I ate my packed lunch in the break room at work the next day. Mostly to get away from the piles of work that waited for me at my desk. I checked the news on my cell phone; outrage had spread over the President Alpha's daughters murder and anti-vampire protests had sprung up across college campuses nationwide. One article showed a photo of two college girl standing defiantly, their enormous banner held high in the air between them that declared: 'Domestic vampire violence feeds on silence. How many more will die before things change?' I scrolled through the article. The protests were small. Some were held by on-campus twoey clubs and student activists. Some were organized by anti-vampire groups like the Fellowship. Worrying, to say the least.
Aubrey swept into the room and sat with a flourish in front of me. "Watch out for Lucretius today. He's on a warpath." The pretty receptionist leaned forward and stage whispered: "Hannah forgot an exhibit for court this morning."
I froze mid-bite of my salad. While all the lawyers at the firm were fine to work with and work for, you definitely did not want to get on the bad side of Lucretius. Supposedly, he was half-demon like Desmond, but there was a reason he didn't appear on any of the promotional material for the firm. He was a terrifying looking man who barely passed as human—especially when he was angry.
"What did he do?"
"Smoke," she said curling her fingers in circles beside her ears. "Out of his ears, right in the middle of the courtroom."
"Sweet baby Jesus. Please tell me it was Crown Court." As in the only court in New Orleans that heard supernatural cases. She bit her lip gleefully and shook her head, dark waves bouncing. Yikes.
"What did they do?" I asked.
Hannah appeared at the doorway. The were-lynx was curvy like Jessica Rabbit with hair to match, though right now she looked a fright. Her gray power suit was mis-buttoned, her dark eyes tear-stained and mascara smudged. "So, I guess y'all are gossiping about me like the rest of the office."
"Did he tear you a new one?" Aubrey asked not bothering to deny it.
She sat down at our table and buried her face in her arms against the table. "I don't want to talk about it." She let out a soft groan. Aubrey patted her back lightly and shot me an alarmed look. Hannah was the put together one. Hannah wasn't the one to lose her cool in the break room.
"Are you fired?" I asked, concerned more than anything. Hannah was my lifeline in the office, and this job was her life.
"No. I'm stuck in the copy room on shredding duty." Her voice broke and misery exuded from her in heaving waves. Hannah was an ambitious paralegal, putting herself through law school while she worked full-time. Any issue she encountered at work she took personally and went to great lengths to rectify.
A hit to her professional reputation would practically kill her—mostly because she held herself to such high standards.
"You know what Lucretius is like," Aubrey said, pulling out a sucker from her handbag and pushing it in between Hannah's arms in an act of consolation. The girl had a sweet tooth and tried to push her addiction on to anyone she could. There was a rustling under the mass of Hannah's red hair. "He'll be calling you the second he needs any heavy lifting done. He wouldn't waste your talent shredding case files."
Hannah lifted her head and put the raspberry sucker into her mouth. "There's thirty years of documents there! He's a sadist. I bet he's been waiting three decades for just the right time to dole out this punishment. Half of them are bespelled. When you shred them, they smell like sulphur and then spark and explode!"
"What happened in court after the… incident?" I asked.
"Adjourned until next week."
"Your mix up didn't hinder the case."
She sighed. "I suppose. The fire alarms went off and the sprinklers doused everyone."
Aubrey's shocked expression was comical, and I laughed despite wanting to be supportive. Hannah scowled at us both before finally letting out a begrudging laugh.
"Oh, fuck my life. I'm so ready for this week to end. Now please someone distract me. Let's talk about something else."
"Well, have you found what you're wearing tomorrow night?" Aubrey asked. I'd planned my birthday dinner the following night. Hannah and Aubrey were the two friends I'd become closest with in the office and had made it plainly clear I couldn't escape celebrating my birthday without them.
"Uh-huh." She sat up a little straighter and took out lollipop so she could speak clearly. "This slinky navy number from that boutique I like over on St James. But be warned, Sookie. I'll be drinking myself stupid to forget the horrors of this week."
