Authors: Colleen Gleason
It wasn’t a question he could answer right now, so he shifted back to the runner and extended a hand down to her. She eyed it as though it would turn into a snake any second. “Come on. I haven’t got all night. Let’s get you out of here. You’re not dying on my watch.”
He didn’t kill women, at least not on purpose, and he definitely didn’t take out a woman with a belly full of child.
“I can’t move.” She tried to sit up, but flopped back in the dirt.
Whatever energy she’d possessed had been used up trying to scale the fairly steep side of the wash.
He dipped down and picked her up in his arms, cradling her. She weighed next to nothing. “What’s your name?”
“Tammy. Where are you taking me?”
“The clinic.”
She turned her face against his chest and damn him if she didn’t start weeping against his tank.
But as he rose into the air, he glanced once more at Iris. She had her pistol pointed at him, head bent slightly, probably checking her sights.
Though the clinic was the opposite direction, he flew toward her. She slowly lowered her gun.
By the time he reached the bridge, her eyes were wide, lips parted. “Officer Connor.”
“Officer Meldeere. What the fuck are you doing out here?” He might be obsessed with her and he’d definitely engaged in way too many fantasies about her, but she was still a witch with a gun.
“Got a call that some Border Patrol officer was out of control near Amado Bridge.”
“Do I look out of control?”
Her gaze fell to the woman. “No. You don’t.”
“Guess you won’t be shooting me, then.”
She shook her head. She looked amazing, a flush on her cheeks. Her eyes glittered as she stared at him.
If he didn’t know better …
Fuck this. He whipped around and flew swiftly toward the clinic. He had to find some damn way of getting Iris out of his head.
He just didn’t know how.
He also needed to find out who had sent Tammy drug-running in the western sector of his territory.
***
Iris holstered her Sig. Her arms and legs trembled but it wasn’t from fear. Damn Connor. He’d just proven himself all over again, helping a woman like that.
And she’d forgotten how blue his eyes were.
She could hardly breathe and all she’d done was look at him and exchange about a half-dozen words. He wore the usual black tank, so his tattoos stood out like beacons. He was heavily muscled like all the Border Patrol men. How many times had she wondered if both hands together would fit around one of his biceps?
Fortunately, now that he was no longer next to her, she could think again. She looked around. On Trib orders, she’d left her garden, her owl and the potions she needed to make to fill her orders, but for what? She didn’t get it. Why had Donaldson wanted her witnessing Connor’s supposed crime?
The situation was just weird enough to force her to ask the harder questions: Who had really sent her out to Amado Bridge? And if the purpose had been to kill Connor, then why? And why her?
She turned the key in her bike and revved up her Harley once more. She took off, loving the strong vibrations on her bottom as she swept onto the street, heading toward Del Muerto Bridge. Del Muerto was one of the main five bridges of her world and connected Crescent with the dead-talker province of Shadow Territory.
With her long hair in a ponytail, she let the night wind whip her up good. She only had to head over to the Tribunal building and fill out a report. Then she could return to her workroom.
In the meantime, she loved riding.
When she was well into the land of dead-talkers, whipping through some backstreets and racing over several smaller bridges, her com buzzed. She pressed her shoulder transmitter. “Meldeere.”
She heard Faith’s voice. “We’ve got a … out on Sentinel Bridge. The … Donal … wants you … now.”
She repressed a sigh. The Tribunal meant well, but dammit, couldn’t they invest in a decent com system? “Say again?”
After three more repeated requests, she finally got the gist. There was some kind of incident on Sentinel Bridge which connected Connor’s Territory and hers.
And once more, the chief wanted her out there. She almost asked Faith why, but figured she’d get the same response.
“On my way.”
“Say …” More static then a lot of broken up words.
Iris shut off her com with a heavy eye-roll and put on some speed.
“Well, Violet, what do you think?” She tended to talk to her sister when she was out on patrol.
