Dark Pact Page 4

  “You have to say it,” she said.

  Oh. “Please come in,” I said.

  She moved in past me, moving faster than I expected. Again, like watching ballet, except the ballet dancer was in speed motion.

  She was slight, but wiry. Her hair was light blond, and I could tell that she’d been fair and pale before she was a vampire. She faced me, her eyes dark, and hard, at odds with her almost fae like appearance. “What is it you need from me? Zachary told me to come and help you, and that once you gave me the task, you’d listen to me as to how it is carried out.”

  No beating around the bush here, was there? “I need to speak to Alfonso Delgado, among other things.”

  Her only reaction was to raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

  “Because my client thinks Delgado has something to do with the matter he’s hired me to solve. In fact, I know he does, but that’s one place to start looking for some answers.” This would need to happen fast. As of midnight tonight, Kel was down to five days.

  She nodded. “I get Zachary’s instructions now. How familiar are you with vampires? And what are you?”

  “I’m part witch, according to history, and I’m not sure what you’re asking. Like, how vampires go about their business?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m asking. And there’s something more than just a witch.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “There’s something more. We have an excellent sense of smell.”

  “Oh.” I nodded, crossing my arms. “What’s your name?” I wondered what she smelled to ask what else I was—but this didn’t seem the time to ask. “And what else do you smell?” I couldn’t seem to help myself.

  “My name is Tuesday. As to you, I’m not sure. It’s…” she stopped, and inhaled deeply. “It’s not human. Or witch. You have no idea?”

  “No. I wish I did. Thank you for coming to help me.” I wanted to change the subject of me. This made me nervous.

  “I didn’t have a choice, but if you’re going to give Delgado a headache, I’m happy to help.”

  “What’s your beef with him?”

  “He killed my partner.” Her words were flat and stark.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not allowed to kill him.” Her eyes were even darker.

  I didn’t think that was possible. “I don’t want to kill him.” I needed to clarify that.

  “That’s all right. I enjoy the thought of giving him a business headache,” she smiled, and her fangs were visible.

  She was scary as hell. If I met her in a dark alley, I’d pee my pants. Without even a second thought. She might be slight, and wiry, and look like a tall fairy, but right now she looked like she could kick the ass of an entire football team, and not even break a sweat.

  “Where can I sleep?” Tuesday asked.

  “I have a place in the back of the house. There aren’t any windows, and,” I walked to the back room, “I set up a bed for you. I wasn’t sure what you’d prefer.”

  Clicking on the light, I showed her where I’d set up the bed. “Will this be comfortable for you?” I asked. I hadn’t had to put up a vampire before.

  “This is acceptable,” Tuesday said, her voice softer than before. “Thank you for taking the trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble,” I said. “I want you to be able to sleep safely.”

  “Dawn is still some hours away. Shall we talk about what else you feel you need?”

  “That would be great. I’m kind of on the clock, here,” I said.

  “How so? Zachary did not tell me the particulars, so I would appreciate if you could tell me everything you know.”

  I walked back to the kitchen. “I’m sorry,” I said, turning to face her. “I didn’t think about anything to eat for you—”

  “I have addressed that,” Tuesday said very formally. “But thank you.”

  Daniella hadn’t been kidding. The manners thing was big so far with the two vampires I’d met. “Well, have a seat.” I gestured at the large table.

  She sat, and I told her the story that Kel had told me. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of the murdered vampire.

  “This friend is worth you getting involved?”

  I shrugged. “He was, once. He’s not a bad guy. Generally.”

  Tuesday smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “They’re all bad guys at times, Deana Holliday. But that is not on me to judge. I know Lavina and knew Jessamine somewhat.”

  “What did they fight about?”

  Tuesday shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard about it, of course. The community here is not that large, and Jessamine is well known. All I know is that both were angry.”

  “Like killing angry?”

  Tuesday looked at me for a moment, and then said, “There is a great deal of fallout that would land on a vampire who kills another.”

  “So is that a no?”

  She shrugged again. “I don’t know. Lavina has a pretty horrible temper. Jessamine was far calmer. She’s older, and her mate would not allow Lavina to threaten her.”

  “Would her mate be a threat to Jessamine?” I had to ask, and what better person to ask than someone who knew them, but had no dog in the fight.

  “Vampires only mate when they are very sure, but it’s a fair question. However, knowing her mate, I will say no.”

  I sighed. “This doesn’t look good for Kel. Is Lavina the type to get someone else to do her dirty work?”

  Tuesday pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to give me her full opinion of Lavina.

  Which made sense. Kel tended to date what I’d call crazy chicks. It looked like he’d upped the stakes since we’d last been friends. “Got it. No need to say more.”

  “Why don’t you go to bed, and I’ll see what I can find out?” she asked abruptly.

  “Um, well, okay. Thanks for that.”

  “Of course.”

  “Is there anything else you need tonight?” I asked.

  “I am fine,” Tuesday said. Thank you.”

  Leaving her in the kitchen, I went up to my room. I wasn’t afraid of Tuesday. But her presence in my house made me afraid of what came with her; what I’d gotten myself into.