"You and me both," I said, and two sets of eyes latched onto me with burning curiosity. I rolled my own. "I don't have to be a mind reader to know what y'all are thinking. And I can't tell you anything."
Everyone was dying to know about the nature of my work for the President Alpha and dying to know how the case was progressing. But I'd already let two glasses of wine and a charming middle-eastern vampire talk info out of me. I wouldn't be making the same mistake twice.
I could hardly stand to think about the ethical boundaries I'd crossed the night before. In fact, I'd been actively not thinking about it. The joys of having a mind reader for a boss.
I buried myself in work after lunch and stopped by Jonathan's desk to check he was coming to dinner the following night. The associate lawyer was more Diantha's friend than mine, but we'd struck up an easy friendship on those weekends when Diantha dragged me out dancing with them both. When I got back to my desk, I found Agent Weiss and that younger agent partner of hers, whose name still escaped me, waiting for me.
"Why, hello there," I said, smiling my best and brightest smile. "How can I help you?"
"We were hoping to borrow you this afternoon. Mr. Cataliades said you were free to assist us, should you choose to."
"Oh, did he now?" I had no idea what memory the agents had of the night before, and a quick dive into their minds didn't offer any insight either. What I could tell was that they weren't about to arrest me for an accessory to murder charge, so I grabbed my purse from my desk, checked in with Mr. C and let them lead the way out.
In the back of long black vehicle that was similar to the human President's Lincoln, Agent Weiss and her partner Agent Roberto Ray, whose name I'd pulled from Weiss's thoughts, informed me that we were en route to Tulane University to meet with some of Lydia's friends. Ryker was waiting for us there.
We rode in silence for the first block, my tongue burning with unasked questions. How much did they know about what went down last night? Didn't they even know that Floyd was dead? When I couldn't think of a way to subtly bring it up, I opted for blunt and to-the-point:
"Have you found the vampire Lydia lived with?"
"Yes," Weiss said. She looked up from her notes and regarded me with a suspicious confusion. "You should know this already. I was under the impression Felipe didn't glamour you last night."
"He didn't." I'd just wondered how much he'd glamoured out of you, I thought.
"He's been eliminated as a suspect. He had an alibi for that night," Agent Roberto Ray said. I'd ended up having to ask his name again. The agent had boyish good looks, dark cropped hair and darker eyes, and he cut a slim figure in his black suit. Late twenties, he reminded me of a tall cow oak sapling. He was the approximate dimensions of a grown male but there something to him - maybe his long, lean limbs or the sparse facial hair - that gave you a sense that he wasn't yet done growing up or out yet.
"Had?" I queried.
"The King had him executed," Weiss informed me, still looking perplexed. "You were there."
I nodded knowingly and suppressed my internal ripple of shock. I'd really just assumed the King would keep them both in the dark. Agent Ray certainly had some signs of glamour in his mind, there was an echo of swiss-cheese emptiness as he thought over the previous days.
"The FBI's not concerned at all by that?"
"No. It's within his right as King," she stated flatly and returned to her notes. I looked to Agent Ray, whose thoughts bounced around the cab of the SUV like rubber bullets at a gun range. He was horrified by the liberties that the King and vampire monarchs in general were able to take with impunity. You and me both, buddy.
"Why does the President Alpha insist that you help out with the investigation?" Agent Ray asked me. Weiss lifted her head, her notes forgotten. She'd already determined for herself a long time ago that there was more to this world than vampires and shifters and had squarely placed me into the "more" category.
"What is your former partner up to these days?" I asked Weiss rather than answering Agent Ray.
"Enjoying an early retirement in the Florida Keyes." She said this indifferently. Interesting.
"Retirement, huh? I bet Lattesta is pleased."
Each agent then looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to divulge why exactly I was helping the werewolves, but I simply turned to take in the view, silent for the rest of the trip. The FBI's interest in me after Rhodes had scared me. I didn't say a peep then and I certain wouldn't now.
