“You don’t remember why, or you don’t remember robbing it?” I prompted. Zombies were always a little short on the attention span. It was hard to keep them focused on the questions, and if you lost their attention too early on, the whole interrogation became a waste of time.

  “Where am I?” she asked, avoiding the question. Viktor’s nose twitched and her hand abruptly curled into a fist, causing the nails to screech against the metal. The noise made my ears ache and my skin crawl. I hated that sound.

  As gross as it was, I was glad she was in pieces and couldn’t walk around, not that Viktor would let that happen. Zombies were not allowed to get off the table, not even during an interrogation.

  “You’re dead and in the coroner’s office. What is the last thing you remember?” I asked.

  “Dead?” the girl asked. “That’s odd. I’m still hungry.”

  I glanced at Viktor. He shrugged, but a frown tugged at his lips. “You can have a nice cup of blood if you answer my questions,” I said.

  “I’d rather have something else...” the woman said, her charred face seeming to brighten with excitement. She blinked rapidly, and the head wobbled as her teeth clicked together as if she were chewing.

  The sight of a burnt, severed head chewing like that was going to haunt my nightmares forever. “Sure, whatever you want,” I lied to get her to stop making that awful noise. “Now, tell me what’s the last thing you remember?”

  “I was walking home around midnight, and I heard something odd,” the vampire said. Viktor’s nose twitched again. “Then everything went sideways. Now I’m here. Can I have something to eat now? Human food?”

  “Just one more question,” Swift interjected. “What did you smell right before you died?”

  Martina’s face contorted into a grimace, and another chunk of her eyebrow plopped onto the table. “Something stinky.”

  Swift pinched her brows together and looked at me. “That’s odd.”

  When she didn’t finish her thought, I raised my brow. “Well?”

  Swift shook herself out of her thoughts. “If it’s not some kind of psychotic break, it seems like a possession. I have no idea what could, or would, even want to possess a vampire though. Demons haven’t been an issue for years.

  “I’m so hungry,” the vampire whined.

  “We’re done, Viktor,” I said, wanting to avoid any more begging from the dead chick.

  Viktor nodded and closed his hands. The vampire went still, freezing with the eyes open, but she was dead for good.

  “Can we interrogate the werewolf,” Swift flipped open her notebook to check his name, “Antonio Ricci, as well?”

  “No,” Viktor said, offended for a second time. “You crushed its head. I cannot reanimate a corpse without an intact brain.”

  Swift looked properly chagrined. “I’ll keep that in mind when I’m detaining suspects in the future,” she said.

  “See that you do.” Viktor pulled the sheet back over the vampire’s remains then stripped off his gloves, tossing them in the trash.

  “I’m sure we’ll see you again soon, Viktor. Thanks for the help,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder as I walked past.

  “Anytime, Blackwell,” Viktor said, narrowing his eyes at Swift as she followed me out of the morgue.

  “I’m impressed you kept your lunch,” I commented as we headed back to our area of the IMIB offices.

  “If I can handle looking at that all day,” she said, gesturing at my head, “then I can deal with a crispy, reanimated vampire.”

  I glared at her but decided the silent treatment was the safest option. My office was a quick elevator ride and short walk away.

  We walked into the department, and I stopped in my tracks as a horrifying sight met my eyes. My desk was being carried out of my office, and two smaller desks sat outside, ready to be moved in.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I demanded, striding toward the movers.

  The mover froze. “Chief Bradley instructed us to tell you he was ordering you to clean your old desk out,” he said. “There was no room for a second desk in there otherwise.”

  I ground my teeth together. They didn’t have a choice. “This is all your fault,” I said, turning my glare on Swift.

  She grinned and strode toward the office, completely unconcerned. I followed, and cleaned my desk out while the whole department watched. My irritation grew with every piece of paper I had to move.

  “We need to go through Martina Bianchi’s house,” Swift said, tapping her foot impatiently.

  “It’s probably 10:00 p.m. in Seattle right now. Unlike Moira, the city does shut down at night,” I said, slamming the last drawer shut. “I’m calling it a day.”

  Swift huffed in irritation but didn’t bother arguing. “Fine, I’ll see you bright and early in the morning, partner.”

  Seven

  The faces of the victims, Martina Bianchi, vampire mafia matriarch, and Antonio Ricci, her ruthless – and now pancake-faced – werewolf enforcer, hovered at the top of the large screen that was built into the walls of the conference room.

  The System, as we called it, was relatively new technology that had rolled out a few years back. In the past, we had whiteboards where we taped up the pictures of victims and suspects and wrote out notes; now I could access all of that electronically. Everything was connected, with user permissions dictating who could see what. They claimed it was un-hackable, which to me sounded more like they had thrown down a challenge; but for four years they’d been right.

  I flicked my finger lazily across my tablet, and the list of their crimes popped up below their faces. The lists were...not short. “Who are her biggest rivals?” I asked. “We should start there. They’d have the most to gain from her death.”

  “Not her own family? Her son is named as her successor; but if he wanted to take over the business, he would have to wait a long time if dear old mom was near-immortal,” Swift said, swiveling in her chair to face me. She typed something on her tablet, which was connected to the screen, and the son’s picture and criminal history appeared to the left of Martina’s. There wasn’t much there surprisingly.