  Tonight, as I crawled into bed, I pulled the blankets up to my chin, and burrowed into the pillows.

  It was that kind of night.

  Chapter Four

  I woke the next morning, far earlier than I ought to have, given the lack of eight hours of sleep. There’s a vampire in my house was my first thought. Then, I still have to go to the office today. My clients were stacking up, and that was just on the supernatural side of things.

  Normally, I like to take my time in the morning, but today, I hurried. As I unlocked the door to my office, I realized I hadn’t been in this early since I’d opened the doors. I made coffee and got right to work. My email had a number of requests, and while most were things I wouldn’t be able to help with, there were a few that I responded to for more information.

  Then I turned my attention to Caleb Baker and his request. I did a search for him, first. He turned up in only one of my searches—PIs having access to a little more information than your standard Google search. He was a witness to a horrible accident nearly twenty-five years ago the same year the girl he thought might be his daughter had been born. He’d been a witness when a building in Minneapolis collapsed. Most of the people were all right, but one office—a brokerage firm—had lost almost two-thirds of their employees.

  The FBI later found that the employees who had died were involved in a major Ponzi scheme, targeting the elderly. The FBI notes were not anything out of the ordinary, although they were impressed with Caleb’s calm demeanor and his willingness to help the victims in the aftermath of the collapse.

  That should have comforted me, but it didn’t. It fed into my thoughts that there was something more about Caleb Baker. I resolved to ask him when we touched base again, although I wasn’t sure how that conversation would go.

  Shaking
my head, I took a look at the women he’d given me information on. The mother, and her daughter. I pulled birth records, and then I sighed. There was no way—well, no legal way—that Caleb was the father. First, another man—the woman’s ex-husband—was listed on the birth certificate. Second, the mother was here in Los Angeles, and the conception must have happened while Caleb was pulling survivors from the rubble of the aforementioned collapsed building, if my counting backwards nine months from the baby’s birth was correct.

  The FBI had kept track of him for two months after the accident. He hadn’t left the area, and he would have had to come here, to Los Angeles, in order to be a father, biological or legal. Which, according to the FBI, hadn’t happened. He hadn’t left Minneapolis at all. Not for the conception, or the birth.

  Better to get this over. I dialed the number he left me.

  “Deana Holliday,” his deep voice answered on the third ring.

  “Hello, Mr. Baker,” I said.

  “You have information?”

  “I do. I do not believe you are the woman’s father,” I said. It was always better to rip the band aid off quickly.

  “You have reasons for this belief?” he asked.

  “I do.”

  “Then I shall come and see you, and you can show them to me.”

  “I’ll be happy to send you the infor—” I stopped. He’d hung up. Well, okay then. I got the information in order and set it aside. Open and shut in less than two days. I went to my safe to get his money, sliding it into a manila envelope. My bill wouldn’t come to anything near what he’d left me.

  The bell on the door rang and I looked up, expecting Caleb Baker. It was Kel, and he looked terrible.

  “Deana! What have you found?” he asked.

  “I have a meeting set up with Delgado,” no sense in telling him I didn’t have it yet, but that I would, “And I’m working on why it is they think you did it.”

  He dropped into the chair in front of my desk, running his hands through his hair.

  “What does Lavina say about this?” I asked.

  “I haven’t seen her since they took her away. She texted me, and told me to tell the truth, but she didn’t send me to do anything.”

  “Was she really angry at Jessamine?”

  He shot a sharp look at me. “She was. I’d never seen her so angry. She kept saying, ‘II can’t believe she’s doing this!’ and a couple of times she kicked things across the room. But she wasn’t just angry.”

  “Oh?” This would have been nice to know when he came in here.

  “Yeah. She was mad, and she was also scared.”

  “How can you tell?” I tried to keep the skepticism out of my tone. From the vampires I’d met, I didn’t think they’d show fear. And especially not to a human, no matter how much he might have rocked her world between the sheets.

  “It was her eyes. She’s always so calm, even when she’s pissed. And she has a temper,” he shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning up. “But her eyes were afraid.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “No,” he said, staring at me. “But I’ve been with her for nearly a year. And we’ve… well, we’ve…” he stopped.

  “You need to be honest with me,” I said.

  “We’ve shared blood,” Kel whispered. “Once we did, I could tell how she was feeling more. Like, I could look at her, and get a sense, you know?”

  “No, I don’t. But I’ll take your word for it. Is this something that’s not allowed?”

  “I don’t know. She told me not to talk about it. So maybe?” He shrugged. “There’s less than five days, Deana. You have to help me!”

  “Kel, I’m doing everything I can. It’s tough when some of the people I have to speak with only work at night, but I should have some more info tonight. I can’t have you up my ass, either. I’m already suspect because I’m human, and I’m standing up for you.”

  That had come out without me meaning to say it, but it was true. And he should know what he was asking, even if he had paid what I asked. I might not be around to enjoy the Chief next week if I went wrong on this one.