•───── ─────•
Ryker appeared extremely out of place sitting on a spotty lime green quilted bed in the small dorm room. The room itself was nicer than I expected. Exposed brick acted as a feature wall on one side and on the other, a long string of colorful paper lanterns were strung up like bunting. The two beds took up the majority of the space. Photos in collage frames hung on every wall. A petite, curly-haired girl with freckled features, April perched nervously at her desk chair, her eyes red-rimmed, a crumpled tissue clutched tightly in her hand. I inspected the photo frame closest to me as the agents questioned her. Lydia and April featured prominently in most of pictures displayed around the room. Best friends.
"Had Lydia expressed any concerns regarding her marriage in the weeks leading up to her passing?" Weiss asked.
April shook her head. "No, she was happy. Totally in love."
"Glamour," Ryker said, his voice like a low rumble.
"No," April said. "She wasn't infatuated. I've been to vampire bars. I've seen how people act when they're glamoured. This wasn't anything like it. They had their problems, but she loved him and was committed to him and to their marriage." Her voice broke and she looked down to where her hands fussed with the tissue. "She didn't have rose colored glasses, sir. She knew there'd be issues but loved him regardless."
Ryker looked to me. I nodded slightly. Everything she said lined up with what she was thinking. April was thinking now of their marriage ceremony. A courthouse one that she helped witness that occurred soon after the Supernatural Marriage Equality Act had passed. She vividly recalled the way Lydia and Floyd gazed at each other, hands clasped.
"You saw a mutual respect between both of them," I said, verbalizing the image in her mind.
"That's right," she said, nodding along. "They were total couple goals."
"Even though he strayed outside the marriage to feed his carnal needs?" Weiss asked.
"Well, I don't know anything about that," she said, nose wrinkling. She thought it was out of character for Floyd but wasn't particularly sure. "I just… I just can't believe he killed her. All those times we all hung out together, they seemed so happy and – and now she's never coming back." Her voice broke and her shoulders shook with silent tears.
"Had you seen Lydia associating with people she normally wouldn't in the days leading up to her death? A stranger, or someone you hadn't met before?" Weiss asked.
"No." She blew her nose.
"Are you sure?"
"I would've noticed. School's been broken up for over a month. There's barely anyone on campus right now."
"What about at her work? At the restaurant?" Agent Ray asked. "Had she mentioned meeting anyone?"
"No," April said. "I don't understand, why are you asking me this? Floyd killed her. Why are you looking for someone else? Mr. Ryker?" She looked to him questioningly.
"We're exploring all possibilities, April."
"Did she know many in the New Orleans' vampire community?" I asked. I ignored the pointed look that came from Weiss. Their roundabout questioning wasn't getting anywhere. I knew what questions I needed to be asked in order to pluck the answers we needed from her mind.
"Yeah, I suppose a few."
"Any you could name?" Ryker asked.
"Sure. There were a bunch that she'd hang around with on weekends when Floyd didn't have to work. I met them a couple times." She provided a list of names to Agent Ray, none of which I recognized, and I stood to examine the rest of the photos on the walls more carefully. There were a couple of Floyd and Lydia in group shots. One photo in particular stood out. It was a selfie at a party featuring April and another girl I didn't recognize. In the background of the photo, inadvertently captured on camera, were Floyd and Lydia. They were sitting on a couch, Lydia with a drink in one hand, her pretty features alight with laughter. Floyd had his arm slung across her shoulders, smiling at her.
"Something wrong?" Ryker asked, and I jumped. I'd been so absorbed I hadn't noticed his approach.
"No, just looking." I pointed to the photo. His swirling mind gradually slowed to near silence.
"I thought I was doing the right thing." He seemed unable to tear his gaze from the candid image. "I pushed her away."
When it was apparent he wouldn't offer more, I prompted him. "Why?"
"I thought if she had time, if I gave her an ultimatum, then she'd see sense and leave him. I didn't think their love was legitimate. But… now I'm not so sure."
Even as he said, it was like he didn't even think it could be possible. Good old supe inter-species racism.
