Soul Sucker (7 page)

“You were at college with Ella as well?”

Laney wrapped an arm around Ella’s shoulders. “Yes, sir. Best friends forever.”

Ella frowned as a faint hint of silver glimmered around Alexei’s head. “Hey, put that away, this is off the record.”

Alexei grinned at her. “Sorry, it wasn’t intentional. Sometimes I swear that Fae-Web has a mind of its own. Would you both like another drink?”

Ella checked her cell. “Sure, just one more and then I’ll have to run, if I want to catch the last ferry.”

“You don’t live in the city?”

“No, I live in Tiburon on the other side of the bay. It’s a lot quieter there, especially when the tourists all leave.”

“And I live in Walnut Creek, so I can get the BART home,” Laney chimed in. Ella was pleased to see that she looked far more relaxed. “So don’t worry about us drinking and driving, unless one of us suddenly decides to highjack the ferry or the train.” Laney winked at Ella. “Hell, we are getting close to
that
birthday, we’re supposed to do crazy stuff, right?”

Ella was about to reply when she noticed someone coming up behind Alexei. “Oh, look. It’s the lovely and charming Mr. Morosov.”

Alexei turned to stare at his colleague who was still immaculately attired in his suit. “I thought you were going to bed?”

“Then why did you text me?”

“Because I knew you would enjoy getting to know Ella in more relaxed surroundings.” Alexei snapped his fingers and another stool appeared. “What would you like to drink?”

To her annoyance, Vadim sat. “A glass of chilled chardonnay, thanks. Unfortunately, the shower I took woke me up when all I wanted was to crash.” He held out his hand to Laney. “How do you do. I’m Vadim Morosov.”

Laney, the traitor, shook Morosov’s hand and gave him the benefit of her dazzling smile. “I’m Laney, a friend of Ella’s. It’s nice to meet you. Are you still suffering from jet lag?”

“Yes.” Vadim’s answering smile made Ella blink. He never leered at her like that. He moved closer to Laney so that he didn’t have to shout. “I have no idea why it’s so bad this time.”

He smelled of some divinely masculine shower products that made Ella want to lean in and inhale him properly. She gripped her glass and finished her entire cocktail in one gulp. He didn’t deserve any more female attention than he was already getting. Three quarters of the bar were now staring at them, and she didn’t think they were looking at her—Laney maybe.

She checked her cell again and slid down from the high barstool. “I’m sorry, guys, I really need to go or I’ll miss the ferry.”

Laney jumped down too, then hugged her hard. “Thanks, sweetie. I’ll call you as soon as I get my first impression of the guy.”

“Sure.” Ella hugged her back. “Take care, hon.” She realized the Russians were both standing as well and she smiled at them. “Have a good evening.”

She turned for the door only to find Morosov following her out. She thought about pretending she hadn’t noticed him, but he was damn hard to ignore. He held the outer door open for her and glanced down at the top of her head.

“Do you mind if I walk with you? A bit of fresh air might help me sleep.”

She couldn’t think of a polite way to say no. “But you didn’t get your drink.”

“I’m sure it will be there when I get back, or more likely Alexei will drink it for me. He has an incredibly high tolerance for alcohol.”

Sometimes his English still sounded rather formal, but Ella was getting used to it. She set a fast pace down Market and kept her eyes on the Ferry building.

“I thought you would live in the city, Ms. Walsh.”

“Why’s that?”

He shrugged. “Because you seem the type.”

She kept her eyes on the sidewalk as if she was intent on avoiding the cracks. “Then you don’t know my type. Most empaths need their space, so we tend to choose quieter places to live.”

“Not all empaths.”

“I thought you didn’t like empaths, but you were all over Laney.”

“She’s charming and I don’t have to work with her.”

Ella stopped walking and faced him. “Look, are you programmed to disagree with everything I say, or are you just totally obnoxious?”

“Probably a little of both.”

“Then get over it. I’m already tired of having to argue with you all day.”

