“But now?”
“The victims al had their throats slashed. But there’s never any blood at the scene. None. The tox screens we’ve run always come back negative for drugs. They’re not addicts or dealers. The victims have no connection to local law enforcement, either, always a favorite target of the cartel.
We’ve traced some of the victims to places in Latin America and as far south as Ecuador. A hel of a long way to transport bodies just to dump them. They’re from poor families. If they were carrying anything of value on them, it’s gone by the time we find them. Al that’s left are the clothes on their backs.”
Max pauses, draws a breath. He hasn’t looked at me since we sat down on the bench. He does now. “I think we’re dealing with a coyote. I think he takes money from these people to get them across the border. Then he kil s and dumps them within sight of the border. The bastard probably lets them know how close they are before he kil s them.”
It doesn’t take much of a leap to know where Max is heading with this. “You think this coyote is a vampire.”
“I do. The slash marks are clumsy. Because the bodies are found in Mexico, we haven’t been able to do anything but drug sampling. But I’d be wil ing to bet if we could do the autopsies here, we’d find something under those slashes.”
He would. When I worked as a Watcher, I used the technique myself. A vampire can erase puncture wounds from a live donor, but not a dead one. Slashing the throat is a way to hide the fact that a body has been sucked dry.
Confirming that Max is right about this and how I know that he’s right is not something I want to share. I already know what he thinks of me. “What do you want from me?”
“There’s a pattern to the kil ings. We find the bodies on our patrols on Tuesday mornings. Always in roughly the same location.”
“If you know this, you don’t need me. Set a trap.”
“We did. Last week. The guy slipped past us as if he was invisible. But not before leaving us another victim. A young girl. You have to realize, Anna, our emphasis is on stopping the drug trade. Not human trafficking. We don’t have the resources to conduct another undercover op. That’s why I’m here. To ask you to come with me tomorrow night. If I’m right, the only way we’re going to stop him is by fighting fire with fire.”
I snort. “You mean vampire with vampire.”
Max’s mouth tightens. “This isn’t a joking matter.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
His expression shifts, softens. “Sorry. I know I’m asking a lot. I don’t know what else to do. If we don’t stop him, he’l go on kil ing. He likes it. He’s found an easy food source. And he takes money from victims desperate to make a new life.”
He stops, draws a breath. “Culebra told me you’re some sort of uber-vamp now. Wel, I need an uber-vamp. I can’t think of another way to stop him.”
Uber-vamp. Yeah. That’s me, al right. Head of the thirteen vampire tribes. Only thing is, except for a few extra abilities, I don’t feel any different than I did before. The only thing that’s changed is that I have another uber- vamp, Chael, gunning for me.hat dnt>
I push the thought out of my head. I can probably help Max.
I’m stronger than other vamps. The question is, do I want to?
Stupid question. I choose my words careful y.
“I’l do it. But not for you. I’l do it because a vamp who acts like this is a rogue, a threat to al vampires. Sooner or later, what he’s doing wil come to the attention of vampire hunters.
Then none of us wil be safe.”
Max lets his relief show in a tiny gesture of gratitude. He holds out a hand.
I let my feelings show by standing up and taking a step out of reach. Max is stil an asshole in my book. “Where shal I meet you?”
He stands, too, lets his hands fal to his sides. “The border crossing at San Ysidro. Tomorrow night. Ten o’clock.”
I nod. Max stares at me a minute, waiting I suppose for the ice to melt. It doesn’t, and final y, Max walks away.
For the first time, I notice.
He’s not limping anymore.
At least one wound has healed.
When I get back to the cottage, there’s no one waiting for me, no urgent voice mails announcing yet another crisis. I decide to push everything that happened this morning out of mind and do what I original y intended to do this Sunday afternoon. Curl up with a bottle of wine and watch a
Only in my original plan, Stephen was supposed to be curled up on the couch with me.
I pour myself a nice big glass of Merlot and fire up the TV.
The first time I saw this series I was human. Amazing how one’s perspective can change. Now not only does the title seem ironic, but a story about a grim reaper? Reapers have it easy. From where I sit, being a reaper is a hel of a lot easier than being a vampire.
CHAPTER 5
I PLANNED TO BEAT EVERYONE INTO THE OFFICE ON Monday morning. Check telephone messages, the calendar, pul notices from the fax and, if no jobs presented themselves, sneak away before David showed up.
Wel, I did beat David.
But not our other partner, Tracey.
She’s already at work behind the desk, pencil in hand, scanning fugitive posters hot off the fax. She’s sitting in David’s seat and looks up when I come in.
She’s pretty in a “don’t fuck with me” kind of way. Big eyes, big smile she can switch to a just-as-big scowl. She uses both to her advantage. She wears very little makeup, and I’ve never seen her long auburn hair in anything but a ponytail.
She’s wearing a Chargers sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed to her elbows. I can’t see anything else, but I’d be wil ing to bet there are jeans on those long legs under the desk. She and I could share the same work wardrobe if she wasn’t four inches tal er.
“Heard from David?” I ask, plopping into my chair.
She nods. “He’s not coming in today unless we need him.
Personal business.”
My shoulders relax. I can imagine what that “personal business” is. Not many doctor’s offices or clinics open on Sunday.
I pick up one of the flyers she’s already set aside. “Ang for us?”
Tracey puts the rest of the flyers down, lays her pencil on the desk. “Not in this stuff. But I have something if you’re wil ing to help me with it.”
I look up. “Go on.”
“It’s not a paying gig.”
I lift my shoulders in a “so what?” gesture.
She presses her lips together. Her expression says she’s not sure now how to proceed.
Unusual for Tracey. Speaking her mind has never been a problem.
I sit and wait for her to decide. I’m in no hurry. And if I end up with the day off, so much the better. I’l go see Culebra. I have a bone to pick with him. My instincts were right. He knew what Max wanted. So why didn’t he simply tel me? It would have saved al three of us—
