Once Bitten

I tugged the curved door handle. The door shook on its frame, but didn't open. I frowned. A large, metal, call box gleamed to the left of the glass door, a list of neatly printed names and numbers beside it. Crap. A restricted-entry building.

Bobby moved to my side and jerked the handle. The door rattled, but held. “It's locked. How do we get in?"

I frowned at him. What, did he think I hadn't tugged hard enough on the door? Crossing my arms over my chest, I glanced at Gil. “Can you magic someone into letting us into the building?"

She shook her head. “I have to touch them for it to work."

Just peachy. I reexamined the door. The security bolt would be tricky to pick, but not impossible to get around, but the building entry was well lit and facing the street. There wasn't much traffic in this area, but even a little was too much. A man walking a Yorkie glanced at us as the dog hiked his leg on a tree. I grimaced, edging closer to the door.

"I can pick the lock, but we are kind of exposed,” I whispered. “Think there's a back door?"

Gil's eyebrows flew up. I ignored her.

Bobby grunted and nodded at an alley wrapping around the side of the building. It opened to a small, private, parking lot. I mentally upped the value of the condos.

A midnight-blue SUV was parked only feet from the back steps, the cargo area brimming with cardboard boxes. One of the boxes hadn't made it all the way inside the upscale vehicle, but was being used to prop open the building's back door. Well, that simplified things.

With the problem of getting inside solved, we followed a hallway until it fed into the main lobby. The motif from the exterior had carried over into the lobby, with large marble columns breaking up the space, accompanied by fake plants in ornamental planters. Nathanial pressed the button for the elevator, and the thick metal doors slid apart.

I eyed the interior warily. “We'll take the stairs."

"This is faster.” Nathanial stepped inside as the doors began to shut. He held up his hand. The doors jerked, stopped, and then opened fully again. He motioned everyone to enter.

I didn't move. Bobby stepped inside. Gil hesitated at the edge of the opening.

She crossed her arms and stared at the thin crevasse of empty darkness between the floor and elevator. “I second the stairs."

Bobby shrugged, joining us in the hall again. Nathanial shook his head, but he helped us search for the stairwell.

The stairs were tucked away discreetly on the far side of the lobby. The stairwell itself was tight and dingy, and not at all what I expected considering the grandeur of the building. But the stairs were still a far cry better than being locked in a moving box.

Gil opened the door to the fourth floor and then stopped, scanning her list. She pressed her lips into a tight line as her eyes swept the length of the long hall.

"Whose home are we looking for?” Nathanial, like me, was watching Gil and not looking at the hall.

"The sixth victim, killed around a month ago.” She poured over her list again. “Mab's tears! I could have sworn I wrote it down."

A ping sounded from the center of the hall, and the elevator doors slid open. How were we supposed to explain wandering the halls in a locked building? I backed toward the stairwell entrance, ready to duck inside. Bobby was half-a-step ahead of me, wrenching the door open as a middle-aged man stepped out of the elevator.

The man jumped when he saw us, nearly dropping the stack of folded boxes and packing tape he was balancing. His pace slowed as he peered around the tower of cardboard boxes. “Something I can help you folks with?"

Gil smiled, and I realized what she planned before she walked over and held out her hand. Poor guy, getting his mind all muddled up with magic. Not that I had any right to feel superior. What I'd done to Evan was worse.

"Hi, I'm investigating the murder of Phyllis Lamar.” Gil had enough confidence in her voice to inspire a generation, but the man looked skeptical.

Slowly, he adjusted the weight of the boxes so he could shake Gil's hand. As soon as they touched, the confusion melted from his face.

Her smiled widened. “I forgot which number her home was. I'm sure it's in my notes somewhere, but you could help out a lot if you told us."

"Number forty two. She was my next-door neighbor."

Gil's smile widened, “Thanks so much. Those boxes look pretty heavy. I'll get out of your way so you can continue about your business."

The skin on my arms tingled a second time—funny how the air changed when she used magic. The man smiled at her and nodded. He walked past me, awkwardly juggling his load and keys.

No one moved until his door closed behind him, then Nathanial made his way down the hall. The very last door had a shiny brass 42 above the entry.

He jiggled the doorknob silently. Locked, obviously. “Looks like you will need to show us your cat-burgling skills after all, Kitten."

"Not funny.” But I dug through my pockets.