  “We can check on that, too, but her family was stable. Loyal. I think it’s more likely it was an outsider,” I said with a shrug. Whether because she was a vampire, or a good leader, she had kept her family together without incident for over two hundred years. That was impressive.

  “Everyone thinks their family is loyal until they get stabbed in the back. Look,” she pointed at the screen with her tablet, “she turned her son almost fifty years ago, but she’s kept him on the fringes of the business. That has to have pissed him off.”

  I walked over to the electronic board and tapped on his name, which then showed his recent affiliations. Charity. Marketing. Funding start-ups. I snorted, “Maybe it would piss you off, but it looks more like he chose not to get involved in the mafia stuff. For a vampire, he’s basically a saint.” I turned back to face her and slipped my hands into the pockets of my slacks. “Sounds like you’re projecting.”

  Swift’s face hardened and her pink eyes glinted with magic. If looks could kill, I’d be a pile of ash. “I was right about the suicide; maybe you could take my observations seriously instead of being dismissive,” Swift said, her fingers digging into the edge of her tablet.

  “It’s not dismissive to prove you’re wrong,” I said, flopping down in my chair. The muscle in Swift’s jaw twitched as she ground her teeth together.

  “I’ll pull up a file on everyone who’s affiliated with organized crime in Seattle, but we are going to talk to her son,” she insisted.

  “Fine, but it’s a waste of time,” I shrugged. That wasn’t actually true. It was necessary, even if it was just to rule him out as a suspect. I wasn’t ever that sloppy, but the urge to disagree with Swift was just too strong sometimes. Eventually, she’d give up on this partnership and ask for a transfer, then things could get back to normal.

  She muttered something, probably insulting, under her breath before jabbing at her tablet again. The System began compiling a list of people known to be involved in organized crime in the region. “As for the rival angle, it could be someone new trying to make a name for themselves, or take over her territory. What we really need is to be able to talk to someone involved with the mafia around here. You know anyone that would help us out, or do I need to take care of that too?” Swift asked.

  “Maybe,” I replied, tapping my fingers against the mahogany table top as I tried to mentally talk myself out of the first idea that had come to mind. I knew someone all right, but talking to him was not advisable.

  “Either you do, or you don’t,” Swift said.

  “I’ll let you know if he’s available for questions tomorrow.” I stood and straightened my suit jacket. “Let’s go to their houses and take a look around. We can’t make any more progress sitting around in here.”

  “I’ll make an appointment with Alberto Bianchi if I can, even if I have to go alone.” Swift slapped the cover of her tablet shut so hard I had to wonder if she’d cracked it. “I guess we have to walk from the Rune Rail Station to their houses since your dinky little car got crushed.”

  I smirked at her. “What’s the problem? Are your boots not made for walking?”

  Eight

  Martina Bianchi lived in a condo in downtown Seattle. The place had been taped off as a crime scene while the search warrant was served. With two million in cash missing, there was no way the IMIB would let the family back in this place before the money was found.

  I nodded at the patrol officer who was stationed at the door, then ducked under the yellow tape and took in the room. Clean, modern, and well lit for a place with no windows. A screen that took up the entire back wall showed the view the condo should have had. The Space Needle glinted in the distance, towering over the surrounding buildings.

  I pulled on the blue latex gloves we were required to wear at crime scenes as I walked toward the kitchen. It had been converted to a game room; the only remaining amenity for any human visitors was a mini-fridge and a microwave. A massive sectional with enough room for a dozen people was arranged around the screen in the living area.

  Sergeant Lopez walked out of the bedroom, casting a confused glance at Swift but stopping in her tracks when she saw me. She crossed her arms and cocked her head. “Detective Blackwell, interesting look,” she said in greeting. Lopez was a short woman with dark-brown hair and eyes the same color. Her round face made her look approachable, soft even, but I had quickly learned that was not the case.

  I ran my hands through the pink strands on my head. “I lost a bet.”

  “You? Lost a bet?” Lopez said, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Who managed to get one over on you?”

  “I did,” Swift said walking up to her. “Detective Lexi Swift,” she said extending her hand to Lopez. “I’m Blackwell’s new partner.”

  “Sergeant Camila Lopez,” she said, shaking her hand and looking at her appraisingly. Lopez had joined the IMIB only two years ago, but she had been promoted up fast. She was some kind of shifter, though I had no idea what type, and it was rude to ask. She should have been a detective already with intelligence, but the rules dictated five years with the IMIB before you could be promoted up to that rank. Lucky for me, that meant she assisted me on cases. She was as close to a partner as I had had for the past two years, ever since my previous partner, Detective Anthony Granger, was killed.

  “This doesn’t look like the kind of place a vampire on the verge of blood psychosis would live,” Swift commented as she opened the door to one of the bedrooms.

  “Nope,” Lopez agreed, looking around the place. “There’s no sign of the money she stole either. Security logs her coming back that night after she robbed that bank, but she didn’t bring it with her. We’ve been over this place with a fine-tooth comb. I put in a request to punch a few holes in the walls to check in there, but it was denied.”