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Now I need you to go home. Get your shit in order. Just in case things go bad. I don’t think they’re going to, but it’s going to be a close thing,” I said, realizing that my words were exactly what I thought. I stopped, because the feeling that came over me as I spoke was… indescribable. I didn’t know how I knew, but I knew.

  Whatever he saw in my face, as well as my words, must have convinced him. He got up. “Thank you, Deana. I know I don’t deserve it. I know I was a shithead to you. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “It’s the past, Kel. And you’ve done what I asked to make things… better,” I finished. I’d been about to say ‘right’, but I didn’t think things would ever be right between us. And that was okay. They didn’t have to be. We were both doing the best we could to do the right thing.

  That would have to be enough.

  Kel left, and I leaned back. I hoped I hadn’t been just talking out of my ass when I told him that things would work out. It felt right—it still felt right. I had no idea why. Current affairs didn’t seem to back that up. While I was contemplating this, the bell on the door rang again.

  Caleb Black walked in, a brown paper bag tucked under his arm, just like when I’d met him. I got up and held out my hand. He took it, and I felt a surge of power that radiated from him.

  Yep. There was definitely an other. As he sat down in front of my desk, I walked over, turned the sign to Closed, and locked the door, pulling the blinds on the it.

  Caleb turned around. He looked amused. “Is that necessary, Deana Holliday?”

  “It is. You know, in addition to Holliday,” I’d thought this over carefully, “I have another family name.” I came back around and sat down behind my desk, not breaking eye contact.

  He raised his eyebrows but didn’t respond.

  “It’s Nightingale. I have three aunts who live in Deadwood. You might say they are a fixture there.” I leaned forward. “Perhaps you’ve heard of them?”

  “I have. They are, in my opinion, a positive addition to Deadwood.”

  “I think so, too. So with that, it’s time for honesty, Mr. Black. What are you?”

  He smiled then, and it was genuine. “I wondered how long it would take you to figure it out. You’re very good.”

  I shrugged. “I have good research.”

  “So you know that I could not be the father of the young lady that I gave you information on?”

  “Not unless you snuck out from under FBI surveillance and flapped your wings back here.”

  Caleb nodded. “No, I did not. I wanted to see how you would react, and you have behaved admirably. I was also not sure if you were able to sense others like us.”

  “What if I hadn’t?”

  He shrugged. “I would have paid you, thanked you for your time, and moved on.”

  “What do you want, Mr. Black?”

  He leaned back, looking off at the wall. “I’ve been alive a long time. Not as long as some of the other mystic folk that walk this Earth, but for me, it’s been a long time.”

  “How long?” I asked.

  “I began my walk over two hundred years ago. I was created, brought here, to help my people.”

  “Who are your people?”

  Caleb sighed, and in that sigh, I saw the age on him. He went from a middle-aged man to one who was ancient. I blinked.

  “I’m dying,” Caleb Black said. “And like anyone, human or otherwise, I have my secrets. Except this one, I cannot take to the grave with me. Finally, I must share my story.”

  Chapter Five

  I didn’t know what it was, or how he did it, but the mood in my small office had shifted. I felt that I was outside, in the great wide-open plains. I could almost feel the wind in my hair.

  Then Caleb began to speak. “I was created by a great medicine man, of what you would know as the Hea
rt Lake First Nation, of the Alberta Cree. He was a shaman, a man who understood that a shift was coming to the people. Matunaagd, my father, saw what the white man would bring us. And so, he created me, named me Kisemanitokatew, to help Iyiniwok, the people, find their way when the darkness came to take their spirits. I served him, and the people, well. I returned the good to their spirits, banishing those things of evil.” He stopped, and the pain on his face made the tears spring to my eyes.

  “You would call me a wendigo. A wendigo is the closest thing to describe what I am, without the negative of that creature. There are no words. My name means the great, good positive force in the universe. I was created to bring that to those who had lost it or were in danger of losing it. My people needed that, after the white man came.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I knew that the U.S. had a pretty shameful track record with the people who were here first but hearing it like this—it was though a weight had been laid upon my shoulders.

  “When Matunaagd passed onto the spirit world, I rejoiced, because then I would once more see my father, my Kôhtâwiy . But I did not. He passed on without my ever having seen him. The mourning of his loss went on for a year, and all his possessions were given away. After that year, I was there for the feast that honored his passing, and still, I did not see him. I didn’t know what to do. I was as a child who has lost his parents and is unaware of the world.” He looked at me then. There were tears in his eyes. “Matunaagd had told no one of me. Therefore, there was no one to guide me, and I was left to find my own way. The years after his death were the darkest of my existence.” His gaze traveled over my head.

  “Needless to say, Deana Holliday, I found my way.”

  “Uh… not to be disrespectful, but don’t wendigos eat people?” I thought I was remembering it right.

  “They do. I ate the evil spirits that would inhabit men, that would make them harm others. I gave the room for the positive spirits that they needed to heal the human heart.”

  “Have you eaten lately?” I asked, wondering if I was stepping over a line. I also wondered what the hell this had to do with me, and my case.