Mixed Blessing (Mixed Blessing Mystery, Book 1) (22 page)

He nodded slowly and walked toward the table, taking a seat to one side. I took this as a positive sign and grabbed a seat opposite him. We had the table between us, it felt like a chasm I'd have to yell over to be heard.

"How can I be sure you won't influence me or my investigating officers, like you did that delivery guy?"

This was the moment of truth and I decided I wanted it to be truthful. For this to work, Mark needed to be able to trust me - and I him.

"I can't glaze you - influence you with my eyes. You're immune for some reason. My boss couldn't glaze you either. You've got some sort of natural resistance to vampire influence - a good thing."

He cocked his head. "You've tried to influence me?" I nodded. He frowned. "Who is your boss?"

I let a long breath out. "If we do this, it's between you and me. I can't divulge who he is. As it is, I am breaking our rules by discussing who I am with you, but to involve him would mean my head."

"Your head?" he asked, looking appalled.

I smiled. "I live in a different world than you, Mark. Our worlds just cross over from time to time."

He took that in for a moment, then asked, "What about my colleagues? Can you influence them?"

"Yes," I answered. I was unsure if any of them had a natural resistance such as Mark's, but I doubted it. He needed to know it was possible. "My suggestion is that we keep any cooperation between us, between only us. I keep away from your colleagues, you keep away from mine. Fair?"

He didn't answer or acknowledge that, just sat contemplatively for a while.

"What can you do to help?" There was a desperation on the edge of that statement. Mark was at the end of his tether as far as these cases went. No doubt copping a shit-load of heat from above and then his own personal demons on top of that. People were still dying and he was no closer to solving these crimes.

"I know the murderer isn't human." He nodded, I'd already confirmed that. "I can track them to a certain extent. I can certainly identify them should I come across them at all. I can answer any questions you have regarding my world and how it affects yours - within reason," I added. "I have contacts in various supernatural communities and therefore access to information you could never hope to have alone." His eyebrows raised when I said
various supernatural communities
. I'd hinted at more than vampires existing, but as yet not divulged what else was out there, I could tell he was curious. "I know the murders are related to SubZero's Vive La Vodka." He looked surprised at that, but I couldn't tell if it was at the fact I had concluded this, or that Vive La Vodka could be connected at all. I continued to lay my cards on the table. "I know the murderer and Alison had an intimate relationship of some description." Now he was sitting upright in his chair staring at me with open interest. "I know she desired him and feared him in equal measure. And I know he was amused and angry when he performed the kills." He did look a little shocked at that, probably from my terminology - it was very vampire - or maybe from the emotions I had detected. Who knew.

I took a deep breath in. "I know what the marks on the body represent." His jaw dropped and then he sat back in the chair with a loud thud.

"Fuck," he said, surprising me. I hadn't expected to hear him swear. Somehow my image of Mark Anderson did not include coarse language. Another hand roughly pushed though his hair and then he was standing and pacing across the far end of the room.

"The guy we're holding could have done the first murder, but not the rest." I sat back in my own chair and effected an air of casual interest. "We contemplated a copy-cat, even though there is just too much similarity between each murder to conclude anything but someone who was present at the first. Of course, maybe an accomplice could explain that away, but even so, I've doubted the guy we're holding. Although his alibi sucks, I just have a gut feeling he's clean. But our instructions have come from the top, Gigi." He looked at me then, a piercing look I wasn't sure how to take. "And I mean the top of the top. Not just our DI, or our chief, but the powers that be in Wellington." He meant the Government, the Ministry that headed up the police. I waited on baited breath for his next revelation. "We know they are connected to SubZero. All the vics have at some time or other been involved in market research. The company pulls them in off the street to test new products, some of them had tested several, some just the one. But they all tested Vive La Vodka." I blinked slowly as he watched for my reaction. "What do you know about this drink?" he demanded, but it wasn't in a way I could take offence. He wanted to share information. I relaxed slightly at having passed the first hurdle. It didn't mean he'd work with me in the long term, but for now this was more than I had even hoped.

"From a bartender's perspective, it's popular. Almost addictive. Norms... humans," I corrected, "can't help having more than one. For me it smells like peaches and cream, but it's promoted to contain a
combination of roses, apples and something SubZero says is life boosting." I looked him directly in the eyes as I said the next bit. "There's something hinky about it."

