“But the other one will recover,” Ryan broke in. “How soon can we talk to him?”
“A day, perhaps two. As soon as he is fully fed, his system will rejuvenate during the sleep cycle. I will call when he is ready.”
As the vampires left, Ari wondered what kind of treatment the vampires would receive. The Otherworld hospitals carried a blood supply, but she’d never seen a vampire there. Then again, how often did a vampire need medical treatment? Andreas said the victims needed blood from a master level vampire. Would that have to be Prince Daron or were there other masters? Like maybe Andreas?
Ryan’s relief that the vampires had taken charge of the victims was palpable. Ari wanted to mention how helpful it was to have a vampire partner, but she held her tongue. There are limits, even in a healthy friendship.
Steffan and his wolves went home. Ari, Ryan, and the four police officers searched the rest of the house. The strong doggie odor left by unwashed werewolf bodies, mingled with the smell of dirty clothes and spoiled food, made the search rather unpleasant. They didn’t find much beyond empty beer cans, cigar butts, and discarded takeout cartons. Ari took a quick look at the electronic equipment, a fax machine and two printers, all empty. The laptop she’d seen in Molyneux’s office was missing, probably in his carry bag.
Ryan’s grim-faced team carried the last evidence bags to the van. As Ari and Ryan followed, she leaned toward him, keeping her voice low. “Why such long faces? We recovered the vampires.”
“An empty house. Junk for evidence. What do you expect?” He gave her a calculated look. “But you know what’s wrong. The wolves should be in custody. Would be, if something hadn’t spooked them.” He shook his head. “I’d sure as hell like to know how that happened.”
Ari watched him walk away, his body bristling with tension. She thought he was overreacting and hurried to catch him. She laid a hand on his arm. “We’ll find them again. Maybe their escape wasn’t all bad. It’s a residential neighborhood, and they weren’t going to give up without a bloodbath. And Andreas seemed relieved to get his vampires back.” When Ryan glowered at her, she realized this had been the wrong moment to mention the vampire. “Yeah, it wasn’t a perfect outcome. But this isn’t over.”
Chapter Nineteen
Ari woke at dawn, shivering. A cold breeze blew in her open bedroom window, rattling the blinds. But the real reason for her chill was the dream.
She’d been looking in the window of Molyneux’s library. A large, red wolf laughed as he dropped silver coins into the hands of a shadowy figure. Ari struggled to make out the other face but could never quite see it. The wolf counted the coins, one by one. She heard the metallic clinks. When he reached the thirtieth piece of silver, she woke, his laughter ringing in her ears, the face of Judas still unseen.
Ari closed the window and snuggled under the covers. She didn’t feel nearly as complacent about last night’s events. She’d had other dream fragments since childhood whenever faced with difficult or disturbing problems. In this case, her subconscious was searching for the traitor who tipped the wolves to the raid. While Molyneux’s trip appeared to be an unhappy twist of fate, the escape of the pack was due to a last minute warning…one only a limited number of people could have given.
Ryan would blame Andreas. He trusted Ari, he trusted his cops, and he’d trust Steffan because Ari did. In Ryan’s mind, Andreas and his vampires would be the only suspects left. Besides, Ryan found vampires the most inhuman. In his book, that translated to least trusted.
Ari didn’t want Andreas to be the leak, but wanting wouldn’t make it so. She kept remembering the first night in Goshen Park. Had he been tracking the wolf, like he said, or meeting him?
She turned over, fluffed the pillow, and drifted back into a restless sleep.
* * *
An hour later, Ari woke to the jarring ring of the phone. ID came up as Ryan. She groaned, not yet ready to deal with him and the inevitable accusations. But his first words brought her wide-awake.
“Molyneux crossed the border during the night. He’s back in Canada. Border guards apparently missed our BOLO.” He sounded exasperated and grumpy. “I don’t know what happened to the rest of the pack. No one was with him. Sheila Montgomery is the only other name we’ve got, and it hasn’t popped up anywhere.”
“Then they might still be near Riverdale,” Ari said.
“They could be almost anywhere.”
Maybe, but Olde Town was where they had contacts. Someone in town had helped them. The way Ari figured it, they’d hide nearby until Molyneux got in touch with further instructions.
Ryan asked if she’d heard from Andreas yet. When she said no, neither of them pursued the subject. Ari was glad to delay a discussion of Ryan’s suspicions until they had more information. The longer the delay, the better. Who knew? Something good could happen in the meantime.
