Blood Song

charged Kevlar hidden beneath the silk lining. That jacket cost more than some of my guns, and

I take very good care of it. I’d bet it was setting off al sorts of radar with her.

I stepped out of the car, standing with deliberate ease, leaving just enough room for rapid

movement in any direction.

She noticed that, and she didn’t like it. She turned to me, cold blue eyes the color of a

December sky taking in every inch of me.

Her eyes lingered on the cut of my clothes, and the fitness of the body in them. Since I work

out hard, I’m pretty damned fit. Early bal et training may have given me grace and good posture,

but running, swimming, and exercise machines give me strength and muscle definition. It

shows, even under clothing. She was no slouch, either, in the muscle department.

Her expression stayed neutral, except for the eyes. Not for the first time I wished for just a bit

of psychic talent.

“How much did you wish for it?” Detective Gibson’s voice cut into the memory and I started. My eyes

blinked several times, trying to focus on the here and now. When I did, the implication came home.

He was trying to trip me up. It probably works wel when there’s some guilt. But I didn’t have any, so it

didn’t bother me. “Please. Get real. I’m not perfect, but I like who I am. A vamp turns you, you lose your

identity, lose everything. Besides, if I’d asked for this, don’t you think I would have stuck around to see

it finished?”

He didn’t rise to that bait. He just spun his finger in a circle. “Go on.”

I tried to remember where I was. Oh yeah. Arguing with the bitchy mage about the trunk.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t al ow weapons of any kind to pass through the second gate. I need to

see them. Then you can check them with Mr. Meyers here at the guard station and pick them

up on the way back.”

There was no hesitation in her voice and no sign of deference. He might be the one with the

title, but she was definitely the person in charge. I gave Gerry an inquiring look and he flushed

but didn’t say anything.

“I’d rather not do that.” I said it calmly. I wasn’t angry. But something about her set me off. I

didn’t want her going through my things. I didn’t have any reason not to trust her, not to believe

she was just doing her job. But I wasn’t letting her get into that trunk.

She looked at me, her expression completely impassive. “Either I go through the trunk or you’l

have to leave.”

“Actual y, there is a third option.” I smiled when I said it, a bright, shiny smile that she was

sensible enough not to trust.

“What?” Gerry’s voice held equal parts suspicion and wary amusement. He knew me. And

while he might respect Ms. Magicwielder, he didn’t like her. Not one itty bit. He wouldn’t help me

sidetrack her, but he wouldn’t mind watching while I did it.

“I don’t check the weapons. I check the car.”

She stared at me in stunned silence.

Gerry laughed and belatedly tried to cover it with a cough.

It was her turn to flush, but she held her temper admirably. Her voice was deceptively pleasant

when she spoke. “Those packages appear quite heavy. Are you sure you want to carry them al

the way to the main building?”

“Not a problem.” I reached into my bag and flipped open my cel phone. I hit speed dial. The

receptionist picked up on the first ring.

“Mol y, it’s Celia. I’m leaving the car at the outer gate for security reasons, but I have birthday

presents for Vicki. Could you have the bel hop bring down one of the carts for me? I’d be very

grateful.”

“Of course, ma’am, he’l be right down.”

Gibson’s snort of laughter brought me out of the spel -induced reverie again. He was good, damned

good, to put me in and out of the memory spel like that. I hadn’t felt a thing when he’d worked his magic.

Oh, he didn’t have Bruno’s power, few do, but Gibson was smooth enough to make up for the

difference.

“Clever, very clever.” He grinned at me, and the impish expression on his face chased back the

death’s head for a moment.

“Thanks.” I grinned back at him. “I thought so.”

“Bet it pissed her off.”

“Oh yeah.” I didn’t even try to keep the satisfaction from my voice. It made him shake his head and

chuckle.

“So, you celebrated your friend’s birthday, then what?”

“Dinner at La Cocina.” The words popped out of my mouth of their own volition. I blinked in

startlement. I didn’t actual y remember it, couldn’t have told you what I’d ordered, but at the same time I

was absolutely certain it was the truth. Weird.

“Anything else?”

I tried to relax, just let the information flow, but there was nothing. I shook my head. With the spel

compel ing me, I couldn’t fake the lack of knowledge. Actual y, I’d hoped the spel might pul something

more out of my mind. No such luck.

“That’s it?” He sounded disappointed. I didn’t blame him. It was so damned frustrating.

Gibson stared at me for a long moment. I could see he was appraising me, judging me against some

inner scale. Maybe he was trying to see if I was lying, despite the magic. Most people do. Some

deliberately, because they want to misdirect the cops; some out of sheer habit, or from faulty memory.

But the way he’d primed me, the memory should be there. If the freaking bat hadn’t screwed with my

head.

“How badly do you want to remember?”

I met the intensity of his gaze without flinching. “I don’t want to remember,” I snarled. “I need to.”

He reached down to the tape recorder and abruptly hit the stop button. I watched the little wheels that

moved the tape come to a halt, wondering what in the hel was going on. “How much money have you

got on you?”

I blinked a little in shock. Alex is incredibly straightforward, honest, and honorable. I couldn’t believe

that a man she trusted as much as Gibson could be crooked, but he was certainly acting suspiciously. I

picked my words careful y, trying to keep my voice utterly neutral. “Not much, but my office is only a

couple blocks from here. I can get some. Why?”

He smiled a slow, wicked smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “As a cop, I am not al owed to employ

the services of a clairvoyant to look into the past, or hire a mage or hypnotist to make you remember.

Particularly since recal ing the attack might be traumatizing and could cause brain damage.” He

sounded both bitter and resigned. “But if”—he forced his face into neutral lines—“you, as a civilian,

choose to employ one of those esteemed individuals, and if you should choose to have me present—”

“That’s cutting the rules awful y fine, Detective Gibson.” I made sure I didn’t sound judgmental. But I

knew as wel as he did that the courts frowned on this sort of thing. Magic is a fact of life, but it is too