"Maybe she thought the same for you? That if she gave you time, you'd come around."
"She wanted to come home for my birthday. But I said no. Not unless she returned as a single woman." Inside his mind, emotions coalesced into a deep chasm of grief. His faced closed over, his usual hard-faced mask returning. It aged him nearly a decade. "We have others to question. Let's go."
By the end of the day, I was tired, my new bra pinched enough for me to consider burning it, and a whopping headache had set in. Zero new leads had been discovered. Frustration didn't even cover half of it. We'd talked to all her friends, plus a couple of her colleagues at the nearby fast-food restaurant she worked at. No one could offer up any new information. The list of vampires would be passed over to Felipe for he and his team to investigate and, thank the Lord, I wouldn't need to be present for that.
Ryker, the agents, and I piled into the were beast car and made the trip back in relative silence. I watched Weiss from the corner of my eyes, she was singing a wonky, misremembered version of Hound Dog in her head. The last time I'd seen her before this whole ordeal, she'd been shot on my front lawn. It felt like a different lifetime ago. But right now, something didn't sit quite right. Maybe it was the way the agents didn't push the girls for details on Floyd and other vampires, but rather left it to Ryker. Or maybe it was that air of disregard they affected. Did they not care that a young woman had died? Was it because she was the daughter of a werewolf? Maybe now that Floyd was dead they were mentally checking out. Maybe they thought no suspect, so no use finding out the truth.
Ryker remained on his phone for much of the ride back, talking to his PR person from what I could gather, trying to get a hold on the rising tension gathering in the twoey community. There was a lot of talk about controlling the media narrative and staving off crisis with an upcoming press conference with both him and King de Castro. Protests were springing up everywhere. Extreme right-wing talking heads were dominating the 24-hour news cycle, spewing hate speech as fact.
As sunset bathed the streets of New Orleans in a hazy orange glow, I struggled to set aside the deep feeling of unease that was gathering within me. Ryker leaned over in his seat mid-phone call and rapped on the privacy window separating us from the chauffeur. He directed the driver to deliver the agents back to the FBI headquarters first before dropping me home.
"What do you think?" he asked after the agents left. We were headed south toward the city again. "Did you pick up on anything today?" He knew the answer already. I would've told him instantly had I come across anything that would assist with the investigation, and I told him as much. He acknowledged me with a grunt and rubbed his face with a hand.
"I don't believe Lydia's murder has anything to do with her or Floyd," he said.
"You think she was murdered as a message to you?"
"Probably."
I wanted to ask more, but it wasn't my place. I wasn't here to solve a murder. I was here to help others solve it. But I chewed my lip for about half a second before throwing caution to the wind. "Who?"
He exhaled heavily through his nostrils as he considered what to tell me. "I could write a list of those with a vendetta or an agenda against me and run out of paper before I'd finish. I'm the figurehead for a species who fight to the death to establish dominance. Enemies are part of the territory."
"A twoey sending a vampire to kill your daughter isn't akin to fighting to the death. It's underhanded. Sneaky." Not that I hadn't experienced that kind of behavior with weres before. Patrick Furnan came to mind with his sleazy tactics to become packmaster of Long Tooth back in Shreveport some years ago.
He nodded thoughtfully. "Though not unheard of. It helps narrow the list."
I went to speak then, but faltered.
"What?" he urged. "Just say it."
"The King was quick to murder Floyd, don't you think?"
Ryker snorted. "Not by supernatural standards."
"You don't think it's suspicious?"
"I've met him before," Ryker said, with a glower. "He tends to be act first, ask questions later. He's not involved. Though I admit it's caused a headache."
"He's good at causing those," I muttered.
Ryker made a noise to indicate his agreement.
"What I don't understand is how someone could kill your daughter without leaving their scent behind. I just don't… I don't get it." How could it not be Floyd? Ryker seemed to be thinking the exact same thing.
