Dead Spots (Scarlett Bernard #1)(41)

I thought that over. “Could be, I guess. Getting a null is about the only way a human servant would be able to kill a vampire. But I’m still putting my money on the killer being someone who wants to hurt Dashiell. He’s the bigger fish.”

“Maybe.” He stretched his arms over his head, yawning. “If Freedner works third shift, he won’t be home for a few hours yet. In the meantime, we need to know more about Dashiell’s enemies.”

I thought about that for a second. “Okay,” I said. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where?” he said, blinking fast.

“We need to know more about Dashiell’s enemies, and he doesn’t want to talk to us.”

We got in the car, and I began to back out of the dingy Copper Room lot.

“So where are we going, then?” Cruz said.

I glanced over at him. “To see his wife.”





Chapter 15


We were on the road to Pasadena before Beatrice even answered the phone. I was hopeful like that. To my relief, she agreed to meet me at an all-night coffee shop a few miles away from the mansion, and she reluctantly consented to my bringing Cruz.

The coffee shop, Kalista’s Koffee, was sparse and low-key, with concrete floors and unfinished ceilings. Paintings by local artists hung on the whitewashed walls, and flashes of color—a teapot here, a bouquet there—saved the place from sterility. Despite the late hour, there were two college students having a heated academic debate near the front windows and a tired-looking man in his forties typing at a laptop near the counter.

Beatrice was already there, sitting in the far back corner with an untouched glass of water in front of her. She was wearing a dress, as always, but this one was a simple burgundy wrap dress that brought out the auburn in her eyes. She watched us walk up with a calm, even friendly, expression on her face—until I got close enough for her to cross the line into my unique personal bubble. She took a couple of short gasping breaths and then straightened up; her composure returned, if somewhat dimmed by humanity.

“Thank you for meeting with us, Beatrice,” I said respectfully. I introduced Cruz, who gave an old-fashioned little bow that somehow worked for him.

Beatrice nodded gracefully and indicated that we should sit. “My husband does not know I’m here, though I will tell him if it becomes necessary,” she warned us. She focused on me. “Scarlett, I agreed to see you because I don’t think that you are capable of participating in that kind of slaughter.”

I have to admit, I was a little surprised she thought so “highly” of me. “Um, thank you.”

Her eyes darkened. “And, of course, I am sorry that his employees were a bit...enthusiastic with you.”

I touched my face, having forgotten about the bruises on my cheek and eye. As soon as I remembered them, they began to ache. Guess I hadn’t been doing much smiling. “It’s nothing.”

She nodded briskly. “Now, I understand you wish to know more of my husband’s enemies.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cruz said politely. “We have spoken to the human servants of the vampires who were killed, and they didn’t know of any other reason that those three would be killed, except to get to Dashiell.”

She looked at him, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. “You have learned so much in only a few days,” she said. “I wonder if it is too much.”

He blushed under her stare, and she turned toward me. “Are you certain that it is not the wolves? The carnage—”

“Pretty certain. Will would know if one of his wolves was that twisted, and I just can’t see him letting it slide. It doesn’t make any sense.”

She nodded. “What about Kirsten? I know little of witch magic, but I am told she is very powerful. Is it possible that a spell could cause the same reaction as a null?”

That idea took me by surprise. I thought it over for a second. I didn’t know of any spells that could subdue the vampires—surely someone would have told me if that were possible?

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I can’t see Kirsten causing a massacre like that, but it’s something to think about.” Unless she’d decided she was tired of the status quo...But Kirsten had sort of established the status quo. I had heard that she was the first to organize the witches, to request an equal share in using a cleaner to keep things under wraps. And she had been very helpful. Before her arrival, there had been too many incidents of witches setting fires or playing with love spells or experimenting with voodoo, of all things. Between my job and hers, there hadn’t been a public witchcraft incident in years. Which meant Dashiell didn’t have to throw money around to cover anything up.

“Is there anyone else who comes to mind, ma’am?” Cruz asked her.

Her long cream-colored fingernails tapped on the water glass. “There is one who wishes to take Dashiell’s place. She has had many names, but she currently calls herself Ariadne.” Beatrice’s long, regal nose wrinkled with distaste. “She and my husband were involved, many years ago. He ended their affair to be with me, and she was...displeased. When Dashiell became the master of Los Angeles, she was very bitter.”

“Can she...?” Cruz began, then paused, looking for words. “Um, can she take him?”

Beatrice smiled benevolently at him, as if he’d just done something adorable. “I do not think so. Definitely not in an even physical match. But a straightforward fight wouldn’t be her style. It would be like her to try to cripple him first, take away his wealth, or churn up animosity with the wolves.” Her gaze turned toward me.