Stitching the Talisman (Kali James Book 3), page 19
Volkov’s shifters came back empty-handed, claiming the trail went cold mere feet from the front door. Xavier theorized it to be the work of a spell. I perked up at his mention of a scent masking spell. I’d have to hit up Helen and the witches for one of those, which would be so much more pleasant than eating liver and onions or spritzing myself with deer urine.
Despite the shifter’s report, Volkov wouldn’t be satisfied until he checked the grounds for himself. While Volkov had Xavier take him to the place in the woods where he woke up, Craig and I remained in the library. I updated Craig about what I’d found searching for Freddie’s offspring. He said he’d get his contacts to dig into it. Hopefully, they could track down a name of Freddie’s daughter if she existed.
When Volkov came back, his face was grim. He posted Ian outside the room with instructions to keep everyone else out, then closed the door.
“What did you find?” Craig asked.
“Nothing much. The ground had been disturbed where Xavier woke up, like someone had cleared away the debris to form a circle,” Volkov said. “But that’s not what we need to discuss. Aleksei just called.” He leveled his stare at me. “Naomi is dead.”
I sat on the couch in shock. Naomi hadn’t exactly been a spring chicken, but judging from Volkov’s demeanor, she hadn’t died of natural causes. “What happened?”
Volkov glanced at Craig as if asking how he should field my question.
“How did she die?” I demanded, not appreciating the attempt at shielding me.
“Strangulation.” He looked at Craig again, but at least he’d answered. “The attacker used piano wire.”
“A professional, then.”
Volkov nodded, his face grim.
“I’m assuming they didn’t catch the attacker?” Craig asked.
“No.”
“How is that even possible?” I asked. “The Compound has more security than Fort Knox. How on earth could someone get in, kill Naomi, and then escape undetected?”
“I don’t know.” Volkov sounded as frustrated as I felt.
I dropped my head into my hands when I realized why both men were watching so studiously for my reaction. “That’s why the witch killer left the page with the spell. The killer knew Naomi had been in possession of Samara’s grimoire, so the witch killer left the page knowing we’d connect it to Naomi.” I forced myself to lift my head and look at them, my voice rough with guilt. “We led the killer right to her. If we hadn’t gone to see her, the wards on the Compound would have prevented the killer from ever finding her.” There was no love lost between Naomi and me after what she’d done, but I still hated that I’d played a part in her death.
Craig dropped a comforting hand on my shoulder, but I brushed him off. I didn’t want comfort at the moment. I wanted to catch the witch killer before someone else ended up dead.
CHAPTER 21
It didn’t take long for the Tribunal to call one of their emergency meetings. I wondered if they even had a normal meeting schedule. They certainly didn’t keep minutes or take public comments, so I couldn’t really see them bound by anything so mundane as regular meeting times. I received the official invitation the same way it always came—Craig showing up on my doorstep.
“Is this about Naomi’s murder?” I asked as I buckled my seatbelt.
Craig started his pickup. “Partially. Volkov wants everyone to be up to speed on the investigation.”
“And the other reason?”
When Craig didn’t answer right away, I let my head hit the headrest, knowing I wasn’t going to like whatever it was.
“Durrand’s replacement has been chosen.”
Lucky me. Another vampire. I would get a front-row seat to the introductions. Lucian Durrand’s seat on the Tribunal had been vacant since Craig had killed him for attacking me. What are the chances the next vampire on the Tribunal is an upgrade?
“Please tell me this one is dark and broody and sparkles in the sunlight.”
Craig looked at me in confusion.
“Never mind,” I mumbled. Craig didn’t get a lot of the pop culture references I handed out like candy. I’d have to work on that. Maybe I needed to invite him to movie night sometime. Seeing how much of the truck cab he filled up with his size, I’d probably have to get a bigger couch if he and my new neighbor showed up on the same night.
“What do you know about Durrand’s replacement?” I asked.