"Hinky?" he said. "I can't really work with hinky, Gigs." I smiled back at him.

"Call it a gut instinct, I'm sure you're aware of those." He nodded in reply, a small smile appearing at the edges of his lips. The first indication of him relaxing in my presence since he left the apartment earlier.

"All right, hinky," he said with a firmer voice. "So, this is tied to SubZero and in particular Vive La Vodka, which - we'll say for now - has an unusual effect on consumers, causing them to be compelled to buy more and more. Maybe this is just some elaborate marketing plan." His eyes returned to my face. "On a supernatural scale. Is that even possible?"

I shrugged. If vampires, fairies, Taniwha shape shifters and ghouls are possible, then hell yes. But I had no idea how. Could vampires do this? I supposed with the ability to influence people using
Sanguis Vitam
you could be forgiven for thinking a vampire could use that same power to influence an inanimate object. I mean some vampires can move things, telekinesis isn't that rare, and Jett had fixed my broken front door with little more than a thought and a smattering of his life force, but I had never heard of a drink having magical powers before. I'd have to check up on it. Maybe Lucinda would know. Or Samson. I ignored the small thrill that raced through me at the thought of having an excuse to contact him again. Then I trampled it under my mental booted foot. Pathetic.

Then of course there was the fairy aspect. I decided that if I still considered a fairy capable of this murder, and I admit they were more than capable of making a drink become addictive to Norms, then I'd have to let Mark in on the whole fairy-next-door secret. My stomach churned at the dangerous path I had chosen to tread. Not only disobeying fundamental Nosferatu laws, but also possibly bringing myself under the attack of fairies such as Aliath. The Grey Lord would no doubt have something to say if he knew I was about to break his secrecy in our world.

"It's possible, but I don't know how. I'm going to have to ask a few people, but you should know something." He nodded, encouraging me to go on. "I suspect either vampire or fairy for these murders. I've narrowed it down to those two supernaturals. So, I guess, what I'm trying to tell you is, fairies exist as well."

"Fuck," Mark muttered, running a hand through his thoroughly roughed up hair. It kind of looked cute, if not for the wide eyes and blanched hue to his skin. He was going into shock, I was sure. TMI. It had a tendency to make a grown man pass out.

"Breathe," I instructed from where I sat. Approaching the panicking police detective was not a good idea. He gulped in air and hung his head between his knees on the chair he was now sitting on. Colour began to return to his face. "Good man," I said, encouragingly. "You need to know how sensitive this information is." I felt cruel harping on about this right now when he was recovering from overload, but it had to be said. "Besides the fact that no one in the supernatural community would back you on this, none of your colleagues would either. So, really it means this is better kept between you and me."

"That sucks," he said raising his head, the lights in the room catching the sheen of sweat across his forehead.

"Story of my life," I replied. "I know this will be frustrating for you, but the bottom line is you don't have a chance in hell of solving this crime without some inside help. Inside meaning someone who understands the supernatural community. And," I reluctantly admitted, "if this is happening even once, we can assume it could happen again. My world crossing into yours."

"Fuck," he added, showing an increasing attachment to the four letter word.

"I want this murderer stopped, Mark. I want to offer you, personally, my help. I know there are provisos attached, and you must accept them, but I am certain I can be of some assistance. Our goals are aligned. The outcome can only benefit both our kinds." Oh hell, when had I accepted I was no longer human? I blinked rapidly to ward off the tears at that thought.

He took a deep breath in and then sighed, it sounded defeated. I didn't need to scent the emotion to know it was there. Only a small part of me felt guilt at having made him experience that emotion. There was too much at stake to feel regret at having approached Mark at all. I was at a loss on where to go from here to solve these murders and get Stu off the charges. I'd hit a brick wall time and time again. I had determined some things, but failed to find new information in obvious places; the security cameras came up blank, the diary was all but a loose end. The murder victims told me nothing new, and what I had uncovered was not immediately obvious. More deaths would come, I knew that much. The police held the wrong man behind bars. This was all good information, but didn't solve the crime.

The level of my own danger had risen and if there is one thing I had learned in the short amount of time since I was turned, it was to survive at all costs. To survive this I needed to push boundaries, the rules.

