."

How did someone respond to that? Beth wanted to cry, to smile, to hug him, none of which would have been appropriate, not after what had just happened. He was laying his soul bare to her, and she was standing there like an idiot. "I…Mick."

"Just promise me something, Beth."

"Yes, what?"

"Be careful in Sacramento. Stay with Josef, he'll keep you safe, but no one else."

"Who else would be there?"

"Sacramento isn't just the mortal capital."

"Oh. Oh…" Beth's eyes widened as she turned over the implications of that. "You mean…vampires have capitals… like governments?"

"Beth."

"Wait a minute…are they elected?"

"Beth…"

"Are there…"

"Beth!" Mick glared at her in exasperation. "Yes, okay. We have governments. But now is not a good time for a lesson in vampire politics. Promise me that you're not going to bug Josef about this."

"Okay. Okay. Fine. But when I get back…you'll tell me, right?"

Mick lifted a brow, the same one he always lifted.

"Mick…"

"You're going to tell me."

"Later." Smiling, Mick turned to hold the bathroom door open. "Now, go on, Josef is waiting out in the car."

"Hanging." Josef squeezed the ferarri into the carpool lane, narrowly avoiding a dirt encrusted moving van.

Beth gasped, wide-eyed as the van's driver swerved to avoid them. The guy's pealing bumper sticker, "Now that you're kissing my bumper, Wanna get married?!, disappeared as they passed the guy going over 120.

"Or we'd torture them."

"What are you talking about?! Truck!!" Beth squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of imminent death.

"Spies." Josef swerved back into the middle lane, laying behind a trail of smoking rubber. "You learn anything interesting from spying on our conversation?"

"You…you're driving like a maniac because I overheard you talking?!"

"Don't flatter yourself." Josef turned to look at her while changing lanes. "What's wrong with my driving?"

"Besides speeding, tailgaiting, and illegal lane changes?"

Josef glanced at her before purposely turning on the blinker. "We have twenty minutes to make it to the Hawthorne airport. The pilot called while you and Mick were saying goodbye. If I don't speed, we'll be stuck in the car together until sunrise. Then you can spend a comfy day in a hotel room with me. Did I mention that I haven't eaten yet?"

Beth scrunched down into the leather seat. "There are commercial flights leaving all the time from LAX."

"Sure…I'll just walk up to the desk of American Airlines and book a ticket to Sacramento under the name Josef Kosten. Brilliant idea. That way, when I blow up my own building, I can say, why yes, detective, it is a strange coincidence that I flew into town the day before."

Beth rolled her eyes. "Fly as Sinclair, or whatever other alias you use. That worked well at the police station."

"Hold on." Josef veered across three deserted lanes to make the exit for highway 105. Beth wondered if while flooring it, he'd even noticed the exit's 45 mph yellow speed warning sign.

"Sinclair doesn't exactly have documentation to make it through TSA."

"What? Why not?"

"The District Attorney's main squeeze is criticizing me for not having a pocket full of fake documents? Isn't that a little hypocritical?"

"Unless you mean to tell me that your birth name is Josef Kosten, and you're really 23… you do have a pocket full of fake documents."

Josef's jaw tightened at the same time his foot pressed harder on the gas.

"I knew it!" Beth couldn't stop the smile that spread from ear to ear. "So, how do you get them? Do you have your own vampire relocation offices? Or someone at the government? Because, they'd have to be real, right?"

Josef sighed, taking his eyes off the road to glare at her. "Do you always ask this many questions?"

Beth just looked at him. "Reporter, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Josef returned to the carpool lane, dropping the speed to 105. Great… he was using highway signs as speed limit signs. "The first amendment doesn't exactly apply to vampires."

"Good thing I'm not a vampire."

"Look, Buzzwire, just because Mick is fool enough to trust you with our secrets, doesn't mean I am. Sure, you seem harmless enough, cute, in a girl-next-door sort of way, but you're not a vampire…you're a mortal, and you know about us. Even without meaning to, you are a threat. The less you know about us, the better. So sit back, be quiet and enjoy the ride."

"Excuse me? You need my help. Mine, not some vampire news guy, mine. Because you screwed up. Yeah, Mick told me about that. Your…what was he said, once a decade booty call? Oh, and lets not forget the stream of prostitutes coming out of your apartment. I've been bit by a vampire, Josef. I know how long the marks take to fade, and it isn't overnight. I bet that those prostitutes sometimes get a little curious about the two gaping holes…right above their jugular. Correct me if I'm wrong."

"They're escorts."

"Who get paid to sleep with you."

Josef scowled. "Fine…I'll make a deal with you. I'll answer three questions. That's it. But for every question I answer, you have to answer one of mine."

"About anything?"

"Within reason."

"Deal."

"Good. Yes. Vampires get one free relocation and all of the official documentation once every twenty years. After that, we have to pay, and it isn't cheap. And yes, we have people who makes those arrangements. My turn. Why did you take the black crystal?"

Beth looked away first, grimacing. "It was stupid, I wanted…I don't know. I guess I wanted to know what it felt like, what Mick felt. It was only supposed to be a small taste, I never thought it would be that strong. Once it hit my tongue…it was like I couldn't stop."

"That's when you went to Mick?"

"Yes." Beth stopped, phrasing the question in her mind before blurting it out. "I know that Mick, he hates what he is. But what is it really like? what is the worst thing about being what you are?"

"Powerlessness." Josef answered without hesitation, then laughed when he saw her look of disbelief, but the laugh was quiet, strained. "You don't believe me?"

Beth shook her head. "No. You can live forever, see anything you want, do anything. How can you call that powerless?"

"All immortality has given me is a lifetime pass to the tragic comedy called human civilization. It's like sitting at a horror movie for eternity. We are doomed to sit back and watch life go by us like a screaming car wreck, and there is not a thing we can do to stop it…we can't even save those closest to us."

"What do you mean?"

"A good friend of mine, we'll call him Vadik. Now Vadik, he thought he'd lived long enough, knew enough, to predict the future. He tried to bring about a revolution to a country held down in virtual slavery for centuries, he brought them education, freedom, and self-determination. Sounds great, doesn't it? Now imagine that along with that, Vadik brought Josef Stalin to power."

"Oh my god. What happened to him?"

"You've reached your quota." Josef turned off the highway, slowing down to normal speeds again as they turned into the entrance of the airport private hanger. "Good, we're here in time."

"Wait a minute…that's a Lear jet." Beth tried not to gape at the aircraft waiting outside the private hanger. Sure, she knew he was taking them charter…but not quite this high end.

"Challenger 605, their best model to date." Josef tossed the Ferrari keys in the air before pocketing them.

It even had his name on the tail. "Iosef's?"

Josef smiled, a little sheepish. "Yep. That's the nice thing about being a vampire…we get the best toys."

Josef's normal seriousness seemed to drop away, leaving an almost boyish innocence behind. Beth blinked, thinking she was seeing things…but nope, it was still there. Weird. She turned back to take in the plane. A Lear jet…holy Mary mother of god…she was going to fly on a Lear jet. Beth met Josef's smile with one of her own. It faded as another man came trotting down the plane's boarding ramp.

"Mr. Kosten! Everything is ready for you on board. Take off is in five minutes. If you're ready, sir?"

"Yes, Nathaniel, thank you. Her luggage is in the trunk. You brought what I asked for?"

"Yes sir, she's on board."

"She?" Josef tensed beside Beth.

"Yes sir…you said you needed blood."

"So, you brought a woman?"

"Well, yes sir, a prostitute. That's what you normally order." Nathaniel shifted nervously, taking in Beth's suddenly victorious look. "I…I can send her away, sir."