“You could try agreeing with me for a change.”

She started walking again. “
Right
. Like that’s going to happen. We’re obviously not meant to be best buddies, okay? So let’s do what Feehan said and try to get along at least on a professional level.”

“You prefer to keep things professional?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t date your colleagues?”

“Why, are you trying to summon up the courage to ask me out?”

He laughed, displaying a dimple near his chin. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners and he looked so damn sexy Ella almost wanted to smile back. “For the record, Morosov, I don’t date.”

“Why not?”

“Because...” She glared at him. “I don’t owe you an explanation, do I?”

“Not yet.”

“Wow, you really are over-confident.”

“Not at all. As your colleague, I’m just concerned about your well-being.”

“I
have
men, I don’t date them.”

He nodded. “So you’re afraid of commitment.”

“My life will probably end at twenty-seven.” She looked up at him. “Would you subject someone you loved to
that
?”

Ella regretted the words the moment she said them. She didn’t want him feeling sorry for her.

He let out his breath. “Probably not.” He reached out and took her hand. “I apologize.”

She flinched as his magic shot through her. “I knew you weren’t quite human.”

He shrugged and released her hand. “I’m many things.”

She gave into
her
instincts, and began walking again, turning left along the Embarcadero. She started to puff. To her annoyance, he easily kept up with her.

“I think the question you should be asking yourself, Ms. Walsh, is why you feel so threatened by me.”

She screeched to a halt again. “Threatened, by you?”

“Yes. I think you’ve got used to getting your own way in that office, and you don’t like anyone else coming in and questioning anything you say.”

“And I think you’re talking out of your ass.”

“I don’t like incompetence, Ms. Walsh, and I don’t like working with empaths on the brink of a breakdown. I’ll work with you because I have no choice, but I’ll be questioning everything that comes out of your mouth, double and triple checking it and, if necessary, taking my concerns to the very top to make sure I’m heard so I don’t get left holding the can when everything goes to shit.”

She stared into his eyes and for the first time in her life seriously contemplated drawing her weapon and shooting a fellow professional. But he’d probably like it if she did that, and she still had no way of knowing if he could actually be killed.

Instead, she gave him her best professional smile. “I’m glad you shared your concerns with me, Morosov. I appreciate your input and will consider each and every one of your points very carefully.”

He continued to stare at her and she continued to smile. His shields really were good. She had no idea what he was thinking, although she might hazard a guess that his thoughts weren’t currently full of love for her.

He nodded. “I’m glad we understand each other then. Good night, Ms. Walsh.”

“Good night, Mr. Morosov.” Ella walked away and this time he didn’t follow her. She wanted to look back, but she had a horrible sense that he would still be standing there watching her, and she didn’t want to encounter his death glare again. She headed toward Pier 41 and the reassuring sight of the Tiburon ferry. He was wrong about her. Totally wrong about everything. How dare he suggest she was some kind of workplace bully? He’d only been there half a day. He knew nothing!

Ella stomped up the gangplank and found a seat on the upper deck. Why was he so paranoid anyway? She thought about the SBLE serial killer files she’d downloaded to her laptop. What had gone wrong to screw up an investigation and cause a suspect to flee the country? She smiled out at the choppy waters of the bay. She just knew it had to have something to do with Vadim Morosov and she was damn well going to find out what he’d done and exactly why he hated empaths so much. And
then
they’d see who was really paranoid.

Chapter Six

Ella slumped down into her seat behind the conference table and tried to conceal her yawns as Vadim Morosov wrote on the whiteboard. He turned to look at her, pen in his hand, a pained expression on his face.

“Am I boring you, Ms. Walsh?”

He underlined Christa Morehouse’s name with a ferocious screech of the pen that made her cringe.

“Nope, carry on.” She smiled at him. “It’s fascinating.”