Sitting here opposite a human I thought I could trust, but wasn't sure, I knew I was pushing the boundaries and then some. But what choice did I have? This had to stop, before I got too far down this dangerous path. Once it stopped and Stu was free, I could leave. Could get myself to safety. And the sooner I do that, the better, as far as I was concerned.

"So?" I asked, crossing my legs and holding Mark's gaze. "Do we have an agreement? I help you and you let me in on this case?"

He didn't say anything for several seconds, I allowed myself an inhale of the air between us. Bitter-sweet dark chocolate that made my fangs itch to flick out, but it wasn't fear of me. I could tell and that somehow made it better. It was fear of taking this step into the unknown. I knew that type of fear, I was intimately acquainted with it. Calming chamomile tea wafted into the space before me. My compassion for the man who held my gaze.

I did feel sorry to be dragging him into my world, but he was a cop and it was his job to solve these cases and without me he had no hope. We needed each other, and I think he knew that too.

"OK," he said, resolutely. "We have an agreement."

I relaxed and let an unneeded breath of air out to celebrate, then had to suck it in again when Mark added, "But if you harm anyone, influence or otherwise misdirect this investigation,
I
will have your head."

And I knew instinctively he wasn't speaking metaphorically.

Detective Mark Anderson had balls.

My Dark Shadow smiled slowly in appreciation. I just nodded once in understanding, feeling a little bereft.

"I'm not sure that speaking to him will help out, Gigi," Mark said as he led me down another internal corridor of the Central Police station. This time we were heading to his office to complete paperwork, he had said. For the life of me I had no idea why paperwork would be needed at all, it's not as if he could sign me up as a supernatural liaison.

"I won't know until I talk to him, Mark," I replied. "But I can detect things you can't, at least we'd know one way or the other how much he is involved." For me there was no question; Stu was
not
involved, but I'd be a lax investigator if I didn't use my talents to confirm that. It went against every ounce of loyalty I had for my best friend's cousin. But, it needed to be done.

Mark stopped outside the door to an office, we were now in a large room with multiple desks in an open format. Several desks were empty, but some were attended by plain clothed cops. Talking, working, on the phone and watching Mark and me with mild curiosity. Mark nodded to a couple, but just held the door to his office open and indicated for me to go inside. I preceded him into the room.

A glass wall separated his office with the open spaced area, there was no covering, no shades to turn down for privacy. Mark clearly went for openness in his workplace. Whatever we did could be seen by his team on the other side of the glass wall. I just hoped whatever we said was private. I took the seat he pointed to, as he rounded his cluttered desk and sat down with a sigh.

He looked terrible, if I was honest. Even more tired than when I had first arrived. I felt a twinge of worry for him. Was he even eating? I let my gaze wash over him as he cleared some space on top of his desk and thumbed through a drawer beneath, finally finding what he was looking for and placing it on the surface between us.

"This is a contract to work with the Police Department. We often employ consultants, for various reasons and expertise. I'm going to sign you up as a psychic advisor." I raised my eyebrows at him. He shrugged. "There's no other category that would apply and we use psychics more and more for murder cases, especially cases we don't seem to be making headway on." He began filling out a few lines on the form and then spun it back toward me to sign.

I took the offered pen and signed where indicated, not bothering to read the fine print. He'd give me a copy and really, did it matter? I needed in on this investigation, this was the only way.

Mark proceeded to separate the sheets and folded one to hand to me. "Read the terms and conditions. You'll be reporting to me, at my request. I'll attach a note to these cases saying you've been hired. Your capacity as consultant will be to advise on possible future victims. That's the official explanation. You talk to no one but me. I will field any internal queries. As far as the team will be concerned, I've used you in an unofficial capacity before. This will explain how you've gained access to a top case without prior connection to the department."

"How far can I get with this?" I asked holding up the slip of paper.

"Not far," Mark said piercing me with his gaze. "You enter crime scenes at my invitation only. You read case files unofficially. You can only interview suspects with me in attendance. You do not have carte blanche to wander around this station or appear at scenes before I have confirmed your attendance."

This was all said in a low growl. My Dark Shadow approved. Mark took his responsibilities seriously. He may have been at his wit's end with this case and had nowhere to go but let me in, but that didn't mean he wasn't the man in charge. And was determined to make sure I knew it. I felt a little saddened that his tone was so brisk and formal. I understood he was a cop first and foremost, but the man had been interested in me at one stage too, I was sure. But now, any personal interest he'd shown, had been lost in amongst the discovery of what I am. If a part of me had hoped Mark would accept the new me as easily as Kara had, it was sorely disappointed now.

