The Fledgling (3 page)

“Yes, he was. Did he and Peter know each other?”

“I don’t think so. Jensen used to run in the afternoons, before Peter usually came to work.”

“Did Jensen have any problems with anyone?”

“Not that I know of, but I can ask the daytime receptionist if you want me to.”

“That would be great.” Talia smiled at her. She pulled a business card out of her jeans pocket and laid it on the counter. “I wrote down the phone number of the hotel where I’m staying. If you think of anything, please call me. Any time. If I’m not there, you can leave a message with the front desk.”

“Peter didn’t deserve to die.” Deanna’s lip quivered.

“No, he didn’t. Which is why I’ll be grateful for any help you can give me.” Energy skittered across her skin. The supernatural was closer now, but she wasn’t skilled enough to distinguish what type she was dealing with. “Do you mind if I look around a bit?”

* * *

Jean Luc walked up the sidewalk to the small bungalow. He rang the doorbell and waited. Someone was definitely home, since a television program blared through the door. After another minute, the door cracked open, and an old man peeked out under the security chain.

“I’m not buying anything.”

Jean Luc held up his hands in front of him. “I am not a salesman. I work for the police department. I would like to ask you some more questions about your neighbor, Peter.”

The old man sighed. “The cops questioned me two days ago and then again this morning. Don’t you guys talk to each other?”

“I am sorry to bother you again, sir. May I ask who was here this morning?”

“Real pretty black girl. Said she had some follow-up questions.”

“And what did she ask you?”

“Wanted to know if Peter had any hobbies or anything. Told her he was a workaholic. He was working a second job at the gym on Broad Street. Are we done? I want to get back to my show.”

Jean Luc thanked him and jogged back to the car.

“What’s up?” Misha asked.

Jean Luc squealed away from the curb.

Misha grabbed onto the handle above the door. “What’s the rush?”

“Our bounty hunter was here.”

“And? You’ve been driving like a madman ever since you met this female. Are your vampy senses tingling?” Misha laughed. “Spidey. Vampy…do you get it?”

Jean Luc scowled. “We need to find Talia. If I had to guess, I would say she is getting herself into trouble.”

Chapter 4

“Hey, bayyy-beee.”

God, she had to have set a land speed record for attracting trouble. She had toured the gym, but hadn’t found anything, not even the supernatural she had sensed earlier. All she wanted to do now was go back to her hotel, but two humans stood in the alley blocking her way. From their unsteady stance and the thick stench of alcohol wafting from them, they were drunk. Talia kept walking and reached into her pocket for her keys.

“Hey! I’m talking to you.”

Talia held up her hand. “I’m not looking for trouble.”

“Who said anything ’bout trouble?” The guy stepped between Talia and the mouth of the alley.

“It’s been a long day.”

“I couldn’t agree more. I could use some stress relief.”

Was he kidding?
“Maybe another time, okay?”

She tried to step past him, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her close. Instead of struggling, she used the momentum to push toward him hard, and then jerked back. He lost his grip, and she kneed him in the balls. With a harsh grunt, he folded in on himself, clutching his crotch and groaning.

Talia spun around, ready to confront the other man. He reached for her and she dodged him, slamming her elbow into his back so he stumbled forward face-first onto the pavement. Talia pinned his arm behind him.

“Bitch. What’s wrong with you? I thought you wanted some company.”

“What the hell gave you that idea?”

“He said you were looking for some fun. Gave us fifty bucks to show you a good time.”

“Who?” He hesitated, and she yanked his arm, hard.

“Ow, shit! I don’t know, some guy.”

“What guy? What did he look like?”

“I don’t know. Big.”

“Well he was wrong.”

“Okay, fine. Let me up.”

Talia backed off, and he pushed himself up on hands and knees and finally struggled to his feet. He looked down at his clothes. His front was covered in some type of oil.

He glared at her. “You’re going to pay for this.”

One moment he lunged for her, and the next, he flew off his feet backward and hit the ground with a grunt. The air rushed around her, and Jean Luc appeared, standing over the prostrate man. He took one look at Jean Luc and scrabbled backward like a crab before jumping up and staggering down the street.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

He lifted his eyebrows. “Apparently saving you.”

She looked down at the other man, who was still moaning and holding his balls. “Thanks, but I had it under control.”

Before Jean Luc could respond, Misha rushed around the corner of the building, shaking his head as he took in the scene. “I knew we shouldn’t have split up. I missed all the fun yet again.”

The second man lurched to his feet and ran.

“Should I go after him?” Misha asked.

“Don’t bother. They’re drunk idiots.”

Jean Luc scowled at her. “What if he had been a shifter instead of a human?”

“I would have handled it. I can take care of myself.”

Sirens wailed in the distance.

He held out his hand to her. “Come. We need to leave.”

“I’m not leaving my car here overnight.”

He nodded, throwing a set of keys to Misha. “We’ll meet you back at the office.”

Misha glanced between the two of them and then smiled like a kid in a candy store.

“Why is he smiling like that?”

Jean Luc shrugged. “Misha is perpetually happy. It takes a bit of time to become accustomed to it.”

* * *

Jean Luc watched Talia prowl the living room, which they had converted into the BSR office. She studied the mismatched, secondhand furniture.

“I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t this. Why is your office in a house?”

“It is convenient. We live here as well.”

Her gaze landed on the shelf next to the desk. It was piled high with enough food to rival any convenience store.