While Vadim outlined the cases he and Alexei had dealt with in Russia, Ella worried about Laney and the files from the SBLE database about the serial killer. Guiltily, she brought her full attention back to Vadim who was just summing up the evidence for the third murder.

“At that point we deduced that the victims were all female, and obviously, all empaths.”

She sat up. “And how did your empath feel about that?”

He turned toward her, his expression neutral. “She felt much as you did. Shocked that nothing seemed to remain in the victim’s head, and puzzled as to why any murderer would want to do that to his prey.”

“Was she worried about her own safety?”

“I can’t say that I noticed.” Vadim shrugged. “She seemed okay about it.”

“So at that point you would say she was still behaving in a professional manner?”

“Yes.” Vadim stared at her and then glanced across at Feehan. “Is there a point to these questions?”

“I’m just interested as to when you started to believe your empath had lost touch with the case and become a liability.”

Vadim’s face became a mask and Alexei cleared his throat. “We all noticed something was wrong on her twenty-seventh birthday. No one was prepared for her to implode so completely.”

“Why didn’t you take her off the case?” Feehan asked.

Vadim put the pen down with a definite click. “Because we were so caught up in the matter we couldn’t afford the time to bring another empath up to speed. We needed her input and right up until the last moment, she seemed perfectly fine.”

“Even though you all thought there was something wrong with her on her birthday? You just assumed that was normal for an empath?” Her question was general, but her gaze remained on Vadim. “Even though you in particular, Morosov, knew her really well?”

“She assured me that everything was okay. I believed her.”

Ella thought about the files she’d read the night before. “You sure did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged. “Just that you fucked up.”

Feehan frowned at her. “That’s an inappropriate remark. Apologize.”

“Why should I? Morosov isn’t exactly leaping to his own defense, is he?” Ella tapped her laptop. “Didn’t you read the files, Mr. Feehan? He fucked up. He didn’t double-check the information she fed him about the murderer and almost got himself and his whole team killed.”

She waited until everyone was looking at her. “So all this shit about the empath letting everyone down? How about looking at who let her down?” She glared at Vadim and Alexei. “Her whole team knew she was under considerable stress, and yet they put their need to get the killer ahead of her.”

Vadim made an impatient gesture. “That’s not the way it was. If Natasha was under stress, all she had to do was ask for help. She chose not to and her
choice
put the whole team in danger.”

“Don’t you understand anything about empaths? They don’t have many choices at all. Natasha might not even have realized her gift was so depleted.” Ella sat back. “She
killed
herself. You have to accept some of the blame for that.”

Vadim held her gaze and she saw it then—the emotion behind the cold exterior, the
pain
...

Feehan clapped his hands and stood up. “Let’s move on, shall we? Does anyone else have any more questions for Vadim about the older cases?” He nodded at Liz and Alexei. “I’m sure you two will work this information into your webs as soon as possible and let me know anything useful.”

“Of course, Mr. Feehan.” Alexei nodded, as polite as ever. He looked across at Liz. “Perhaps we might have lunch together?”

“Sure.” Liz smiled. “That would be great.”

Feehan picked up the pen Vadim had placed on the table and strode back to the board. “Let’s recap. Christa Morehouse rented the apartment in the city so that she could spend the summer getting to know her OCOS mate, George Ralston. Mr. Ralston is due to arrive today at the airport, where we will pick him up and bring him here for questioning.”

“Does he know about Christa yet?” Liz asked.

“I don’t think so,” Feehan replied. “We’re interested to see how he reacts to the news.”

“Well, if he’s only just arriving in town, he can’t be the murderer.”

Ella forced herself to stop staring at Vadim. “I’ll confirm that when I meet him. He’s only one-sixteenth Fae, but he should give off some kind of vibe that I can read and match to my memory of Christa.”

Alexei looked interested. “You can pick up signals like that?”

“Usually, although with Christa’s mind being wiped, I’m not so sure.”

“I don’t think Natasha had that ability,” Alexei mused. “It might have helped.”