Mark was prepared to use me to solve this crime and I had the feeling that I would be discarded easily once it was all done and dusted. I quelled the disappointment and rejection I felt at that thought. I just had to be glad to have access to the case, because all that really mattered was getting Stu off and then getting out of Auckland City.

I cleared my throat. "So, when can I see Stu?"

Mark's gaze came up abruptly to look at me. "Stu? You know the accused?"

Ah, fuck-a-duck. I met his gaze with determination of my own. "Why do you think I am showing such personal interest?" I threw back at him.

"That's a conflict, Georgia. You could be biased." He sat up straighter in his chair.

"And you could be imprisoning the wrong man and have another death, probably two, by this time tomorrow, if you don't let me help."

We held each other's gaze for several seconds, neither willing to back down. It was Mark who finally sighed and ran a hand through his short hair.

"OK," he conceded and looked at his watch. "It'll have to be tomorrow, it will take time to arrange."

I was going to argue, we didn't have time to muck about, but at that moment I felt a pull. A very much unwanted and dreaded pull. The Nosferatin side of me had woken up after days of slumber. A vampire was hunting indiscriminately in the city and my hunter side wanted in on the fun. I could have left it to Lucinda to deal with, but then I would have suffered for my neglect. I may not have wanted to be a vampire, but that wasn't all that I was. I was also part hunter and as such, I had a job to do.

It should have been a no-brainer. Hunting was on the side of good, the side of my Light. The side I usually wanted to embrace, lest I forget who and what I am. But I had been playing with my Dark Shadow more and more recently, and the normal tug of my conscience was not as strong as it once was. Still, the night was drawing to a close and visiting Mt Eden Prison tonight would have been cutting it pretty fine as it was.

Mark saw me out, having taken a photo and sent my picture off to the front desk earlier, he handed me a laminated ID card when we reached the reception area, which clearly stated Police Consultant next to my name. I felt a thrill of excitement go through me. Stupid. It was only a card, but it represented in a small way, my acceptance. For some reason that meant more to me than it should have.

"I'll be in touch with a time tomorrow evening," Mark said as I inched towards the front door. The pull was getting stronger. My Dark Shadow had already retreated, not wanting to bear witness to my Light-filled side. I was grateful for the reprieve, the further she disappeared, the stronger my desire to stop evil. "We also need to discuss those marks."

I nodded, not really wanting to get into that right now.

"Email me with what you know and I'll look over it before we meet tomorrow."

I smiled briefly and pushed through the door, noting his puzzled expression at my hasty retreat. I didn't have time to reassure him, the pull had intensified to an alarming degree.

Out on the street I allowed myself a deep breath in of the early morning air. The sun was still over an hour away, but my vampire-within was aware. For now though, she let me have control of my impulses. And those impulses were set to hunt. I followed the pull like being drawn by a magnet, an irresistible attraction I had no hope now of denying. I
had
to confront the vampire who threatened to kill. I
had
to protect the innocent. This was the part of me I normally relished. The one side of what made being a Nothus remotely bearable. Lucinda had been born a vampire hunter, I had been created by her goddess. We were equally compelled to answer that pull. She would almost be there, but the competitor in me wanted to reach the goal first.

I put a burst of vampire speed on, wrapping the shadows around me and hiding from sight. Within seconds I'd made it to the scene of the hunt. I slowed as I approached, ensuring no sound was made as I slid through the shadows in the alley the vampire was in. I could smell freshly spilled blood, not entirely unusual, the vampire wanted to feed, but normally I'd reach them before they put fang to neck. This time though I was obviously late.

The blood made my Dark Shadow stir, but my Light was too close to the surface now for her to gain any leverage over me. I was entirely focused on hunting, my Nosferatin side at the fore. I came to rest directly behind the vampire, my stake already in my palm. His dishevelled hair and tattered clothing confirming his status as Rogue. A vampire unrestrained by Nosferatu rules, undisciplined, bloodthirsty, uncontrolled. He'd have no master or mistress, he'd most probably be nowhere near master level himself. I wasn't concerned with any of that, all that mattered was the human he held in his dirt stained hands, beneath his blood encrusted lips.