But the spontaneous question, took her straight back to the wind that had blown through her workroom and hearing Violet’s voice in her head. Tears burned her eyes. Violet had been buried a long time ago, but for Iris, the memory was as sharp as yesterday.
Thinking about her sister, however, brought the past surging forward. Several months after their shared
alter,
Violet had gone to work at a sandwich shop in downtown Elegance. Without warning, she and a dozen other witches had been abducted by a number of drugged out vampires. They’d been hauled out to a place called No Man’s Land, also known as The Graveyard.
The vampires had been out of control and hyped up on blood flame. The witches’ hands had been bound to prevent the witch death touch. The women had been stabbed, choked, raped and drained to death.
The Tribunal investigation had gone on for years but died its own death some time later. It had been buried in the Trib’s paperwork morgue, no doubt at the request of one of the drug-lords.
No closure for nine years, just pain.
She traversed yet another small bridge, the bike thump-thumping at the entrance and exit.
The world of Five Bridges had about a hundred small bridges scattered throughout the ripped up territory of north-central Phoenix. Long ditches crisscrossed the land, a final containment solution to the ongoing drug and human trafficking problem that had accompanied the flame revolution. The thousands of ditches were as difficult to traverse as they were completely ineffective in stemming the export of flame drugs to the human world.
Many of the original homes in this part of Phoenix now served the citizens of Five Bridges. But at least half had been blasted away and the pits left to grow whatever the desert could manage. Or they’d been dozed out even more to create rows of ditches hard to navigate on foot. A lot of cactus took root in these places. Rattlesnakes and vermin set up camp in droves. Coyotes, too. More bridges were built, some as short as seven feet.
Five Bridges essentially had the look of a war zone, especially with barbed wire separating each of the five territories from each other as well as from Phoenix. There were a few beauty spots in some of the renovated areas or in backyards like her own. Otherwise, it was a place that looked like bombs were detonated on a regular basis and the rubble left to sprout any weed or grass that would survive without much water.
There were, however, five main bridges, hence the name for the cesspool she lived in. Sentinel was one of them, the bridge she was headed to now. It was the long, main bridge connecting Crescent with her witch world of Elegance. It also intersected with the human world as all five bridges did, in a T layout. It still amazed Iris that any human would want to come to Five Bridges. But then most who did were looking for drugs or sex, the latter the second most important source of revenue for the poorer residents.
Now there was an unspecified incident on Sentinel Bridge.
So much for being off duty.
***
At the clinic, Connor leaned over Tammy, who proved to be an un-
altered
human female, working the sex trade in Five Bridges. He was trying to catch her words. She mumbled a lot and slipped in and out of consciousness since she was still tangled up with blood flame.
“What were you doing out there, Tammy? I could tell you had no idea where you were going.”
“He told me to go out there or he’d kill me.”
“Who?”
“The man who gave me the drugs. I owed him.”
The baby was hooked up to a fetal heart monitor and its heart beat fast and steady. The nurse stood nearby and scowled. Working in a clinic like this, she’d no doubt seen it all. The baby, if it survived, would have to go through withdrawal.
“Tammy, focus. What did the man look like?”
She lifted a weak hand to her right shoulder. “Skull tattoo, here, the kind with the mouth wide open like it’s screaming.”
“Bald head with tats?”
“Yes. And a really big nose. And super tight pants.”
Connor held back a curse. He knew the small time player. His name was Gary Smith and he owned the House of Big Sex in Rotten Row. Connor and his crew called him Big Nuts because he wore tight pants to display an oversized scrotum, an unfortunate look on any man.
But why had the owner of a sex club sent a woman out in a fake runner jacket? What game was he playing at?
“You need to leave.” The nurse’s voice blasted through the room like it came out of a sawed off shotgun. “We’re going to put her under. There’s too much stress on her heart because of the drug. The baby’s at risk.”
Connor dipped his chin in response. He had what he needed anyway, the name of the man who’d set him up. He picked up the runner jacket loaded with nothing but fake bricks and vials, another indication someone was messing with him.