Craig merged onto the interstate, leaving the industrial West Bottoms behind for the decidedly more bougie neighborhood where Volkov lived. “Next to nothing. All I know is his name and that he’s showing up today to meet the rest of the Tribunal.” Craig didn’t volunteer the name, but from his sudden tension, he was concerned about something.
“What is his name?”
“Garadin Aldea.”
He was a stranger then because his was a name I’d remember. “What an unusual name.”
Craig’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “It’s Romanian.”
I jerked my head to stare at him. “Why would a Romanian be appointed to a Tribunal in the middle of the US?” The longer Craig took to answer, the more nervous I got.
“I don’t know, but we suspect Wallace Ratcliff personally selected Aldea.”
“Shit.” Given my last run-in with the master vampire, that couldn’t be good.
“Ratcliff probably wants eyes on you.” Even though Craig tried to reassure me, the grip he kept on the steering wheel spoke volumes.
“Maybe. Or he wants someone loyal to him on the Tribunal to run interference in the investigation into the witch killings.”
From the set of his jaw, Craig had already thought of that possibility. He parked in front of Volkov’s house, and I tried to push aside my growing unease as I walked up the long drive.
We arrived a few minutes early, with Meira and Celeste close on our heels. I hadn’t seen Celeste in person since she’d warded my place after my run-in with Zepar. Today, she had on a gorgeous tangerine dress worn toga-style with an antique broach at her shoulder. After complimenting her fashion sense—something I rarely did with this neutral-obsessed crowd—we filed somberly inside, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
“In here.” Volkov directed us to the library like we didn’t all know that’s where we’d end up.
“Are we still waiting on the vampire?” Celeste asked with mild curiosity.
Volkov’s lips thinned. “He arrived half an hour ago.” With Max Volkov, the only thing he hated more than being kept waiting was someone showing up early and forcing him to entertain. He was far from a gracious host, but werewolves weren’t known for their welcoming natures.
The vampire in question stood at the front window, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed outside and ignored us as we filed into the room. The man was dressed impeccably in a dove gray suit and was shorter and far stockier than Durrand had been. He didn’t turn around immediately to greet us. Both Meira and Celeste frowned at the slight.
Volkov cleared his throat. “Now that we’re all here—”
“Introductions are in order,” the vampire cut in. Still, he didn’t turn around. I’d costumed enough actors to know a drama queen when I met one. With Volkov’s short temper and Meira’s sense of decorum, the combination should be interesting at least. I was imagining the fireworks when Garadin Aldea finally turned around.
I swayed, and Meira reached out to steady me, concern etched on her face. “Kali, what’s wrong?”
Everyone’s eyes turned to me, but all I could see was Aldea’s smug face. I stepped closer, stopping with only a few feet separating us. When my knees trembled, I braced myself on Volkov’s desk to keep them from buckling.
“Are you okay, child? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” While he sounded sincere, the mocking tilt of Aldea’s lips said otherwise.
I kept my gaze locked on his face as I went for the letter opener on Volkov’s desk. Before anyone had an inkling what I was doing, I buried it hilt deep in the side of the vampire’s neck. I reveled in his momentary shock and welcomed the rage that overtook him next. I could hear the others shouting, demanding I stop. It was all background noise to me. I gripped the letter opener in my fist, working to widen the wound by sawing it back and forth even as his hand closed around my throat, the other going for my makeshift weapon. Aldea’s blood coated my fingers, making the handle slick, but I held tight.
Before I could yank it out and bury it in his neck again, Aldea threw me across the room. I landed on the corner of Volkov’s desk, the wind momentarily knocked out of me. I reached for the magic in my tattoo and drew its power into my body. When I staggered to my feet, the pain dulled to an ache, and I lunged for Aldea again.
He held his arms out wide and laughed, the blood still trickling down his throat. “Come on then, little girl.”
I swung a right hook at Aldea’s face to draw his attention and grabbed a fistful of the family jewels with my left, giving them a brutal twist before strong arms pulled me off him. I didn’t care whose arms they were, only that they were holding me back. I fought with my whole body, all flailing limbs and blunt teeth.