To keep busy while she waited to hear from Andreas, she followed through on a promise to Claris. They spent the day cutting, separating, and tying medicinal plants and herbs to be dried. Claris acted a bit lonely with Brando out of town at a five-day conference on scientific wizardry. The busywork was a good chance for the two friends to catch up on gossip and indulge in girl talk.
On the way home late that night, Ari smelled the presence of werewolves. She took a meandering route through Olde Town, not wanting to lead them to her front door. She doubled back three times, hoping to catch them, but she didn’t see a single wolf. When the smell and tingle of their Otherworld energy finally dissipated, she went home. Ari was determined to put an end to this soon. The wolves were becoming far too bold.
* * *
When the night passed with still no word from Andreas, Ryan called first thing in the morning. His suspicions had taken root and flourished over night.
“If Andreas is working with the wolves and tipped off Molyneux, he wouldn’t want us to know what Gordon and Marcus have to say.” Ryan’s voice dripped with accusation. “Now that I think about it, he was very anxious to take them away. How do we know we’ll ever see them again? Hell, they could both be dust by now.”
“Come on, Ryan. Andreas isn’t going to harm Marcus. He was worried about him. Searched every night for him.”
“Or that’s what he wanted you to think,” Ryan countered. “Makes a good cover.”
“Cover for what? What’s this big conspiracy about?” Ari thought Ryan was letting the stress and frustration get to him.
“I don’t know…yet.”
She didn’t share his suspicions. Not really. But he’d planted the seed. Or maybe watered it. The rest of the day, Ari replayed recent events in her head, searching for logical explanations. Something to prove Ryan was wrong—and that she hadn’t made a big mistake by trusting a vampire.
What would Andreas gain from an alliance with Molyneux? The werewolf could be interested in the money, but the vampire? Ari didn’t think so. Not judging by the decor of the club and his expensive clothes. Power or revenge, maybe, but not money. Damn, why didn’t he call?
When the phone finally rang shortly after dark, Ari snatched it, hoping to hear Andreas’s voice. Her tense shoulders relaxed. Gordon was awake and talking.
“What did he say? Does he know why they took him?”
Andreas hesitated. “It would be better for everyone to hear the words directly from Gordon. So there is no question of interpretation. Where can we meet?”
“What’s wrong with the police station?”
He hesitated again. “I’m not certain Gordon is ready for such an intimidating atmosphere.”
And maybe Gordon wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to be surrounded by human cops, Ari thought. Vampires weren’t real keen about outside authorities. In this case, Andreas didn’t trust the police anymore than they trusted him. She racked her brain for some place to meet that was neutral territory. Eventually, it dawned on her that she had an office. She’d only been in it once, but she had an assigned space at the Otherworld Cultural Center attached to the Magic Hall.
As soon as Andreas consented to the location, she called Ryan, and he approved. At least she’d found something they could agree on.
Ari arrived early at the Magic Hall in order to track down a set of keys. The white-haired custodian blinked at her request. His rheumy eyes peered at her from under bushy white eyebrows. After she explained who she was and showed him her ID, he placed two keys in her hand.
“You’re responsible for any guests,” he said sternly.
Ari produced a smile meant to reassure him, but she wasn’t sure it worked. The ancient custodian frowned, shaking his head as he shuffled down the hall.
Maybe the ponytail didn’t inspire confidence, Ari decided. It made her look too young. She pulled out the band and shook her hair loose. She’d need all the authority she could muster during the next hour or two.
Her office was a roomy rectangle, with an oak desk, leather chairs and a conference table that seated six, eight in a pinch. The well-worn chairs looked relatively comfortable and had that pleasant smell of old leather. A bookcase with two books, a Cultural Center Manual and an English dictionary, stood against one wall. Overhead lights and a gold-plated desk lamp with a green shade provided adequate lighting. No dust. Somebody must come in and clean. Who knew?
Ari picked up the manual, selected a chair on the far side of the table, and prepared to wait. As she thumbed through the book, the other participants trooped through her open door in one large group. Everyone was dressed casually in jeans and jackets. Andreas’s sleek leather jacket appeared to be his usual brand.
Ryan’s lips were drawn in a tight line. Grumpy, she concluded. Andreas was wearing his polite mask. Ari sighed. Resigned to the inevitable, she ignored the animosity of the two men and focused on the witness.
Without the feral stare from blood deprivation, Gordon was a nice looking vampire. A little too punk for Ari’s taste, with the head bandanna and the heavy jewelry, but she could see why he appealed to Rita. The attitude didn’t match his style. Gordon was twitchy; his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed repeatedly. She wondered if this was typical behavior or a side effect of his recent captivity. He stuck close to Andreas.