Mind Sweeper (6 page)

“It’s more than likely they would have killed him regardless.” Dalton leaned forward. “Do you remember anything about the guy who attacked you?”

“Vaguely. Everything is blurry. It was a male, I just don’t know if he was a supe or not. Did you get a good look at Byron’s body?”

“Why?” Dalton frowned.

“Because the way he was killed might help us determine who or what killed him.”

I could tell he was going to protest, so I plowed ahead in my normal diplomatic style. “Listen, I’m a big girl. I won’t fall apart when you tell me how he was killed. I could tell you stories of deaths that would make you lose the food you just ate.” A slight exaggeration, but I was on a roll.

“Got it, tough girl. Byron was cut up. Whoever tortured him liked knives.”

“Or maybe it was claws. We could be dealing with a shifter, or a demon. Maybe it was the demon from the bar?”

“No, that doesn’t track. The demon from the bar already knew what Byron witnessed.”

“So then who was it?”

“Maybe Jean Luc will be able to tell us something tomorrow. Why don’t we take a break? Do you want more water or need help getting to the bathroom?”

I had reached my limit. His concerned face made my chest tighten again and I had reached pissed-off mode. “I can take care of myself.” I stood on wobbly legs.

“It’s okay to accept help sometimes.”

“Says the big, strong, he-man,” I retorted.

I headed toward the bathroom, praying I wouldn’t fall flat on my face while I attempted to be indignant. He walked alongside, but had the good sense not to touch me.

“I can tell I’m not going to win this argument, but, like it or not, I’m sticking around ’til Misha gets here. Then he can take care of you. Give you one of his famous foot rubs.”

I marched into the bathroom and glared at him before banging the door shut.

Chapter 5

It was official. Waking up every hour on the hour sucked. Before I could really relax, someone would wake me. The first couple of times, Dalton checked on me. At some point during the night, Misha replaced him.

Now someone was banging around in the kitchen, so I got up, pulled on a robe and went to investigate. Misha fumbled with the coffee pot, and a half-eaten box of fry cakes sat on the table.

“Good morning, sweet.”

“Morning. Is Dalton gone?”

“He left a couple hours ago to go home and get cleaned up. He said he would be in the office later this morning.”

For some strange reason it bothered me he was gone, but I wasn’t going to dwell on it. “When did you get the fry cakes?”

“I stopped and picked some up before I relieved Joe. They were warm then.”

The bakery downstairs was open all night long, much to the delight of Misha and various Case Western and John Carroll college students who piled into cars and came in the middle of the night to buy them.

Misha grinned. “Joe thanked me for the use of my shirt.”

I shrugged. “That was nice of him.”

“I think maybe he’s a little jealous. You did tell him we’re just friends, yes?”

“I just met the guy. I don’t owe him an explanation for anything.”

He clucked his tongue. “Humans. You overanalyze everything. Chemistry can be instantaneous. Ask my last three wives.”

His statement was not as ironic as it seemed. Since it was difficult for Shamat females to bear children, demons did not mate for life unless they were biologically compatible. They stayed together for twenty years or so and then went their separate ways if no children were born.

Little warning bells went off in my head. I didn’t like where this conversation was going. “He won’t stick around for the long haul.” I knew that from experience. “He can keep his distance.”

The glare I gave Misha must have convinced him to let the subject drop.

“Do you feel up to going into work for a while?”

“Yeah. Let me take a shower and I’ll be ready in ten.”

When I stepped out of the shower, I got a good look at myself in the mirror and grimaced. The gash along my forehead had bruised and turned a lovely shade of purple. I didn’t need to call attention to myself, so I pulled a pair of scissors out of the medicine cabinet and hacked off some hair in the front, creating bangs to hang over the worst of it. It was better than nothing.

Misha insisting on driving. He was still worried about me, which became even more apparent when he offered me more than one fry cake during the ride in.

Dolly cringed when she saw me walk in. So much for camouflaging my head. She was not very demonstrative, so I was touched she cared.

“Don’t worry, Kyle, those bangs will grow out eventually.”

I sighed and kept going. Mother Teresa she was not.

Jean Luc and Dalton were in the back room, bent over the computer monitor.

“What are you guys doing?”

Jean Luc walked over and kissed me on both cheeks. He was the only person who could get away with stuff like that.

“
Ça va
?”

“I’m fine,” I answered automatically.

He stared at me for a moment. I could never lie to him. “I like your bangs, they are
tres chic
.”

I smiled. “
Merci
.”

“Where’s Misha?” Dalton asked.

“He’s parking the car.”

I nodded to Jean Luc. “So what have you found, Inspector Clouseau?”

“Byron was clean. We found nothing illegal in his apartment or his background.”

“Then we’re pretty sure his death was related to whatever happened in the bar two nights ago.” I glanced at the monitor. “Do you have pictures from the autopsy?”

Jean Luc opened the file. Gruesome to say the least. I was glad I hadn’t accepted the second fry cake from Misha. I could see Dalton watching me out of the corner of my eye, so I refused to blink.

“What about these slash wounds on his chest? Do we know what made them?”

“Doc believes it was a knife, but she is not sure yet.”

Dalton spoke up. “Do supes normally use weapons?”

“If they do not have a power which can inflict pain or death, then yes,” Jean Luc answered. “But here is the interesting part. He did not die from the knife wounds. They would have been painful, but they were superficial.”

“What did he die from, then?” I asked.