"No." Beth spoke up, surprising even herself. "No, don't. Let her stay and earn her keep."

"What?" Josef met her eyes incredulous.

"Your…escort. Far be it from me, a mere mortal, to keep you from your dinner."

Josef opened his mouth, then closed it again, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fine. Why not?"

Shall we?" Josef held his arm out for her, the picture of a gentleman.

Beth pasted on a smile. An hour long flight with a vampire and a prostitute in a Lear jet, this ought to be fun. "By all means."

'Til Death do you part is a long time to stay faithful to a spouse…too long for most…but especially for vampires. Look at me and Coraline for instance, a whirlwind romance, beautiful marriage…then pow, the ultimate betrayal. Our marriage lasted the whole of thirty years before I freed myself…but then, I had the time to spare. The very human Frank Norton didn't. He managed it in less than five.

Mick set the Norton's wedding picture back on the dusty mantel. The shattered glass of the frame cut a line right across the smiling bride's face. Their home, a quaint two bedroom ranch on the corner of Opal and Spence Street, was the picture perfect crime scene. Although no yellow crime scene tape stretched across the front door, Mick could tell the police had already been here. The metallic scent of their side arms and of uniforms worn several days in a row gave them away. After finding no bodies or major evidence of a struggle, they must have decided to wait until morning for a more thorough search. Mick smiled, perfect.

Flowers, sent by the many concerned friends and neighbors, sagged, long dead in their bone dry vases. Their cards contained such thoughtful phrases as, "Our thoughts are with you and your wife," "Your wife is in our prayers," and Mick's personal favorite, "I'm surprised it took her so long to ditch you, you lying S.O.B." Nothing like saying you care by sending dead flowers with hate mail. Mick's brow rose. Who sent flowers like that? Friends of the wife maybe? No signature, but the nursery embossed on the back of the card might be worth checking out.

The kitchen, unlike the den, was completely spotless. The country apple décor should have had dust sprinkled over the pinewood, and carved doll figurines, but nothing. Instead, the scent of bleach, likely too faint for the human police officers to have detected assailed his nose. Someone had taken the time to seriously clean up, but why. If it had been to cover up blood, bleach or not, he'd have smelled it. Turning his head to the side, Mick inhaled. Bleach, glue, freshly cut wood, paint…a kitchen remodel? That would cover up blood.

Opening the cupboards, Mick looked for the signs of a remodel…wood chips on the shelf, shavings still stuck into the screw beds…yep there they were. The fridge gave further evidence of the kitchen remodel. It didn't look like there was a single cooking ingredient in there, unless you counted beer. Boxes of restaurant leftovers perched haphazardly on top of each other, while the entire bottom shelf and door was devoted to Amheiser's finest.

Frank Norton had remodeled. No more than a few weeks ago from the look of the leftovers. Right around the time Mrs. Norton went missing. If she was dead…that still didn't answer who had killed Frank.

Turning, Mick froze as a familiar scent emanated from the bedroom. Lilac…massage oil…and coconut. Where had he smelled that before? One of Beth's friends maybe? Allowing the vampire to emerge slightly, Mick inhaled again forcing the image to his mind. A redhead, wearing a leather teddy sashayed from the room, the impression of a teasing smile then…nothing. Opening his eyes, Mick breathed out. He hadn't recognized her.

Swinging the door open, Mick paused. Was that a…? Yep. Adult fully interactive swing. The bolt holding it to the ceiling looked like it could hold the weight of a small car. Wow. The three piece business suit accountant that Alicia had described did not match the bedroom. Talk about split personalities. Black leather restraints hung from the ceiling, with matching ties on every corner of the bed. A braided horse whip draped over the edge of the real rabbit fur bedspread. Oddly enough…the bunny fur matched the six foot poster of a well endowed cartoon jackrabbit wearing a leather teddy.

Mick blinked. Bunnies. Right. He liked playboy bunnies as much as the next guy…but…rabbits? They must've hired a different interior decorator for the kitchen.

Violence hung over the room in an oppressive cloud that even Harvey over there couldn't dispel. A few flecks of dried blood were matted into the bunny fur. Hard to tell how old they were. Female and male mixed. Disturbed, Mick turned to the dresser. Let the forensics team have fun with that. Pulling open the first drawer, Mick looked over the contents with a rueful grin. He should have known.

It had been over twenty years since he'd last…well, since the last time, and he was looking through enough sex toys to stock the local adult Cineplex. This had to be god's idea of punishment for kissing Beth. Closing the drawer with a snap, Mick went to the next one down.

A sleek Compaq notebook, webcam, and a small vinyl cd case sat in the velvet lined drawer. Better…much better. Mick pulled it out. While Alicia had told him about the video, he'd never seen it, or the woman Frank had cheated on his wife with. The site had dropped it before either Google or the way-back-machine had added it to their caches. Plugging the computer into the wall outlet at the desk, Mick did his best to ignore the open furlough comic book lying open next to him.

Just as the laptop finished booting, the sound of a car pulling into the drive made him freeze. Who would be here? And why now? Grimacing, Mick closed the screen. The engine outside cut off and two car doors opened before slamming shut.

"I don't see why this couldn't have waited until morning." The voice of his former escort, officer Morales, was laced with tired disgust.

Mick nodded in silent agreement. No kidding. Their timing sucked. Damn. Pulling the cord from the wall, he shoved the computer under his arm. Had he left anything out of place in the front? Little late now if he had.

"We'll look for it, and if it's not here, we'll take some pictures and let the day ho's handle it. Carl didn't say we had to process everything."

Mick didn't recognize that voice. What were they looking for? Shutting the second drawer, he slipped out of the bedroom. Lights…the hallway light glared into the front entryway. He'd turned them on automatically when he'd come in. And the bobbing lights from the officers flashlights were too close to do anything about it now. No way they wouldn't notice the light turning off in the window…or the…

"Hey, the door's unlocked. Didn't we lock it up when we left?"

"Yeah. We did…." Morales' voice trailed off.

Grrreat. Mick bit his lip. Time to get a move on; before they walked in and figured out that not only had someone had been sitting in baby bear's chair but they'd also made off with his laptop.

Talk about your awkward moments. Beth glanced between Josef and the other woman. After Nathaniel had escorted them aboard the aircraft…the woman, Jolie if Beth had heard right over the pounding beat of "I don't see nothing wrong with a little bump n' grind…", had started a pole dance routine that ended abruptly when Josef cut the music.

Now the dancer was caught frozen with her leg wrapped around a leather covered chair, with just a hint of cheek peeking out from the diaphanous pink feathered lingerie. Her pencil thin red eyebrows met together in confusion above a pert upturned nose. "Mr. Kosten, you just want me in the bedroom? And what about your friend?"

"No. No…we're not together."

"Jewels," Josef broke in. "This is Beth, she's a reporter and a friend of Mick's. Beth, Jewels. She's an aspiring actress."

Of course. As far as greetings went, that had gone fairly well. Actress certainly beat…this is Jewels, she my lunch, or this is my Jewels flavored Capri sun….

"Hi. It's nice to meet you." Beth smiled and extended her hand.

"Oh. Mick's friend…he is soo sweet." The confusion fell away, leaving behind a genuine smile. "I love it when he comes over. You are so lucky. You have to tell me, is he as good as he looks?"

Josef covered a laugh with a fake cough. No way was Beth going to believe vampires coughed, they didn't even need to breathe.

"We're just…friends." Too dangerous for anything else according to the 'sweet' Mick St. John. Beth frowned. Wait a minute…if Josef, a vampire, and Jewels, who was obviously human, were doing what she thought they were doing…how did that figure into the 'Mortals and Vampires don't work' theory? And right across from her was a woman…who would know. Hmm… "So, you and Josef, you do this a lot?"