  I snorted. That was Lopez for you. “I’m surprised you didn’t do it anyway.”

  “Not all of us can get away with destroying stuff like you can, Detective,” she said, glancing at my hair again. “Glad to see you’ve got someone to keep you in line now.”

  Swift grinned. “He looks awful in pink, doesn’t he?” she said, winking at Lopez, who busted out laughing.

  I groaned and turned away from the two women. Just what I needed, Swift recruiting all my coworkers to give me hell. I walked into the bathroom and dug through the cabinets and drawers, but there was no sign of illicit drugs, or even legal ones. The whole place was tidy and cozy, nothing like what I had expected.

  Vampires that went feral always had warning signs. They would nest, tearing up blankets and pillows to build a safe place for their mates. Then, they would become aggressive and territorial, especially toward other vampires. Finally, they would start killing people. The cause was usually starvation, or severe over-feeding, but that sort of thing hardly ever happened anymore. Whatever Bianchi’s issue had been, blood psychosis was definitely not it.

  “It’s like she snapped out of nowhere,” Swift said, appearing at the bathroom door.

  “There had to have been a reason,” I said, rubbing my hand along my jaw. “She didn’t remember anything, so someone else had to have made her rob that bank.”

  Swift stared at the floor, her eyes distant.

  “What are you thinking?” I prompted.

  “I’m not sure yet. Let’s go check out the werewolf’s place. I’m curious if we’ll see the same thing there.” Swift turned and headed back into the main area of the condo.

  I lingered in the bathroom. The only thing out of place was a comb on the edge of the sink. I picked it up, and a long black hair clung to the teeth.

  “Lopez, can you bag this and get it tested?” I asked, striding out of the bathroom. “Bianchi had brown hair, not black. Could be a friend, or a date, but I’d like to know for sure. Give me a call when you get the results.”

  “Will do, boss man,” she said, carefully taking the edge of the comb with her gloved hand.

  While Martina Bianchi had been old money, her enforcer was not. She paid him well, but his choice in condo and decor was...different. It was the kind of place you called a bachelor pad, if you were being polite; and, if you were being honest, the house of a man that could only offer a woman money.

  The center of the room was dominated by a huge fountain. In the middle of that was a...pillar...spurting water a third of a meter into the air.

  “Somebody is overcompensating,” Swift said as she looked around the room. The living area had a massive u-shaped sectional around the biggest television I’d ever seen.

  Everything in the house was bigger, or more expensive, than it needed to be. He even had two refrigerators. Granted, werewolves ate a whole lot more than humans or mages, but it was still overkill.

  I opened the closest refrigerator. It was mostly beer and meat fresh from the butcher, except for a package with something familiar – onigiri. Based on the other things Ricci seemed to like, that was an odd choice.

  “Hungry, Blackwell?” A deep voice rumbled behind me.

  I turned to see Sergeant Danner, an old mage who looked more like a homeless person than an IMIB agent. He squinted at my hair but didn’t comment on it. Danner had a motto: if it ain’t my problem, it ain’t my problem. Redundant, but it meant he did his job and went home and never had any problems with anyone.

  “No, but I’m wondering if our victim had company right before he died,” I said, stepping back and pointing at the Japanese food.

  Danner pursed his lips and shrugged. “We dusted this whole place, no recent prints other than Ricci’s.”

  Swift appeared behind us. “What did you find?”

  “Not much,” I said, jabbing my thumb at the onigiri. “Any signs of a struggle?”

  “None,” Swift said, shaking her head. “The place isn’t exactly spotless, but there’s nothing like that.”

  “Maybe he just snapped,” Danner mused, gnawing on a toothpick that I swore hadn’t been in his mouth two seconds ago. I hadn’t seen him move, though. I was starting to suspect he just kept them in his cheeks like some kind of grizzled chipmunk.

  “I’d believe that, if it weren’t for the vampire,” I said, rubbing the back of my hair in irritation. If I had waited just a few more minutes to get more details on the case and hadn’t been distracted by having a new partner dumped in my lap, I wouldn’t have taken that stupid bet.

  “Then it has to be possession,” Swift said. “It’s the only thing left that makes any sort of sense, especially with the werewolf doing the same thing. A demon might go on a random killing spree like this, but I haven’t ever heard of one jumping from person to person, much less possessing supernaturals.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “All right, say I agree with that. We’ll have to narrow down what might be possessing him and if a rival is controlling them somehow.”

  “I have a contact that can help with this,” Swift said, looking like she wanted to say I told you so.

  “Fine, but if he leaks any of this, it’s on your head.”

  Swift shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

  Nine

  I hung up the phone from my aggravating conversation with Rune Ride. Apparently, they weren’t keen on rushing a replacement car to me after the one I had was demolished. I hated the public transportation system in Seattle, so the buses were out. I also hated other people driving, so a cab was out of the question as well.

  “We’re going to have to walk back,” I announced, shoving my phone back in my pocket.

  “It’s three kilometers back to the Rune Rail,” Swift protested.

 

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