“How many people work here?”

“Misha and I.”

Talia’s mouth fell open. “He eats
all
this food?”

The corners of Jean Luc’s mouth quivered. “Misha’s metabolism is equivalent to an army of teenage boys.”

She walked behind the desk and ran her fingers over the computer keyboard. Then she picked up the cube puzzle and started working it. “What exactly does the Bureau of Supernatural Relations do when it’s not solving murders?”

“We cover up supernatural blunders. Humans are not ready to know about us.”

She stopped playing with the cube and met his gaze. “Do you think they ever will be?”

“Possibly, but I have not seen it in my lifetime.”

“How old are you?” She grinned, her eyes sparking with mischief. “Or is it impolite to ask?”

“I am three hundred and seventy-five.”

“Holy crap.”

He chuckled at her exclamation. “When you consider a vampire’s normal life span, I am actually not very old.”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

What did she mean? Had nothing been explained to her by her sire? “Talia, when were you turned?”

Her expression shut down and she folded her arms. “Five years ago.”

Five years?
Dieu
, she was an infant. What had her sire been teaching her during this time? He almost asked her just that, but Misha burst into the room in his normal fashion, a half-eaten burrito clutched in one hand and a take-out bag with a large grease stain in the other. “Sorry I took so long, but I had to stop for dinner.” He plopped the bag on the desk. “We better give Nicholas a call.”

“Who is Nicholas?” Talia asked.

“Our boss,” Misha responded while dialing the speaker phone.

When Nicholas answered, Talia began to pace the room again. Jean Luc spoke first, introducing her and then explaining what they had learned about the victims so far.

“Why did you go to this fitness club?” Nicholas asked.

“The most recent victim worked for the gym in the evenings.” Jean Luc answered.

Talia interjected, “And the first victim exercised there.”

“How did you learn that?” Misha asked between bites of his nachos.

She smiled. “I have my sources.”

“Interesting,” Nicholas responded, his voice sounding like he was in a cave. “Ms. Walker, how would you feel about working with Jean Luc and Misha on this case?”

That was not a good idea. Jean Luc interrupted, “She is a bounty hunter, Nicholas. We do not require her assistance.”

She frowned at him, her eyes sparking.

“I disagree,” Nicholas said. “She beat us to this fitness club and learned about the first victim as well. She has contacts we can leverage in this situation. We cannot allow it to keep escalating. Find a way to work together.”

The phone went dead.

“That went well.” Misha scooped up his food wrappers and stuffed them into the garbage can. He turned to Talia. “You will work with us, yes?”

“Yes, if your boss is willing to pay me.” She glared at Jean Luc. “Unless you’re going to have a problem with it?”

Jean Luc narrowed his eyes at her. “No problem.”

“I will speak to Nicholas about your pay.” Misha glanced between the two of them. “Well…I think I could use an ice cream sundae right about now. I’m going to run out for a bit to let you two have some vampire alone time.”

“That is unnecessary,” Jean Luc growled.

“No, my friend, it is necessary, because my blood sugar is low. Something sweet should do the trick.” He winked at Talia and rushed out the door, much as he had arrived, in a burst of energy.

Talia shook her head slightly. “He does take some getting used to.” She rubbed her hands over her face and took a deep breath. The fight left her eyes.

Jean Luc frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

He stepped closer, not believing her. “Were you hurt during the fight?”

“No, I’m fine, really.”

His gaze swept over her, stopping on her face. He had not noticed the dark circles under her eyes earlier. “When was the last time you fed?”

She looked down at the floor, as if uncomfortable with the subject. “A few days, maybe. But I have a bag in a cooler in my car.”

“As a fledgling, you need to feed frequently.”

She pursed her lips in the most distracting way. “How often do you feed?”

“The older a vampire is, the less blood he requires. I feed once every few weeks. Did your sire not explain all of this to you?”

She walked toward the door. “I’m going to feed.”

“Talia, wait. Where is your sire?”

She opened the door and stepped out. “I have no sire.”

* * *

Talia should have known Jean Luc wouldn’t let her leave so easily. He flashed through the door and blocked her path before she got down the front steps.

She pushed hard against his chest, but she couldn’t budge him. “Get the hell out of my way!”

“What happened to your sire?”

“I wouldn’t know.” She hoped he was rotting in hell, if vampires actually went to hell.

“That makes no sense. A sire’s duty is to explain our world and assist with a fledgling’s adjustment.”

She blew out a harsh breath. “He must not have read the handy-dandy manual on vamp etiquette.”

Jean Luc stared hard at her. “Talia, were you turned willingly?”

Her throat tightened and she choked out the answer. “No.”

His eyes flashed an eerie, deep red. “Who was it?”

She threw her hands into the air. “Why does it matter?”

“Because what he has done is punishable by death.”

Jean Luc’s voice had lowered an octave and his fangs appeared. Energy sizzled off his skin, peppering the air with static.

Talia stepped back. She didn’t need a champion, and from the look on Jean Luc’s face, she knew he would not let this go if she told him the truth. “I don’t know who it was. Please, leave it alone.”

He stared at her as if he could unlock all of her secrets. After a few more seconds, Jean Luc closed his eyes and appeared to collect himself. The air around them lost its charge and his fangs retracted. His face changed from fearsome to contemplative.

“Has no one told you of our laws, of our abilities?” he asked softly.

“No.” She looked away, keeping the angry tears from falling.