"Oh yeah, at least once a week. Isn't he the best?"

Beth smiled at the dawning look of horror on Josef's face. Oh yeah, this could be fun and informative. It wasn't like they weren't all adults, and what were the chances that another opportunity like this would crop up? "Uh hmm. The best of the best. But…how do you… you know?"

Jewels grinned and curled into a chair. "Pole dancing, or the other?"

"Ladies…" Josef's voice held a hint of warning.

"The other." Definitely the other. Beth dropped into the couch across the table from Jewels. Wincing as something jabbed into her leg. Beth pulled the offending item from between the cushions and plunked it on the table between them. "Cuffs?"

"Oh yeah. We always…" Jewels broke off as Josef grabbed them from her with a snap.

Beth flinched back as Josef glared at her, his eyes flecked with white. "Buzzwire, if you want to know how things work, ask me. She doesn't know. If you know what I mean?"

Huh? Beth frowned… "Oh. Oohh. Right. Gotcha." She didn't know what he was? But how could someone not notice the fangs? Or…the bite? When Mick had bit her in the desert…it had been kind of hard to miss.

Jewels just shrugged. "Okay, Mr. Kosten. You want me to stay here, or go to the back?"

"Stay here, buckle up. I won't be long. Follow me, Beth. You can sit in the co-pilot's seat."

"But…where will the co-pilot sit?"

"I am the co-pilot. Nathaniel will be fine on his own this time."

"You don't have to separate us." Beth smiled, her blue eyes wide with innocence.

Josef arched a single brow, looking between her and Jewels. "Oh yes. Yes I do."

Mick wrapped the blue terry clothe towel low around his hips, padding barefoot from the shower. Beth and Josef should be tucking in for the day by now. Hopefully his friend was behaving…Beth wasn't exactly one of Josef's dancing girls.

Suddenly it hit him…the scent from the Norton house. It was Josef's new freshie, what was her name…Ginger? Jenny? Joy? She'd shown up about a month ago, a cute petite redhead with legs clear to her neck. What had she been doing at the Norton house?

Dripping, Mick wiped his hands off before grabbing his cell phone from the countertop. Josef's security guy would know who she was. On the first ring, he picked up. Must be a slow night at the penthouse.

"Mr. St. John? What can I do for you tonight?"

"Hi, Tom. I'm calling about one of Josef's new girls. Redhead, she's been around for a few weeks, maybe a month. You know her?"

"A red head? Sure, he's had several in the last two weeks, but only three new ones. Is everything okay?"

Three new ones in two weeks? Mick shook his head. "Yeah, everything's fine, but I'm going to need their names."

"Sure, hold on."

While Tom went through whichever security logs he kept, Mick ambled out into the living room. Through the large bay windows, dawn stretched it's first pale fingers of pink across the purple velvet sky. Stretching an arm up, he grasped the bar hanging from the ceiling…. He'd been up…going on twenty hours now.

"Mr. St. John?"

"Yeah…I'm here."

"Okay, the names are Sarah Goodman, Natasha Stein, and Paulina Fields."

Mick released the bar, pushing a damp lock of hair off his forehead. "That's it?"

"From the last three weeks, yes."

"Go back further then, I think her name started with either a J or a G. She was really small, long legs."

"Uhm…okay, two weeks prior to that…looks like a Sara Hernandez and Jewels Martin."

"Stop, that's her. Jewels. What information do you have on her?"

"26 year old former gymnast turned actress. Dominatrix, trained in erot…"

"No." Mick cut him off. "I meant her phone number, maybe an address."

"Oh, yes sir." Disappointment clung to Tom's voice. "Okay, her phone number is 323-268-1111. According to the schedule, she's on for tonight."

"He has them on a schedule?" Amazing.

"Some are scheduled, others just show up."

Of course they did. Mick bit his lip. "You have an address for her?

"Yeah, 108 Spence Street. You want me to call her for you?"

One block from the Norton house. Go figure "No thanks, Tom. I'll go see her myself."

So much for sleep. First he'd pay an early morning visit to the woman, then, he'd head over to the nursery. Hopefully they opened early.

"But…sir, she hasn't been there for the last two weeks."

Mick unwrapped the towel, wiping his face off. "Why?"

"She's been staying here."

Mick dropped the towel through suddenly nerveless fingers. No one stayed at Josef's place. Ever. He wasn't exactly the slumber party type. "What? Why?"

"I don't know, sir. She's been in the room down the hall from Mr. Kosten's suite."

"Where is she now?"

"With Mr. Kosten…in Sacramento. At least…that's what Nathaniel entered into the system."

What were the chances? For all Josef's aloof, kill them all and let god sort them out attitude…he had a serious weakness for the fairer sex. But, would that weakness include a soft spot for a certain Mrs. Julia Norton? The names didn't match up…but if the woman was pretty enough…Josef didn't ask for I.D. Wait a minute…Josef had brought along a freshie… with Beth?

"Thanks, Tom. I have to go." Mick pushed the end button, then dialed in Beth's number.

Beth rolled yet again. Hotel mattresses…even ones at five-star hotels…had to all be made at the same Lumps R Us factory. It didn't have her mold at all, and no amount of tossing and turning seemed to be changing that. Between the mattress and the train whistling by every ten minutes…she might as well give up.

At least Josef seemed to be fine. About five minutes after he and Jewels had disappeared into the separate master suite, she hadn't heard a peep out of them. And that was two hours ago. Hopefully he hadn't…killed the women. Beth shied away from thinking too closely about that one. Mick wouldn't have let her go off alone with a murderer.

The plane ride after the initial intro had gone smoothly. About half an hour after take off, they'd landed; evidently, too quickly for Josef to get a bite in. Josef had looked more than a bit ragged when they'd gotten into the waiting limo. And the stare he'd focused on her neck had been a bit hard to miss. Unnerved didn't even begin to describe it.

Rolling over again, Beth watched the old clock roll over from 5:45 to 5:46. Ugh. Blinking at the closed door to her room, Beth pulled the thin blanket back over her shoulder. She had to get some sleep, if she didn't tomorrow was going to be miserable.

Just as she found a comfortable spot…her cell phone broke the silence. Beth groaned, reaching for it. Who would be calling this early?

"Hello?"

"Beth? Is that you?" Mick's voice cut off any further complaint she had about the time.

"Mick, what's up?"

"Julia Norton…I think I found her."

"Alive…or?"

"Alive. But first, besides you, did Josef bring anyone with him?"

"Jewels. But…I don't think that is your missing person…she's sort of in the entertainment business."

Silence met her on the other end. He wasn't that shocked…was he? "Mick?"

"Let me talk to Josef." Mick bit out each word, voice void of emotion.

"Not until you talk to me. What's going on?"

"I can't believe he let one of his freshies come along. I'm trying to keep you out of our world…and he knows that!"

Beth rolled over, pulling the blanket around her. So that was what this was about; keeping the sweet innocent mortal safe. "Because protecting me from your world has worked out so well in the past?"

"You're not dead yet."

"But you want me to go wake up Josef? Doesn't that strike you as…a little suicidal?"

"Fine. I need to know if your new entertainer friend has a bunny tattoo on her inner thigh."

"Like Julia Norton's?" Beth stopped…there was no way. "You think…?"

"Yes, exactly like Julia's."

"But…Jewels has red hair…and I think it's real. Julia had blond in the picture." Not that hair color meant anything in this world of Clairol and Loreal, Beth admitted.

