Flame in the Dark (Soulwood #3)(9)
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Standing in the cramped space of the security system, I made my report to Rick and Soul.
“Can you prove he—it—wasn’t human?” Soul asked.
“Empirical evidence in a few days,” I said, speaking in my work accent. “Maybe. But not scientifically.”
Soul heaved a sigh she might really need. I wasn’t sure if her species needed air the same way humans did. Maybe they breathed through their pores or had holes in their rib cages or something. “I’d like you to speak with Ming of Glass and her bodyguard. See what you can get out of them. When you are done, they may leave, with our thanks.”
I stood, flatfooted, meeting Soul’s gorgeous and slightly amused eyes. At her side, Rick looked as surprised as I felt.
“Ummm. Don’t you think there might be someone better than me to talk to a vampire?”
“No,” Soul said. “You are precisely the right person to address the issue of paranormal beings who’ve committed first-degree murder and/or hate crimes with the highest-ranked vampire in Knoxville. And it will be an opportunity to rebuild bridges that you set fire to when you referred to all Mithrans as smelling ‘maggoty,’ I believe?”
I blushed hotly, and the last of the chill flushed out of my body. “Ohhh. You think she knows—”
“I am quite certain that she knows. Your reaction to Mithrans has made all the rounds. Go make nice with the head of Clan Glass. Rebuild some bridges. She’s waiting on you upstairs in the office we are using as an interrogation room. Go on,” she added when I stood there. “Take Tandy with you.”
I left the room, which had suddenly grown too close and lost all oxygen. Tandy was outside the door, his reddish brown eyebrows lifted. Like Occam, I hadn’t seen him all night.
“You heard?” I asked. “That you’re supposed to go with me to question the vampires?”
“No. But I felt. What happened?”
Tandy was the unit’s empath, which meant he could tell what other people were feeling—humans and paranormals both. The gift had been forced on him by Mother Nature when he was hit by lightning three times, and the reddish Lichtenberg lines that crossed his pale skin like the veins in leaves were a lasting legacy. I told him what had happened and about my punishment as we climbed the stairs to the second floor. He didn’t laugh, which was nice. He handed me a folder containing several printed papers, including the questions that had been asked of all the party guests and two floor plans of the crime scene room, one with Xs for where everyone had been standing. A dozen more. There was no time to memorize any of them. I shoved them back into the manila folder.
My thoughts were rattled and I pulled what I could remember about proper protocol with a powerful vampire to the forefront of my memories. I needed excellent manners, a calm attitude, and the ability to play conversational chess, thinking ahead a dozen moves or so. And if Ming had ordered the shooting? There was nothing I could do.
Vamps were policed by their up-line boss, which in Knoxville meant Ming of Glass. And Ming could be judged and punished only by the Master of the City of New Orleans, Leo Pellissier, her up-line master. Or any vampire who managed to challenge her to a blood duel. Or any non-law-enforcement human who got close enough to stake her and managed to survive. The position of vampires as regarded by law enforcement was hazy.
“Nell,” Tandy said. “You’ll be fine. Just remember: be polite, and never, ever meet her eyes.”
“That’s good advice,” I whispered and cleared my throat when the words came out like busted gravel. We passed through the bedroom and into a sitting room, where Tandy opened the door on the far side. The small room beyond was set up as an office, decorated with heavy draperies, heavier rugs over wood floors, dark wood wainscoting, a leather sofa, two leather armchairs, and a desk the size of Minnesota. Well, not really, but it was huge, oversized for the small office.
Ming and Yummy were sitting in the armchairs, Ming upright as a board, Yummy stretched out, with a leg over the chair arm. The blond vampire looked relaxed, but her position shielded Ming from the doorway and allowed Yummy to roll down to the floor in the event of an attack. The position would fall below any gunshots and give her plenty of room to strike and take out an opponent. As a vampire, she had the speed to cross the distance and take out a human shooter in an eyeblink. And bullets wouldn’t hurt her anyway unless they were silver. Ming was positioned to roll under the massive desk, into relative safety.
Tandy paused near the desk and the recording device centered on it. I stopped to the side of Ming, carefully not between Yummy and her charge. Tandy said, “It’s standard operating procedure for us to record this conversation. Do you have objections, Ming of Glass?”
Ming waved a hand, the motion languid. “I have no objection.”
Tandy pushed a button and stated the day and time, the address, and the location in the house. He said, “Special Agents Thom Andrew Dyson and Nell Nicholson Ingram, with Ming of Glass and one member of her security. Would you state your name, miss?” he asked.
“No,” Yummy said.
Tandy went red. I wanted to giggle, and all the fear drained out of me. The vamps were playing games with PsyLED. I decided it was not the right time to engage or I’d be playing the game they wanted to play, not one of my own. There are things a girl learns listening to the squabbles of an extended family. Timing is one of them. “Ming of Glass,” I said. “I’m honored to speak with you. I’m Special Agent Nell Ingram of PsyLED.”