My small lock-picking kit usually ended up buried at the bottom of the last pocket checked. I pulled out the winter gear I'd shoved in the pockets, and shifted through the knickknacks I'd collected. I'd forgotten about the green hair tie I'd found earlier in the week and the two blue marbles I'd found shortly after crossing the gate from Firth into the human world. I'd thought they were natural rocks at the time, and though I knew better now, I still liked them. I pulled out a tube of lip gloss which I apparently hadn't lost and a couple mismatched buttons. One of the marbles slipped from my fingers and rolled across the floor. I scrambled after it and managed to drop the other.

Nathanial scooped up the marbles, and his eyebrow quirked in a ruse of seriousness spoiled by the smile tipping the side of his mouth. “I ensure all of these ... treasures are returned to your coat after cleaning, and you throw them on the floor?"

When my only response was a frown, his almost smile tugged his lips into a true smile. He held out the marbles, but slightly beyond my reach.

I wasn't about to amuse him by stretching for the colored stones.

Bobby pulled at one of my pockets and glanced inside. “What is all this?"

I stepped around Bobby, jerking my coat away from him. “I'm a bit of a pack rat, okay?"

"More like a pack mule."

Well, I was just entertaining everyone today, wasn't I? Gritting my teeth, I lunged forward, and swiped the marbles from Nathanial's palm. In the process, I nearly dropped a small, embarrassing, plastic tiger. Growling under my breath, I shoved my hand deep in my pocket and felt the smooth leather casing of the lock-picking kit.

Finally.

Turning my back on both men, I concentrated on the door. I was a little out of practice, but this lock was definitely my friend. I could feel the tinniest click as the pins caught on the edge of the locking mechanism, and my timing was perfect. The last pin slid into place, and a twist of the tension wrench unlocked the door almost as quickly as if I'd had a key.

A buzz of approval came from behind me, and I smiled as I turned the knob, letting the door swing open. There was something about succeeding at what you tried, especially when people needed your talent. Okay, so that talent happened to be illegal breaking and entering, but hey, there wasn't much I was good at, so success felt good nonetheless.

Chapter 11

Inside, the apartment appeared to be waiting for its tenant to return from a long vacation. If this woman had been the fifth or sixth victim, as Gil claimed, she must have died over a month ago, but the family obviously hadn't moved anything out yet. The living room was in good order, with several sleek electronics along one wall, a pale cream couch along another, and a glass-topped coffee table off to one side with a handful of magazines scattered across it.

Bobby walked in first, Gil following him.

I hesitated. “Isn't there some sort of rule about vampires entering a home without an invitation?"

"You watch too many movies,” Nathanial said, and stepped around me. “The owner of this condo is deceased. It is no longer a private residence."

"Maybe someone else moved in.” I took a tentative step forward. There was something wrong about the doorway. I could feel it.

Nathanial grabbed my wrist and half-dragged me into the room. As I passed through the threshold, it felt like someone doused me in cold water. Then the doorway was behind me and the sensation passed.

Disturbing. I shook my head and pointedly ignored Bobby and Gil's stares.

As the door swung shut, only the street lights bleeding through the blinds illuminated the room. Gil clucked under her breath, held up her palm, and magic coursed through the air, skittering across my skin like a dozen spiders. Above her open palm, a violet orb formed, pulsing like a small, round heart. It started no larger than a jelly bean, but with each pulse the orb grew until it was roughly the diameter of a tennis ball. The surface was a deep swirl of purples, ever-changing like oil sliding over water, and, though the orb looked dark, it cast pale, lavender light over the room. A smile creased Gil's face as the orb floated away from her palm to hover over her shoulder.

Show off.

I flicked the switch beside the door, and the room filled with yellow electric light, drowning out the purple glow. Gil frowned at me, then swiveled on her heel, and she and her floating orb disappeared into the adjoining kitchen. Nathanial shook his head, but didn't say anything as he moved through the room.

Bobby waited by the door, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “What are we looking for?"

"I don't know. Clues, I guess.” I shrugged. “Something that gives us a hint of who this woman was and how the rogue found her."

Bobby nodded, but didn't venture any further. I didn't blame him. After all, what would a clue look like? It would be nice if the clue had blinking lights and a big arrow drawn above it.

I walked a slow circuit around the room. I wasn't exactly unaccustomed to exploring strangers’ houses, but normally I did it on four feet and without anything more than curiosity or hunger driving me.

All the magazines on the coffee table were addressed to Phyllis Lamar, so I guessed this really was her condo. Everything seemed to be neatly in place, but a thin layer of dust had settled on the top of every surface. If someone else lived here, they didn't dust, but kept their living room otherwise spotless.