"I saw another photo at the residence where it looked darker. Whoever your Jewels is, she was at the Norton house, Beth. Recently. And she had ample opportunity to take the gun from my glove box."

"She what? How?" Beth flashed back to Jewel's comments about Mick being so nice… "Wait a minute…you know her." There was no keeping the accusation out of her voice.

"She works for Josef, so of course I know her. But, obviously not well enough to know if she has a bunny tattoo. Now, can you go in to check her inner thigh, or are you going to wake up Josef?"

Beth contemplated the door. If she did wake Josef…she couldn't do it by knocking. It could just as easily wake Jewels. And once that happened, the only way they'd get a look at her thigh…well, she wasn't going there. There was no choice really. Either way…she'd probably end up waking him.

"I'll get Josef up. If you're right…what if she knows about vampires? How are we going to take her to the police?"

Beth could almost hear Mick biting his lip.

"If she knows…it should still be okay. They'll think she's trying for an insanity plea. If it does come back to us…there are ways for it to be taken care of."

"Ways like sneaking into her cell and injecting her with hallucinogens?" Beth wondered.

"Hmm. Or something. I'll wait while you get him."

"Right." Beth pushed the blanket off, smoothing her t-shirt down to cover the silk sleeping shorts. Once up close and personal with Josef's fangs should have been enough for a day's work. The connecting door turned easily in her hand, opening to the master suite. Way too easy. Beth tip toed in, checking the bed first where Jewels lay, unmoving. So far so good.

Now, where was Josef? Because he wasn't on the bed, and Jewels was covered in all the wrong areas for her to check for the tattoo. But…her neck was in plain site, as were the already fading puncture marks. Beth gulped as her wrist suddenly throbbed. Why hadn't her bite healed that fast?

"Beth?"

"He's not in the bedroom." For a second Beth didn't think Mick was going to respond.

"Try the bathroom."

"Ookay…sure. You guys hang out in bathrooms a lot?" Beth tapped softly on the bathroom door. This was one room she did not want to just barge into. When there was no response, she pushed the door slowly open to reveal…wow. She blinked.

"Mick…he's in the hot tub, covered in ice."

"And?"

"And? What do you mean and? Isn't that enough?" Beth hissed.

"Where is the woman?"

"Back in the bedroom. Mick, Josef is on ice…." Beth stopped, trying to force her heart into a normal rhythm. "What do I do? Is he…dead? I…"

"No, no. That's normal. He…he's fine, calm down before he smells your panic."

"Oh, great. That helps. Thanks. Because I sure don't want him to know I'm terrified."

"You're okay. Just breathe, he's my friend, and he isn't going to hurt you. Now, just put the phone on a shelf next to his ear somewhere."

Right, just set the phone on the shelf next to the tub and walk away. Beth stared nonplussed at the free standing hot tub. Only one problem with that plan, there were no shelves. Beth edged forward, eyes glued to Josef's still face. He was...young looking, she noted in surprise, especially in his sleep. He had the face of someone barely in his twenties. Younger when he'd been turned than she was now.

"Mick, how old is he?"

"What? Why?"

"He looks young."

"Yeah, well, he's not. He's one of the oldest vampires I know."

Just when she'd rationalized to herself that this wasn't dangerous. Great. Nervous, Beth focused on a single water droplet trickling down the side of Josef's clean shaven face. It beaded up under his shin in a clear prism before dripping into the melting ice cubes. Good thing they were there. Eep. Beth forced her eyes back up…way up. Not looking there. Nope. Beth held the phone out, a foot from Josef's ear.

"Any time, Mick…he's all ears."

"JOSEF! Wake up!!" Beth flinched as Josef frowned, then shifted in the tub.

"IOSEF ROMANOVICH KONSTANTIN!! GET UP."

Did he just say…Konstantin? As in not Kosten? How many names did he have?

Suddenly, Josef's eyes popped open…wide and white. Before she could jump back, Josef struck, capturing her wrist in an icy rock solid grip. Beth jerked, releasing the phone. In horror…she watched her 400 iphone slip between the ice under water. Oh god…Mick.

Josef met her eyes, but whatever was staring out at her…it wasn't Josef. There was no recognition on his face. Not good…so not good. Beth dug at his grip with her free hand.

"Josef…it's me! Don't kill me." She jerked back again as he turned her wrist, dragging her half over the tub.

"Damn you Josef, No. Snap out of it!! It's Beth, Buzzwire…you know me."

"Hold. Still." The words, the first sign of sanity, were growled from deep within Josef's heaving chest.

The faint red scratches still tingled. Beth rubbed the spot again, keeping her eyes locked on Josef across the room. So close. So close to death. Between them, her phone lay in three broken, dripping pieces on the wooden table, it's electronics glistening in a jumble of entrails and jagged plastic. If the iphone designers had crafted it with water resistant plastic, they hadn't taken into account Josef slamming it with vampiric strength into the middle of the table. And judging from the glare he had focus on her…he wasn't regretting the 400 dollar phone one bit. But on the bright side…considering she was still breathing…she could always get a new phone.

When he'd flung her across his room, she'd barely managed to roll before hitting the bed. Even then, she couldn't remember how she'd made it out the door into her own room…she just remembered throwing the bolt. Which had been a huge relief, right until seconds later, when he'd simply pushed through it. Thankfully he'd managed to throw on a lavender silk business shirt and a pair of beige trousers. But the look in his eyes as he slammed the phone down in front of her was anything but civilized.

"Get your stuff packed. You're going back to L.A."

"No, I'm not." Oh god, had she just said that?? Judging from the promised murder in his eyes…yep, she had.

"I've warned you, Ms. Turner. Several times. Mick may be my friend, but you, I don't…"

Guess the nickname was gone. "You need my help." Beth broke in before he could tell her how little her life meant to him.

"What?"

At least the look of pending violence had been replaced…disbelief had to be an improvement, right?

"You need me to convince Mick that you didn't just try to kill me."

"If I had tried to kill you…you'd be dead." Josef bit the words out.

"You send me back tonight, without letting me help clear Mick's name…I'll keep silent, let him draw his own conclusions."

"Let's be perfectly clear…you're willing to act like a victim to get your way?"

"What are the chances that you'll find another established reporter to cover your tracks in time for you to torch your warehouse? I'm one of the only people who can pull off the reporting on your fire. And you know it. Without me, you'll have to rely on one of the locals to screw up their reporting bad enough that they don't find the name of your shell company on the land deed. And once they find that…trust me, I know Josh, he'll dig until he finds out you own it." She didn't have to add that if Josh found out…they'd have to leave this life behind them.

"Now is not the time to remind me that you are the attorney's main squeeze." Josef looked away, a tic in his jaw giving away just how unhappy he was with this.

"What was so important that you were willing to risk your life waking me up?"

"Mick called. He said that Jewels might have framed him for that guy's murder last night."

"What?!"

At least that had gotten his attention. About time. Beth filled him in on her shortened conversation with Mick. "So…does she have it?"

"The tattoo? No. Not that I've noticed." Josef's lips flattened into a straight line as he debated the situation. Beth wasn't sure what he was going to do, but the cold flat look in his eyes didn't bode well.

"Stay here." Josef unfolded himself from the couch with the same flowing grace that cobras used to hypnotize birds. No emotion broke through the cold flat mask.

"Wait, what are you going to do?" Beth stood up instinctively. If Josef killed the woman… they'd never get Mick cleared, not completely. He might never get charged with something, but Beth knew the police would make his life hell.

"Just stay here." Josef nodded at the table.

"You're not going to kill her…are you?"

