“I read your mind.”
Taylor immediately squirmed in her chair. Ariadne leaned forward, eyes twinkling.
“I’m kidding. I didn’t read your mind, though we can do that. It’s not mind reading the way you’re thinking of it, it’s more drowsing, a way to look into your feelings. Relying on your gut, your emotions, to help you make decisions about what a person is really thinking. You do quite a bit of that yourself, Lieutenant. So do I, and I’m actually quite good at it. I have to be careful not to look too deeply. It’s not polite. But I had no reason to look into your head-your face is like a mirror of your soul, transparent. You said it all yourself.”
Taylor was taken aback. She’d always thought her face inscrutable; it was one of her strengths. Fitz had taught her that a good cop had to be half actor to elicit trust from suspects-that’s what made her so good in interrogations. A spike of pain passed through her. She straightened, tried to make it go away.
“Intuition isn’t mind reading,” she said.
“Sure it is. You’re assimilating others’ emotions and putting them into context.” The smile fled, and Ariadne’s brow creased. “Listen, you may not believe in witches, and that’s fine. But these murders, this situation, are very, very serious. This is way more than playing light as a feather, stiff as a board. This is real, and it’s dangerous. There is a whole community of people who practice some form of paganism in Nashville, thousands of them, more than you could possibly imagine. It’s a peaceful, gentle religion, but there’s always the one who wants to pervert the Goddess’s power. That’s what we’re dealing with, and you’re going to need my help to stop him.”
“Him?” Taylor asked.
“Yes. I don’t know his name, but he’s powerful, and young. And he’s not alone.”
Taylor left Ariadne in her office. She needed a sanity break.
She found McKenzie and Marcus standing in the hallway, deep in discussion.
“What’s up?” she asked.
McKenzie grimaced. “Barent has asked for counsel. We had to stop interrogating him.”
“Well, that’s a shame. Did he give anything up before he invoked?”
Marcus rubbed his chin. “Not exactly. I think we have enough to get a warrant for his house-with him claiming to have committed the murders and his attendance at the crime scenes, that shouldn’t be a problem. I’m going to write up the warrant application now, see what I can make happen. He definitely knows more than he should about it, but I’m still not convinced that he’s really responsible. He’s a bit fragmented, personality-wise. I had him moved to a cell and booked, just in case. I didn’t want to send him home and have something go down. He seems like he has something to prove, though I’ll be damned if I think he killed those kids.”
McKenzie leaned against the wall. “He’s a true narcissist, that’s for sure. And a true believer. He honestly feels he’s a psychic, energy-feeding vampire, and that he heads a nation of vampires. He told us he’s been at war for the past two years with another vampire king, Laurent. They’ve got an online media campaign against one another, their followers are viciously attacking each other. It’s a brave new world in the vampire wars- cyberspace.”
Lincoln joined them in the hall. The confab was starting to draw the attention of several passing officers, who didn’t mask their curiosity.
“Are you sure they aren’t involved in some kind of LARP?” Lincoln asked.
“A LARP? What’s that?” Marcus asked.
McKenzie answered. “Live-action role-playing. A modern-day version of Dungeons and Dragons. LARPs are incredibly intense. It’s quite possible that if you already have an unsteady mind, extensive exposure to a LARP world could be a tipping point. It’s an excellent suggestion. It wouldn’t be the first time. We had a situation in Orlando with a rape role-playing game called RapeAid, with extensive gang-rape scenarios. A couple of the men playing decided to act it out-managed to rape four women before we caught them.”
“Is it possible that the murderer was acting out something from one of these LARPs? And that’s why they filmed it all and posted it online?” Taylor asked.
“Anything’s possible,” McKenzie said.
“I have one more component to throw into the mix. I’ve got a woman in my office, claims she’s a witch. Her name is Ariadne.”
McKenzie eyed her speculatively. “Ariadne the witch. That’s priceless.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you know the history of Ariadne?” He was met with three blank stares. He shook his head. “What am I going to do with all of you? Ariadne was the daughter of King Minos of Crete. She helped Theseus get through the labyrinth without being killed by the Minotaur, then went on to marry Dionysus.”
Taylor raised an eyebrow. “Greek mythology. Now it makes sense. She called me Athena,” she said.
“That fits.” McKenzie had something akin to amusement glinting behind his steady gaze. “Can I meet her?”
“Sure.” They started back to the Homicide offices.
“With any luck, we’ll be able to close in on this killer before the end of the day. We’re all going to have to get some rest-you guys look kind of rough. Get some sleep this evening. We’ll tackle everything fresh in the morning if it doesn’t break soon.”
“That goes for you too, LT,” Lincoln said.
“I know, and I will. But I still need to go talk to Juri Edvin. How is the Internet stuff coming?”
He stopped walking and leaned back against the wall. “It’s been a total nightmare. The video gets replaced every time the old one is removed. But they’ll get a handle on it-it’s only been a few hours. They’re doing all they can to trace everything. My contact at YouTube is supposed to call me within the day. Since it’s Saturday, they had to pull in some of the senior staff who had the weekend off to help with the situation, and that was taking some time. When we talked last, they thought they might have a lead on the original upload site.”
“Good. I’m glad they’re so willing to help. That’s a nice change. You get to it, and let me know what happens. Marcus, get that warrant in place and let’s see what Mr. Vampire has in his closet. Don’t get stuck by anything.”
Ariadne was where Taylor had left her, sitting in the chair just inside Taylor’s office. Taylor suggested they go into the conference room so they could have more space.
Lincoln, staring at Ariadne with openly frank curiosity, excused himself, but shook the girl’s hand first, lingering for a moment. Ariadne smiled back at him, and Taylor could swear he blushed.
McKenzie shook her hand with interest as well, but his was most definitely cool and appraising, pure professional detachment. Marcus was the one who held back, and Taylor found that interesting. He mumbled something about the warrant and scooted out of the room.
Taylor and McKenzie settled across the table from Ariadne, and Taylor gestured for her to begin. “Tell us what you know. But first, would you please answer something else for me? Why do you want to help us?”
“Well, that’s easy enough. All of us are threatened by the actions of this warlock. Have you ever heard of the Wiccan Rede?” Ariadne asked.
“No,” Taylor answered.
“It’s our code of ethics, what all good little witches and warlocks believe in. It’s our version of the Hippocratic oath. The Rede itself is long and involved-gives us a guide to the intricacies of spell work on the feast days, these types of things. But it’s the last two lines that are the most important. ‘These eight words the Rede fulfill-an ye harm none, do what ye will.’ We believe that any magick you cast is brought back to you threefold. The law of return, that’s what we call it. Which means if you cast a negative spell, that negativity will come back and bite you on the ass.”
“So why would a witch ever cast a negative spell?” Taylor asked.
“Some feel they can control it, some don’t care. Sometimes it’s vital and necessary, like binding. That’s what I’ve been doing, trying to bind the killer, to forbid him from killing any more innocents. But the vast majority of good witches don’t go anywhere near negative casting. It’s just too unpredictable.”
“So according to you, the killings yesterday were the work of a witch?”
“Of a warlock. A young, powerful warlock. Actually, I believe a whole coven was involved. I saw them last night, at Subversion.”
“What’s that?”
“A coven? It’s a group of like-minded witches who want to work together, to draw power from one