When he reached the admitting desk, he talked to a lovely vampire he knew well, a woman he’d slept with a few months ago. She’d already touched his hand a couple of times and had a look in her eye he knew well. His gaze slipped to her throat where she was not-so-subtly stroking her fingers over her vein.
Because of his constant lust for Iris, his groin lit up with sudden need. He almost asked where they could go to have a private chat.
But his com buzzed, the connection finally restored. He hit the button. “Connor.”
Lily’s voice came on. “How did things go out at Amado?”
He explained about the young woman and that he’d brought her to the clinic.
Lily was silent for a moment. “You know, you stand taller than every other man I know.” She cleared her voice and hurried on. “But I guess this is your lucky night. We’ve got an incident out at Sentinel Bridge. A homicide, and yes, Chief wants you out there, as well. Pronto.”
He never worked Sentinel either.
What the fuck was going on?
***
Iris stood over not one, but two bodies on Sentinel Bridge, a man and a woman. Over the years, she’d seen a lot of corpses, but nothing quite as bad as the cuts, bruises, and burns on this pair. She forced herself to swallow and keep swallowing.
Despite the extensive damage, she recognized the female. She knew her, though not well, a witch by the name of Sadie Thompson. Her throat had been cut, and except for the severe bruising, her skin was the color of white marble.
The man was a vampire, something she knew by instinct though on the surface he looked like all the men she knew, no matter the species. The
alter
had given her discernment as it did all Five Bridges citizens. She always knew what was what.
She had no idea who he was, though. His dark hair was fanned over the side of his face. He wore the leather pants the Border Patrol men wore, so there was a good chance he served on the Crescent force. He had burns all down his arms and chest, along with severe bruising, and enough cuts to finally bleed him out.
Her stomach knotted up. She had to look away, regroup.
She focused on the tri-part bridge itself and each of three sets of entrance-exist gates. A ‘T’ formation occurred in the center of the bridge and led to east Phoenix. This part was guarded by the US Border Patrol. The main bridge itself served to connect Elegance Territory with Crescent.
Witches and wizards lived in Elegance exclusively. Vampires in Crescent.
Right now, Sentinel Bridge looked like something out of a movie, with a dozen cop cars lit up, lights flashing at all three control points. The closest vehicle was maybe forty yards away.
But why had Donaldson wanted her out here? What possible good could come from her presence? She was only sent to witness a case like this, make a report, and offer suggestions about follow-up, most of which would never be acted on. One of the Border Patrol stations would handle the case itself. She had no significant role, except possibly in identifying the Elegance victim.
She stood alone in the center of the bridge, her bike a few yards away. She’d already spoken with the Elegance Border Patrol officers who’d been directed to wait for her, but at a serious distance. According to them, the vampires were sending a man in to have a look.
She put a hand to her chest and walked in a slow circle. In the distance, she caught sight of a Crescent officer levitating above the flashing police cars. He was heading in the direction of the crime scene.
Now she’d have to deal with a macho vampire, who’d no doubt give her grief because she was a witch.
Returning to the two victims, she set her gaze on the dead vampire. He was bare-chested and like most BP officers, had lots of tattoos. He was lean and heavily muscled. His pants were cut up badly in a number of places.
She had so many questions. Why were the two of them placed here? Were they involved in some way? And how the hell could any of the drug lords orchestrate this kind of closing of Sentinel in order to put the couple in position? The Tribunal had charge of the five major bridges.
From her peripheral, she saw the vampire land. She turned toward him and lost the ability to breathe all over again. “Connor.”
Holy shit, the second time tonight. The third if she counted his hovering above her house. But why was he out here now?
“Iris.” He’d never looked more startled as he stared at her. “You were called to Sentinel?
You
specifically?”
“I was. And you?”
He nodded.
Her mind spun. “Is Sentinel part of the territory you usually cover?”
“Nope.” He was scowling hard.
“I wasn’t even supposed to be on duty tonight.”
He shook his head. “Why are either of us here? This makes no sense.”
“I totally agree with you.”