The corner of Josef's mouth tipped up slightly. "She's unconscious from blood loss in my bed. Even if I wanted to kill her… I'd do it with a little more taste."

"Oh. So…wait a second. You guys have some kind of etiquette for this?" Wow, that was an Emily Post edition she'd like to see.

"There's etiquette for everything, Buzzwire, including how to take care of nosy reporters." Josef shook his head and walked into the other room. The door between them shut with a hollow click.

Beth tried hard not to stare at Josef's mouth as he tossed Jewels' pink feathered purse on the shattered remains of the iphone. Was that blood on his lip?

"It's not her."

"What?"

"Unless the tattoo in that video was of the wet and stick variety, Julia Norton isn't in there. But she's not Jewels Martin either." Josef held out a California drivers license. "You know anyone named Jessie Disla?" .

"No, never heard of her." Beth took it from him. Yep, that was her. And unlike Beth…this woman had no problem posing for the DMV. Maybe she'd bribed someone to get a glamour shot in. "Wow, she's only 20." That wouldn't have been her first guess.

"Hm." Josef looked down, avoiding her eyes.

"Okay. I can run the name and get a background check. Mick might be able to find out why she was at the Norton place."

"She came to me with some story about an abusive boyfriend. If she was at the house…and she shot Frank, my guess is that she's the girlfriend."

Vampire hearing could be a blessing, at ten times better than the average human's, it picked things up better than a microphone at a White House press conference. But, when there was nothing to hear, such as when a phone line went dead, vampiric hearing was useless.

"Beth?" Mick pressed the cell phone tighter against his ear. "Beth." Nothing. Not even static. She was gone. Visions of what could be going on at the other end crammed through to his grey matter, things that should have been shouting for his attention before he ever sent her in there. Josef, he needed to call Josef. Dialing the number, Mick did his best not to think about what the line going dead meant.

Two rings later, it picked up. "Josef Kosten…"

Relief flooded his system. "Thank God, Josef. Is Beth there?"

"If you leave a message, my secretary will return your call."

And that fast, the relief left for parts unknown. "Josef, it's Mick. If you did anything to Beth..." Mick stopped, leaving the rest unvoiced. He'd what? Stake him? The guy was his best friend.

Having to choose between his best friend and Beth wasn't something he wanted to contemplate, not now, preferably not ever. "You know what, just call me." Grabbing his keys from the counter, Mick strode to the door.

"Where are they?" Mick leaned over Josef's security manager, growing furious that the man was refusing to cooperate.

"You know I can't tell you that Mr. St. John. Mr, Kosten was very clear that I never divulge where he stays, not to anyone. Even you. He'll fire me if I tell you."

"Come on Tom, if he wasn't in danger, I wouldn't be asking." Mick tried to remain cool, civilized, but the urge to take out his fury on this mortal was becoming harder to resist. "I just need the phone number to the hotel."

"And I can't give it to you." Tom gripped his hands together, hiding the fine trembling that had developed under Mick's intense glare.

"Last time Tom, where are they?"

"Mr. St. John, I'm sorry, I really am. But tracking him down over that blond reporter won't solve anything. It won't bring her back to you. Just let her gahh." Tom choked as Mick's fist suddenly squeezed his throat in a vice grip.

"What did he do to her?" Mick growled, his breath frigid against Tom's neck.

"Nahng nahan" Tom gurgled, the spike of fear permeating the air in adrenaline and …ugh, Mick winced, readjusting his grip so nothing dripped on him.

"What did he do to her, and where are they?"

"Saaento."

Mick fought not to roll his eyes, or squeeze the brittle bones in Tom's throat permanently closed. "I know they're in Sacramento. Which hotel?"

"Ehaheh." Sweat dripped down, sliding into the corner of Tom's eyes.

Mick loosened his grip. "What?"

"Mbay Seets."

"Embassy Suites?"

Tom nodded desperately.

Mick dropped his hand, letting Tom collapse in a fit of coughing. "Thank you. Now log me in."

Tom fumbled to do as ordered, still wheezing. Two tries later, the computer was Mick's. A quick google search and voila. "There it is. You mind if I use your phone? No? Good."

The red faced guard looked away, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "I'm not getting paid enough to do this."

Mick held the phone to his ear, waiting until the hotel receptionist picked up.

"Good afternoon, this is the Embassy Suites, Sacramento, my name is Chantelle, how may I direct your call?"

"Hi Chantelle, could you connect me to Ms. Beth Turner's room please?"

"Certainly sir, please hold." Mick raised a brow as he held Tom's gaze. Something in the man's face was off, a slight glint of…what? Not fear, not anger. Decision, or maybe resignation. Odd.

"Sir, do you know what name the room is book in?" The woman's voice refocused Mick's attention to the phone.

"Try Josef Kosten."

"Hold on. I'm sorry, sir, no one is booked under that name either."

Mick bit his lip, thinking fast. Josef could have booked it under any of a dozen aliases. What would make the receptionist help…nothing short of an emergency. Mick smiled slowly.

"They would have booked into the hotel at around five this morning. It's really important that I get in touch with Ms. Turner, My name is Dr. St. John, I work at Memorial hospital…her older sister was in a car accident this morning and is currently in critical condition. Ms. Turner is listed as next of kin. If there's any way to reach her…"

"Oh no, I'm sorry to hear that. Let me see if anyone recognizes the name. You don't happen to know what she looks like, do you?"

"The picture in her sister's wallet may be a few years old, but she's blond, mid-twenties, grey-blue eyes, thin."

"If you'll hold for a few seconds I'll ask the staff?"

"Please, and thank you for your assistance."

"Certainly." She clicked the phone to hold, leaving Mick to elevator music. It seemed like twenty minutes before she picked the phone back up. "Sir?"

"Yes, I'm still here."

"Well, I think I found her, she checked in with two other people at 4:50 this morning, under the name Jonas Stoker. As far as I know, she's the only blond to check in this morning, and the bellhop says that he's certain her name is Beth. Her room is 315, I can patch you through."

"Thank you."

As far as brilliant ideas went, this one was right up there with her attempt to "feel the night" through drug therapy. Beth frantically darted her eyes from the keyboard back to the laptop's screen. On the monitor the repeatedly flashing "Access Denied, unauthorized user…" might as well have been followed with the statement… "Good afternoon, thank you for trying to hack into a government system, although we appreciate your persistence, your IP is currently being logged and a police unit will be contacted shortly."

Maybe the system admin wouldn't notice. There must be a hundred attempts to get into the site a month that failed. People forgetting passwords, using the wrong login, maybe her use of Josh's login would fall into that category. Maybe she'd get lucky.

"Josef, you didn't happen to register your computer and internet account under an assumed name, did you?"

From his half conscious slouch in the hotel chair, Josef straightened, eyes heavy with sleep blinking open. "Why?"

"The LAPD has an internal database of booking records and case files."

"So?"

"I tried getting into it." Beth's eyes widened as a pop up window started doing a traceroute on the computer. "It's not working out so well."

"Ah. Just call Guillermo, give him the name you were trying to find, he can look it up in their records when he comes in tonight and fax it to you."

"That's not the problem."

Beth frantically hit control alt delete, but the thing was already at 76 complete. Not good. So not good. If it had been like her older model, she could have just disconnected the phone cord. But, no, Josef had to have a state-of-the-art notebook, complete with wireless modem and a battery that actually worked. Grabbing the power cord, she yanked it from the wall and hit the power button for the mandatory five seconds just to be safe.

Josef, fully awake now, looked from the power cord dangling out of Beth's hand to the wall and then back. "Problem?"

Beth glanced up, eyes wide. "I might have been caught trying to hack into it. Please tell me that you registered under a false name."

