Dead Spots

“After dear Mr. Stoker published his book, however, we knew we had to find a more stable way of life or face extinction. When the dust finally settled, each major city was ruled by a cardinal vampire, who was responsible for all the vampires in his territory. Some, like Dashiell, even tried to care for all the needs of the Old World, including the wolves.” She wrinkled her nose with distaste.

“What if the cardinal vampire wasn’t suited?” Jesse asked, fascinated despite himself. “What if they abused their power, or did things that humans noticed?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “It happens less often than you might think. If you’re powerful enough to control a city, you’ve been around long enough to understand the importance of discretion. Our kind cannot exist without it. But if a cardinal was unfit for some reason, neighboring vampires would group together to help a new candidate usurp the old.” She leaned forward, eyes suddenly bright with an intensity that was all her own. “That, you see, became our one rule, besides keeping our existence secret. No petty jostling for position. To maintain order, you didn’t just need a leader who would lead, you also had to have followers who were willing to follow. If a vampire kills off a master of the city just to gain his power, the vampires in the area will rise up against him.”

Scarlett asked, “What kinds of things are grounds for taking over a territory?”

Ariadne leaned back into the couch, her eyes dancing. “I expect you already know that, Miss Bernard. Revealing ourselves to the humans. Inability to keep one’s vampires in line. Failure to take care of those vampires.”

That rang a bell.

Jesse interrupted. “Ma’am, are you suggesting that the vampires in La Brea Park were killed so someone could take Dashiell’s place?”

She smiled at him, her legs dangling from the sofa. “Yes.”

Jesse looked at Scarlett, whose face gave away nothing, and back to Ariadne. “Why are you telling us this? You must know you’re going to be a suspect.”

“Because,” Scarlett answered, understanding blooming on her face, “it wasn’t her. She didn’t kill those people, but is afraid that whoever did will make a play for Dashiell’s spot and win. Unless we expose them and stir up enough trouble. In which case, Ariadne could take over instead.”

Ariadne said nothing, just smiled her pleased little smile at Jesse. Even as a human, she was very, very frightening.

At that moment, Jesse’s cell phone vibrated, and he gave a little jump and pulled the phone out of his pocket. The caller ID was for dispatch, even though he was off duty. Jesse stood up and paced a few steps away from Scarlett and the vampire. “Excuse me, please.” He flipped it open. “Cruz.”

He was being called in for overtime. As he listened to the dispatcher, he saw Scarlett answer her own phone.

They hung up at nearly the same time, and Jesse glanced at Ariadne, who was holding her hands up and studying them curiously, probably unused to feeling human. He looked at Scarlett. “Let me guess,” she said. “Another murder?”

He nodded, and they said in unison, “The comic book shop.”

When they were on their way to the van, Ariadne leaned out of the doorway and called after them, “Do give my regards to Dashiell and Beatrice, won’t you? Tell him I hope his writing is going better.”

Jesse looked at Scarlett questioningly, but she just shrugged and gave Ariadne a wave.

As he drove the van north, Jesse was wide-awake again, thinking about the new murder. He hadn’t gotten any details, other than there was a dead body and the officers on scene thought it was related to La Brea Park. Was Ronnie the victim? Was it because he had talked to them? And if so, what exactly had he said that was so important? Jesse replayed the conversation in his head, but other than the thing with the second null, Ronnie hadn’t really had anything new to say.

And that was another thing—why kill him after he’d talked to the police? If the killer knew Ronnie had been at the site before the police came to interview him, then he should have wanted to kill Ronnie right away. And if Jesse and Scarlett had led the killer to Ronnie, then killing him still didn’t make sense. If Ronnie had known something really important about the murder, the cops would have shown up at the killer’s door immediately. The fact that they had talked to Ronnie and still hadn’t discovered anything should have made the killer feel more comfortable, not less. The whole thing was weird.

“Did you see any video cameras?” Jesse asked suddenly.

“What?”

“At the comic book store. Were there any video cameras?”

“I don’t know. But hang on, I can find out.” Scarlett fished her cell phone out of her pocket and placed a quick call. She was shaking her head as she flipped the little phone closed. “Will was the one who called me about the murder. He got this weird text about a cleanup. He says no cameras. He’s been there a bunch of times to see Ronnie, and the wolves always notice that kind of thing.”

“Can we be sure?”

“If Will says so? Definitely.”

Okay, so there wouldn’t be any footage of Scarlett and him entering the shop to worry about, but there could still be eyewitnesses who remembered the incident from the other day. He hated this. When had Jesse become the kind of person who sneaks around hiding from official police investigations? The second he’d picked up the garbage bag, he realized, and felt a flare of anger.

“Uh, Jesse?”