Craig stepped in front of me, temporarily blocking my view of Aldea. “Kali, stop.” He nodded sharply at Volkov, who was struggling to contain my thrashing body.
I was long past any of the moves I’d learned in Krav Maga. I was fighting on instinct alone, the wild desperation of being within striking distance of my sister’s killer lending strength to my attack. For a second, I broke loose, but Volkov grabbed me around the waist and yanked me back. I threw my head back, not caring if I broke his nose as long as it got me free.
Before I could do more damage, Craig grabbed both of my arms. He pinned them to my sides, then he nodded for Volkov to release me. Craig spun me around faster than I could react, wrapping me in a bear hug. “Get him the fuck out of here,” he ordered.
As Volkov ushered Aldea out of the library, I took great pleasure in the blood staining the pristine white of his dress shirt and the letter opener he had to pry from his neck. I bared my teeth at him, the power surging through my crow tattoo firing my veins.
Aldea stared at me as Volkov pushed him out of the room, leaving me with a parting shot. “Master Ratcliff sends his regards.”
“Kail, you have to stop,” Craig said, still holding me immobile like he feared I’d go back for round two as soon as he let go. He wasn’t wrong. Out of everyone in this room, he was the only one I’d shown my grandmother’s photo. He was the only one who recognized Aldea’s face, and yet, he held me back.
When Volkov returned moments later, he was alone.
“Where is he?” I demanded.
“Gone.” Volkov shook his head, frowning. “You can’t stab people in the middle of a Tribunal meeting.” For once, Volkov was the voice of calm while someone else raged.
Even with Aldea gone, it took a minute before the bloodlust cleared enough for me to speak coherently. “He’s not people,” I snapped. “It’s him.”
“Who?” Meira asked.
My throat closed, and I couldn’t force the words out as I replayed the last time I’d seen Aldea’s face and every time after when he’d come back to haunt my dreams. “Aldea is the man who killed my sister.”
Meira gasped and took a step back, her gaze searching the door for any sign of him. “How could you know that?”
I bit my lip and struggled to get my ragged breathing under control. “Because Zepar showed me his face.”
The room went quiet.
“Kali,” Celeste soothed. “Zepar was a demon. He could have shown you anyone’s face.”
“No.” I leaned as close as I could get to her with Craig still pinning my arms against my body. “That man killed Claire. She showed me his face long before Zepar did.”
Volkov tilted his head toward the door. “Take her home, throw her in a cold shower or something until she cools off.” He leaned down until he was even with my face, so I was forced to look at him. “A vision from a demon is not evidence. If,” Volkov emphasized the word, “he killed her, then it will be handled by this Tribunal. Do not go after him again, or there will be consequences.”
If I managed to kill Aldea, I wouldn’t care about his consequences. Volkov straightened and moved away from me.
“And this incident?” Meira asked.
Volkov shrugged. “A wound like that is barely more than a paper cut to a vampire. As far as I’m concerned, no harm, no foul.”
“Agreed,” Celeste and Meira said in concert.
I was quiet on the drive home, busy planning all the ways I could take Aldea’s head.
When we got to my apartment, I took Volkov’s advice and took a cold shower, but it did little to cool the rage heating my blood. After ten minutes of shivering, I gave up and got out. Once I was dressed, I went to the living room where Craig was camped out. Whether he was acting as babysitter or bodyguard, he was adamant about not leaving me on my own. Aldea owed him a thank-you card for that.
Craig was on the phone when I got back. “You’re positive?” he asked whoever he was talking to. “Do you have a location?”
I kept one ear on the conversation as I climbed on a chair to reach my liquor cabinet above the refrigerator, grabbing the new bottle of tequila. Resisting the urge to drink straight from the bottle, I pulled a couple of small glasses out of the cabinet and assembled our shots. After adding salt and lime, I carried them out to Craig. He hung up the phone as I came in the room and accepted one of the shots without comment, throwing it back at the same time I did mine.