"Buzzwire… your heart is beating 130 ticks a second, calm down. You're talking about the Los Angeles Police department, not a Swiss bank. They'll never put out the resources to find you. They're too busy. Do you have any idea how many times I've had my people hack into the city's computers to get information for bidding on contracts?"

Beth placed the cord on the desk. "Bid rigging, huh? Is there anything you won't do for money?"

Josef frowned, but whatever he was going to say was halted by the hotel phone ringing. "Answer that, it's probably for you."

"How do you know it's not the police?"

"It's Mick." Calm certainty.

Beth weighed the chances. Josef seemed exhausted, less than happy about being up, and a bit pale. That might affect his judgment. But the confidence gleaming in his eyes...sending a quick prayer heavenward, Beth grabbed the phone from the desk.

"Hello?"

"Beth!" Mick released a pent up breath. "You're okay?"

"Mick?" Yes, I'm fine. Where have you been? I tried calling your apartment."

His apartment? Mick half-smiled. "I was trying to find you."

"Oh. I'm okay, a few problems waking Josef, but I'm alright."

"He didn't…"

"Bite me? No."

"Good." Mick struggled to find words to fill the sudden quiet. "Good, is he still up?"

"Yes, here, he wants the phone."

Mick listened to the background noise, the sound of Beth heartbeat suddenly speeding up, then the slower thumps, too slow to be a mortals.

"Josef."

"Hey." Quiet, short, and if Mick wasn't mistaken…angry.

"Is everything okay?"

"What were you thinking sending her in to wake me?"

"Beth?"

"Who else? I almost killed her."

Mick winced. "I know you better than that."

""Her neck is scratched. It was that close. This was a mistake. I should never have agreed to this. I might owe the Cleaner for a few things, but it certainly isn't worth this. Your girlfriend is either stupid or suicidal. And I want nothing more to do with it." Josef's frustration was clear over the phone line.

"You almost bit her?"

"Almost? I did bite her, my fangs were in her skin before I realized who she was. Do you have any idea how hard it was to pull away from her, a half a centimeter from sinking into that vein? Stupid Mick, really stupid."

Mick glanced heavenward, biting his lip. There was no defense, Josef was right. Damn. "She's okay though?"

"Yeah, she's fine. But between you and me, I think she has a vamp fetish and was hoping for a repeat of your trip to the desert."

Back to the smart ass. Mick sighed. At least with the humor, he knew that his friend wasn't irreparably pissed at him. "Yeah, well, I was good, what can I say?"

"Hey!" Beth yelled in the background… her voice outraged.

Mick frowned. "Did she just…hear that?"

"Nope, that was directed at me. But if you want, I can pass it on."

"Ha ha. Very funny. Did she tell you about Julia Norton?"

"Yeah. I checked. It isn't her. No tattoo. She's a liar, not a murderer. Her name's Jessie Disla, and she's married. Not that I'm necessarily against adultery, but I do prefer to know when I'm committing it."

"Of course." Mick rolled his eyes. Josef avoided married women like the plague. "And the husband?"

"Antonio Disla. Beth found him mentioned in the Times, arrested for domestic violence a couple years back."

"He still in jail?"

"You know how it goes Mick, man beats woman, woman begs the court to go easy on him, man walks."

"So where is he?"

"I Don't know. You're the detective, figure it out." The line went dead.

Beth carefully stepped around an oil slick oozing from a car that didn't look like it had seen a paved road since the 1970s.

The building's jagged windows, half covered in plywood and graffiti stood out like a tattoo encrusted Bandido at Sunday services. MS-13 gang signs added a fluorescent pink spice to the mix of black, red and yellow spray paint. The padlock for the warehouse and adjacent granary still clung to a thick metal chain, but the chain had long since been sheered through.

"Nice place."

Josef turned sunglass protected eyes on her. "Seventy years ago, it was one of the only warehouses on the river. It's held grain destined for Japan, China, and Okinawa. When I bought it…it was a good investment."

Staring at the rusted corrugated steal, splintered wood and chipped concrete, it was hard to imagine its better days. The neighbors added an extra bit of slum ambiance with a tire and metals recycling center and an adjacent, roofless warehouse. "Victim of the real estate bubble, eh?"

A quick, grim smile. "Yeah."

Beth considered it briefly. "It's too close. I won't be able to get the roof in the camera angle from this side. Is there anywhere across the channel?"

"There's a loading dock. The fireboat will probably be shooting water from a hose there. Might make for a good dramatic shot if everything goes right."

"Where will you be?"

"At the Los Angeles Firefighter's Relief Association Charity Ball."

"You're sick, you know that? Seriously, where will you be?"

"At a payphone booking an international flight for Delores Whitaker." Josef pushed the door open. "Ladies first."

Dubious, Beth stepped through the dust motes dancing in the dim sunbeams. Three men, dressed in black leather were busy laying out laboratory tables and beakers. As she came in, they turned pale, chiseled faces right to her. Unlike Josef, none of them wore sunglasses, but in this light, they didn't really have to.

"Mr. Kosten, everything arrived. Maurice is in the back office." The speaker came from the side, his black gloved hands folded deliberately in front of him.

"Thank you Fergus. Any problems with the oil drums?"

Beth swallowed, all too aware of what was in those drums. Fergus caught the movement, looking from her to Josef, then back again. "Ye must be the reporter Josef told us about."

"Yes, Beth Turner, from Buzzwire." Smiling, both at the man's accent, as well as his friendly greeting, Beth held out her hand.

"Fergus McClendon." Fergus smiled back, grasping her hand lightly in his own. "Buzzwire…I've heard that name before. Did you put out a vampire piece a few months back?"

Beth turned to Josef before answering, but his amused boyish grin gave absolutely no help. Beautiful. "Yes, that was me. A university Professor had visions of immortality and dragged a vulnerable student into a fantasy world. The student killed two girls before I exposed him. A follow up piece is planned on the consequences of untreated clinical delusions."

"A woman of many talents, it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Turner." Fergus released her hand.

"Fergus is the local security coordinator. He ensures that our affairs stay outside of the public eye. You two should have a lot to talk about." Josef nodded to the central support pillars. "How are the explosives coming?"

"They're in place. The roof is set to collapse first, that should keep the firemen out."

"Good. And the drugs?"

"We were able to salvage some black crystal from L.A., but the silver's proving a bit o' a problem. Oddly, no one's volunteered to pick it up."

"Don't you need the silver to mimic the crime scene?" Beth spoke up, her concern that Josh wouldn't fall for it overcoming her nervousness at meeting someone who probably had her on a vampiric watch list, if not a top ten most wanted.

"Yeah, we do." Josef snapped his fingers, motioning one of the three men over. "Go get the silver. Take one of my chauffeurs if you have to, just get it. We need it here and some crystal at the Blue Cue night club. You remember Jewels? She's willing to act as our overdose victim."

Beth gaped, wishing that she hadn't just heard what she knew she'd heard. They'd left Jewels, aka Jessie Disla, at the hotel under mortal guard. But, she'd been unconscious, not exactly in a position to volunteer for the cause. "Hey…Josef, you have a minute?"

"What's so important that you had to drag me out here?" Josef's harsh whisper cut through the hot breeze starting to whip up around them. Even in the short exposure from walking across the bridge to the park, Josef had gained an unhealthy red glow.

"You can't kill her." Beth tried to whisper, but from the looks a passing couple gave her…the whisper had carried.

Josef nodded to the young couple, waiting until they'd made it out of the park before responding. "Kill who?"

"Jewels."

"Jewels? Why would you think..?" Josef shook his head. "I walked all the way out here for this. Unbelievable. I'm going back to the warehouse."