“Maybe it was one of the things she lost. Some empaths lose their facilities really fast the day they turn twenty-seven.” It was hard to speak so casually about something that might soon be happening to her. “What time will Ralston be here?”

Feehan consulted his watch. Ella noticed that apart from the two Russians, he was the only one wearing a traditional watch. Everyone she knew used cell phones to check the time.

“He should be here in about two hours.” He glanced around the table. “Can you all make sure you’re available?”

There was a brisk knock and Sam stuck his head around the door.

“Hey, Dr. Clegg wants to know if you want to go and see the body or wait until he types up his report.”

“I’ll go down,” Feehan replied. “Does anyone want to come with me?”

“I’ll come.” For some weird reason, she felt like she needed to be there for the dead empath to protect her from everyone else. She simply couldn’t believe that there was nothing left. It didn’t make any sense.

She followed Feehan out of the room and down to the lower level that housed the small morgue and the underground parking lot. Footsteps behind her meant that someone else had joined them. She assumed it was Vadim, as the Fae had a horror for human death, but she didn’t bother to look around and confirm it. Feehan punched in the code to the morgue and held the door open for her. She shivered as the temperature dropped and a blast of disinfected air that failed to cover the undercurrent of death engulfed her.

She closed her mouth and tried to breathe sparingly through her nose. They didn’t get many human corpses in the SBLE morgue. They tended to be Otherworld creatures that came to the city to wreak havoc before they died. She had no idea why it was such a popular pastime, like lemmings jumping off cliffs. But it made her job difficult. Creatures at the end of their lives were much harder to scare back to their own side of the divide and much more likely to cause chaos.

* * *

Behind Ella, Vadim allowed the heavy door to close and then stood quietly checking out the space. Feehan went down the hallway to talk to someone, leaving them in the main room. The morgue was small and kept scrupulously clean. He almost wished he’d worn sunglasses as the lighting was so bright and the walls were painted something equally shiny. Gutters ran in parallel across the tiled floor ready to sluice away anything unmentionable. He slowly inhaled and tasted the taint of magic, both good and bad, on his tongue.

Ella nudged his arm. “What’s up?”

Today she wore jeans, a green flowered shirt that was missing too many buttons and a pink bra that pushed her breasts up in a way that made him want to bend down and bury his face in her cleavage. She smelled like coffee and pizza and bubblegum, which was far more appealing than dead magic.

“Morosov, are you staring at my bra?”

“It’s rather hard to miss.”

“Laney made me buy it. She said it’s like a sheepdog.”

More than willing to be distracted, Vadim frowned. “Why?”

“You know—” she cupped her breasts and shoved them upward, “—round them up and pen them in.”

“Ah. That’s a new one on me.”

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

Vadim raised his eyebrows. “Which particular part?”

She had the grace to blush. “All of it, I suppose.” She fidgeted with her top button. “I just get so pissed off when everyone starts blaming the empath.”

Vadim kept his gaze on her rather superlative bosom. He tended to date tall, thin women who weren’t so well endowed but looked spectacular on his arm.

“I suppose I should be grateful. You could have said a lot more than you did.”

“About you and Natasha?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like empaths?”

“I did until I met her.”

“She destroyed your faith in us?”

There was a hint of skepticism in her voice that made Vadim wary. “No, she destroyed my faith in true love.”

“Yeah, like you believed in that.”

He met her derisive gaze. “Actually I did, but unlike most humans, I don’t assume it makes the participants happy.” God forbid she ever met his parents. She’d see what he meant.

“So you’re a reformed romantic.”

“Exactly.” He lowered his gaze to her chest again. “I like sex, though. Good, uncomplicated, sweaty, uncommitted sex.”

“So do I, and stop staring at my boobs.”

He manufactured a sigh. “It’s a shame you don’t fraternize with your workmates.”

She stepped away and shot him a dark look. “Stop playing your little games with me.”

“What games?”