I sat beside him, looking at his phone on the coffee table. “Who was that?”
“Volkov.” Craig held out his shot glass. “Do you have more tequila?”
I poured him another shot and waited for the bomb he was about to drop. He didn’t disappoint.
“Volkov did some checking. It seems Aldea has been in Kansas City longer than we knew.”
The blood drained from my face at the thought of him being here so long. Have I crossed paths with him? Did he watch me now like he’d watched Claire and me as teenagers? “How long?” I asked.
“He signed a lease three months ago for a luxury condo. According to his neighbors, he moved in a couple months ago.” Craig watched closely for my reaction.
I gripped the arm of the couch to steady myself. “You know where he lives?”
He stiffened. “I do, but it’s not information I’ll be sharing with you, for obvious reasons.”
I ground my teeth in frustration. “Then why are you telling me this?” I asked, knowing the second he left, I’d be making a list of every luxury rental in the city limits. I might even call Jack Gates to help me track the guy down. Jack might be dead, but he was the best investigative reporter I knew.
I may have waited a decade to bring this man to justice, but now he was tauntingly close. The need to end him beat like a drum inside my head.
Craig turned me to face him, waiting until some of the fight left my body. “Set aside your sister’s death for a second.” When I reared back to object, he tugged me closer. “For the sake of this conversation,” he clarified.
I nodded.
“Consider the timing. Aldea has been in Kansas City for a couple months—the same time frame as the witch murders. And he wasn’t appointed to the Tribunal until a few days ago, so why would he be here all this time?”
I stilled. “You think he’s the vampire working with the witch.”
“I do.”
“It makes sense,” I agreed. “No one has more to gain from a new army of super vampires than the master vampire himself. And Aldea is obviously Wallace Ratcliff’s lackey, as the appointment to the Tribunal demonstrates. It makes sense he’d put Aldea in charge of turning new vamps.” I let out a heavy breath. I’d rather end Aldea now than do whatever Craig was about to propose. “What’s your plan?”
“I know you want Aldea to pay for what he took from you.” Craig avoided saying Claire’s name, probably afraid it would set me off again. “But this is our best shot at justice. If we can nail him for the witch murders, he’ll get a death sentence, and we protect the rest of the fire elementals in the process.”
I thought of the two who had sought sanctuary here in KC and the countless other fire elementals who had to constantly live in fear that they would be next. They deserved to be able to rest, knowing the killer was no longer a threat to them.
Craig saw my hesitation. “As long as he ends up dead, does it really matter if it’s on Claire’s behalf or Fiona’s?”
He was right. Anne and Fiona deserved justice as much as Claire did. Even if I could take out Aldea on my own—and I was more than willing to die trying—killing him now would leave the identity of the witch killer a mere theory.
“You’re right,” I finally conceded. “What do we need to do?”
CHAPTER 22
Craig and I camped out on the couch in my apartment with the bottle of tequila and a legal pad to come up with a workable trap to draw out the witch killer. The plan wouldn’t without risks, but with the bodies piling up and bloodlust riding me, they were necessary risks.
“Who serves as bait?” I asked.
“It would have to be one of the fire elementals,” Craig said.
I wondered if either of them would sign on for something so dangerous. They’d come to Kansas City for safety. Volunteering to be bait for a witch serial killer was the opposite of safe.
“Do you think either of them would do it?” Forcing them into a dangerous situation like that without their full consent was out of the question.
Craig looked thoughtful. “Xavier might.”
“Yeah, but Xavier wouldn’t make good bait. He’s already fought off an attempt to take him. Olivia is the obvious choice.” Olivia might be a powerful fire elemental, but she had easy target stamped all over her. From her slight stature to her timid personality, she’d be like catnip for our witch killers.
“I know.” Craig rubbed his jaw, not liking the option even if she was the logical choice.