"No! Wait, please." Beth reached out, grabbing his leather clad arm. "Josef, she's a victim, the same as Alicia. You can't do this." If he wrote off Jewels, who had apparently lived with him for weeks, donating blood, how fast would he give up a nosy reporter?

"Do what? Stick a fang in her 'til she's done?" Josef ducked into the shade under a large playground slide. "What has Mick been telling you about us?"

Obviously not enough. Somehow she had the feeling that she'd just stuck her foot in it. "You weren't planning on murdering her, were you?"

"No. She's going to lie for us about a Crystal supplier. And you'll be doing the interview." Josef kept his face expressionless.

"I owe you an apology."

"No." Josef looked up, the angle giving her a view of light green eyes behind the shades. "You don't. If you're going to be a part of our world, Buzzwire, you need to understand vampires kill. And if you can't stomach that, you need to walk away."

Beth swallowed. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah? Good. Maybe you can give Mick some balance. Lord knows, he needs it." Josef crossed his arms, nodding across the water to the warehouse. "You think this angle will be good for the camera?"

Beth frowned at the sudden change of topic. But, hey camera angles were at least a safe subject. Then again, maybe there was a problem if planning an arson was an easier topic to discuss than her love life. Beth stored that thought away for future meditation. "Yeah, it's fine."

"Quite the popular place today too. Do me a favor, not a word, let me deal with this." Josef nodded to a spot behind her.

"What?" Beth turned to take in a tall Nordic blond woman walking towards them from the bridge. Everything about her screamed supermodel, from the lilting eyebrows, to the full upturned lips.

"Josef!" The woman smiled wide, eyes bright despite being hidden behind color coordinated Gucci sunglasses. "I couldn't believe it when I heard you were in town."

"Yeah, well, news travels fast." Josef took the woman's outstretched hand, kissing it lightly before releasing it.

"And who is this?" The glamorous smile turned to Beth.

"A friend. How have you been Alexa?"

"Oh, you know, political parties, campaign fundraisers, same as always. Speaking of which, when are you going to step up for a cabinet position, you know that the L.A. area needs some representatives.

"I don't do politics."

"Soon Josef, you won't have a choice. But, come, I hear you're planning on blowing up your building and need someone with ties to the police."

"I do. And let me guess, you're it?"

"Right as always. And cheer up, I've brought you another gift besides, silver nitrate. When Delores was here last time, she left some at my place."

The elevator doors opening brought with them the welcome smells of home, the promise of a well-deserved liquid breakfast, and the not so welcome smell of gun oil and leather. The police. Again. Mick sighed. So much for getting sleep. The officer leaning against the wall across from his stainless steel door, straightened to the balls of his feet as soon as Mick stepped from the elevator.

Testosterone can be a predictor of violent behavior; several clinical studies have been done on the subject. Large volumes of data show that testosterone levels of over 800 nanograms can lead to abuse, alcoholism, aggressive behavior, and psychosis. But when your nose is more sensitive than a bloodhound's, you don't need a thesis paper to realize that the murderers and rapists of the world smell different. And this guy? He smelled very different.

"Can I help you?" Mick schooled his face to hide the feelings of apprehension that were bubbling just under the surface.

"Mr. St. John?"

"Yes."

"I'm Lieutenant Disla. I'd like to talk to you about Frank Norton's murder."

Disla? Mick glanced down to the officer's nametag. And, sure enough, there engraved into the metal nameplate was the last name Disla. Suddenly, the speeding heart rate in the other man started to make sense. If this guy was here to ask a few friendly questions, Mick was a solar energy salesman.

"I gave my statement downtown."

"I know, but if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to take a look around your apartment." Sweat popped out on the officer's forehead and he started clenching his left fist.

Worrying his lip, Mick considered. The cameras that he'd had installed after the last break in had excellent shots of anyone going near his door. Not to include the video feed going into his apartment. If Disla turned violent, sure, it would capture it…but it could also catch his own not-so-human reaction. Choices.

"Well?" The man's hand was already hedging back towards the nine-millimeter revolver sitting in the unfastened holster.

Hey, it was this guy's funeral. "Yeah, you can look around if you want. Just out of curiosity, where's your partner? Don't you guys normally stick together?"

"He had paperwork to finish."

Sure he did, Mick thought while keying in the door code. Paperwork always took priority when sending a partner off to search a suspect's residence. At night. Alone.

Mick strode into the room, letting Disla follow. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, the officer's heartbeat spiked and the scent of sweat flooding the room. Yeah, this wasn't going to go well.

"You live here by yourself?" Stress dripped from the guy's voice.

Mick's brow rose. "Yes."

The click of a hammer drawing back was all the warning Mick had. "Good. Where is she?"

Mick sighed. "You don't want to do this, Antonio."

"Oo…She told you about me. Was that before or after you slept with her?"

"Last warning, put the gun down." Mick started a mental count to ten. So help him, with the day he'd had, killing this guy would almost make up for it. One. Two.

"I know you slept with her, you bastard. She. Is. My. Wife." Anguish ripped from the man's throat.

"You should have thought about that before beating her." Three. Four.

"I never touched that bitch."

Five. Seven. Nine. If that's what he called his wife, no wonder she left him. "Come on man, just put the gun down. You don't want to do this."

"Yeah, actually, I do."

Ten. Mick flew into action. A quick turn, toss, muffled pop and it was over. Holding the revolver up, Mick tossed it onto the couch. As for Disla…the guy's handcuffs were digging into his ass, and well, there were better uses for them.

"Get off of me!! Get off, you son of a bitch, you broke my f'ing wrist."

Mick considered, grinned and slid the cuffs over said broken wrist. Ratcheting them down to the man's squeals was a nice catharsis to the evening. "Here's a question, Disla. Should I call the police with my phone…or your police radio?"

"According to our sources, the police are focusing their attention on this warehouse, rumored to belong to Delores Whitaker." Beth stood to the side to allow the camera to get the building across the water. "In the meantime, the fifth victim of the highly toxic drug, known as Black Crystal, is in serious but stable condition at the Sutter Memorial hospital. This is Beth Turner, from Buzzwire."

"Got it." The cameraman lowered the mic. "That was great, Beth."

"Good, just make sure you get some more shots of the building's entrance, we can pair it up with the explosion later."

"Sure thing."

Beth smiled, then walked around the corner of the dumpster where her 'source' was in the process of stripping down. His brief feature in one of the camera shots would be enough to put him at the scene…which was exactly what Alexa had wanted. His uniform would seal the deal, especially once they found it burned onto one of the corpses the Cleaner had sent.

"How are you guys doing?"

The officer dropped his gun on the top of the neatly folded uniform in Fergus's hands. "That's the last of it. When we get there, I'll surrender the badge."

Beth nodded, still uncertain of what to say to him. The emotions on the officer's face had ranged from nervousness, to sadness, to radiant happiness – all within the space of a handshake and brief introduction. What did you say to someone who was about to … well, to die. What would she want someone to say to her if that day ever came about with Mick? Anything? She didn't know.

"Thank you for helping us with this." The officer's gaze held steady as he extended his hand to Josef.

For once, even Josef kept the sarcasm to a minimum.

"It's nothing." Josef clasped the man's hand, his face sober. "Just come back."

The men shared a look seldom seen outside a battlefield, the look a man gives another right before jumping out of a foxhole. And the look had Josef turning away first. Beth followed, watching the normally unshakable Josef steady himself on the open trunk staring down at the uniform placed so carefully inside. When he stayed like that for several moments, she edged closer.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." Josef straightened, rubbing a hand over his face. "Don't you have other things to do?"