“Cause of death is still in question as well. Doc is waiting for some test results. Dalton and I have decided to check in at the storage facility in a couple of minutes.”

“But he doesn’t have clearance,” I yelped. Couldn’t seem to help myself, no sleep made Kyle a grumpy girl.

Jean Luc shook his head. “I talked to Nicholas this morning. He said Dalton is to be given full access.”

Well, wasn’t that special of him. “He’s the boss. I’d like to tag along to hear what Doc has to say.”

Dalton studied me. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Let’s motor.”

It was a little too cozy in the van with the four of us, since Misha had also insisted on coming along. We drove to our building in the warehouse district, a large, red brick monstrosity built in the twenties. From the outside it looked like it should be condemned, and luckily no one paid much attention to it. But that was the plan. We had also strategically placed biohazard signs throughout the property to keep squatters from taking up residence.

Jean Luc pulled the van into the back bay of the building and shut the door. The warehouse reminded me of every government conspiracy movie I had ever seen—rows and rows of shelves with evidence which would never see the light of day. Being a closet conspiracy theorist, I often wondered what else was being kept from all of us. Which in itself was hypocritical, since I was a keeper of the closet keys. At least the supernatural closet.

Dalton walked next to me as we wound our way toward the morgue. He was trying hard not to gape at the shelves containing beakers of God only knows what, but was failing miserably. We came to the door leading to our lab and small morgue. Jean Luc typed in the security code to access the room. The doors opened with a swish. Very evil la-BOR-a-tory-like.

The headless vampire lay in the middle of the room on the exam table. Doc Miller leaned over the body with her hands immersed in his chest cavity. She stood up and placed the vamp’s heart in a metal dish. Stripping off her gloves and pulling down her mask she smiled. Even standing over a corpse she was beautiful, much like she had been yesterday in the ER. How could she look like a supermodel after she just extracted a bloody organ from a corpse? My little green monster reared its ugly head and I gritted my teeth.

Doc Miller laughed. “You need to dial down the animosity, McKinley. I can feel it from here. A girl can’t help it if she’s beautiful.”

I smiled broadly. “All-knowing bitch.”

She frowned. “I am not all-knowing. You scared me to death at the hospital. Luckily Misha called so I could make sure to be available when you got there.”

“Sorry, Doc, not my choice. If I had known you were on call, I would have asked the guy to wait until you were off shift to bean me on the head.”

“Smart-ass.” She walked over to me. “Nice bangs.”

“Shut up.”

She reached up and pushed back my hair, checking my scalp. “The stitches look fine. How are you feeling today?”

“Better.”

“Why did you bother trying to lie to me yesterday about how you were feeling?”

“A girl can’t help her natural inclinations.”

“Enough with the girl talk. Introduce me to your newest team member. I didn’t get a chance to meet him officially yesterday.”

“Doctor Sabrina Miller, this is Lieutenant Joe Dalton. He’s the media relations officer for the police department. Dalton, this is Doc Miller. As you already know, her full time job is as an ER doc. But she’s also our part-time ME and a succubus.”

He gawked at me like I’d goosed him.

“You know, she can suck your life energy when she has sex with you.”

His eyes actually bugged out more.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe. She’s reformed.”

“Good to know,” he croaked.

Doc Miller beamed at him. “Sorry for the playacting in the ER yesterday, Joe. But we don’t acknowledge each other in public.”

“Got it.” Dalton stared at her like a deer in the headlights.

Okaaay
… It was time to move things along. “What have you got for us, Doc?”

She walked over to the other exam table and folded back the sheet. Even though I had seen Byron’s body in the earlier photos, I was not prepared for the live rendition. I stifled a gasp. Staring down at his body, I kept hearing his voice when he begged me to wipe his memory. But it hadn’t been enough to save him. A lump lodged in my throat. Why did life have to suck?

Doc interrupted my thoughts. “First of all, the slices on his chest were not made by a knife as I first thought. It appears as if the skin split apart from the inside. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I gulped. “And that’s how he died?”

“No, his heart stopped.”

“He had a heart attack from the torture?” Dalton asked.

“No, a heart attack would have caused tissue scarring and there was none.”

“So why would your heart just stop?” I had to ask, although I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.

“It wouldn’t stop under normal circumstances.” Doc glanced at Misha.

I glared at him. “Have you seen this before?”

“Not personally, but there have been cases of this.” He hesitated. “There are demons with the ability to stop a person’s heart.”

“What! Why haven’t you told me this before?”

“I’ve not heard of this in over a century, little one. I didn’t see any point.”

I opened my mouth to protest some more, but he continued.

“I did not see any point in telling you about these demons, since they were tales told to me as a child. Demons this powerful are no longer allowed on earth. They are too dangerous.”

I blurted, “So you’re telling me some crazy rogue demon is on the loose?”

“Yes, it looks that way.”

Dalton jumped in. “If something is powerful enough to stop a heart with a thought, why would he knock Kyle over the head?”

Misha pursed his lips. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe we are dealing with two attackers?” Jean Luc spoke up.

Great, because things weren’t already complicated enough. “Why would they both go after Byron? They obviously believed he knew something important.”

Dalton shook his head. “I think we’re missing something here. We need to start back at the beginning. The question we should be asking ourselves is, what is so important about this vampire that a demon and an angel would fight over him?”

Doc Miller, Jean Luc and Misha nodded.
What the hell?

“Doc, have we ID’d the vamp yet?” Dalton asked.

“I’m running his fingerprints through the database right now.”