“Morosov, your shields are very good, but I’m an empath. I know when you’re talking shit to distract me.”

“From what?”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Feehan reappear and beckon to them. Ella started to walk away pausing only to shoot her final remark over her shoulder.

“From your guilt about Natasha.”

He opened his mouth, then realized she wasn’t even waiting for an answer. Did he feel guilty about Natasha, or was he just still angry with her for letting down the team? He’d tried hard not to let his personal devastation leak into his work, but Ella had seen right through him. She seemed to understand him better than anyone except his own mother. That idea made him want to puke his guts up. He glanced surreptitiously around. If he did want to puke this was the place for it. The whole vibe made him uncomfortable.

Feehan was talking to a tall man in a white coat Vadim assumed was Dr. Clegg. Ella joined the group and started to listen as well, her expression intent. Vadim had already noticed how quickly she slipped from lazy inattention to complete alertness.

The three of them moved away and he made himself follow. The good doctor might think that everything in his morgue was dead, but Vadim knew better. Some of the lost souls floating around needed to be dispatched before the atmosphere became even more polluted. Not that “souls” was the right word for what remained here. Most of these creatures had no belief in a Christian god.

Dr. Clegg unlocked a door and ushered them inside. Vadim leaned against the wall and watched as Feehan and Ella approached the corpse as if it might wake up and start talking. There was nothing there. Even he could sense that. No humanity, no magic, no nothing. He focused his attention on Ella, who had paused by the victim’s head, her hand on the pillow almost touching skin.

Dr. Clegg glanced down at his notes. “We have a twenty-seven-year-old female empath. Apart from higher than average levels of alcohol in her bloodstream, she was a very healthy woman.”

“Were there any signs that she had been tied up or abused?” Feehan asked.

“Nothing to indicate that at all.” Dr. Clegg pulled aside the thin cotton sheet that covered the body. “A couple of bruises, but nothing significant—apart from the fact that her brain seems to have been traumatized.”

“Yes, I was going to ask you about that. I think Ella mentioned what she’d sensed—or more importantly—what she hadn’t sensed, when she tried to get a reading.”

Ella shrugged. “I could’ve been wrong.”

Vadim considered her. She sounded almost uncertain. Was she beginning to lose it, too?

“No, you were right, Ella. There’s a distinct lack of activity.” Dr. Clegg hesitated. “When I did an MRI, I discovered her hippocampus appeared to have been liquefied.”

“What exactly is that?” Feehan asked.

“It’s a part of the brain located in the medial temporal lobe that we think plays an important role in the consolidation of information from short-term memory to long-term.”

Vadim glanced at Ella who looked as shocked as he felt. He didn’t recall the pathologist in Russia mentioning the hippocampus. But it made a sick kind of sense.

Dr. Clegg continued speaking. “I used conventional scientific methods and Otherworld diagnostics, but I couldn’t pick up anything else.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“And I hope you don’t have to see it again,” Feehan said. “But we’re pretty much convinced we’re on the trail of an Otherworld killer.”

“I thought as much.” Dr. Clegg wrote something on his clipboard. “Humans have been known to eat each other’s brains, but they tend to make rather a lot more mess getting to them.” His gaze traveled over the dead woman. “This was very precise.”

Dr. Clegg headed for the door, followed by Feehan. Vadim lingered to watch as Ella wrapped her arms around herself as if she was cold.

“What’s wrong?”

She looked around as if she hadn’t realized he was still there.

“I was just trying to see if I’d missed anything, if there was something...” Her words trailed away.

“From what I read in your report, at the time you were pretty certain there was nothing left. What’s changed?”

She met his gaze. “It’s your fault.”

He raised his eyebrows. “As is everything, apparently. What did I do?”

“You reminded me about how crazy empaths get around their birthdays.”

“You’re not twenty-seven yet, are you?”

“Not for a few weeks.” She walked up to him and he straightened against the wall. “It’s okay, we can go now. I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.”