"Not really." He was fine?? That's why he was staring at the inside of a trunk as though it were a Picasso. Sure he was. "You don't look fine."

His upper lip lifted at the corner. "And yet the ladies keep falling at my feet."

Men. After 400 plus years, you'd think a guy could come to grips with personal issues, but no, evidently it wasn't something that came with age. Whatever had him spooked, he wasn't willing to share with her. Which meant that her questions about the entire vampire turning thing that the officer was about to go through would have to wait.

"Okay, you don't want to talk about it, I get it. There are other things to talk about besides that… like the weather, or Britney Spears. Did you hear that she's in rehab again? And according to one of my sources at the clinic, she's pregnant with an alien's baby. Although…" Beth held her finger up… "that could have been the cocaine talking."

"Ooh, you're moving up in the world, alien babies are a much better human interest story than vampire serial killers." Josef grinned, flashing her with fangs.

Hindsight being twenty-twenty, using the police radio hadn't been one of his better choices. It certainly hadn't endeared him to the arresting officer currently sitting across the table from him.

"How about you explain why the victim's laptop was in your apartment?"

"It was given to me by the victim to help find his wife. I'm a private investigator, remember?" Mick pushed back in his chair with a huff. "Come on man, I've been here for six hours."

"You broke a police officer's wrist. You're lucky you're not in jail."

Mick looked away. Honestly, the only reason he wasn't in jail right now was because they couldn't come up with an excuse for why Disla would have been working a case he wasn't assigned to…on a day off…in uniform. Oh, and that was forgetting the fact that before coming over, he'd stopped by the evidence locker to pick up Mick's gun. But explaining that to the officer across from him? Not going so well. Who knows, maybe the guy was in denial that his buddy in arms and Friday night drinking partner could be a cold blooded murderer.

Mick was about to go over it all again when Josh walked in, expression unreadable. The question was…who's side was Josh on? The other man's stride as he crossed the room was measured, purposeful, but then, that was the norm, wasn't it?

"That's enough Christiansen, we have his statement. Do me a favor, will you, go make sure the video room has Beth's tape with Disla on it ready?"

Beth's tape? She hadn't mentioned a tape.

"Whatever you say, sir."

Mick's brow rose at the hostility in the officer's tone. Interesting. He kept his surprise to himself as Josh frowned after the retreating officer. Dissent among the ranks?

"St. John, you just can't stay away, can you?"

"It's the coffee. Best in town. I heard you were off the case?"

"Beth told you that?"

"Yeah."

Josh reached between them, turning the recorder off with a click.

"How long have you known her?"

Since she was four. Yeah, that probably wouldn't go over well. "A few months."

"Do you realize how many times she's almost been killed since meeting you?"

Four. Five with Coraline, but who was counting? "What's your point?"

"I want you to stay away from her."

"Without me, your prize witness and Beth would both be dead. You do remember Amir Fayed, don't you? The charming arms dealer who went after me with a helicopter?" Mick waited until Josh nodded. "Good. Until Beth tells me to stay away, I'll be here."

"Because you're such a good Samaritan?"

"Yeah."

"Right. And you're a P.I. out of the kindness of your heart?"

"Yeah." What was with this guy?

"What you are is a bloodsucking leech."

Mick's heart stopped. He knew? How did he know? "Whoa…"

"No let me finish. I don't know what Beth sees in you. Sure, you're good at solving cases, I'll give you that, but you're in it for the money. You take advantage of people so desperate that they turn over their entire life savings so that you can do the same thing we do for free."

Mick couldn't stop the grin. "Yeah man, that's what I am, a regular vampire. And it must really burn that I can solve those cases that your office is too burdened to bother with. Now are we done here? Because I still have a wedding ring to track down for one of my victims."

"Not quite. I just wanted to let you know, that you're not being charged with Whitaker's death. She turned up alive in Sacramento. But if I find Beth anywhere near that case, I'm blaming you." Josh rose. "Now we're done."

Beth pulled the sweater up, chilled. Here, next to the river the cool air seemed more penetrating than it had at the precinct. A few more minutes of waiting then…if all went well the building and the evidence would all go up. She'd glimpsed them dressing a burned headless corpse in the officer's uniform before Josef had dragged her out here. And for once, she was almost grateful for his intervention. Knowing that vampires killed was one thing, seeing them with the bodies…. Shivering, she crossed her arms.

Josef looked up from his watch, breaking the silence. "Two minutes to show time."

"All set here." She fiddled with the microphone, fighting the urge to adjust the two cameras again. They were fine. Not having a camera man wasn't helping, but he was with Fergus clearing the warehouse and short of asking Josef to run the equipment there wasn't a lot she could do about it. The cameras would be fine by themselves on the tripods.

"Good. Then you're up." He smiled, no doubt to be encouraging, but the humor wasn't in it this time and Beth couldn't help noticing that it didn't reach his eyes. Unpleasant duty for both of them.

She pushed the record button on the remote. "This is Beth Turner of Buzzwire news, we are currently live across from the Stratford warehouse, believed to be the lab for Black Crystal. As we reported earlier, the police have been focusing their attention on this warehouse, and we are being given the opportunity to film Sacramento's finest as they serve the search warrant. As you can see, the police are staging themselves a block away, prepared to raid the warehouse with force if it should become necessary." Beth pointed to the entrance and the single policeman slipping into the building. "The first officer has just entered the…"

BOOOMMMM. A burning shock wave ripped across the water. Even from here the heat from the inferno was almost unbearable. Too close, they were way too close. Beth didn't even see the explosion take the roof down. Her eyebrows…were they singed? She clicked the audio off.

Across the water the roar from the fire drowned out the emergency responders. Images from the fire flashed in the moonlight, police officers backing away, running for radios, the side of a wall caving in.

A low whistle filled the air. "Damn, fireworks have improved."

Beth looked to Josef in disbelief. The normally reserved business man had disappeared, with ashes falling onto the shoulders of his Armani business suit like snow flakes, the grin on his reddened face looked like that of a kid at Christmas time. Great, a fire bug vampire. That had to fall under some kind of paranormal psychosis.

But looking back at the fire…he had a point. The flames soared up, melting through a power line like butter. Flashes from transistors blowing further down the line lit the night sky in an arson induced lightning storm. Above them, the street light shuddered, the light burning out in a crackling buzz.

They stood there until the fire tug started spraying the flames, and by mutual decision started packing up the gear.

"No." Josef speared a hand through his hair. "Been there, done that, and it didn't go over so well." What a nightmare. Mick was the closest thing he had to family. There was no way in hell. As the speaker on the other end of the phone droned on about the tribe's safety, and his duty, Josef studied the mural on the ceiling. Angels and demons and gods. How appropriate

"Alexandra, the situation is under control."

For a brief second, he considered hanging up the phone on her. The satisfaction would be worth it, at least for the three hours it took for her to fly in, and then he'd never get rid of her. "No, I told you, he won't."

Wincing at the sarcasm in her tone, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Vampire or not, he was getting a headache. "If Mick moves on, of course she'll be taken care of." Taken care of had so many meanings after all. He had a bet with the Cleaner that Buzzwire would be joining their little club within the year. No way was this Novaya Ruskaya going to sabotage that.

"Before you continue threatening her, Alyosha make sure you understand this -- I can just as easily withdraw my offer to partner Kosten Industries with Sinai Oil and Gas. It would be a shame to lose that field in Turkmenistan, but I'm feeling a green moment coming on."

Silence greeted him on the other end. Then the tone changed. Josef kicked back, propping his feet on the desk. Money, it even made the vampire world go round.

(The End)