Natalie hit the number to call her friend back just as she saw the sun slip over the horizon. She stepped out on the patio to enjoy the cool night air.
“Hey!” Dez picked up. “I hope that helped. I wasn’t even sure whether he’d talk to you, but—”
“Who? Who the hell did I talk to, Dez, because—I’m gonna be honest—today was really, really weird. Hi, by the way. There is a whole big chunk of last night that I do not remember at all, and I’m really confused.”
“W…what?” Dez said as she moved around, and Natalie remembered her friend had a daughter now. It was probably bedtime or bathtime or storytime or something. “What are you talking about?”
“Why did I call you yesterday?”
Dez laughed a little. “Why did you say you called? Or why did you really call?”
“Both.”
“Well, you said you were calling to catch up since it had been months since we talked last. Matt says hi, by the way. He invited you up for a visit anytime you want.”
“Oh, that’s sweet. And I’d love to see Carina. The pictures are just… She’s adorable, Dez. So amazing that you’re a mom nd hre a ow.”
“Weird, right? Anyway, so we chatted for a bit, then you started asking me if I knew anything about the murders in Juarez, which I did.”
She let out a breath. “That’s right. You helped Dr. Givens when he was working with Amnesty that summer.”
“Yep. So I’m pretty familiar with the history, but I didn’t know about the stuff happening down by you. Did you say you don’t remember any of this?”
“Nope. Nothing. The doctor seems to think it’s stress, but I’m not so sure.”
There was a long pause on the line. “Well… stress will do weird stuff to you. I know it’s been really hard with work and being a new mom. Sometimes I feel like sleep is just a happy memory, so it could definitely be stress. I wouldn’t let it worry you, because that would just make it worse, right? You’re probably tired. Have you been sleeping normally? If I remember, you never really slept all that much, and if you’re following a story—”
“Why are you rambling like a loon?” Natalie rolled her eyes. “Whatever it was, the doctor said it was probably nothing to worry about, though I think he thought I had way more gin than I actually did. But what were we talking about on the phone last night? You asked if I’d talked to someone. Who did you mean?”
“Um… Well—” Dez’s voice broke up a bit.
“Dez?”
“Hey, can I call you back?”
“Dez, I really need to find out what happened. I mean—”
“I know. And I am going to call you right back, but I have a call coming through right now, and I really think I ought to take it.”
She sighed. “Okay. I guess. But can you get back to me later tonight? I’m at home.”
“I definitely will.”
“Thanks, Dez. Appreciate it.”
“You got it. Okay, gotta go.”
“All right. Say hi to—” Dez had already hung up. “Matt.”
Natalie looked at the phone. “That was weird.”
CHAPTER THREE
Baojia would have preferred to meet with the Kirbys in person, but since that would have taken too long, he contented himself with a speakerphone while he practiced his forms. He stood in the center of his first-story studio, which had been customized to suit his particular needs. Weapons hung in neat rows along the eastern wall and a quiet fountain burbled in the corner. A long mirror hung along the north wall, ensuring precision as he practiced the ancient forms his human father had taught him.
He practiced every night. It centered him physically, emotionally, and spiritually. At just over 150 years old, he was young for one of his kind. Vampires took care not to make too many children, and he was one of only four living vampires his sire had created. He had been turned for his skills and human strength, which were only amplified by his sire’s amnis. And the discipline that made him such an effective fighter in his mortal life allowed him to master his elemental strength at a young age. He was young, but he was also unusually powerful.
Baojia sensed a change coming. Some shift in his immortal life beckoned him, though he had no idea what it could be. But it was there, teasing the corners of his mind and filling the vivid dreams he still had during his day rest. Practicing the wing chun forms he had learned as a child was his own form of meditation.
Curreatantly, the patience he was so known for was being tried by the woman on the other end of the phone.
“Well, what do you want me to tell her?” Dez asked. “She’s going to expect a call back.”
“Then delay her until I can find out more, Mrs. Kirby.”
“Please, call me Dez. I feel weird with you being so proper.”
He paused, slightly uncomfortable at her informality. “Dez, I don’t know how much Matt has told you about Ivan, but—”
“I haven’t told her anything about Ivan.” Matt broke in. “This is the first I’ve heard about all this.” Baojia could tell Matt Kirby was annoyed with his wife. He could also tell Dez didn’t really care.
Dez said, “This is the first I’ve heard about Ivan, too! She did not mention that name to me. She asked me about the murders happening along the border because I worked on a documentation project down in Juarez when I was in college. Nat remembered I’d had some experience with that case, so she called to ask me—”