I raised my stake ready to bring him the final death. No feeling of regret or guilt at ending the life of a sentient being. He'd forgone his sentience when he chose this path; to hunt indiscriminately without pause. Tonight I'd wage the war against the Dark, tonight I would do something to tip my scales towards the Light.

It would feel good to stake him. To save an innocent life. To be something other than the vampire half within.

My stake met the thin material of his shirt, the silver tip a fraction into skin. Then a lancing pain sliced through my skull, an awareness of something important, something monumental, something relevant swam before my eyes. I tried to grasp its meaning, to protect myself against the mental assault. But he was so strong, stronger than me, there was nothing I could do to stop him and I knew instinctively he wanted me dead.

I'd interrupted his meal, I'd threatened his life. All of which had failed. He still fed, he still lived. But he was determined to make me pay for my mistake. I vaguely realised I was on the concrete pavement, having landed hard on my knees. My stake was rolling away towards the gutter, the silver glinting as I hazily tracked its progress across the path. I had stopped breathing, my heart had ceased to beat. My eyes had bled to red, the Dark Shadow awake and battling as hard as me to fight the compulsion to give in.

He wanted me to capitulate, he wanted me to give up. But he didn't know me well. If I had been a quitter, I would have found a way to end my life once I had been turned. But I hadn't. I had kept going, resenting what I had become, hating the life I now had to live. But never,
ever
, giving in to it. And I wouldn't give in now.

I growled low, hissed through my lips and bared my fangs. And all I could hear was his laughter. Which made me realise he'd either stopped feeding off the human or was laughing in my head. I hoped it was the first, the human saved at least for now, but I had a terrible feeling it was the second. He was already controlling me, having made me drop my stake, laughing in my head would have been a breeze.

I felt the coolness of the pavement against my cheek, making me acknowledge I was now on my side, no longer upright. I could feel little pebbles or grit against my skin. Smell the tar-like scent of the nearby roadway, the dirt and decay at the edges of the street. Street cleaners don't get everything, there is always something to rot left behind when they sweep the streets. I could smell it all and its death heralded mine.

I felt a coolness against the skin on my chest, a bubble of fear filling the cavity inside just as chilling as the night air on my naked flesh. He'd ripped my top, maybe even removed it, I couldn't tell. It had been a while since I had felt this kind of fear, a human fear of being harmed in such a way. I felt it the night the Rogue attacked me, at the time I had thought he'd intended me a different kind of harm. Since becoming a vampire there has been little that has made me fear that same way. Oh, I have feared, but that fear has been of death or the threat of it. This was an altogether different type of fear, one I had thought lost to me when I became so strong.

What did he intend to do? He was a vampire, so my death was obvious, but how long it took to get there and what he did on the way, were not.

The first stab of pain hit me mid chest, on my sternum, between my breasts. In my fuzzy, fear-filled brain I thought he'd staked me, but I could still see the silver of my stake from the gutter's edge where it lay. Perhaps he had one of his own. It wouldn't be silver, not that that would kill me, but it felt sharp.

But that first stab of pain was quickly followed by another. This time slightly higher and to the right hand side. The two spots felt like molten liquid boring through me. I was sure a hole would appear at my back, directly beneath each one. But he didn't stop there. Another stab of pain slightly lower, further to the right, then another lower still, but closer to the centre. Four stabs, four sharp spikes of intense agony. Four lava filled holes boring right through my chest.

Tears had started to run down my cheeks, but no sound came from my opened mouth. I knew I was screaming, but the noise was contained within my mind, my ears picked up only the distant sounds of the city and the discarded human's pathetic attempts to flee.

I thought momentarily that the Rogue had stopped, relief coursed through me, but was quickly swallowed by further stabs of pain. Three more in quick succession. On the left side of my chest. Something was familiar about the placement of each horrendous stab of pain, but my brain was short circuiting and couldn't puzzle through the idea that this should all make some sort of sense.

I heard him shuffle beside me, his shadow adding to the dimness encroaching the sides of my vision. The pain was all consuming now, a raging inferno of agony that burned as brightly as a naked flame. Right across my upper torso. The lance of pain in my head he'd initially inflicted was minuscule in comparison to what he'd done to my chest.