"Floyd's alibi was watertight. FBI have found him on surveillance camera footage on campus that night. There was also evidence that Lydia had engaged in sexual activity before her death. Which Floyd denied participating in." His face darkened like a storm cloud.
"She was assaulted?" He shook his head in response. I was astounded as he went on to tell me there had been no visible signs of sexual assault. How was that even possible? And supposing it was consensual and that it wasn't with Floyd, then how could a vampire—or whoever it was—not leave any trace of his or her scent behind?
Ryker had his driver drop me on St Charles Ave. I continued home on foot with a deep feeling of unease. The sum of all the parts to Lydia's murder amounted to something much bigger than I could comprehend.
I set the day's troubles aside and, after stopping home to get changed, I enjoyed a quiet evening at Amelia's house. She grilled steaks on the back patio while I threw together a salad and kept Felix occupied by chasing him through the garden and pushing him on the swing. After dinner, Amelia practically danced through the clean-up, excitement bubbling within her like a brook.
She'd changed slightly over the last year, growing her dark hair out and returning to her pre-pregnancy size once more. She was one of those lucky women who grew more beautiful with age, her features sharpening to give her a more knowing, graceful air. And she had no shortage of suitors, either. The current beau being an electrician in his late-30s who somehow charmed her during some recent repairs at her office.
"What's up with you?" I asked when she wiped the kitchen island down a third time. She turned with a wink and busied herself on the opposite counter with what looked like a cake.
"Happy birthday!" She held out a plate of lemon box pie with a burning birthday candle on top. "I made this special for you!"
I frowned and took the proffered dessert from her hand. "Amelia. We're going out for dinner tomorrow night. And my birthday isn't until next Tuesday. And I know you didn't make this pie! It's from Clancy's!"
She'd taken me to Clancy's as a treat when I'd first arrived in town, and I'd fallen in love with the entire café. I knew for a fact this pie was to die for.
"I'm giving you your present tonight," she said and sat down beside me with two dessert forks in hand. "And if you think I bought this pie purely for your enjoyment alone, then you're all wrong. Now make a wish."
I placed the plate down on the counter between us. Well, I couldn't deny edible gifts were my favorite. I closed my eyes, took a breath while readying my wish in mind and blew out the candle. When I opened my eyes again a small blue box had appeared on the table beside our dessert. Amelia clapped her hands and squealed for me to open it.
"I told you not to get me anything."
"Yeah, and I got you our favorite pie and some jewelry. Deal with it. And open it."
I did as instructed, mostly because I couldn't bear her anticipation any longer. Inside the box, nestled in white velvet, lay a delicate gold chain curled in on itself. It supported a small gold medallion pendant, no bigger than a pinkie fingernail. "Oh, Amelia…" It was gorgeous. On the medallion was a profile in relief of a tiny hummingbird in flight, its eye marked with a tiny pinprick of a ruby. "This is too much. I can't accept this."
She ate a forkful of pie right from the dish without even cutting it and let out a delighted sigh. "You're welcome," she said mouth full.
"Thank you!" I laughed and pulled her in for a brief warm hug. It was one of the prettiest pieces of jewelry I'd ever owned. I'd ever seen, even. Prettier than anything left to me by Gran or my mother. Amelia always had refined tastes.
"Now put it on, put it on!"
She still bubbled with excitement and anticipation, jittering in her seat. I cut her a suspicious glance and pushed my ponytail to the side. I removed the simple gold cross from around my neck and replaced it with her gift. I was pleased to see it sat just below the hollow juncture between my collar bones. It would sit visible above my work shirts. I froze in place as I released the clasp.
Tingles ran down my back and up again with a fast, cold trail. My brain, it felt… It felt..?
"Amelia?" My voice sounded small, far away. As if from a different person. "What did you do?" She clasped my hands tightly, her clear blue eyes round as saucers.
"Let your mental shields down, Sook." I did, shakily, after a moment. A single tear spilled and ran quickly down my cheek, it was soon followed by more.
Because, for the first time in my life, I held the hand of a fellow human being and heard absolutely nothing.