bicycle tires-a rechargeable spray can.
“Hell, Frost,” he said, “I sure wish you hadn’t been wrong about this.”
I stared at it. “Me too,” I said. “I’d never heard of magical marks this powerful before today, and if someone has learned to spray paint them…”
“… we have a big problem,” McGough finished.
Sticky and Sweet
Gibbs questioned me, and it didn’t take long-he was polite, efficient, and to the point. “That does it,” he said, putting a few finishing touches on the statement. “Anything to add?”
“No, but I do have a question,” I said, shivering, hands on my scraped knees, staring down at my jeans shorts. “Can I get my clothes back, or are they evidence now too?”
“I’m having them dry cleaned,” Gibbs said, deadpan.
“ What? ” I said, then blinked as he grinned. “Oh, very funny.”
“Sign this, and I’ll fetch your things so you can get dressed,” Gibbs said, handing me his clipboard. “Just to warn you, they’ll probably want you at the station later.”
I sighed and looked over the form. It summed up my morning in a few short lines: school shopping with daughter (with name and address of my alibi), police summons (with time of call noted), and failure to prevent magical attack (which resulted in watching friend die.)
As awkward and painful a morning as I could imagine. I signed the statement and looked up to see Officer Lee leading Cinnamon back to me. They were smiling and laughing, but then Cinnamon cussed and tossed her head angrily, as if poked with a cattle prod. Lee took it in stride, but she looked up at me, not angry, just-eyes filled with immense pity.
“Thanks, Officer,” I said, holding my arms out to Cinnamon, who leapt upon me and squeezed her arms around me in a breath-defying hug. “I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem,” Lee said. “Your daughter is very observant. And colorful.”
Cinnamon snorted and twitched her head, but smiled back at Lee.
Gibbs brought my clothes from his squad car and I gratefully grabbed my turtleneck-I was now freezing. I pulled it on, chanting, “Brr, brr, brr-”
“Get some fur,” Cinnamon sang.
“- no thank you,” I finished, as my head popped out.
Rand was just looking at us, one hand in his pocket, suit frayed but soul unperturbed, a snapshot of a black GQ Kojak right after a fight with a horde of zombies. It was so good to see him back on his game, even after all that horror. “You guys sure are sickeningly sweet.”
I forced a smile-Cinnamon could get me goofing, but Revy’s death still weighed in my mind. “Just standard procedure,” I said at last, slipping on my leather chaps. “Are we done?”
“For now,” Rand said. “But, look, we all saw what went down-but not even McGough can explain it, and he’s seen more weird shit than you and me put together. He’s already asked me to pull in the DEI’s experts, and I’ll guess Philip will want you looking into it too.”
“Fine, that’s all I need, another excuse to talk to Philip,” I said, slipping on my vestcoat. Philip Davidson was my contact at the DEI, the Department of Extraordinary Investigations. We were dating, whenever he could make it to Atlanta. It was an odd match-he was politically right of Attila the Hun and I was an uber-treehugger-but he still drove a Prius when he wasn’t riding to my rescue in a cool black helicopter. “I’ll give my favorite bod in the spook squad a ring.”
“Also, there’s another thing,” Rand said, kneading his brow. “Dakota, I know this is going to be difficult for you but… could you please inform the Consulate?”
My smile faded. “The… Vampire Consulate?” I asked, though I knew exactly which consulate he meant. “Why me? I mean, shouldn’t the police do that job?”
Rand’s face flickered a bit- ah, you caught me -but he persisted, nodding at the collar about my throat. “Normally, yes… but since you were their representative on site…”
I tugged at my stainless steel collar. It was lined with neoprene to make it comfortable, but it wasn’t coming off. “I’m not their ‘representative,’ I’m just… under their protection.”
“Whatever,” Rand said. “Dakota… could you break the news to Savannah? I know Revenance was a mutual friend, and she’d probably appreciate hearing it from you.”
I stared at him. “You suck.”
“That’s her you’re thinking of,” Rand said, “and to be honest, I find it a bit creepy to think that a girl I once bounced on my knee now drinks blood. Will you tell her?”
“Yes,” I said, scowling, dialing the next school on my cell. “ After our appointment-”
“Hello, Clairmont Academy,” a female voice over the phone answered.
“Hello, this is Dakota Frost,” I said. “We had an appointment for noon.”
“Oh, yes, well,” the woman said, spluttering a little. “Things are filling up.”
“I know you have a full schedule,” I said, watching Cinnamon’s eyes grow wide. “I’m sorry, but we were detained by the police-”
“Got caught speeding?” the woman said, suddenly conspiratorial. “You should give yourself more time to get places, you know. I heard this article in the AJC… ”
She nattered on a bit. I didn’t really know how to deal with that, and frankly I didn’t want to. “Look, I’m sorry, I wasn’t speeding,” I said quietly. “One of our friends just got attacked-”
“Oh,” she said. “I-I’m so sorry-are they OK?”
I stood there, swaying. “No, he’s-” My mouth grew dry. “He didn’t make it.”
The line was quiet. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” the woman said.
“Yes, well, yes,” I said. “I hate to inconvenience you, but… can you fit us in?”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I-I’m so sorry. We just filled our last slot an hour ago.”
I was stunned. I had known they were squeezing us in, but-”Are you sure?”
“We had three slots left and filled five before the principal called me and told me to stop,” the woman said. “I’ve been calling the rest of the appointments and canceling-”
“I see,” I said quietly. “Thank you.” I hung up the phone, staring at it. “ Damnit.”
Cinnamon stared up at me, eyes welling up. “I’m goin’ for a walk,” she said.
“Go to her,” Rand said, taking the phone from my hand and redialing. “Hello? Clairmont Academy? Yes, this is Detective Andre Rand with the APD, badge number-”
I followed Cinnamon, who kept her back to me, snuffling. “I don’t wanna talk to you,” she said. “You wants me to go to school, but can’t even find a good one-”
“We’ll find you a school,” I said, putting my hands on her shoulders. “Look, I know what you want. I’ll find a way for you to have a real life-”
“How?” she said bitterly, turning. “I’m a total freak. Look at me. Look at me!”
I stared down at her. At her orange hair, her yellow cat eyes, her tattooed stripes, her huge ears, her twitching tail. This time of the month, fine orange fur began encroaching upon her pale olive skin at the edges of her normal hair. You couldn’t not know she was a werekin.
But none of that mattered to me. “What?” I asked. “All I see is my daughter.”
Her eyes welled up even more, and then she grabbed me and squeezed me so hard the air once again left my lungs. “You big sap,” she said, still crying. “Always gets me with the sticky-sweets. Lucky for you Rand snagged us an appointment at three.”
I looked over at Rand, smiling, but there was a glint in his eye which seemed to say there was more to his favor than just soothing Cinnamon’s broken heart… and I knew precisely what he wanted for his quid pro quo.
“Wonderful,” I said. “ More than enough time to break the news to my ex-girlfriend.”
Undying Lover
We delayed the inevitable by getting breakfast-for-lunch at Ria’s Bluebird Cafe. And not just because it was right across the street from Oakland Cemetery: I love the place, and for more than the food. It’s always amusing to
